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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fd92dea --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #52603 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/52603) diff --git a/old/52603-0.txt b/old/52603-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 96b6dea..0000000 --- a/old/52603-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,14220 +0,0 @@ - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The History and Remarkable Life of the -Truly Honourable Colonel Jacque, Commonly called Colonel Jack, by Daniel Defoe - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The History and Remarkable Life of the Truly Honourable Colonel Jacque, Commonly called Colonel Jack - -Author: Daniel Defoe - -Release Date: July 18, 2016 [EBook #52603] -Last updated: August 28, 2019 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK COLONEL JACK *** - - - - -Produced by Charles Bowen from page scans provided by -Google Books (Robarts - University of Toronto) - - - - - - -Transcriber's Notes: -1. Page scan source: The Web Archive -https://archive.org/details/historyandremark00defouoft -(Robarts - University of Toronto) - - - - - - -The History and Remarkable Life -of the truly honourable -Colonel Jacque -Commonly call’d -Colonel Jack - -by Daniel Defoe - -With the author’s preface, and an introduction by -G. H. Maynadier, Ph. D. - -DEPARTMENT OF ENGLISH, HARVARD UNIVERSITY - - - -National Library Company -New York - - -Edition De Luxe -LIMITED TO ONE THOUSAND SETS - - - -COPYRIGHT, 1904, BY -THE UNIVERSITY PRESS - - - -Jacque summoned -Jacque is summoned before his master. - -CONTENTS Introduction Author’s Preface The Life of Colonel Jacque The -True-born Englishman The Shortest Way with the Dissenters - - - - - - -ILLUSTRATIONS - - -COLONEL JACQUE - -PART I - -Jacque is summoned before his master. _ Frontispiece_ - -Escaping with the purloined horse. - - -PART II - -Colonel Jacque and the lady - -Colonel Jacque’s arrival is announced - - -INTRODUCTION - -Smollett bears witness to the popularity of Defoe’s _Colonel Jacque_. -In the sixty-second chapter of _Roderick Random_, the hero of that -novel is profoundly impressed by the genius of the disappointed poet, -Melopoyn, the story of whose tragedy is Smollett’s acrimonious version -of the fate of his own first literary effort, _The Regicide_. Melopoyn -tells Random that while waiting in vain for his tragedy to be produced, -he wrote some pastorals which were rejected by one bookseller after -another. A first said merely that the pastorals would not serve; a -second advised Melopoyn to offer in their place something “satirical or -luscious;” and a third asked if he “had got never a piece of secret -history, thrown into a series of letters, or a volume of adventures, -such as those of Robinson Crusoe and Colonel Jack, or a collection of -conundrums, wherewith to entertain the plantations?” Smollett probably -wrote this passage some time in the year 1747, for _Roderick Random_ -was published in January, 1748. It was twenty-four years -earlier—December twentieth, 1722—that _Colonel Jacque_ had been -published, or, to give it the name set forth by its flaunting -title-page:—_The History and Remarkable Life of the truly Honourable -Colonel Jacque, vulgarly called Col. Jack, who was born a Gentleman; -put ’Prentice to a Pickpocket; was six and twenty years a Thief, and -then kidnapped to Virginia; came back a Merchant; was five times -married to four Whores; went into the Wars, behaved bravely, got -Preferment, was made Colonel of a Regiment; came over, and fled with -the Chevalier, is still abroad Completing a Life of Wonders, and -resolves to die a General_. Surely a book for servants, readers of our -time will be apt to think on looking at this title-page; and yet -_Colonel Jacque_ is found to-day in many a gentleman’s library. This is -no reason, though, why it should still retain considerable popularity -in Smollett’s day. In less time after their appearance, some books -which live forever in literature have been forgotten by the great mass -of readers. What was it now that kept _Colonel Jacque_ popular a -quarter of a century after its publication? - -It can hardly be the story which maintained its popularity, for the -inorganic tale is of the simplest kind. Jacque, like Captain Singleton, -and Moll Flanders in her childhood, had almost no knowledge of his -parents. He was brought up by a woman who was well paid for taking the -child off his parents’ hands—a woman who, though seemingly an abandoned -character, nevertheless showed the boy kindness. When he was about ten, -she died. Then followed the chequered career sketched in the title -given above. Jacque, trained by a comrade as a pickpocket, became in -time a thief on a larger scale, but not a thief quite destitute of good -feeling. After he had robbed a poor woman of Kentish Town of 22_s_. -6½_d_., his conscience was never easy till he paid her back the money, -a year later; and through all his criminal life, he remembered that his -foster-mother had told him he came of gentle blood, and accordingly -should remember always to be a gentleman. The hope of being a gentleman -was before him, even when he was kidnapped to Virginia and sold into -bondage. There he became such a favourite of his master that in time he -was able to set up as a planter on his own account. From Virginia he -returned to England, and thence, after the unhappy matrimonial ventures -mentioned in the title, he went back to Virginia, where at last he -married the wife whom he had previously divorced. - -Nor could the character of the hero have had much to do in keeping -_Colonel Jacque_ popular. In spite of his matrimonial achievements, in -spite of the affection which he rouses in his American employer and his -slaves both, Colonel Jacque is without any attraction which a reader -can perceive to-day. Like most of Defoe’s characters, he is without -fine feeling; he is always looking out for the main chance. His chief -interest is commerce; he is a typical “Anglo-Saxon” trader. There are -thousands and thousands of such clever, prosy, cold-blooded -business-men in the United States to-day, and in the British colonies, -and in the United Kingdom. Though Defoe’s biographers are divided as to -whether or not he shared their mercantile cleverness, there is no doubt -that Defoe was heartily in sympathy with such men; and his interest in -recounting Colonel Jacque’s commercial ventures shows him to have been -what I have already called him—the Yankee trader of the Queen Anne -writers. - -It was the story of Colonel Jacque’s successful trading, no doubt, -which had a large part in sustaining the popularity of his _History_. -But even more important in this respect, was that which we have seen to -be the vital force in all Defoe’s fiction—circumstantial vividness. -This is less striking in the later pages than in the earlier. The -vividness ceases to a large extent after Jacque goes to America, for -Defoe did not know America so well as he knew his England. Yet even -when the scene shifts to the further side of the ocean, Defoe makes no -blunders; nothing impossible occurs; his geography is correct. In -_Colonel Jacque_, perhaps more than anywhere else, we see that interest -of Defoe’s in distant British possessions which made him, as I have -said, one of the “imperialists” of his time. Even so, what vividness -there is in the American scenes is too largely commercial. Not many -people, other than small traders or would-be traders, could ever have -read with interest such a paragraph as the following:— - -“With the sloop I sent letters to my wife and to my chief manager with -orders to load her back, as I there directed, viz., that she should -have two hundred barrels of flour, fifty barrels of pease; and, to -answer my other views, I ordered a hundred bales to be made up of all -sorts of European goods, such as not my own warehouses only would -supply, but such as they could be supplied with in other warehouses -where I knew they had credit for anything.” - -Very different are the earlier pages which deal with Jacque’s -adventures as a poor criminal boy in England. Here Defoe was on ground -that he knew thoroughly. Sir Leslie Stephen[1] has observed that Defoe -passed beyond the bounds of probability when he made his hero, an -almost elderly man writing his memoirs in Mexico, remember the details -of his boyish thieving with marvellous exactness. Barring this -improbability—one by the way which you are not aware of while you read -the scenes in question, for you do not know how long a time will elapse -before the hero begins to record his experiences—the verisimilitude of -the first part of _Colonel Jacque_ could not be surpassed. Moreover, in -picturing the life of the poor, neglected boy, Defoe is unusually -sympathetic. And so in the early pages of _Colonel Jacque_, more than -anywhere else, is found the power of the story, the secret of its -popularity when Smollett was writing _Roderick Random_, and the secret -of its appeal to readers to-day. Lamb was hardly overstating the case -when he declared, “The beginning of ‘Colonel Jack’ is the most -affecting, natural picture of a young thief that was ever drawn.”[2] - -At the end of the second volume of _Colonel Jacque_ will be found two -of Defoe’s earlier political satires:—_The True-Born Englishman_ and -_The Shortest Way with the Dissenters_. The former, the most celebrated -piece of verse which Defoe wrote, was published in January, 1701. The -circumstances which led to its publication are set forth by the author -himself in his autobiographical sketch of 1715, _An Appeal to Honour -and Justice_. - -On the first of August, 1700, according to his statement, there -appeared “a vile abhorred pamphlet, in very ill verse, written by one -Mr. Tutchin, and called _The Foreigners_; in which the author . . . -fell personally upon the King himself, and then upon the Dutch Nation. -And after having reproached his Majesty with crimes that his worst -enemy could not think of without horror, he sums up all in the odious -name of _Foreigner_. This filled me with a kind of rage against the -book, and gave birth to a trifle which I never could hope should have -met with so general an acceptance as it did; I mean _The True-Born -Englishman_.” - -The reason for Tutchin’s pamphlet was that William III., never loved by -the English, became less and less popular after the death of Queen -Mary. A Dutchman, he was supposed to have the interests of Holland more -at heart than those of England. This supposition was strengthened by -the fact that he took no Englishmen into his confidence as he did his -old and trusted Dutch friends. These, naturally, shared his -unpopularity, especially the Duke of Schomberg and the King’s favourite -minister, William Bentinck, created Earl of Portland, both of whom are -mentioned by Defoe in his _True-Born Englishman_. - -Defoe, in this reply to Tutchin’s pamphlet, sought to prove that the -king and his foreign friends had as good right to the esteem of the -English as any patriots in the history of the country. In the first -part of the “poem,” as Defoe called his satire, he showed that William, -with his Dutch blood, was as much entitled to the name of Englishman as -any of his subjects, who came of mixed British, Pictish, Roman, Saxon, -Danish, and Norman blood. In short, Defoe made the English out a hybrid -race, and with excellent good sense showed that their national vigour -was due largely to their being so. Much of what he said might well be -said to-day of the people of the United States, as for instance, the -following from Defoe’s explanatory preface:— - -“The multitudes of foreign nations who have taken sanctuary here, have -been the greatest additions to the wealth and strength of the nation; -the essential whereof is the number of its inhabitants. Nor would this -nation ever have arrived to the degree of wealth and glory it now -boasts of, if the addition of foreign nations . . . had not been -helpful to it. This is so plain, that he who is ignorant of it is too -dull to be talked with.” - -The other side to Defoe’s picture (and there was another side then as -now) is shown in verses which, with a few changes, would likewise be -applicable to the United States to-day. Defoe is trying to prove that -even with lapse of years the English race remains hybrid. - -“And lest by length of time it be pretended -The climate may this modern breed have mended, -Wise Providence, to keep us where we are, -Mixes us daily with exceeding care. -We have been Europe’s sink, the jakes where she -Voids all her offal outcast progeny. -From our fifth Henry’s time, the strolling bands -Of banish’d fugitives from neighb’ring lands -Have here a certain sanctuary found: -Th’ eternal refuge of the vagabond, -Where, in but half a common age of time, -Borr’wing new blood and manners from the clime, -Proudly they learn all mankind to contemn, -And all their race are true-born Englishmen.” - - -In the second part of the satire, Defoe tries to describe the nature of -the English, their pride, and their ingratitude to their benefactors. -Among the stanzas in which he hits off the faults of his countrymen, -the following, more true than grammatical, is among the most forcible:— - -“Surly to strangers, froward to their friend; -Submit to love with a reluctant mind; -Resolved to be ungrateful and unkind. -If by necessity reduced to ask, -The giver has the difficultest task; -For what’s bestow’d they awkwardly receive, -And always take less freely than they give. -The obligation is their highest grief; -And never love, where they accept relief. -So sullen in their sorrows, that ’tis known, -They’ll rather die than their afflictions own: -And if relieved, it is too often true, -That they’ll abuse their benefactors too; -For in distress their haughty stomach’s such, -They hate to see themselves obliged too much, -Seldom contented, often in the wrong; -Hard to be pleased at all, and never long.” - - -Defoe’s satire was a success. Written, as it is, in rough verse, at -times little better than doggerel, it is yet always vigorous and -interesting. To-day, after a lapse of two hundred years, no verse from -Defoe’s pen is so readable. That it was effective in accomplishing the -purpose for which it was composed, is proved by the fact that the -people, taking the satire good-naturedly, experienced a revulsion of -feeling towards the king and his Dutch friends. It was natural that the -piece should bring Defoe the increased regard of the king, whose favour -he had already to some extent enjoyed. “This poem was the occasion of -my being known to His Majesty,” Defoe wrote in his _Appeal to Honour -and Justice_; and “I was afterwards received by him.” - -Concluding the second volume of _Colonel Jacque_ will be found the -ironical _Shortest Way with the Dissenters_, which placed Defoe in the -pillory and in prison. It was written in 1702, the first year of Anne’s -reign, when the strong Tory influence in the government seemed likely -to bring back the persecution of Nonconformists which had ceased in the -time of William. From the early summer, when Dr. Sacheverell preached -at Oxford a most inflammatory sermon against the Dissenters, High -Church feeling against them grew stronger and stronger. Finally Defoe -decided that the best service he could render them was to show the -views of the High Church party in all their extreme savageness. The -result was the pamphlet, _The Shortest Way with the Dissenters; or, -Proposals for the Establishment of the Church_, which appeared on the -first of December, 1702. - -Defoe was so successful in imagining High Tory sentiments in his -pamphlet, that it was received with indignation by the Dissenters -themselves and with acclaim by the extreme Churchmen. “I join with” the -author “in all he says,” wrote one of them,[3] to a friend who had sent -him the pamphlet, “and have such a value for the book, that, next to -the Holy Bible and the sacred Comments, I take it for the most valuable -piece I have.” Naturally there was a storm when the truth was -discovered and the High Tories found out that what they had praised was -ironical. They were immediately shamed into declaring the pamphlet a -dangerous libel, intended to stir up the Dissenters to civil war. -Defoe’s bookseller and printer were accordingly arrested, and a reward -was offered for his apprehension. He gave himself up, was tried, and -sentenced to pay a fine of two hundred marks, to stand three times in -the pillory, and to go to prison for the Queen’s pleasure. How Defoe -converted his punishment in the pillory into a triumph, and how -profitably he employed his time during his imprisonment, have been -already told in the introduction to _Robinson Crusoe_. - -G. H. Maynadier. - - - -AUTHOR’S PREFACE - -Sir,—It is so customary to write prefaces to all books of this kind, to -introduce them with the more advantage into the world, that I cannot -omit it, though on that account ’tis thought this work needs a preface -less than any that ever went before it. The pleasant and delightful -part speaks for itself; the useful and instructive is so large, and -capable of so many improvements, that it would employ a book large as -itself to make improvements suitable to the vast variety of the -subject. - -Here’s room for just and copious observations on the blessings and -advantages of a sober and well-governed education, and the ruin of so -many thousands of youths of all kinds in this nation for want of it; -also, how much public schools and charities might be improved to -prevent the destruction of so, many unhappy children as in this town -are every year bred up for the gallows. - -The miserable condition of unhappy children, many of whose natural -tempers are docible, and would lead them to learn the best things -rather than the worst, is truly deplorable, and is abundantly seen in -the history of this man’s childhood; where, though circumstances formed -him by necessity to be a thief, a strange rectitude of principles -remained with him, and made him early abhor the worst part of his -trade, and at last wholly leave it off. If he had come into the world -with the advantage of education, and been well instructed how to -improve the generous principles he had in him, what a man might he not -have been! - -The various turns of his fortunes in the world make a delightful field -for the reader to wander in; a garden where he may gather wholesome and -medicinal fruits, none noxious or poisonous; where he will see virtue -and the ways of wisdom everywhere applauded, honoured, encouraged, -rewarded; vice and all kinds of wickedness attended with misery, many -kinds of infelicities; and at last, sin and shame going together, the -persons meeting with reproof and reproach, and the crimes with -abhorrence. - -Every wicked reader will here be encouraged to a change, and it will -appear that the best and only good end of an impious, misspent life is -repentance; that in this there is comfort, peace, and oftentimes hope, -and that the penitent shall be returned like the prodigal, _and his -latter end be better than his beginning_. - -While these things, and such as these, are the ends and designs of the -whole book, I think I need not say one word more as an apology for any -part of the rest—no, nor for the whole. If discouraging everything that -is evil, and encouraging everything that is virtuous and good—I say, if -these appear to be the whole scope and design of the publishing this -story, no objection can lie against it; neither is it of the least -moment to inquire whether the Colonel hath told his own story true or -not; if he has made it a History or a Parable, it will be equally -useful, and capable of doing good; and in that it recommends itself -without any introduction.—Your humble servant, - -The Editor. - - - -THE LIFE OF -COLONEL JACQUE - -Seeing 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 ordinarily -the fate of the clan to which I once belonged, I think my history may -find a place in the world as well as some who 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 original may be as high as anybody’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 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 misfortune 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 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, he said, 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. - -But my disasters were not directed to end as soon as they began. It is -very seldom that the unfortunate are so but for a day; as the great -rise by degrees of greatness to the pitch of glory in which they shine, -so the miserable sink to the depth of their misery by a continued -series of disasters, and are long in the tortures and agonies of their -distressed circumstances, before a turn of fortune, if ever such a -thing happens to them, gives them a prospect of deliverance. - -My nurse was as honest to the engagement she had entered into as could -be expected from one of her employment, and particularly 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 same terms. - -My name was John, as she told me, but neither she or I knew anything of -a surname that belonged to me; so I was left to call myself Mr. -Anything, what I pleased, as fortune and better circumstances should -give occasion. - -It happened that her own son (for she had a little boy of her own, -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. - -As we were all Johns, we were all Jacques, and soon came to be called -so; for at that part of the town where we had our breeding, viz., near -Goodman’s Fields, the Johns are generally called Jacque; 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 captain, and I cried, and told -my nurse I would be called captain; for she told me I was a gentleman, -and I would be a captain, that I would. The good woman, to keep the -peace, told me, ay, ay, I was a gentleman, and therefore I should be -above a captain, for I should be a colonel, and that was a great deal -better than a captain; “for, my dear,” says she, “every tarpauling, if -he gets but to be lieutenant of a press smack, is called captain, but -colonels are soldiers, and none but gentlemen are ever made colonels. -Besides,” says she, “I have known colonels come to be lords and -generals, though they were bastards at first, and therefore you shall -be called colonel.” - -Well, I was hushed indeed with this for the present, but not thoroughly -pleased, till, a little while after, I heard her tell her own boy that -I was a gentleman, and therefore he must call me colonel; at which her -boy fell a-crying, and he would be called colonel. That part pleased me -to the life, that he should cry to be called colonel, for then I 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. - -So here was Colonel Jacque and Captain Jacque. As for the third boy, he -was only plain Jacque for some years after, till he came to preferment -by the merit of his birth, as you shall hear in its place. - -We were hopeful boys, all three of us, and promised very early, by many -repeated circumstances of our lives, that we would be all rogues; and -yet I cannot say, if what I have heard of my nurse’s character be true, -but the honest woman did what she could to prevent it. - -Before I tell you much more of our story, it would be very proper to -give you 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 Jacques, and they shall be brief and impartial. - -Captain Jacque was the eldest of us all, by a whole year. He was a -squat, big, strong-made boy, and promised to be stout when grown up to -be a man, but not to be tall. His temper was sly, sullen, reserved, -malicious, revengeful; and, withal, he was brutish, bloody, and cruel -in his disposition. He was, as to manners, a mere boor, or clown, of a -carman-like breed; sharp as a street-bred boy must be, but ignorant and -unteachable from a child. He had much the nature of a bull-dog, bold -and desperate, but not generous at all. All the schoolmistresses we -went to could never make him learn—no, not so much as to make him know -his letters; and as if he was born a thief, he would steal everything -that came near him, even as soon almost as he could speak; and that not -from his mother only, but from anybody else, and from us too that were -his brethren and companions. He was an original rogue, for he would do -the foulest and most villainous things, even by his own inclination; he -had no taste or sense of being honest—no, not, I say, to his brother -rogues, which is what other thieves make a point of honour of; I mean -that of being honest to one another. - -The other, that is to say, the youngest of us Johns, was called Major -Jacque, by the accident following: The lady that had deposited him with -our nurse had owned to her that it was a major of the Guards that was -the father of the child, but that she was obliged to conceal his name, -and that was enough. So he was at first called John the Major, and -afterwards the Major; and at last, when we came to rove together, Major -Jacque, according to the rest, for his name was John, as I have -observed already. - -Major Jacque was a merry, facetious, pleasant boy, had a good share of -wit, especially off-hand-wit, as they call it; was full of jests and -good humour, and, as I often said, had something of a gentleman in him. -He had a true manly courage, feared nothing, and could look death in -the face without any hesitation; and yet, if he had the advantage, was -the most generous and most compassionate creature alive. He had native -principles of gallantry in him, without anything of the brutal or -terrible part that the captain had; and, in a word, he wanted nothing -but honesty to have made him an excellent man. He had learned to read, -as I had done; and as he talked very well, so he wrote good sense and -very handsome language, as you will see in the process of his story. - -As for your humble servant, Colonel Jacque, he was a poor, unhappy, -tractable dog, willing enough, and capable too, to learn anything, if -he had had any but the devil for his schoolmaster. He set out into the -world so early, that when he began to do evil, he understood nothing of -the wickedness of it, nor what he had to expect for it. I remember very -well that when I was once carried before a justice, for a theft which -indeed I was not guilty of, and defended myself by argument, proving -the mistakes of my accusers, and how they contradicted themselves, the -justice told me it was a pity I had not been better employed, for I was -certainly better taught; in which, however, his worship was mistaken, -for I had never been taught anything but to be a thief; except, as I -said, to read and write, and that was all, before I was ten years old; -but I had a natural talent of talking, and could say as much to the -purpose as most people that had been taught no more than I. - -I passed among my comrades for a bold, resolute boy, and one that durst -fight anything; but I had a different opinion of myself, and therefore -shunned fighting as much as I could, though sometimes I ventured too, -and came off well, being very strong made and nimble withal. However, I -many times brought myself off with my tongue, where my hands would not -have been sufficient, and this as well after I was a man as while I was -a boy. - -I was wary and dexterous at my trade, and was not so often catched 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 unhanged, as you shall hear. - -As for my person, while I was a dirty glass-bottle-house boy, sleeping -in the ashes, and dealing always in the street dirt, it cannot be -expected but that I looked like what I was, and so we did all; that is -to say, like a “black-your-shoes-your-honour,” a beggar-boy, a -blackguard-boy, or what you please, despicable and miserable to the -last degree; and yet I remember the people would say of me, “That boy -has a good face; if he was washed and well dressed, he would be a good, -pretty boy. Do but look; what eyes he has; what a pleasant, smiling -countenance! ’Tis a pity. I wonder what the rogue’s father and mother -was,” and the like. Then they would call me, and ask me my name, and I -would tell them my name was Jacque. “But what’s your surname, sirrah?” -says they. “I don’t know,” says I. “Who is your father and mother?” “I -have none,” said I. “What, and never had you any?” said they. “No,” -says I, “not that I know of.” Then they would shake their heads and -cry, “Poor boy!” and “’Tis a pity,” and the like; and so let me go. But -I laid up all these things in my heart. - -I was almost ten years old, the captain eleven, and the major about -eight, when the good woman my nurse died. Her husband was a seaman, and -had been drowned a little before in the _Gloucester_ frigate, one of -the king’s ships which was cast away going to Scotland with the Duke of -York in the time of King Charles II., and the honest woman dying very -poor, the parish was obliged to bury her; when the three young Jacques -attended her corpse, and I, the colonel (for we all passed for her own -children), was chief mourner; the captain, who was the eldest son, -going back very sick. - -The good woman being dead, we, the three Jacques, were turned loose to -the world. As to the parish providing for us, we did not trouble -ourselves much about that; we rambled about all three together, and the -people in Rosemary Lane and Ratcliff, and that way, knowing us pretty -well, we got victuals easily enough and without much begging. - -For my particular part, I got some reputation for a mighty civil, -honest boy; for if I was sent off an errand, I always did it punctually -and carefully, and made haste again; and if I was trusted with any -thing, I never touched it to diminish it, but made it a point of honour -to be punctual to whatever was committed to me, though I was as arrant -a thief as any of them in all other cases. - -In like case, some of the poorer shopkeepers would often leave me at -their door, to look after their shops till they went up to dinner, or -till they went over the way to an alehouse, and the like, and I always -did it freely and cheerfully, and with the utmost honesty. - -Captain Jacque, on the contrary, a surly, ill-looking, rough boy, had -not a word in his mouth that savoured either of good manners or good -humour; he would say “Yes” and “No,” just as he was asked a question, -and that was all, but nobody got any thing from him that was obliging -in the least. If he was sent off an errand he would forget half of it, -and it may be go to play, if he met any boys, and never go at all, or -if he went, never come back with an answer, which was such a -regardless, disobliging way that nobody had a good word for him, and -everybody said he had the very look of a rogue, and would come to be -hanged. In a word, he got nothing of anybody for goodwill, but was, as -it were, obliged to turn thief for the mere necessity of bread to eat; -for if he begged, he did it with so ill a tone, rather like bidding -folks give him victuals than entreating them, that one man, of whom he -had something given, and knew him, told him one day, “Captain Jacque,” -says he, “thou art but an awkward, ugly sort of a beggar, now thou art -a boy; I doubt thou wilt be fitter to ask a man for his purse than for -a penny when thou comest to be a man.” - -The major was a merry, thoughtless fellow, always cheerful; whether he -had any victuals or no, he never complained; and he recommended himself -so well by his good carriage that the neighbours loved him, and he got -victuals enough, one where or other. Thus we all made a shift, though -we were so little, to keep from starving; and as for lodging, we lay in -the summer-time about the watch-houses and on bulkheads and shop-doors, -where we were known. As for a bed, we knew nothing what belonged to it -for many years after my nurse died; and in winter we got into the -ash-holes and nealing-arches in the glass-house, called Dallow’s -Glass-house, in Rosemary Lane, or at another glass-house in Ratcliff -Highway. - -In this manner we lived for some years; and here we failed not to fall -among a gang of naked, ragged rogues like ourselves, wicked as the -devil could desire to have them be at so early an age, and ripe for all -the other parts of mischief that suited them as they advanced in years. - -I remember that one cold winter night we were disturbed in our rest -with a constable and his watch crying out for one Wry-neck, who, it -seems, had done some roguery, and required a hue-and-cry of that kind; -and the watch were informed he was to be found among the beggar-boys -under the nealing-arches in the glass-house. - -The alarm being given, we were awakened in the dead of the night with -“Come out here, ye crew of young devils; come out and show yourselves;” -so we were all produced. Some came out rubbing their eyes and -scratching their heads, and others were dragged out; and I think there -was about seventeen of us in all, but Wry-neck as they called him, was -not among them. It seems this was a good big boy, that used to be among -the inhabitants of that place, and had been concerned in a robbery the -night before, in which his comrade, who was taken, in hopes of escaping -punishment, had discovered him, and informed where he usually -harboured; but he was aware, it seems, and had secured himself, at -least for that time. So we were allowed to return to our warm apartment -among the coal-ashes, where I slept many a cold winter night; nay, I -may say, many a winter, as sound and as comfortably as ever I did -since, though in better lodgings. - -In this manner of living we went on a good while, I believe two years, -and neither did or meant any harm. We generally went all three -together; for, in short, the captain, for want of address, and for -something disagreeable in him, would have starved if we had not kept -him with us. As we were always together, we were generally known by the -name of the three Jacques; but Colonel Jacque had always the -preference, upon many accounts. The major, as I have said, was merry -and pleasant, but the colonel always held talk with the better sort—I -mean the better sort of those that would converse with a beggar-boy. In -this way of talk I was always upon the inquiry, asking questions of -things done in public, as well as in private; particularly, I loved to -talk with seamen and soldiers about the war, and about the great -sea-fights or battles on shore that any of them had been in; and, as I -never forgot anything they told me, I could soon, that is to say, in a -few years, give almost as good an account of the Dutch war, and of the -fights at sea, the battles in Flanders, the taking of Maestricht, and -the like, as any of those that had been there; and this made those old -soldiers and tars love to talk with me too, and to tell me all the -stories they could think of, and that not only of the wars then going -on, but also of the wars in Oliver’s time, the death of King Charles -I., and the like. - -By this means, as young as I was, I was a kind of an historian; and -though I had read no books, and never had any books to read, yet I -could give a tolerable account of what had been done and of what was -then a-doing in the world, especially in those things that our own -people were concerned in. I knew the names of every ship in the navy, -and who commanded them too, and all this before I was fourteen years -old, or but very soon after. - -Captain Jacque in this time fell into bad company, and went away from -us, and it was a good while before we ever heard tale or tidings of -him, till about half a year, I think, or thereabouts. I understood he -was got among a gang of kidnappers, as they were then called, being a -sort of wicked fellows that used to spirit people’s children away; that -is, snatch them up in the dark, and, stopping their mouths, carry them -to such houses where they had rogues ready to receive them, and so -carry them on board ships bound to Virginia, and sell them. - -This was a trade that horrid Jacque, for so I called him when we were -grown up, was very fit for, especially the violent part; for if a -little child got into his clutches, he would stop the breath of it, -instead of stopping its mouth, and never troubled his head with the -child’s being almost strangled, so he did but keep it from making a -noise. There was, it seems, some villainous thing done by this gang -about that time, whether a child was murdered among them, or a child -otherwise abused; but it seems it was a child of an eminent citizen, -and the parent somehow or other got a scent of the thing, so that they -recovered their child, though in a sad condition, and almost killed. I -was too young, and it was too long ago, for me to remember the whole -story, but they were all taken up and sent to Newgate, and Captain -Jacque among the rest, though he was but young, for he was not then -much above thirteen years old. - -What punishment was inflicted upon the rogues of that gang I cannot -tell now, but the captain, being but a lad, was ordered to be three -times soundly whipped at Bridewell, my Lord Mayor, or the Recorder, -telling him it was done in pity to him, to keep him from the gallows, -not forgetting to tell him that he had a hanging look, and bid him have -a care on that very account; so remarkable was the captain’s -countenance, even so young, and which he heard of afterwards on many -occasions. When he was in Bridewell I heard of his misfortune, and the -major and I went to see him; for this was the first news we heard of -what became of him. - -The very day that we went he was called out to be corrected, as they -called it, according to his sentence; and as it was ordered to be done -soundly, so indeed they were true to the sentence; for the alderman who -was the president of Bridewell, and whom I think they called Sir -William Turner, held preaching to him about how young he was, and what -pity it was such a youth should come to be hanged, and a great deal -more; how he should take warning by it, and how wicked a thing it was -that they should steal away poor innocent children, and the like; and -all this while the man with a blue badge on lashed him most -unmercifully, for he was not to leave off till Sir William knocked with -a little hammer on the table. - -The poor captain stamped and danced, and roared out like a mad boy; and -I must confess I was frighted almost to death; for though I could not -come near enough, being but a poor boy, to see how he was handled, yet -I saw him afterwards with his back all wealed with the lashes, and in -several places bloody, and thought I should have died with the sight of -it; but I grew better acquainted with those things afterwards. - -I did what I could to comfort the poor captain when I got leave to come -to him. But the worst was not over with him, for he was to have two -more such whippings before they had done with him; and indeed they -scourged him so severely that they made him sick of the kidnapping -trade for a great while; but he fell in among them again, and kept -among them as long as that trade lasted, for it ceased in a few years -afterwards. - -The major and I, though very young, had sensible impressions made upon -us for some time by the severe usage of the captain, and it might be -very well said we were corrected as well as he, though not concerned in -the crime; but it was within the year that the major, a -good-conditioned, easy boy, was wheedled away by a couple of young -rogues that frequented the glass-house apartments, to take a walk with -them, as they were pleased to call it. The gentlemen were very well -matched; the major was about twelve years old, and the oldest of the -two that led him out was not above fourteen. The business was to go to -Bartholomew Fair, and the end of going to Bartholomew Fair was, in -short, 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 young -rogues managed it so well that by 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 themselves, and gave all to him, that, -if they had been taken, nothing might be found about them. - -It was a devilish lucky day to 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 captain. The list of their purchase the first -night was as follows:— - -1. A white handkerchief from a country wench, as she was staring up at -a jack-pudding; there was 3s. 6d. and a row of pins tied up in one end -of it. - -2. A coloured handkerchief, out of a young country fellow’s pocket as -he was buying a china orange. - -3. A riband purse with 11s. 3d. and a silver thimble in it, out of a -young woman’s pocket, just as a fellow offered to pick her up. - -_N.B_.—She missed her purse presently, but, not seeing the thief, -charged the man with it that would have picked her up, and cried out, -“A pickpocket!” and he fell into the hands of the mob, but, being known -in the street, he got off with great difficulty. - -4. A knife and fork, that a couple of boys had just bought and were -going home with; the young rogue that took it got it within the minute -after the boy had put it in his pocket. - -5. A little silver box with 7s. in it, all in small silver, 1d., 2d., -3d., 4d. pieces. - -_N.B_.—This, it seems, a maid pulled out of her pocket, to pay at her -going into the booth to see a show, and the little rogue got his hand -in and fetched it off, just as she put it up again. - -6. Another silk handkerchief, out of a gentleman’s pocket. - -7. Another. - -8. A jointed baby and a little looking-glass, stolen off a toy-seller’s -stall in the fair. - -All this 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 next day to a -strange degree. - -He came very early to me, who lay not far from him, and said to me, -“Colonel Jacque, I want to speak with you.” “Well,” said I, “what do -you say?” “Nay,” said he, “it is business of consequence; I cannot talk -here;” so we walked out. As soon as we were come out into a narrow lane -by the glass-house, “Look here,” says he, and pulls out his little hand -almost full of money. - -I was surprised at the sight, when he puts it up again, and, bringing -his hand out, “Here,” says he, “you shall have some of it;” and gives -me a sixpence and a shilling’s worth of the small silver pieces. This -was very welcome to me, who, as much as I was of a gentleman, and as -much as I thought of myself upon that account, never had a shilling of -money together before in all my life, not that I could call my own. - -I was very earnest then to know how he came by this wealth, for he had -for his share 7s. 6d. in money, the silver thimble, and a silk -handkerchief, which was, in short, an estate to him, that never had, as -I said of myself, a shilling together in his life. - -“And what will you do with it now, Jacque?” said I. “I do?” says he. -“The first thing I do I’ll go into Rag Fair and buy me a pair of shoes -and stockings.” “That’s right,” says I, “and so will I too;” so away we -went together, and we bought each of us a pair of Rag Fair stockings in -the first place for fivepence; not fivepence a pair, but fivepence -together; and good stockings they were too, much above our wear, I -assure you. - -We found it more difficult to fit ourselves with shoes; but at last, -having looked a great while before we could find any good enough for -us, we found a shop very well stored, and of these we bought two pair -for sixteenpence. - -We put them on immediately, to our great comfort, for we had neither of -us had any stockings to our legs that had any feet to them for a long -time. I found myself so refreshed with having a pair of warm stockings -on, and a pair of dry shoes—things, I say, which I had not been -acquainted with a great while—that I began to call to my mind my being -a gentleman, and now I thought it began to come to pass. When we had -thus fitted ourselves I said, “Hark ye, Major Jacque, you and I never -had any money in our lives before, and we never had a good dinner in -all our lives. What if we should go somewhere and get some victuals? I -am very hungry.” - -“So we will, then,” says the major; “I am hungry too.” So we went to a -boiling cook’s in Rosemary Lane, where we treated ourselves nobly, and, -as I thought with myself, we began to live like gentlemen, for we had -three pennyworth of boiled beef, two pennyworth of pudding, a penny -brick (as they call it, or loaf), and a whole pint of strong beer, -which was sevenpence in all. - -_N.B_.—We had each of us a good mess of charming beef-broth into the -bargain; and, which cheered my heart wonderfully, all the while we were -at dinner, the maid and the boy in the house, every time they passed by -the open box where we sat at our dinner, would look in and cry, -“Gentlemen, do you call?” and “Do ye call, gentlemen?” I say, this was -as good to me as all my dinner. - -Not the best housekeeper in Stepney parish, not my Lord Mayor of -London, no, not the greatest man on earth, could be more happy in their -own imagination, and with less mixture of grief or reflection, than I -was at this new piece of felicity; though mine was but a small part of -it, for Major Jacque had an estate compared to me, as I had an estate -compared to what I had before; in a word, nothing but an utter -ignorance of greater felicity, which was my case, could make anybody -think himself so exalted as I did, though I had no share of this booty -but eighteenpence. - -That night the major and I triumphed in our new enjoyment, and slept -with an undisturbed repose in the usual place, surrounded with the -warmth of the glass-house fires above, which was a full amends for all -the ashes and cinders which we rolled in below. - -Those who know the position of the glass-houses, and the arches where -they neal the bottles after they are made, know that those places where -the ashes are cast, and where the poor boys lie, are cavities in the -brickwork, perfectly close, except at the entrance, and consequently -warm as the dressing-room of a bagnio, that it is impossible they can -feel any cold there, were it in Greenland or Nova Zembla, and that -therefore the boys lie there not only safe, but very comfortably, the -ashes excepted, which are no grievance at all to them. - -The next day the major and his comrades went abroad again, and were -still successful; nor did any disaster attend them, for I know not how -many months; and, by frequent imitation and direction, Major Jacque -became as dexterous a pickpocket as any of them, and went on through a -long variety of fortunes, too long to enter upon now, because I am -hastening to my own story, which at present is the main thing I have to -set down. - -The major failed not to let me see every day the effects of his new -prosperity, and was so bountiful as frequently to throw me a tester, -sometimes a shilling; and I might perceive that he began to have -clothes on his back, to leave the ash-hole, having gotten a society -lodging (of which I may give an explanation by itself on another -occasion); and which was more, he took upon him to wear a shirt, which -was what neither he or I had ventured to do for three years before, and -upward. - -But I observed all this while, that though Major Jacque was so -prosperous and had thriven so well, and notwithstanding he was very -kind, and even generous, to me, in giving me money upon many occasions, -yet he never invited me to enter myself into the society or to embark -with him, whereby I might have been made as happy as he; no, nor did he -recommend the employment to me at all. - -I was not very well pleased with his being thus reserved to me. I had -learned from him in general that the business was picking of pockets, -and I fancied that though the ingenuity of the trade consisted very -much in sleight-of-hand, a good address, and being very nimble, yet -that it was not at all difficult to learn; and, especially, I thought -the opportunities were so many, the country people that come to London -so foolish, so gaping, and so engaged in looking about them, that it -was a trade with no great hazard annexed to it, and might be easily -learned, if I did but know in general the manner of it, and how they -went about it. - -The subtle devil, never absent from his business, but ready at all -occasions to encourage his servants, removed all these difficulties, -and brought him into an intimacy with one of the most exquisite divers, -or pickpockets, in the town; and this, our intimacy, was of no less a -kind than that, as I had an inclination to be as wicked as any of them, -he was for taking care that I should not be disappointed. - -He was above the little fellows who went about stealing trifles and -baubles in Bartholomew Fair, and ran the risk of being mobbed for three -or four shillings. His aim was at higher things, even at no less than -considerable sums of money, and bills for more. - -He solicited me earnestly to go and take a walk with him as above, -adding that after he had shown me my trade a little, he would let me be -as wicked as I would; that is, as he expressed it, that after he had -made me capable, I should set up for myself, if I pleased, and he would -only wish me good luck. - -Accordingly, as Major Jacque went with his gentlemen only to see the -manner, and receive the purchase, and yet come in for a share; so he -told me, if he had success, I should have my share as much as if I had -been principal; and this he assured me was a custom of the trade, in -order to encourage young beginners, and bring them into the trade with -courage, for that nothing was to be done if a man had not the heart of -the lion. - -I hesitated at the matter a great while, objecting the hazard, and -telling the story of Captain Jacque, my elder brother, as I might call -him. “Well, colonel,” says he, “I find you are faint-hearted, and to be -faint-hearted is indeed to be unfit for our trade, for nothing but a -bold heart can go through stitch with this work; but, however, as there -is nothing for you to do, so there is no risk for you to run in these -things the first time. If I am taken,” says he, “you have nothing to do -in it; they will let you go free; for it shall easily be made appear, -that whatever I have done, you had no hand in it.” - -Upon these persuasions I ventured out with him; but I soon found that -my new friend was a thief of quality, and a pickpocket above the -ordinary rank, and that aimed higher abundantly than my brother Jacque. -He was a bigger boy than I a great deal; for though I was now near -fifteen years old, I was not big of my age; and as to the nature of the -thing, I was perfectly a stranger to it. I knew indeed what at first I -did not, for it was a good while before I understood the thing as an -offence. I looked on picking pockets as a kind of trade, and thought I -was to go apprentice to it. It is true this was when I was young in the -society, as well as younger in years, but even now I understood it to -be only a thing for which, if we were catched, we ran the risk of being -ducked or pumped, which we call soaking, and then all was over; and we -made nothing of having our rags wetted a little; but I never -understood, till a great while after, that the crime was capital, and -that we might be sent to Newgate for it, till a great fellow, almost a -man, one of our society, was hanged for it; and then I was terribly -frighted, as you shall hear by-and-by. - -Well, upon the persuasions of this lad, I walked out with him; a poor -innocent boy, and (as I remember my very thoughts perfectly well) I had -no evil in my intentions. I had never stolen anything in my life; and -if a goldsmith had left me in his shop, with heaps of money strewed all -round me, and bade me look after it, I should not have touched it, I -was so honest; but the subtle tempter baited his hook for me, as I was -a child, in a manner suited to my childishness, for I never took this -picking of pockets to be dishonesty, but, as I have said above, I -looked on it as a kind of trade that I was to be bred up to, and so I -entered upon it, till I became hardened in it beyond the power of -retreating. And thus I was made a thief involuntarily, and went on a -length that few boys do, without coming to the common period of that -kind of life—I mean to the transport-ship, or to the gallows. - -The first day I went abroad with my new instructor, he carried me -directly into the city, and as we went first to the water-side, he led -me into the long-room at the custom-house. We were but a couple of -ragged boys at best, but I was much the worse. My leader had a hat on, -a shirt, and a neckcloth; as for me, I had neither of the three, nor -had I spoiled my manners so much as to have a hat on my head since my -nurse died, which was now some years. His orders to me were to keep -always in sight, and near him, but not close to him, nor to take any -notice of him at any time till he came to me; and if any hurly-burly -happened, I should by no means know him, or pretend to have anything to -do with him. - -I observed my orders to a tittle. While he peered into every corner and -had his eye upon everybody, I kept my eye directly upon him, but went -always at a distance, and on the other side of the long-room, looking -as it were for pins, and picking them up out of the dust as I could -find them, and then sticking them on my sleeve, where I had at last -gotten forty or fifty good pins; but still my eye was upon my comrade, -who, I observed, was very busy among the crowds of people that stood at -the board doing business with the officers who pass the entries and -make the cockets, &c. - -At length he comes over to me, and stooping as if he would take up a -pin close to me, he put some thing into my hand, and said, “Put that -up, and follow me downstairs quickly.” He did not run, but shuffled -along apace through the crowd, and went down, not the great stairs -which we came in at, but a little narrow staircase at the other end of -the long-room. I followed, and he found I did, and so went on, not -stopping below, as I expected, nor speaking one word to me, till, -through innumerable narrow passages, alleys, and dark ways, we were got -up into Fenchurch Street, and through Billiter Lane into Leadenhall -Street, and from thence into Leadenhall Market. - -It was not a meat-market day, so we had room to sit down upon one of -the butchers’ stalls, and he bid me lug out. What he had given me was a -little leather letter-case, with a French almanac stuck in the inside -of it, and a great many papers in it of several kinds. - -We looked them over, and found there was several valuable bills in it, -such as bills of exchange and other notes, things I did not understand; -but among the rest was a goldsmith’s note, as he called it, of one Sir -Stephen Evans, for £300, payable to the bearer, and at demand. Besides -this, there was another note for £12, 10s., being a goldsmith’s bill -too, but I forget the name. There was a bill or two also written in -French, which neither of us understood, but which, it seems, were -things of value, being called foreign bills accepted. - -The rogue, my master, knew what belonged to the goldsmiths’ bills well -enough, and I observed, when he read the bill of Sir Stephen, he said, -“This is too big for me to meddle with;” but when he came to the bill -£12, 10s., he said to me, “This will do. Come hither, Jacque;” so away -he runs to Lombard Street, and I after him, huddling the other papers -into the letter-case. As he went along he inquired the name out -immediately, and went directly to the shop, put on a good, grave -countenance, and had the money paid him without any stop or question -asked. I stood on the other side the way looking about the street, as -not at all concerned with anybody that way, but observed that when he -presented the bill he pulled out the letter-case, as if he had been a -merchant’s boy, acquainted with business, and had other bills about -him. - -They paid him the money in gold, and he made haste enough in telling it -over, and came away, passing by me, and going into Three King Court, on -the other side of the way; then we crossed back into Clement’s Lane, -made the best of our way to Cole Harbour, at the water-side, and got a -sculler for a penny to carry us over the water to St. Mary Overy’s -stairs, where we landed, and were safe enough. - -Here he turns to me; “Colonel Jacque,” says he, “I believe you are a -lucky boy; this is a good job. We’ll go away to St. George’s Fields and -share our booty.” Away we went to the Fields, and sitting down in the -grass, far enough out of the path, he pulled out the money. “Look here, -Jacque,” says he, “did you ever see the like before in your life?” “No, -never,” says I; and added very innocently, “Must we have it all?” “We -have it!” says he, “who should have it?” “Why,” says I, “must the man -have none of it again that lost it?” “He have it again!” says he. “What -d’ye mean by that?” “Nay, I don’t know,” says I. “Why, you said just -now you would let him have the t’other bill again, that you said was -too big for you.” - -He laughed at me. “You are but a little boy,” says he, “that’s true, -but I thought you had not been such a child neither;” so he mighty -gravely explained the thing to me thus: that the bill of Sir Stephen -Evans was a great bill for £300, “and if I,” says he, “that am but a -poor lad, should venture to go for the money, they will presently say, -how should I come by such a bill, and that I certainly found it or -stole it; so they will stop me,” says he, “and take it away from me, -and it may bring me into trouble for it too; so,” says he, “I did say -it was too big for me to meddle with, and that I would let the man have -it again, if I could tell how. But for the money, Jacque, the money -that we have got, I warrant you he should have none of that. Besides,” -says he, “whoever he be that has lost this letter-case, to be sure, as -soon as he missed it, he would run to the goldsmith and give notice -that if anybody came for the money they would be stopped; but I am too -old for him there,” says he. - -“Why,” says I, “and what will you do with the bill? Will you throw it -away? If you do, somebody else will find it,” says I, “and they will go -and take the money.” “No, no,” says he; “then they will be stopped and -examined, as I tell you I should be.” I did not know well what all this -meant, so I talked no more about that; but we fell to handling the -money. As for me, I had never seen so much together in all my life, nor -did I know what in the world to do with it, and once or twice I was -a-going to bid him keep it for me, which would have been done like a -child indeed, for, to be sure, I had never heard a word more of it, -though nothing had befallen him. - -However, as I happened to hold my tongue as to that part, he shared the -money very honestly with me; only at the end he told me, that though it -was true he promised me half, yet as it was the first time, and I had -done nothing but look on, so he thought it was very well if I took a -little less than he did; so he divided the money, which was £12, 10s., -into two exact parts, viz., £6, 5s. in each part; then he took £1, 5s. -from my part, and told me I should give him that for hansel. “Well,” -says I, “take it, then, for I think you deserve it all:” so, however, I -took up the rest, and “What shall I do with this now,” says I, “for I -have nowhere to put it?” “Why, have you no pockets?” says he. “Yes,” -says I; “but they are full of holes.” I have often thought since that, -and with some mirth too, how I had really more wealth than I knew what -to do with; for lodging I had none, nor any box or drawer to hide my -money in; nor had I any pocket, but such as I say was full of holes. I -knew nobody in the world that I could go and desire them to lay it up -for me; for, being a poor naked, ragged boy, they would presently say I -had robbed somebody, and perhaps lay hold of me, and my money would be -my crime, as they say it often is in foreign countries. And now, as I -was full of wealth, behold I was full of care, for what to do to secure -my money I could not tell; and this held me so long, and was so -vexatious to me the next day, that I truly sat down and cried. - -Nothing could be more perplexing than this money was to me all that -night. I carried it in my hand a good while, for it was in gold, all -but 14s.; and that is to say, it was in four guineas, and that 14s. was -more difficult to carry than the four guineas. At last I sat down and -pulled off one of my shoes, and put the four guineas into that; but -after I had gone a while, my shoe hurt me so I could not go, so I was -fain to sit down again and take it out of my shoe, and carry it in my -hand. Then I found a dirty linen rag in the street, and I took that up -and wrapped it all together, and carried it in that a good way. I have -often since heard people say, when they have been talking of money that -they could not get in, “I wish I had it in a foul clout;” in truth, I -had mine in a foul clout; for it was foul, according to the letter of -that saying, but it served me till I came to a convenient place, and -then I sat down and washed the cloth in the kennel, and so then put my -money in again. - -Well, I carried it home with me to my lodging in the glass-house, and -when I went to go to sleep I knew not what to do with it. If I had let -any of the black crew I was with know of it, I should have been -smothered in the ashes for it, or robbed of it, or some trick or other -put upon me for it; so I knew not what to do, but lay with it in my -hand, and my hand in my bosom. But then sleep went from my eyes. Oh, -the weight of human care! I, a poor beggar-boy, could not sleep so soon -as I had but a little money to keep, who before that could have slept -upon a heap of brick-bats, or stones, or cinders, or anywhere, as sound -as a rich man does on his down bed, and sounder too. - -Every now and then dropping asleep, I should dream that my money was -lost, and start like one frighted; then, finding it fast in my hand, -try to go to sleep again, but could not for a long while; then drop and -start again. At last a fancy came into my head that if I fell asleep I -should dream of the money, and talk of it in my sleep, and tell that I -had money, which if I should do, and one of the rogues should hear me, -they would pick it out of my bosom, and of my hand too, without waking -me; and after that thought I could not sleep a wink more; so that I -passed that night over in care and anxiety enough; and this, I may -safely say, was the first night’s rest that I lost by the cares of this -life and the deceitfulness of riches. - -As soon as it was day I got out of the hole we lay in, and rambled -abroad in the fields towards Stepney, and there I mused and considered -what I should do with this money, and many a time I wished that I had -not had it; for, after all my ruminating upon it, and what course I -should take with it, or where I should put it, I could not hit upon any -one thing, or any possible method to secure it, and it perplexed me so -that at last, as I said just now, I sat down and cried heartily. - -When my crying was over the case was the same; I had the money still, -and what to do with it I could not tell. At last it came into my head -that I would look out for some hole in a tree, and seek to hide it -there till I should have occasion for it. Big was this discovery, as I -then thought it. I began to look about me for a tree; but there were no -trees in the fields about Stepney or Mile End that looked fit for my -purpose; and if there were any that I began to look narrowly at, the -fields were so full of people that they would see if I went to hide any -thing there; and I thought the people eyed me as it was, and that two -men in particular followed me to see what I intended to do. - -This drove me farther off, and I crossed the road at Mile End, and in -the middle of the town went down a lane that goes away to the Blind -Beggar’s at Bethnal Green. When I came a little way in the lane I found -a footpath over the fields, and in those fields several trees for my -turn, as I thought. At last one tree had a little hole in it, pretty -high out of my reach, and I climbed up the tree to get it, and when I -came there I put my hand in, and found (as I thought) a place very fit, -so I placed my treasure there, and was mighty well satisfied with it; -but, behold, putting my hand in again to lay it more commodiously, as I -thought, of a sudden it slipped away from me, and I found the tree was -hollow, and my little parcel was fallen in quite out of my reach, and -how far it might go in I knew not; so that, in a word, my money was -quite gone, irrecoverably lost. There could be no room so much as to -hope ever to see it again, for ’twas a vast great tree. - -As young as I was, I was now sensible what a fool I was before, that I -could not think of ways to keep my money, but I must come thus far to -throw it into a hole where I could not reach it. Well, I thrust my hand -quite up to my elbow, but no bottom was to be found, or any end of the -hole or cavity. I got a stick of the tree, and thrust it in a great -way, but all was one. Then I cried, nay, roared out, I was in such a -passion. Then I got down the tree again, then up again, and thrust in -my hand again till I scratched my arm and made it bleed, and cried all -the while most violently. Then I began to think I had not so much as a -halfpenny of it left for a halfpenny roll, and I was hungry, and then I -cried again. Then I came away in despair, crying and roaring like a -little boy that had been whipped; then I went back again to the tree, -and up the tree again, and thus I did several times. The last time I -had gotten up the tree I happened to come down not on the same side -that I went up and came down before, but on the other side of the tree, -and on the side of the bank also; and, behold, the tree had a great -open place in the side of it close to the ground, as old hollow trees -often have; and looking into the open place, to my inexpressible joy, -there lay my money and my linen rag, all wrapped up just as I had put -it into the hole; for the tree being hollow all the way up, there had -been some moss or light stuff, which I had not judgment enough to know -was not firm, and had given way when it came to drop out of my hand, -and so it had slipped quite down at once. - -I was but a child, and I rejoiced like a child, for I halloed quite out -loud when I saw it; then I ran to it, and snatched it up, hugged and -kissed the dirty rag a hundred times; then danced and jumped about, ran -from one end of the field to the other, and, in short, I knew not what; -much less do I know now what I did, though I shall never forget the -thing, either what a sinking grief it was to my heart when I thought I -had lost it, or what a flood of joy overwhelmed me when I had got it -again. - -While I was in the first transport of my joy, as I have said, I ran -about, and knew not what I did; but when that was over I sat down, -opened the foul clout the money was in, looked at it, told it, found it -was all there, and then I fell a-crying as savourly as I did before, -when I thought I had lost it. - -It would tire the reader should I dwell on all the little boyish tricks -that I played in the ecstasy of my joy and satisfaction when I had -found my money; so I break off here. Joy is as extravagant as grief, -and since I have been a man I have often thought, that had such a thing -befallen a man, so to have lost all he had, and not have a bit of bread -to eat, and then so strangely to find it again, after having given it -so effectually over—I say, had it been so with a man, it might have -hazarded his using some violence upon himself. - -Well, I came away with my money, and having taken sixpence out of it, -before I made it up again I went to a chandler’s shop in Mile End and -bought a halfpenny roll and a halfpenny worth of cheese, and sat down -at the door after I bought it, and ate it very heartily, and begged -some beer to drink with it, which the good woman gave me very freely. - -Away I went then for the town, to see if I could find any of my -companions, and resolved I would try no more hollow trees for my -treasure. As I came along Whitechapel I came by a broker’s shop over -against the church, where they sold old clothes, for I had nothing on -but the worst of rags; so I stopped at the shop, and stood looking at -the clothes which hung at the door. - -“Well, young gentleman,” says a man that stood at the door, “you look -wishfully. Do you see any thing you like, and will your pocket compass -a good coat now, for you look as if you belonged to the ragged -regiment?” I was affronted at the fellow. “What’s that to you,” says I, -“how ragged I am? If I had seen anything I liked, I have money to pay -for it; but I can go where I shan’t be huffed at for looking.” - -While I said thus pretty boldly to the fellow comes a woman out. “What -ails you,” says she to the man, “to bully away our customers so? A poor -boy’s money is as good as my Lord Mayor’s. If poor people did not buy -old clothes, what would become of our business?” And then turning to -me, “Come hither, child,” says she; “if thou hast a mind to anything I -have, you shan’t be hectored by him. The boy is a pretty boy, I assure -you,” says she to another woman that was by this time come to her. -“Ay,” says the t’other, “so he is, a very well-looking child, if he was -clean and well dressed, and may be as good a gentleman’s son, for -anything we know, as any of those that are well dressed. Come, my -dear,” says she, “tell me what is it you would have.” She pleased me -mightily to hear her talk of my being a gentleman’s son, and it brought -former things to my mind; but when she talked of my being not clean and -in rags, then I cried. - -She pressed me to tell her if I saw anything that I wanted. I told her -no, all the clothes I saw there were too big for me. “Come, child,” -says she, “I have two things here that will fit you, and I am sure you -want them both; that is, first, a little hat, and there,” says she -(tossing it to me), “I’ll give you that for nothing. And here is a good -warm pair of breeches; I dare say,” says she, “they will fit you, and -they are very tight and good; and,” says she, “if you should ever come -to have so much money that you don’t know what to do with it, here are -excellent good pockets,” says she, “and a little fob to put your gold -in, or your watch in, when you get it.” - -It struck me with a strange kind of joy that I should have a place to -put my money in, and need not go to hide it again in a hollow tree, -that I was ready to snatch the breeches out of her hands, and wondered -that I should be such a fool never to think of buying me a pair of -breeches before, that I might have a pocket to put my money in, and not -carry it about two days together in my hand, and in my shoes and I knew -not how; so, in a word, I gave her two shillings for the breeches, and -went over into the churchyard and put them on, put my money into my new -pockets, and was as pleased as a prince is with his coach and six -horses. I thanked the good woman too for the hat, and told her I would -come again when I got more money, and buy some other things I wanted; -and so I came away. - -I was but a boy, ’tis true, but I thought myself a man, now I had got a -pocket to put my money in, and I went directly to find out my companion -by whose means I got it; but I was frighted out of my wits when I heard -that he was carried to Bridewell. I made no question but it was for the -letter-case, and that I should be carried there too; and then my poor -brother Captain Jacque’s case came into my head, and that I should be -whipped there as cruelly as he was, and I was in such a fright that I -knew not what to do. - -But in the afternoon I met him; he had been carried to Bridewell, it -seems, upon that very affair, but was got out again. The case was thus: -having had such good luck at the custom-house the day before, he takes -his walk thither again, and as he was in the long-room, gaping and -staring about him, a fellow lays hold of him, and calls to one of the -clerks that sat behind, “Here,” says he, “is the same young rogue that -I told you I saw loitering about t’other day, when the gentleman lost -his letter-case and his goldsmiths’ bills; I dare say it was he that -stole them.” Immediately the whole crowd of people gathered about the -boy, and charged him point-blank; but he was too well used to such -things to be frighted into a confession of what he knew they could not -prove, for he had nothing about him belonging to it, nor had any money -but six pence and a few dirty farthings. - -They threatened him, and pulled and hauled him, till they almost pulled -the clothes off his back, and the commissioners examined him; but all -was one; he would own nothing, but said he walked up through the room, -only to see the place, both then and the time before, for he had owned -he was there before; so, as there was no proof against him of any fact, -no, nor of any circumstances relating to the letter-case, they were -forced at last to let him go. However, they made a show of carrying him -to Bridewell, and they did carry him to the gate to see if they could -make him confess anything; but he would confess nothing, and they had -no mittimus; so they durst not carry him into the house; nor would the -people have received him, I suppose, if they had, they having no -warrant for putting him in prison. - -Well, when they could get nothing out of him, they carried him into an -alehouse, and there they told him that the letter-case had bills in it -of a very great value; that they would be of no use to the rogue that -had them, but they would be of infinite damage to the gentleman that -had lost them; and that he had left word with the clerk, whom the man -that stopped this boy had called to, and who was there with him, that -he would give £30 to any one that would bring them again, and give all -the security that could be desired that he would give them no trouble, -whoever it was. - -He was just come from out of their hands when I met with him, and so he -told me all the story. “But,” says he, “I would confess nothing, and so -I got off, and am come away clear.” “Well,” says I, “and what will you -do with the letter-case and the bills? Will you not let the poor man -have his bills again?” “No, not I,” says he; “I won’t trust them. What -care I for their bills?” It came into my head, as young as I was, that -it was a sad thing indeed to take a man’s bills away for so much money, -and not have any advantage by it neither; for I concluded that the -gentleman who owned the bills must lose all the money, and it was -strange he should keep the bills, and make a gentleman lose so much -money for nothing. I remember that I ruminated very much about it, and -though I did not understand it very well, yet it lay upon my mind, and -I said every now and then to him, “Do let the gentleman have his bills -again; do, pray do;” and so I teased him, with “Do” and “Pray do,” till -at last I cried about them. He said, “What, would you have me be found -out and sent to Bridewell, and be whipped, as your brother Captain -Jacque was?” I said, “No, I would not have you whipped, but I would -have the man have his bills, for they will do you no good, but the -gentleman will be undone, it may be.” And then I added again, “Do let -him have them.” He snapped me short. “Why,” says he, “how shall I get -them to him? Who dare carry them? I dare not, to be sure, for they will -stop me, and bring the goldsmith to see if he does not know me, and -that I received the money, and so they will prove the robbery, and I -shall be hanged. Would you have me be hanged, Jacque?” - -I was silenced a good while with that, for when he said, “Would you -have me be hanged, Jacque?” I had no more to say. But one day after -this he called to me. “Colonel Jacque,” says he, “I have thought of a -way how the gentleman shall have his bills again; and you and I shall -get a good deal of money by it, if you will be honest to me, as I was -to you.” “Indeed,” says I, “Robin”—that was his name—“I will be very -honest; let me know how it is, for I would fain have him have his -bills.” - -“Why,” says he, “they told me that he had left word at the clerk’s -place in the long-room that he would give £30 to any one that had the -bills, and would restore them, and would ask no questions. Now, if you -will go, like a poor innocent boy, as you are, into the long-room and -speak to the clerk, it may do. Tell him if the gentleman will do as he -promised, you believe you can tell him who has it; and if they are -civil to you, and willing to be as good as their words, you shall have -the letter-case, and give it them.” - -I told him ay, I would go with all my heart. “But, Colonel Jacque,” -says he, “what if they should take hold of you and threaten to have you -whipped? Won’t you discover me to them?” “No,” says I; “if they would -whip me to death I won’t.” “Well, then,” says he, “there’s the -letter-case; do you go.” So he gave me directions how to act and what -to say; but I would not take the letter-case with me, lest they should -prove false, and take hold of me, thinking to find it upon me, and so -charge me with the fact; so I left it with him. And the next morning I -went to the custom-house, as was agreed. What my directions were will, -to avoid repetition, appear in what happened; it was an errand of too -much consequence indeed to be entrusted to a boy, not only so young as -I was, but so little of a rogue as I was yet arrived to the degree of. - -Two things I was particularly armed with, which I resolved upon: 1. -That the man should have his bills again; for it seemed a horrible -thing to me that he should be made to lose his money, which I supposed -he must, purely because we would not carry the letter-case home. 2. -That whatever happened to me, I was never to tell the name of my -comrade Robin, who had been the principal. With these two pieces of -honesty, for such they were both in themselves, and with a manly heart, -though a boy’s head, I went up into the long-room in the custom-house -the next day. - -As soon as I came to the place where the thing was done, I saw the man -sit just where he had sat before, and it ran in my head that he had sat -there ever since; but I knew no better; so I went up, and stood just at -that side of the writing-board that goes upon that side of the room, -and which I was but just tall enough to lay my arms upon. - -While I stood there one thrust me this way, and another thrust me that -way, and the man that sat behind began to look at me. At last he called -out to me, “What does that boy do there? Get you gone, sirrah! Are you -one of the rogues that stole the gentleman’s letter-case a Monday -last?” Then he turns his tale to a gentleman that was doing business -with him, and goes on thus: “Here was Mr. —— had a very unlucky chance -on Monday last. Did not you hear of it?” “No, not I,” says the -gentleman. “Why, standing just there, where you do,” says he, “making -his entries, he pulled out his letter-case, and laid it down, as he -says, but just at his hand, while he reached over to the standish there -for a penful of ink, and somebody stole away his letter-case.” - -“His letter-case!” says t’other. “What, and was there any bills in it?” - -“Ay,” says he, “there was Sir Stephen Evans’s note in it for £300, and -another goldsmith’s bill for about £12; and which is worse still for -the gentleman, he had two foreign accepted bills in it for a great -sum—I know not how much. I think one was a French bill for 1200 -crowns.” - -“And who could it be?” says the gentleman. - -“Nobody knows,” says he; “but one of our room-keepers says he saw a -couple of young rogues like that,” pointing at me, “hanging about here, -and that on a sudden they were both gone.” - -“Villains!” says he again. “Why, what can they do with them? They will -be of no use to them. I suppose he went immediately and gave notice to -prevent the payment.” - -“Yes,” says the clerk, “he did; but the rogues were too nimble for him -with the little bill of £12 odd money; they went and got the money for -that, but all the rest are stopped. However, ’tis an unspeakable damage -to him for want of his money.” - -“Why, he should publish a reward for the encouragement of those that -have them to bring them again; they would be glad to bring them, I -warrant you.” - -“He has posted it up at the door that he will give £30 for them.” - -“Ay; but he should add that he will promise not to stop or give any -trouble to the person that brings them.” - -“He has done that too,” says he; “but I fear they won’t trust -themselves to be honest, for fear he should break his word.” - -“Why? It is true he may break his word in that case, but no man should -do so; for then no rogue will venture to bring home anything that is -stolen, and so he would do an injury to others after him.” - -“I durst pawn my life for him, he would scorn it.” - -Thus far they discoursed of it, and then went off to something else. I -heard it all, but did not know what to do a great while; but at last, -watching the gentleman that went away, when he was gone I ran after him -to have spoken to him, intending to have broke it to him, but he went -hastily into a room or two full of people at the hither end of the -long-room; and when I went to follow, the doorkeepers turned me back, -and told me I must not go in there; so I went back, and loitered about -near the man that sat behind the board, and hung about there till I -found the clock struck twelve, and the room began to be thin of people; -and at last he sat there writing, but nobody stood at the board before -him, as there had all the rest of the morning. Then I came a little -nearer, and stood close to the board, as I did before; when, looking up -from his paper, and seeing me, says he to me, “You have been up and -down here all this morning, sirrah! What do you want? You have some -business that is not very good, I doubt.” - -“No, I han’t,” said I. - -“No? It is well if you han’t,” says he. “Pray, what business can you -have in the long-room, sir? You are no merchant.” - -“I would speak with you,” said I. - -“With me!” says he. “What have you to say to me?” - -“I have something to say,” said I, “if you will do me no harm for it.” - -“I do thee harm, child! What harm should I do thee?” and spoke very -kindly. - -“Won’t you indeed, sir?” said I. - -“No, not I, child; I’ll do thee no harm. What is it? Do you know -anything of the gentleman’s letter-case?” - -I answered, but spoke softly that he could not hear me; so he gets over -presently into the seat next him, and opens a place that was made to -come out, and bade me come in to him; and I did. - -Then he asked me again if I knew anything of the letter-case. - -I spoke softly again, and said folks would hear him. - -Then he whispered softly, and asked me again. - -I told him I believed I did, but that, indeed, I had it not, nor had no -hand in stealing it, but it was gotten into the hands of a boy that -would have burned it, if it had not been for me; and that I heard him -say that the gentleman would be glad to have them again, and give a -good deal of money for them. - -“I did say so, child,” said he; “and if you can get them for him, he -shall give you a good reward, no less than £30, as he has promised.” - -“But you said too, sir, to the gentleman just now,” said I, “that you -was sure he would not bring them into any harm that should bring them.” - -“No, you shall come to no harm. I will pass my word for it.” - -_Boy_. Nor shan’t they make me bring other people into trouble? - -_Gent_. No; you shall not be asked the name of anybody, nor to tell who -they are. - -_Boy_. I am but a poor boy, and I would fain have the gentleman have -his bills; and indeed I did not take them away, nor I han’t got them. - -_Gent_. But can you tell how the gentleman shall have them? - -_Boy_. If I can get them, I will bring them to you to-morrow morning. - -_Gent_. Can you not do it to-night? - -_Boy_. I believe I may if I knew where to come. - -_Gent_. Come to my house, child. - -_Boy_. I don’t know where you live. - -_Gent_. Go along with me now, and you shall see. - -So he carried me up into Tower Street, and showed me his house, and -ordered me to come there at five o’clock at night; which accordingly I -did, and carried the letter-case with me. - -When I came the gentleman asked me if I had brought the book, as he -called it. - -“It is not a book,” said I. - -“No, the letter-case; that’s all one,” says he. - -“You promised me,” said I, “you would not hurt me,” and cried. - -“Don’t be afraid, child,” says he. “I will not hurt thee, poor boy; -nobody shall hurt thee.” - -“Here it is,” said I, and pulled it out. - -He then brought in another gentleman, who, it seems, owned the -letter-case, and asked him if that was it, and he said, “Yes.” - -Then he asked me if all the bills were in it. - -I told him I heard him say there was one gone, but I believed there was -all the rest. - -“Why do you believe so?” says he. - -“Because I heard the boy that I believe stole them say they were too -big for him to meddle with.” - -The gentleman then that owned them said, “Where is the boy?” - -Then the other gentleman put in, and said, “No, you must not ask him -that; I passed my word that you should not, and that he should not be -obliged to tell it to anybody.” - -“Well, child,” says he, “you will let us see the letter-case opened, -and whether the bills are in it?” - -“Yes,” says I. - -Then the first gentleman said, “How many bills were there in it?” - -“Only three,” says he. “Besides the bill of £12, 10s., there was Sir -Stephen Evans’s note for £300 and two foreign bills.” - -“Well, then, if they are in the letter-case, the boy shall have £30, -shall he not?” “Yes,” says the gentleman; “he shall have it very -freely.” - -“Come, then, child,” says he, “let me open it.” - -So I gave it him, and he opened it, and there were all three bills, and -several other papers, fair and safe, nothing defaced or diminished; and -the gentleman said, “All is right.” - -Then said the first man, “Then I am security to the poor boy for the -money.” “Well, but,” says the gentleman, “the rogues have got the £12, -10s.; they ought to reckon that as part of the £30.” Had he asked me, I -should have consented to it at first word; but the first man stood my -friend. “Nay,” says he, “it was since you knew that the £12, 10s. was -received that you offered £30 for the other bills, and published it by -the crier, and posted it up at the custom-house door, and I promised -him the £30 this morning.” They argued long, and I thought would have -quarrelled about it. - -However, at last they both yielded a little, and the gentleman gave me -£25 in good guineas. When he gave it me he bade me hold out my hand, -and he told the money into my hand; and when he had done he asked me if -it was right. I said I did not know, but I believed it was. “Why,” says -he, “can’t you tell it?” I told him no; I never saw so much money in my -life, nor I did not know how to tell money. “Why,” says he, “don’t you -know that they are guineas?” No, I told him, I did not know how much a -guinea was. - -“Why, then,” says he, “did you tell me you believed it was right?” I -told him, because I believed he would not give it me wrong. - -“Poor child,” says he, “thou knowest little of the world, indeed. What -art thou?” - -“I am a poor boy,” says I, and cried. - -“What is your name?” says he. “But hold, I forgot,” said he; “I -promised I would not ask your name, so you need not tell me.” - -“My name is Jacque,” said I. - -“Why, have you no surname?” said he. - -“What is that?” said I. - -“You have some other name besides Jacque,” says he, “han’t you?” - -“Yes,” says I; “they call me Colonel Jacque.” - -“But have you no other name?” - -“No,” said I. - -“How came you to be Colonel Jacque, pray?” - -“They say,” said I, “my father’s name was Colonel.” - -“Is your father or mother alive?” said he. - -“No,” said I; “my father is dead.” - -“Where is your mother, then?” said he. - -“I never had e’er a mother,” said I. - -This made him laugh. “What,” said he, “had you never a mother? What, -then?” - -“I had a nurse,” said I; “but she was not my mother.” - -“Well,” says he to the gentleman, “I dare say this boy was not the -thief that stole your bills.” - -“Indeed, sir, I did not steal them,” said I, and cried again. - -“No, no, child,” said he, “we don’t believe you did. This is a very -clever boy,” says he to the other gentleman, “and yet very ignorant and -honest; ’tis pity some care should not be taken of him, and something -done for him. Let us talk a little more with him.” So they sat down and -drank wine, and gave me some, and then the first gentleman talked to me -again. - -“Well,” says he, “what wilt thou do with this money now thou hast it?” - -“I don’t know,” said I. - -“Where will you put it?” said he, - -“In my pocket,” said I. - -“In your pocket!” said he. “Is your pocket whole? Shan’t you lose it?” - -“Yes,” said I, “my pocket is whole.” - -“And where will you put it when you get home?” - -“I have no home,” said I, and cried again. - -“Poor child!” said he. “Then what dost thou do for thy living?” - -“I go of errands,” said I, “for the folks in Rosemary Lane.” - -“And what dost thou do for a lodging at night?” - -“I lie at the glass-house,” said I, “at night.” - -“How, lie at the glass-house! Have they any beds there?” says he. - -“I never lay in a bed in my life,” said I, “as I remember.” - -“Why,” says he, “what do you lie on at the glass-house?” - -“The ground,” says I; “and sometimes a little straw, or upon the warm -ashes.” - -Here the gentleman that lost the bills said, “This poor child is enough -to make a man weep for the miseries of human nature, and be thankful -for himself; he puts tears into my eyes.” “And into mine too,” says the -other. - -“Well, but hark ye, Jacque,” says the first gentleman, “do they give -you no money when they send you of errands?” - -“They give me victuals,” said I, “and that’s better.” - -“But what,” says he, “do you do for clothes?” - -“They give me sometimes old things,” said I, “such as they have to -spare.” - -“Why, you have never a shirt on, I believe,” said he, “have you?” - -“No; I never had a shirt,” said I, “since my nurse died.” - -“How long ago is that?” said he. - -“Six winters, when this is out,” said I. - -“Why, how old are you?” said he. - -“I can’t tell,” said I. - -“Well,” says the gentleman, “now you have this money, won’t you buy -some clothes and a shirt with some of it?” - -“Yes,” said I, “I would buy some clothes.” - -“And what will you do with the rest?” - -“I can’t tell,” said I, and cried. - -“What dost cry for, Jacque?” said he. - -“I am afraid,” said I, and cried still. - -“What art afraid of?” - -“They will know I have money.” - -“Well, and what then?” - -“Then I must sleep no more in the warm glass house, and I shall be -starved with cold. They will take away my money.” - -“But why must you sleep there no more?” - -Here the gentlemen observed to one another how naturally anxiety and -perplexity attend those that have money. “I warrant you,” says the -clerk, “when this poor boy had no money he slept all night in the -straw, or on the warm ashes in the glass-house, as soundly and as void -of care as it would be possible for any creature to do; but now, as -soon as he has gotten money, the care of preserving it brings tears -into his eyes and fear into his heart.” - -They asked me a great many questions more, to which I answered in my -childish way as well as I could, but so as pleased them well enough. At -last I was going away with a heavy pocket, and I assure you not a light -heart, for I was so frighted with having so much money that I knew not -what in the earth to do with myself. I went away, however, and walked a -little way, but I could not tell what to do; so, after rambling two -hours or thereabout, I went back again, and sat down at the gentleman’s -door, and there I cried as long as I had any moisture in my head to -make tears of, but never knocked at the door. - -I had not sat long, I suppose, but somebody belonging to the family got -knowledge of it, and a maid came and talked to me, but I said little to -her, only cried still. At length it came to the gentleman’s ears. As -for the merchant, he was gone. When the gentleman heard of me he called -me in, and began to talk with me again, and asked me what I stayed for. - -I told him I had not stayed there all that while, for I had been gone a -great while, and was come again. - -“Well,” says he, “but what did you come again for?” - -“I can’t tell,” says I. - -“And what do you cry so for?” said he. “I hope you have not lost your -money, have you?” - -No, I told him, I had not lost it yet, but was afraid I should. - -“And does that make you cry?” says he. - -I told him yes, for I knew I should not be able to keep it, but they -would cheat me of it, or they would kill me and take it away from me -too. - -“They?” says he. “Who? What sort of gangs of people art thou with?” - -I told him they were all boys, but very wicked boys; “thieves and -pickpockets,” said I, “such as stole this letter-case—a sad pack; I -can’t abide them.” - -“Well, Jacque,” said he, “what shall be done for thee? Will you leave -it with me? Shall I keep it for you?” - -“Yes,” said I, “with all my heart, if you please.” - -“Come, then,” says he, “give it me; and that you may be sure that I -have it, and you shall have it honestly again, I’ll give you a bill for -it, and for the interest of it, and that you may keep safe enough. -Nay,” added he, “and if you lose it, or anybody takes it from you, none -shall receive the money but yourself, or any part of it.” - -I presently pulled out all the money, and gave it to him, only keeping -about 15s. for myself to buy some clothes; and thus ended the -conference between us on the first occasion, at least for the first -time. Having thus secured my money to my full satisfaction, I was then -perfectly easy, and accordingly the sad thoughts that afflicted my mind -before began to vanish away. - -This was enough to let any one see how all the sorrows and anxieties of -men’s lives come about; how they rise from their restless pushing at -getting of money, and the restless cares of keeping it when they have -got it. I that had nothing, and had not known what it was to have had -anything, knew nothing of the care, either of getting or of keeping it; -I wanted nothing, who wanted everything; I had no care, no concern -about where I should get my victuals or how I should lodge; I knew not -what money was, or what to do with it; and never knew what it was not -to sleep till I had money to keep, and was afraid of losing it. - -I had, without doubt, an opportunity at this time, if I had not been -too foolish, and too much a child to speak for myself—I had an -opportunity, I say, to have got into the service, or perhaps to be -under some of the care and concern, of these gentlemen; for they seemed -to be very fond of doing some thing for me, and were surprised at the -innocence of my talk to them, as well as at the misery (as they thought -it) of my condition. - -But I acted indeed like a child; and leaving my money, as I have said, -I never went near them for several years after. What course I took, and -what befell me in that interval, has so much variety in it, and carries -so much instruction in it, that it requires an account of it by itself. - -The first happy chance that offered itself to me in the world was now -over. I had got money, but I neither knew the value of it or the use of -it; the way of living I had begun was so natural to me, I had no notion -of bettering it; I had not so much as any desire of buying me any -clothes—no, not so much as a shirt; and much less had I any thought of -getting any other lodging than in the glass-house, and loitering about -the streets, as I had done; for I knew no good, and had tasted no evil; -that is to say, the life I had led being not evil in my account. - -In this state of ignorance I returned to my really miserable life; so -it was in itself, and was only not so to me because I did not -understand how to judge of it, and had known no better. - -My comrade that gave me back the bills, and who, if I had not pressed -him, designed never to have restored them, never asked me what I had -given me, but told me if they gave me anything it should be my own; -for, as he said he would not run the venture of being seen in the -restoring them, I deserved the reward if there was any; neither did he -trouble his head with inquiring what I had, or whether I had anything -or no; so my title to what I had got was clear. - -I went now up and down just as I did before. I had money indeed in my -pocket, but I let nobody know it. I went of errands cheerfully as -before, and accepted of what anybody gave me with as much thankfulness -as ever. The only difference that I made with myself was, that if I was -hungry, and nobody employed me, or gave me anything to eat, I did not -beg from door to door, as I did at first, but went to a boiling-house, -as I said once before, and got a mess of broth and a piece of bread, -price a halfpenny; very seldom any meat; or if I treated myself, it was -a halfpennyworth of cheese; all which expense did not amount to above -twopence or three pence a week; for, contrary to the usage of the rest -of the tribe, I was extremely frugal, and I had not disposed of any of -the guineas which I had at first; neither, as I said to the -custom-house gentleman, could I tell what a guinea was made of, or what -it was worth. - -After I had been about a month thus, and had done nothing, my comrade, -as I called him, came to me one morning. “Colonel Jacque,” says he, -“when shall you and I take a walk again?” “When you will,” said I. -“Have you got no business yet?” says he. “No,” says I; and so one thing -bringing on another, he told me I was a fortunate wretch, and he -believed I would be so again, but that he must make a new bargain with -me now; “for,” says he, “colonel, the first time we always let a raw -brother come in for full share to encourage him; but afterwards, except -it be when he puts himself forward well and runs equal hazard, he -stands to courtesy; but as we are gentlemen, we always do very -honourably by one another; and if you are willing to trust it or leave -it to me, I shall do handsomely by you, that you may depend upon.” I -told him I was not able to do anything, that was certain, for I did not -understand it, and therefore I could not expect to get anything, but I -would do as he bade me; so we walked abroad together. - -We went no more to the custom-house; it was too bold a venture. -Besides, I did not care to show myself again, especially with him in -company. But we went directly to the Exchange, and we hankered about in -Castle Alley, and in Swithin’s Alley, and at the coffee-house doors. It -was a very unlucky day, for we got nothing all day but two or three -handkerchiefs, and came home to the old lodgings at the glass-house; -nor had I had anything to eat or drink all day but a piece of bread -which he gave me, and some water at the conduit at the Exchange Gate. -So when he was gone from me, for he did not lie in the glass-house, as -I did, I went to my old broth-house for my usual bait, and refreshed -myself, and the next day early went to meet him again, as he appointed -me. - -Being early in the morning, he took his walk to Billingsgate, where it -seems two sorts of people make a great crowd as soon as it is light, -and at that time a-year rather before daylight; that is to say, crimps -and the masters of coal-ships, whom they call collier-masters; and, -secondly, fishmongers, fish-sellers, and buyers of fish. - -It was the first of these people that he had his eye upon. So he gives -me my orders, which was thus: “Go you,” says he, “into all the -alehouses as we go along, and observe where any people are telling of -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 they call it, so they generally receive -their money in those alehouses; 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 I brought him word that -there was a man in such a house who had received a great deal of money -of somebody, 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?” says he; “I’ll warrant him I will have -some of it;” and in he goes. He walks up and down the house, which had -several open tables and boxes in it, and he listened to hear, if he -could, what the man’s name was; and he heard somebody call him Cullum, -or some such name. Then he watches his opportunity, and steps up to -him, and tells him a long story, that there was two gentlemen at the -Gun tavern sent him to inquire for him, and to tell him they desired to -speak with him. - -The collier-master had his money lay 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 lay by themselves; and as it was hardly -broad day, he found means in delivering his message to lay his hands -upon one of those bags, and carry it off perfectly undiscovered. - -When we had got it he came out to me, who stood but at the door, and -pulling me by the sleeve, “Run, Jacque,” says he, “for our lives;” and -away he scours, and I after him, never resting, or scarce looking about -me, till we got quite up into Fenchurch Street, through Lime Street -into Leadenhall Street, down St. Mary Axe to London Wall, then through -Bishopsgate Street and down Old Bedlam into Moorfields. By this time we -were neither of us able to run very fast; nor need we have gone so far, -for I never found that anybody pursued us. When we got into Moorfields -and began to take breath, I asked him what it was frighted him so. -“Fright me, you fool!” says he; “I have got a devilish great bag of -money.” “A bag!” said I. “Ay, ay,” said he; “let us get out into the -fields where nobody can see us, and I’ll show it you.” So away he had -me through Long Alley, and cross Hog Lane and Holloway Lane, into the -middle of the great field, which since that has been called the -Farthing Pie-House Fields. There we would have sat down, but it was all -full of water; so we went on, crossed the road at Anniseed Cleer, and -went into the field where now the great hospital stands; and finding a -by-place, we sat down, and he pulls out the bag. “Thou art a lucky boy, -Jacque,” says he; “thou deservest a good share of this job, truly; for -it is all along of thy lucky news.” So he pours it all out into my hat; -for, as I told you, I now wore a hat. - -How he did to whip away such a bag of money from any man that was awake -and in his senses I cannot tell; but there was a great deal in it, and -among it a paperful by itself. When the paper dropped out of the bag, -“Hold,” says he, “that is gold!” and began to crow and hollow like a -mad boy. But there he was baulked; for it was a paper of old -thirteenpence-halfpenny pieces, half and quarter pieces, with -ninepences and fourpence-halfpennies—all old crooked money, Scotch and -Irish coin; so he was disappointed in that. But as it was there was -about £17 or £18 in the bag, as I understood by him; for I could not -tell money, not I. - -Well, he parted this money into three; that is to say, into three -shares—two for himself and one for me, and asked if I was content. I -told him yes, I had reason to be contented. Besides, it was so much -money added to that I had left of his former adventure that I knew not -what to do with it, or with myself, while I had so much about me. - -This was a most exquisite fellow for a thief; for he had the greatest -dexterity at conveying anything away that he scarce ever pitched upon -anything in his eye but he carried it off with his hands, and never -that I know of missed his aim or was caught in the fact. - -He was an eminent pickpocket, and very dexterous at ladies’ gold -watches; but he generally pushed higher at such desperate things as -these; and he came off the cleanest and with the greatest success -imaginable; and it was in these kinds of the wicked art of thieving -that I became his scholar. - -As we were now so rich, he would not let me lie any longer in the -glass-house, or go naked and ragged as I had done, but obliged me to -buy two shirts, a waistcoat, and a greatcoat; for a greatcoat was more -for our purpose in the business we was upon than any other. So I -clothed myself as he directed, and he took me a lodging in the same -house with him, and we lodged together in a little garret fit for our -quality. - -Soon after this we walked out again, and then we tried our fortune in -the places by the Exchange a second time. Here we began to act -separately, and I undertook to walk by myself; and the first thing I -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 slipt it into his coat-pocket -again, and then out it came again, and papers were taken out and others -were 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, he might be said to throw it in rather than put it in with his -hand, and the book lay end-way, 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. - -This careless way of men putting their pocket-books into a coat-pocket, -which is so easily dived into by the least boy that has been used to -the trade, can never be too much blamed. The gentlemen are in great -hurries, their heads and thoughts entirely taken up, and it is -impossible they should be guarded enough against such little -hawk’s-eyed creatures as we were; and, therefore, they ought either -never to put their pocket-books up at all, or to put them up more -secure, or to put nothing of value into them. I happened to be just -opposite to this gentleman in that they call Swithin’s Alley, or that -alley rather which is between Swithin’s Alley and the Exchange, just by -a passage that goes out of the alley into the Exchange, when, seeing -the book pass and repass into the pocket and out of the pocket as -above, it came immediately into my head, certainly I might get that -pocket-book out if I were nimble, and I warrant Will would have it, if -he saw it go and come to and again as I did. But when I saw it hang by -the way, as I have said, “Now it is mine,” said I to myself, and, -crossing the alley, I brushed smoothly but closely by the man, with my -hand down flat to my own side, and, taking hold of it by the corner -that appeared, the book came so light into my hand, it was impossible -the gentleman should feel the least motion, or anybody else see me take -it away. I went directly forward into the broad place on the north side -of the Exchange, then scoured down Bartholomew Lane, so into Tokenhouse -Yard, into the alleys which pass through from thence to London Wall, so -through Moorgate, and sat down on the grass in the second of the -quarters of Moorfields, towards the middle field; which was the place -that Will and I had appointed to meet at if either of us got any booty. -When I came thither Will was not come; but I saw him coming in about -half-an-hour. - -As soon as Will came to me I asked him what booty he had gotten. He -looked pale, and, as I thought, frighted; but he returned, “I have got -nothing, not I; but, you lucky young dog,” says he, “what have you got? -Have not you got the gentleman’s pocket-book in Swithin’s Alley?” -“Yes,” says I, and laughed at him; “why, how did you know it?” “Know -it!” says he. “Why, the gentleman is raving and half distracted; he -stamps and cries and tears his very clothes. He says he is utterly -undone and ruined, and the folks in the alley say there is I know not -how many thousand pounds in it. What can be in it?” says Will. “Come, -let us see.” - -Well, we lay close in the grass in the middle of the quarter, so that -nobody minded us; and so we opened the pocket-book, and there was a -great many bills and notes under men’s hands; some goldsmiths’, and -some belonging to insurance offices, as they call them, and the like. -But that which was, it seems, worth all the rest was that, in one of -the folds of the cover of the book, where there was a case with several -partitions, there was a paper full of loose diamonds. The man, as we -understood afterward, was a Jew, who dealt in such goods, and who -indeed ought to have taken more care of the keeping of them. - -Now was this booty too great, even for Will himself, to manage; for -though by this time I was come to understand things better than I did -formerly, when I knew not what belonged to money, yet Will was better -skilled by far in those things than I. But this puzzled him too, as -well as me. Now were we something like the cock in the fable; for all -these bills, and I think there was one bill of Sir Henry Furness’s for -£1200, and all these diamonds, which were worth about £150, as they -said—I say, all these things were of no value to us: one little purse -of gold would have been better to us than all of it. “But come,” says -Will, “let us look over the bills for a little one.” - -We looked over all the bills, and among them we found a bill under a -man’s hand for £32. “Come,” says Will, “let us go and inquire where -this man lives.” So he went into the City again, and Will went to the -post-house, and asked there. They told him he lived at Temple Bar. -“Well,” says Will, “I will venture. I’ll go and receive the money; it -may be he has not remembered to send to stop the payment there.” - -But it came into his thoughts to take another course. “Come,” says -Will, “I’ll go back to the alley, and see if I can hear anything of -what has happened, for I believe the hurry is not over yet.” It seems -the man who lost the book was carried into the King’s Head tavern at -the end of that alley, and a great crowd was about the door. - -Away goes Will, and watches and waits about the place; and then, seeing -several people together, for they were not all dispersed, he asks one -or two what was the matter. They tell him a long story of a gentleman -who had lost his pocket-book, with a great bag of diamonds in it, and -bills for a great many thousand pounds, and I know not what; and that -they had been just crying it, and had offered £100 reward to any one -who would discover and restore it. - -“I wish,” said he to one of them that parleyed with him, “I did but -know who has it; I don’t doubt but I could help him to it again. Does -he remember nothing of anybody, boy or fellow, that was near him? If he -could but describe him, it might do.” Somebody that overheard him was -so forward to assist the poor gentleman that they went up and let him -know what a young fellow, meaning Will, had been talking at the door; -and down comes another gentleman from him, and, taking Will aside, -asked him what he had said about it. Will was a grave sort of a young -man, that, though he was an old soldier at the trade, had yet nothing -of it in his countenance; and he answered that he was concerned in -business where a great many of the gangs of little pickpockets haunted, -and if he had but the least description of the person they suspected, -he durst say he could find him out, and might perhaps get the things -again for him. Upon this he desired him to go up with him to the -gentleman, which he did accordingly; and there, he said, he sat leaning -his head back to the chair, pale as a cloth, disconsolate to a strange -degree, and, as Will described him, just like one under a sentence. - -When they came to ask him whether he had seen no boy or shabby fellow -lurking near where he stood, or passing, or repassing, and the like, he -answered, “No, not any.” Neither could he remember that anybody had -come near him. “Then,” said Will, “it will be very hard, if not -impossible, to find them out. However,” said Will, “if you think it -worth while, I will put myself among those rogues, though,” says he, “I -care not for being seen among them. But I will put in among them, and -if it be in any of those gangs, it is ten to one but I shall hear -something of it.” - -They asked him then if he had heard what terms the gentleman had -offered to have it restored; he answered, “No” (though he had been told -at the door). They answered, he had offered £100. “That is too much,” -says Will; “but if you please to leave it to me, I shall either get it -for you for less than that, or not be able to get it for you at all.” -Then the losing gentleman said to one of the other, “Tell him that if -he can get it lower, the overplus shall be to himself.” William said he -would be very glad to do the gentleman such a service, and would leave -the reward to himself. “Well, young man,” says one of the gentlemen, -“whatever you appoint to the young artist that has done this roguery -(for I warrant he is an artist, let it be who it will), he shall be -paid, if it be within the £100, and the gentleman is willing to give -you £50 besides for your pains.” - -“Truly, sir,” says Will very gravely, “it was by mere chance that, -coming by the door, and seeing the crowd, I asked what the matter was. -But if I should be instrumental to get the unfortunate gentleman his -pocket-book and the things in it again, I shall be very glad; nor am I -so rich neither, sir, but £50 is very well worth my while too.” Then he -took directions who to come to, and who to give his account to if he -learned anything, and the like. - -Will stayed so long that, as he and I agreed, I went home, and he did -not come to me till night; for we had considered before that it would -not be proper to come from them directly to me, lest they should follow -him and apprehend me. If he had made no advances towards a treaty, he -would have come back in half-an-hour, as we agreed; but staying late, -we met at our night rendezvous, which was in Rosemary Lane. - -When he came he gave an account of all the discourse, and particularly -what a consternation the gentleman was in who lost the pocket-book, and -that he did not doubt but we should get a good round sum for the -recovery of it. - -We consulted all the evening about it, and concluded he should let them -hear nothing of them the next day at all; and that the third day he -should go, but should make no discovery; only that he had got a scent -of it, and that he believed he should have it, and make it appear as -difficult as possible, and to start as many objections as he could. -Accordingly, the third day after he met with the gentleman, who, he -found, had been uneasy at his long stay, and told him they were afraid -that he only flattered them to get from them, and that they had been -too easy in letting him go without a further examination. - -He took upon him to be very grave with them, and told them that if that -was what he was like to have for being so free as to tell them he -thought he might serve them, they might see that they had wronged him, -and were mistaken by his coming again to them; that if they thought -they could do any thing by examining him, they might go about it, if -they pleased, now; that all he had to say to them was, that he knew -where some of the young rogues haunted who were famous for such things; -and that by some inquiries, offering them money, and the like, he -believed they would be brought to betray one another, and that so he -might pick it out for them; and this he would say before a justice of -peace, if they thought fit; and then all that he had to say further to -them was to tell them he had lost a day or two in their service, and -had got nothing but to be suspected for his pains, and that after that -he had done, and they might seek their goods where they could find -them. - -They began to listen a little upon that, and asked him if he could give -them any hopes of recovering their loss. He told them that he was not -afraid to tell them that he believed he had heard some news of them, -and that what he had done had prevented all the bills being burnt, book -and all; but that now he ought not to be asked any more questions till -they should be pleased to answer him a question or two. They told him -they would give him any satisfaction they could, and bid him tell what -he desired. - -“Why, sir,” says he, “how can you expect any thief that had robbed you -to such a considerable value as this would come and put himself into -your hands, confess he had your goods, and restore them to you, if you -do not give them assurance that you will not only give them the reward -you agreed to, but also give assurance that they shall not be stopped, -questioned, or called to account before a magistrate?” - -They said they would give all possible assurance of it. “Nay,” says he, -“I do not know what assurance you are able to give; for when a poor -fellow is in your clutches and has shown you your goods, you may seize -upon him for a thief, and it is plain he must be so. Then you go, take -away your goods, send him to prison, and what amends can he have of you -afterward?” - -They were entirely confounded with the difficulty; they asked him to -try if he could get the things into his hands, and they would pay him -the money before he let them go out of his hand, and he should go away -half-an-hour before they went out of the room. - -“No, gentlemen,” says he, “that won’t do now. If you had talked so -before you had talked of apprehending me for nothing, I should have -taken your words; but now it is plain you have had such a thought in -your heads, and how can I, or any one else, be assured of safety?” - -Well, they thought of a great many particulars, but nothing would do. -At length the other people who were present put in, that they should -give security to him, by a bond of £1000, that they would not give the -person any trouble whatsoever. He pretended they could not be bound, -nor could their obligation be of any value, and that their own goods -being once seen, they might seize them. “And what would it signify,” -said he, “to put a poor pick pocket to sue for his reward?” They could -not tell what to say, but told him that he should take the things of -the boy, if it was a boy, and they would be bound to pay him the money -promised. He laughed at them, and said, “No, gentlemen; as I am not the -thief, so I shall be very loth to put myself in the thief’s stead and -lie at your mercy.” - -They told him they knew not what to do then, and that it would be very -hard he would not trust them at all. He said he was very willing to -trust them and to serve them, but that it would be very hard to be -ruined and charged with the theft for endeavouring to serve them. - -They then offered to give it him under their hands that they did not in -the least suspect him; that they would never charge him with anything -about it; that they acknowledged he went about to inquire after the -goods at their request; and that if he produced them, they would pay -him so much money, at or before the delivery of them, without obliging -him to name or produce that person he had them from. - -Upon this writing, signed by three gentlemen who were present, and by -the person in particular who lost the things, the young gentleman told -them he would go and do his utmost to get the pocket-book and all that -was in it. - -Then he desired that they would in writing, beforehand, give him a -particular of all the several things that were in the book, that he -might not have it said, when he produced it, that there was not all; -and he would have the said writing sealed up, and he would make the -book be sealed up when it was given to him. This they agreed to; and -the gentleman accordingly drew up a particular of all the bills that he -remembered, as he said, was in the book, and also of the diamonds, as -follows:— - -One bill under Sir Henry Furness’s hand for £1200. - -One bill under Sir Charles Duncomb’s hand for £800, £250 endorsed off = -£550. - -One bill under the hand of J. Tassel, goldsmith, £165. - -One bill of Sir Francis Child, £39. - -One bill of one Stewart, that kept a wager-office and insurance, £350. - -A paper containing thirty-seven loose diamonds, value about £250. - -A little paper containing three large rough diamonds, and one large one -polished and cut, value £185. - -For all these things they promised, first, to give him whatever he -agreed with the thief to give him, not exceeding £50, and to give him -£50 more for himself for procuring them. - -Now he had his cue, and now he came to me, and told me honestly the -whole story as above. So I delivered him the book, and he told me that -he thought it was reasonable we should not take the full sum, because -he would seem to have done them some service, and so make them the -easier. All this I agreed to; so he went the next day to the place, and -the gentlemen met him very punctually. - -He told them at the first word he had done their work, and, as he -hoped, to their mind; and told them, if it had not been for the -diamonds, he could have got all for £10; but that the diamonds had -shone so bright in the boy’s imagination that he talked of running away -to France or Holland, and living there all his days like a gentleman; -at which they laughed. “However, gentlemen,” said he, “here is the -book;” and so pulled it out, wrapt up in a dirty piece of a coloured -handkerchief, as black as the street could make it, and sealed with a -piece of sorry wax, and the impression of a farthing for a seal. - -Upon this, the note being also unsealed, at the same time he pulled -open the dirty rag, and showed the gentleman his pocket-book; at which -he was so over-surprised with joy, notwithstanding all the preparatory -discourse, that he was fain to call for a glass of wine or brandy to -drink, to keep him from fainting. - -The book being opened, the paper of diamonds was first taken out, and -there they were every one; only the little paper was by itself; and the -rough diamonds that were in it were loose among the rest, but he owned -they were all there safe. - -Then the bills were called over one by one, and they found one bill for -£80 more than the account mentioned, besides several papers which were -not for money, though of consequence to the gentleman; and he -acknowledged that all was very honestly returned. “And now, young man,” -said they, “you shall see we will deal as honestly by you;” and so, in -the first place, they gave him £50 for himself, and then they told out -the £50 for me. - -He took the £50 for himself, and put it up in his pocket, wrapping it -in paper, it being all in gold; then he began to tell over the other -£50. But when he had told out £30, “Hold, gentlemen,” said he, “as I -have acted fairly for you, so you shall have no reason to say I do not -do so to the end. I have taken £30, and for so much I agreed with the -boy; and so there is £20 of your money again.” - -They stood looking one at another a good while, as surprised at the -honesty of it; for till that time they were not quite without a secret -suspicion that he was the thief; but that piece of policy cleared up -his reputation to them. The gentleman that had got his bills said -softly to one of them, “Give it him all.” But the other said (softly -too), “No, no; as long as he has got it abated, and is satisfied with -the £50 you have given him, ’tis very well; let it go as it ’tis.” This -was not spoke so softly but he heard it, and said, “No,” too; “I am -very well satisfied; I am glad I have got them for you;” and so they -began to part. - -But just before they were going away one of the gentlemen said to him, -“Young man, come, you see we are just to you, and have done fairly, as -you have also; and we will not desire you to tell us who this cunning -fellow is that got such a prize from this gentleman; but as you have -talked with him, prithee, can you tell us nothing of how he did it, -that we may beware of such sparks again?” - -“Sir,” says Will, “when I shall tell you what they say, and how the -particular case stood, the gentleman would blame himself more than -anybody else, or as much at least. The young rogue that catched this -prize was out, it seems, with a comrade, who is a nimble, experienced -pickpocket as most in London; but at that time the artist was somewhere -at a distance, and this boy never had picked a pocket in his life -before; but he says he stood over against the passage into the -Exchange, on the east side, and the gentleman stood just by the -passage; that he was very earnest in talking with some other gentleman, -and often pulled out this book and opened it, and took papers out and -put others in, and returned it into his coat-pocket; that the last time -it hitched at the pocket-hole, or stopt at something that was in the -pocket, and hung a little out, which the boy, who had watched it a good -while perceiving, he passes by close to the gentleman, and carried it -smoothly off, without the gentleman’s perceiving it at all.” - -He went on, and said, “’Tis very strange gentlemen should put -pocket-books which have such things in them into those loose pockets, -and in so careless a manner.” “That’s very true,” says the gentleman; -and so, with some other discourse of no great signification, he came -away to me. - -We were now so rich that we scarce knew what to do with our money; at -least I did not, for I had no relations, no friends, nowhere to put -anything I had but in my pocket. As for Will, he had a poor mother, but -wicked as himself, and he made her rich and glad with his good success. - -We divided this booty equally; for though the gaining it was mine, yet -the improving of it was his, and his management brought the money; for -neither he or I could have made anything proportionable of the thing -any other way. As for the bills, there was no room to doubt but unless -they had been carried that minute to the goldsmith’s for the money, he -would have come with notice to stop the payment, and perhaps have come -while the money was receiving, and have taken hold of the person. And -then as to the diamonds, there had been no offering them to sale by us -poor boys to anybody but those who were our known receivers, and they -would have given us nothing for them compared to what they were worth; -for, as I understood afterwards, those who made a trade of buying -stolen goods took care to have false weights, and cheat the poor devil -that stole them at least an ounce in three. - -Upon the whole, we made the best of it many ways besides. I had a -strange kind of uninstructed conscience at that time; for though I made -no scruple of getting anything in this manner from anybody, yet I could -not bear destroying their bills and papers, which were things that -would do them a great deal of hurt, and do me no good; and I was so -tormented about it that I could not rest night or day while I made the -people easy from whom the things were taken. - -I was now rich, so rich that I knew not what to do with my money or -with myself. I had lived so near and so close, that although, as I -said, I did now and then lay out twopence or threepence for mere -hunger, yet I had so many people who, as I said, employed me, and who -gave me victuals and sometimes clothes, that in a whole year I had not -quite spent the 15s. which I had saved of the custom-house gentleman’s -money; and I had the four guineas which was of the first booty before -that still in my pocket—I mean the money that I let fall into the tree. - -But now I began to look higher; and though Will and I went abroad -several times together, yet, when small things offered, as -handkerchiefs and such trifles, we would not meddle with them, not -caring to run the risk for small matters. It fell out one day that, as -we were strolling about in West Smithfield on a Friday, there happened -to be an ancient country gentleman 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 Suffolk. His -worship, for so they called him, had received the money for these -bullocks at a tavern, whose sign I forget 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 stands to cough, resting his hand with the bag of money -in it upon the 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. Says Will to me, “Stand ready.” Upon this he -makes an artificial stumble, and falls 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 gave it a quick snatch, pulled it clean away, and ran like the -wind down the Cloisters with it; turned on the left hand, as soon as I -was through, and cut into Little Britain, so into Bartholomew Close, -then across Aldersgate Street, through Paul’s Alley into Redcross -Street, and so across all the streets, through innumerable alleys, and -never stopped till I got into the second quarter of Moorfields, our old -agreed rendezvous. - -Will, in the meantime, fell down with the old gentleman, but soon got -up. The old knight, for such, it seems, he was, was frighted with the -fall, and his breath so stopped with his cough that he could not -recover himself to speak till some 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 anything for a good while; but, coughing -vehemently and looking red, till he was almost black in the face, he -cried, “The ro—hegh, hegh, hegh—the rogues—hegh—have got—hegh, hegh, -hegh, hegh, hegh, hegh;” then he would get a little breath, and at it -again: “The rogues—hegh, hegh;” and, after a great many heghs and -rogues, he brought it out—“have got away my bag of money!” - -All this 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 in the grass -again, and turned out the money, which proved to be eight guineas, and -£5, 12s. in silver, so that it made just £14 together. 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, nor so much as anything offered itself for an attempt. - -We took many walks of this kind, sometimes together, at a little -distance from one another, and several small hits we made; but we were -so flushed with our success that truly we were above meddling with -trifles, as I said before—no, not such things that others would have -been glad of; nothing but pocket-books, letter-cases, or sums of money -would move us. - -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 -afterward, 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 comes to a goldsmith’s shop in Lombard Street with it; paid in -the most of it there; insomuch that it grew dark, and the goldsmith -began to be shutting in shop, and candles to be lighted. 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 still some -time longer, to take notes, as I supposed, for what he had paid; and by -this time it was still darker than before. At last he comes out of the -shop, with still a pretty large bag under his arm, and walks over into -the court, which was then very dark. In the middle of the court is a -boarded entry, and farther, 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,” says Will to me; “be nimble;” and as soon as he had said so -he flies at the young man, and gives him such a violent thrust that -pushed him forward with too great a force for him to stand; and as he -strove to recover, the threshold took his feet, and he fell forward -into the other part of the court, as if he had flown in the air, with -his head lying towards the Quakers’ meeting-house. I stood ready, and -presently felt out the bag of money, which I heard fall; for it flew -out of his hand, he having his life to save, not his money. I went -forward with the money, and Will, that threw him down, finding I had -it, run backward, and as I made along Fenchurch Street, Will overtook -me, and we scoured home together. The poor young man was hurt a little -with the fall, and reported to his master, as we heard afterward, that -he was knocked down, which was not true, for neither Will or I had any -stick in our hands; but the master of the youth was, it seems, so very -thankful that his young man was not knocked down before he paid the -rest of the money (which was above £100 more) to the goldsmith, who was -Sir John Sweetapple, that he made no great noise at the loss he had, -and, as we heard afterward, only warned his apprentice to be more -careful and come no more through such places in the dark; whereas the -man had really no such deliverance as he imagined, for we saw him -before, when he had all the money about him; but it was no time of day -for such work as we had to do, so that he was in no danger before. - -This booty amounted to £29, 16s., which was £14 18s. apiece, and added -exceedingly to my store, which began now to be very much too big for my -management; and indeed I began to be now full of care for the -preservation of what I had got. I wanted a trusty friend to commit it -to; but where was such a one to be found by a poor boy bred up among -thieves? If I should have let any honest body know that I had so much -money, they would have asked me how I came by it, and would have been -afraid to take it into their hands, lest I being some time or other -catched in my rogueries, they should be counted the receivers of stolen -goods and the encouragers of a thief. - -We had, however, in the meantime a great many other successful -enterprises, some of one kind, some of another, and were never so much -as in danger of being apprehended; but my companion Will, who was now -grown a man, and encouraged by these advantages, fell into quite -another vein of wickedness, getting acquainted with a wretched gang of -fellows that turned their hands to everything that was vile. - -Will was a lusty, strong fellow, and withal very bold and daring, would -fight anybody and venture upon anything; and I found he began to be -above the mean rank of a poor pickpocket, so I saw him but seldom. -However, once coming to me in a very friendly manner, and asking me how -I went on, I told him that I used the old trade still, that I had had -two or three good jobs: one with a young woman, whose pocket I had -picked of eleven guineas; and another, a countrywoman, just come out of -a stage-coach, seeing her pull out her bag to pay the coachman; and -that I followed her till I got an opportunity, and slipped it out so -neatly that though there was £8, 17s. in it, yet she never felt it go. -And several other jobs I told him of, by which I made pretty good -purchase. “I always said you were a lucky boy, Colonel Jacque,” says -he; “but, come, you are grown almost a man now, and you shall not be -always at play at push-pin. I am got into better business, I assure -you, and you shall come into it too. I’ll bring you into a brave gang, -Jacque,” says he, “where you shall see we shall be all gentlemen.” - -Then he told me the trade itself, in short, which was with a set of -fellows that had two of the most desperate works upon their hands that -belonged to the whole art of thieving; that is to say, in the evening -they were footpads, and in the night they were housebreakers. Will told -me so many plausible stories, and talked of such great things, that, in -short, I, who had been always used to do anything he bid me do, went -with him without any hesitation. - -Nothing is more certain than that hitherto, being partly from the gross -ignorance of my untaught childhood, as I observed before, partly from -the hardness and wickedness of the company I kept; and add to these -that it was the business I might be said to be brought up to—I had, I -say, all the way hitherto, no manner of thoughts about the good or evil -of what I was embarked in; consequently I had no sense of conscience, -no reproaches upon my mind for having done amiss. - -Yet I had something in me, by what secret influence I knew not, kept me -from the other degrees of raking and vice, and, in short, from the -general wickedness of the rest of my companions. For example, I never -used any ill words, nobody ever heard me swear, nor was I given to -drink, or to love strong drink; and I cannot omit a circumstance that -very much served to prevent it. I had a strange original notion, as I -have mentioned in its place, of my being a gentleman; and several -things had casually happened in my way to increase this fancy of mine. -It happened one day, that being in the Glass-house Yard, between -Rosemary Lane and Ratcliff Highway, there came a man dressed very well, -and with a coach attending him, and he came (as I suppose) to buy -glass-bottles, or some other goods, as they sold; and in bargaining for -his goods, he swore most horrid oaths at every two or three words. At -length the master of the glass-house, an ancient, grave gentleman, took -the liberty to reprove him, which at first made him swear the worse. -After a while the gentleman was a little calmer, but still he swore -very much, though not so bad as at first. After some time the master of -the glass-house turned from him—“Really, sir,” says the good old -gentleman, “you swear so, and take God’s name in vain so, that I cannot -bear to stay with you. I would rather you would let my goods alone and -go somewhere else. I hope you won’t take it ill, but I don’t desire to -deal with anybody that does so. I am afraid my glass-house should fall -on your head while you stay in it.” - -The gentleman grew good-humoured at the reproof, and said, “Well, come, -don’t go away; I won’t swear any more,” says he, “if I can help it; for -I own,” says he, “I should not do it.” - -With that the old gentleman looked up at him, and, returning, “Really, -sir,” says he, “’tis pity you, that seem to be a fine gentleman, -well-bred and good-humoured, should accustom yourself to such a hateful -practice. Why, ’tis not like a gentleman to swear; ’tis enough for my -black wretches that work there at the furnace, or for these ragged, -naked, blackguard boys,” pointing at me, and some others of the dirty -crew that lay in the ashes. “’Tis bad enough for them,” says he, “and -they ought to be corrected for it, too; but for a man of breeding, -sir,” says he, “a gentleman, it ought to be looked upon as below them. -Gentlemen know better, and are taught better, and it is plain you know -better. I beseech you, sir, when you are tempted to swear, always ask -yourself, ‘Is this like a gentleman? Does this become me as a -gentleman?’ Do but ask yourself that question, and your reason will -prevail—you will soon leave it off.” - -I heard all this, and it made the blood run chill in my veins when he -said swearing was only fit for such as we were. In short, it made as -great an impression upon me as it did upon the gentleman; and yet he -took it very kindly too, and thanked the old gentleman for his advice. -But from that time forward I never had the least inclination to -swearing or ill words, and abhorred it when I heard other boys do it. -As to drinking, I had no opportunity; for I had nothing to drink but -water, or small-beer that anybody gave me in charity, for they seldom -gave away strong beer; and after I had money, I neither desired strong -beer or cared to part with my money to buy it. - -Then as to principle, ’tis true I had no foundation laid in me by -education; and being early led by my fate into evil, I had the less -sense of its being evil left upon my mind. But when I began to grow to -an age of understanding, and to know that I was a thief, growing up in -all manner of villainy, and ripening apace for the gallows, it came -often into my thoughts that I was going wrong, that I was in the -high-road to the devil; and several times I would stop short, and ask -myself if this was the life of a gentleman. - -But these little things wore off again as often as they came on, and I -followed the old trade again, especially when Will came to prompt me, -as I have observed, for he was a kind of a guide to me in all these -things; and I had, by custom and application, together with seeing his -way, learned to be as acute a workman as my master. - -But to go back where I left off. Will came to me, as I have said, and -telling me how much better business he was fallen into, would have me -go along with him, and I should be a gentleman. Will, it seems, -understood that word in a quite different manner from me; for his -gentleman was nothing more or less than a gentleman thief, a villain of -a higher degree than a pickpocket, and one that might do something more -wicked, and better entitling him to the gallows, than could be done in -our way. But my gentleman that I had my eye upon was another thing -quite, though I could not really tell how to describe it either. - -However, the word took with me, and I went with him. We were neither of -us old. Will was about twenty-four; and as for me, I was now about -eighteen, and pretty tall of my age. - -The first time I went with him, he brought me into the company only 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 toward a -place called Pindar of Wakefield, where are abundance of brick-kilns. -Here it was agreed to spread from the field-path to the roadway, all -the way towards Pancras Church, to observe any chance game, as they -called it, which 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. 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 steps up to the gentleman, stops 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 in 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 that -moment, while this was doing, comes a hackney-coach along the road, and -the fourth man, who was that way, cries, “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 -considerable patient, and, I suppose, had had considerable fees. For -here they got two good 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 most of it 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 over on that side. -Then he carried him a little out of the way, 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 11s. 6d. in his pocket, which Will took, and came back to -the rest; but while they were together, I, who was on the side of the -Pindar of Wakefield, cried, “Mark, ho!” too. - -What I saw was a couple of poor women, one a kind of a nurse, and the -other a maid-servant, going for Kentish Town. As Will knew that 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.” I went up to -them, and speaking to the elderly woman, “Nurse,” said I, “don’t be in -such haste. I want to speak with you;” at which they both stopped, and -looked a little frighted. “Don’t be frighted, sweetheart,” said I to -the maid; “a little of that money in the bottom of your pocket will -make all easy, and I will do you no harm.” By this time Will came up to -us, for they did not see him before; then they began to scream out. -“Hold!” says 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 5s. 6d., and the old woman a guinea and a shilling, crying heartily -for her money, and said it was all she had left in the world. Well, we -took it for all that, though it made my very heart bleed to see what -agony the poor woman was in at parting with it, and I asked her where -she lived. She said her name was Smith, and she lived at Kentish Town. -I said nothing to her, but bid them go on about their business, and I -gave Will the money. So in a few minutes we were all together again. -Says one of the other rogues, “Come, this is well enough for one road; -it’s time to be gone.” So we jogged away, crossing the fields, out of -the path towards Tottenham Court. “But hold!” says Will; “I must go and -untie the man.” “D—n him,” says one of them, “let him lie.” “No,” says -Will, “I won’t 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 to -call twice for him aloud. - -This made us hasten away the faster, and getting into Tottenham Court -Road, they thought it was a little too near, so they made into the town -at St. Giles’s, and crossing to Piccadilly, went to Hyde Park gate. -Here they ventured to rob another coach; that is 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 whore that he had picked up, it -seems, at the Spring Garden, a little farther. They took the -gentleman’s money, his watch, and his silver-hilted sword; but when -they come to the slut, she damned and cursed them for robbing the -gentleman of his money and leaving him 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 left that road too, and went over the -fields to Chelsea. In the way from Westminster to Chelsea we met three -gentlemen, but they were too strong for us to meddle with. They had -been afraid to come over the fields so late (for by this time it was -eight o’clock, and though the moon gave some light, yet it was too late -and too dark to be safe); so they hired three men at Chelsea, two with -pitchforks, and the third, a waterman, with a boathook staff to guard -them. We would have steered clear of them, and cared not to have them -see us, if we could help it. But they did see us, and cried, “Who comes -there?” We answered, “Friends;” and so they went on, to our great -satisfaction. - -When we came to Chelsea, it seems we had other work to do, which I had -not been made privy to; and this was a house to be robbed. They had -some intelligence, it seems, with a servant in the house, who was of -their gang. This rogue was a waiting-man, or footman, and he had a -watchword to let them in by; but this fellow, not for want of being a -villain, but by getting drunk and not minding his part of the work, -disappointed us. For he had promised to rise at two o’clock in the -morning and let us all in; but, being very drunk, and not come in at -eleven o’clock, his master ordered him to be shut out and the doors -locked up, and charged the other servants not to let him in upon any -terms whatsoever. - -We came about the house at one o’clock to make our observations, -intending to go and lie under Beaufort House wall till the clock struck -two, and then to come again; but, behold! when we came to the house, -there lay the fellow at the door fast asleep, and very drunk. Will, -who, I found, was the leader in all these things, waked the fellow, -who, as he had had about two hours’ sleep, was a little come to -himself, and told them the misfortune, as he called it, and that he -could not get in. They had some instruments about them, by which they -could have broken in by force; but Will considered that as it was but -waiting till another time, and they should be let in quietly, they -resolved to give it over for that time. - -But this was a happy drunken bout for the family; for the fellow having -let fall some words in his drink (for he was a saucy one as well as a -drunken one, and talked oddly), as that it had been better they had let -him in, and he would make them pay dear for it, or some such thing, the -master hearing of it, turned him away in the morning, and never let him -come into his house again. So, I say, it was a happy drunkenness to the -family, for it saved them from being robbed, and perhaps murdered; for -they were a cursed, bloody crew, and, as I found, were about thirteen -of them in all, whereof three of them made it their business to get -into gentlemen’s services, and so to open doors in the night, and let -the other rogues in upon them to rob and destroy them. - -I rambled this whole night with them. They went from Chelsea, being -disappointed there as above, to Kensington. There they broke into a -brewhouse and washhouse, and by that means into an out-kitchen of a -gentleman’s house, where they unhanged a small copper, and brought it -off, and stole about a hundredweight of pewter, and went clear off with -that too. And every one going their own by-ways, they found means to -get safe to their several receptacles where they used to dispose of -such things. - -We lay still the next day, and shared the effects stolen that night, of -which my share came to £8, 19s. The copper and pewter being weighed, -and cast up, a person was at hand to take it as money, at about half -value, and in the afternoon Will and I came away together. Will was -mighty full of the success we had had, and how we might be sure of the -like this way every day. But he observed that I did not seem so -elevated at the success of that night’s ramble as I used to be, and -also that I did not take any great notice of the expectations he was in -of what was to come. Yet I had said little to him at that time. - -But my heart was full of the poor woman’s case at Kentish Town, and I -resolved, if possible, to find her out and give her her money. With the -abhorrence that filled my mind at the cruelty of that act, there -necessarily followed a little distaste for the thing itself; and now it -came into my head with a double force that this was the high road to -the devil, and that certainly this was not the life of a gentleman. - -Will and I parted for that time; but next morning we met again, and -Will was mighty brisk and merry. “And now, Colonel Jacque,” says he, -“we shall be rich very quickly.” “Well,” says I, “and what shall we do -when we are rich?” “Do!” says he; “we will buy a couple of good horses, -and go farther afield.” - -“What do you mean by farther afield?” says I. “Why,” says he, “we will -take the highway like gentlemen, and then we shall get a great deal of -money indeed.” “Well,” says I, “what then?” “Why, then,” says he, “we -shall live like gentlemen.” - -“But, Will,” says I, “if we get a great deal of money, shan’t we leave -this trade off, and sit down, and be safe and quiet?” - -“Ay,” says Will; “when we have got a great estate, we shall be willing -to lay it down.” “But where,” says I, “shall we be before that time -comes, if we should drive on this cursed kind of trade?” - -“Prithee never think of that,” says Will; “if you think of those -things, you will never be fit to be a gentleman.” He touched me there -indeed, for it ran much in my mind still that I was to be a gentleman, -and it made me dumb for a while; but I came to myself after a little -while, and I said to him, pretty tartly, “Why, Will, do you call this -way of living the life of a gentleman?” - -“Why,” says Will, “why not?” - -“Why,” says I, “was it like a gentleman for me to take that 22s. from a -poor ancient woman, when she begged of me upon her knees not to take -it, and told me it was all she had in the world to buy her bread for -herself and a sick child which she had at home? Do you think I could be -so cruel, if you had not stood by and made me do it? Why, I cried at -doing it as much as the poor woman did, though I did not let you see -me.” - -“You fool you,” says Will; “you will never be fit for our business, -indeed, if you mind such things as those. I shall bring you off those -things quickly. Why, if you will be fit for business, you must learn to -fight when they resist, and cut their throats when they submit; you -must learn to stop their breath that they may beg and pray no more. -What signifies pity? Prithee, who will pity us when we come to the Old -Bailey? I warrant you that whining old woman, that begged so heartily -for her 22s., would let you and I beg upon our knees, and would not -save our lives by not coming in for an evidence against us. Did you -ever see any of them cry when they see gentlemen go to the gallows?” - -“Well, Will,” says I, “you had better let us keep to the business we -were in before. There were no such cruel doings in that, and yet we got -more money by it than I believe we shall get at this.” - -“No, no,” says Will, “you are a fool; you don’t know what fine things -we shall do in a little while.” - -Upon this discourse we parted for that time; but I resolved with myself -that I would never be concerned with him that way any more. The truth -is, they were such a dreadful gang, such horrid barbarous villains, -that even that little while that I was among them my very blood run -cold in my veins at what I heard, particularly the continued raving and -damning one another and themselves at every word they spoke; and then -the horrid resolutions of murder, and cutting throats, which I -perceived was in their minds upon any occasion that should present. -This appeared first in their discourse upon the disappointment they met -with at Chelsea, where the two rogues that were with us, ay, and Will -too, damned and raged that they could not get into the house, and swore -they would have cut the gentleman’s throat if they had got in, and -shook hands, damning and cursing themselves if they did not murder the -whole family as soon as Tom (that was the manservant) could get an -opportunity to let them in. - -Two days after this Will came to my lodging; for I had now got a room -by myself, had bought me tolerable good clothes and some shirts, and -began to look like other folks. But, as it happened, I was abroad upon -the scout in another way; for though I was not hardened enough for so -black a villain as Will would have had me be, yet I had not arrived to -any principle sufficient to keep me from a life, in its degree wicked -enough, which tended to the same destruction, though not in so violent -and precipitant degrees. I had his message delivered to me, which was -to meet him the next evening at such a place, and as I came in time -enough to meet, so I went to the place, but resolved beforehand that I -would not go any more with him among the gang. - -However, to my great satisfaction, I missed him; for he did not come at -all to the place, but met with the gang at another place, they having -sent for him in haste upon the notice of some booty; and so they went -all away together. This was a summons, it seems, from one of the -creatures which they had abroad in a family, where an opportunity -offered them to commit a notorious robbery, down almost as far as -Hounslow, and where they wounded a gentleman’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, nor did they get in so easy, -but by the resistance they met with the neighbours were all alarmed, -and the gentlemen rogues were pursued, and being at London with the -booty, one of them was taken. Will, a dexterous fellow and head of the -gang, made his escape, and though in his clothes, with a great weight -about him of both money and plate, plunged into the Thames and swam -over where there was no path or road leading to the river; so that -nobody suspected any one’s going that way. Being got over, he made his -way, wet as he was, into some woods adjacent, and, as he told me -afterwards, not far from Chertsey, and stayed lurking about in the -woods or fields thereabouts till his clothes were dry; then, in the -night, got down to Kingston, and so to Mortlake, where he got a boat to -London. - -He knew nothing that one of his comrades was taken; only he knew that -they were all so closely pursued that they were obliged to disperse, -and every one to shift for himself. He happened to come home 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 of saving him from the gallows, discovered -his companions, and Will among the rest, as the principal party in the -whole undertaking. - -Will got notice of this just time enough to run for it and not to be -taken; and away he came to look for me; but, as my good fate still -directed, I was not at home neither. However, he left all his booty at -my lodging, and hid it in an old coat that lay under my bedding, and -left word that my brother Will had been there, and had left his coat -that he borrowed of me, and that it was under my bed. - -I knew not what to make of it, but went up to go to bed; and, finding -the parcel, was perfectly frighted to see, wrapped up in it, above one -hundred pound in plate and money, and yet knew nothing of brother Will, -as he called himself, nor did I hear of him for three or four days. - -At the end of four days I heard, by great accident, that Will, who used -to be seen with me, and who called me brother, was taken, and would be -hanged. Next day a poor man, a shoemaker, that used formerly to have a -kindness for me, and to send me of errands, and gave me sometimes some -victuals, seeing me accidentally in Rosemary Lane, going by him, -clasped me fast hold by the arm. “Hark ye, young man,” says he, “have I -catched you?” and hauled me along as if I had been a thief apprehended, -and he the constable. “Hark ye, Colonel Jacque,” says he again, “come -along with me. I must speak with you. What, are you got into this gang -too? What, are you turned housebreaker? Come, I’ll have you hanged, to -be sure.” - -These were dreadful words to me, who, though not guilty of the -particular thing in question, yet was frighted heartily before, and did -not know what I might be charged with by Will, if he was taken, as I -heard that very morning he was. With these words, the shoemaker began -to hale and drag me along as he used to do when I was a boy. - -However, recovering my spirits, and provoked to the highest degree, I -said to him again, “What do you mean, Mr. ——? Let me alone, or you will -oblige me to make you do it;” and with that I stopped short, and soon -let him see I was grown a little too big to be haled about as I used to -be when I run of his errands, and made a motion with my other hand as -if I would strike him in the face. - -“How, Jacque!” says he; “will you strike me? Will you strike your old -friend?” and then he let go my arm, and laughed. “Well, but hark ye, -colonel,” says he, “I am in earnest. I hear bad news of you. They say -you are gotten into bad company, and that this Will calls you brother. -He is a great villain, and I hear he is charged with a bloody robbery, -and will be hanged if he is taken. I hope you are not concerned with -him. If you are, I would advise you to shift for yourself, for the -constable and the headborough are after him to-day, and if he can lay -any thing to you he will do it, you may be sure. He will certainly hang -you to save himself.” - -This was kind, and I thanked him, but told him this was a thing too -serious, and that had too much weight in it, to be jested with, as he -had done before; and that some ignorant stranger might have seized upon -me as a person guilty, who had no further concern in it than just -knowing the man, and so I might have been brought into trouble for -nothing. At least people might have thought I was among them, whether I -was or no, and it would have rendered me suspected, though I was -innocent. - -He acknowledged that; told me he was but in jest, and that he talked to -me just as he used to do. - -“However, colonel,” says he, “I won’t jest any more with you in a thing -of such a dangerous consequence; I only advise you to keep the fellow -company no more.” - -I thanked him, and went away, but in the greatest perplexity -imaginable. And now, not knowing what to do with myself, or with the -little ill-gotten wealth which I had, I went musing and alone into the -fields towards Stepney, my usual walk, and there began to consider what -to do. And as this creature had left his prize in my garret, I began to -think that if he should be taken, and should confess and send the -officers to search there for the goods, and they should find them, I -should be undone, and should be taken up for a confederate; whereas I -knew nothing of the matter, and had no hand in it. - -While I was thus musing, and in great perplexity, I heard somebody -halloo to me; and, looking about, I saw Will running after me. I knew -not what to think at first, but seeing him alone, was the more -encouraged, and I stood still for him. When he came up to me I said to -him, “What is the matter, Will?” “Matter!” says Will. “Matter enough; I -am undone. When was you at home?” - -“I saw what you left there,” says I. “What is the meaning of it, and -where got you all that? Is that your being undone?” - -“Ay,” says Will, “I am undone for all that; for the officers are after -me; and I am a dead dog if I am taken, for George is in custody, and he -has peached on me and all the others to save his life.” - -“Life!” says I; “why should you lose your life if they should take you? -Pray what would they do to you?” - -“Do to me!” says he; “they would hang me, if the king had ne’er another -soldier in his guards. I shall certainly be hanged as I am now alive.” - -This frighted me terribly, and I said, “And what will you do then?” -“Nay,” says he, “I know not. I would get out of the nation, if I knew -how; but I am a stranger to all those things, and I know not what to -do, not I. Advise me, Jacque,” says he; “prithee tell me whither shall -I go. I have a good mind to go to sea.” - -“You talk of going away,” says I; “what will you do with all you have -hid in my garret? It must not lie there,” said I; “for if I should be -taken up for it, and it be found to be the money you stole, I shall be -ruined.” - -“I care not what becomes of it, not I,” says Will. “I’ll be gone. Do -you take it, if you will, and do what you will with it. I must fly, and -I cannot take it with me.” “I won’t have it, not I,” says I to him. -“I’ll go and fetch it to you if you will take it,” says I; “but I won’t -meddle with it. Besides, there is plate. What shall I do with plate?” -said I. “If I should offer to sell it anywhere,” said I, “they will -stop me.” - -“As for that,” says Will, “I could sell it well enough, if I had it; -but I must not be seen anywhere among my old acquaintance; for I am -blown, and they will all betray me. But I will tell you where you shall -go and sell it, if you will, and they will ask you no questions, if you -give them the word that I will give you.” So he gave me the word, and -directions to a pawnbroker near Cloth Fair. The word was _Good tower -standard_. Having these instructions, he said to me, “Colonel Jacque, I -am sure you won’t betray me; and I promise you, if I am taken, and -should be hanged, I won’t name you. I will go to such a house” (naming -a house at Bromley, by Bow, where he and I had often been), “and -there,” says he, “I’ll stay till it is dark. At night I will come near -the streets, and I will lay under such a haystack all night” (a place -we both knew also very well); “and if you cannot finish to come to me -there, I will go back to Bow.” - -I went back and took the cargo, went to the place by Cloth Fair, and -gave the word _Good tower standard_; and without any words, they took -the plate, weighed it, and paid me after the rate of 2s. per ounce for -it. So I came away and went to meet him, but it was too late to meet -him at the first place; but I went to the haystack, and there I found -him fast asleep. - -I delivered him his cargo. What it really amounted to I knew not, for I -never told it; but I went home to my quarters very late and tired. I -went to sleep at first, but, notwithstanding I was so weary, I slept -little or none for several hours. At last, being overcome with sleep, I -dropped, but was immediately roused with noise of people knocking at -the door, as if they would beat it down, and crying and calling out to -the people of the house, “Rise, and let in the constable here. We come -for your lodger in the garret.” - -I was frighted to the last degree, and started up in my bed; but when I -was awaked I heard no noise at all, but of two watchmen thumping at the -doors with their staves, and giving the hour, “Past three o’clock, and -a rainy, wet morning”—for such it was. I was very glad when I found it -was but a dream, and went to bed again, but was soon roused a second -time with the same, very same noise and words. Then, being sooner -awaked than I was before, I jumped out of bed and ran to the window, -and found it was just an hour more, and the watchmen were come about: -“Past four o’clock,” and they went away again very quietly; so I lay me -down again, and slept the rest of the night quietly enough. - -I laid no stress upon the thing called a dream, neither till now did I -understand that dreams were of any importance; but getting up the next -day, and going out with a resolution to meet brother Will, who should I -meet but my former brother, Captain Jacque. When he saw me, he came -close to me in his blunt way, and says, “Do you hear the news?” “No, -not I,” said I; “what news?” “Your old comrade and teacher is taken -this morning and carried to Newgate.” “How,” says I, “this morning?” -“Yes,” says he, “this morning at four o’clock. He is charged with a -robbery and murder somewhere beyond Brentford; and that which is worse -is, that he is impeached by one of the gang, who, to save his own life, -has turned evidence; and therefore you had best consider,” says the -captain, “what you have to do.” “What I have to do!” says I; “and what -do you mean by that?” “Nay, colonel,” says he, “don’t be angry; you -know best. If you are not in danger, I am glad of it, but I doubt not -but you were with them.” “No, not I,” said I again; “I assure you I was -not.” “Well,” says he, “but if you were not with them this bout, you -have been with them at other times; and ’twill be all one.” “Not I,” -says I; “you are quite mistaken. I am none of their gang; they are -above my quality.” With such, and a little more talk of that kind, we -parted, and Captain Jacque went away; but as he went I observed he -shook his head, seemed to have more concern upon him than he could be -supposed to have merely on my account, of which we shall hear more very -quickly. - -I was extremely alarmed when I heard Will was in Newgate, and, had I -known where to have gone, would certainly have fled as far as legs -would have carried me. My very joints trembled, and I was ready to sink -into the ground; and all that evening, and that night following, I was -in the uttermost consternation. My head ran upon nothing but Newgate -and the gallows, and being hanged; which, I said, I deserved, if it -were for nothing but taking that two-and-twenty shillings from the poor -old nurse. - -The first thing my perplexed thoughts allowed me to take care of was my -money. This indeed lay in a little compass, and I carried it generally -all about me. I had got together, as you will perceive by the past -account, above £60 (for I spent nothing), and what to do with it I knew -not. At last it came into my head that I would go to my benefactor, the -clerk at the custom-house, if he was to be found, and see if I could -get him to take the rest of my money. The only business was to make a -plausible story to him, that he might not wonder how I came by so much -money. - -But my invention quickly supplied that want. There was a suit of -clothes at one of our houses of rendezvous, which was left there for -any of the gang to put on, upon particular occasions, as a disguise. -This was a green livery, laced with pink-coloured galloon, and lined -with the same; an edged hat, a pair of boots, and a whip. I went and -dressed myself up in this livery, and went to my gentleman, to his -house in Tower Street, and there I found him in health and well, just -the same honest gentleman as ever. - -He stared at me when first I came to him, for I met him just at his -door; I say, he stared at me, and seeing me bow and bow to him several -times, with my laced hat under my arm, at last, not knowing me in the -least, says he to me, “Dost thou want to speak with me, young man?” And -I said, “Yes, sir; I believe your worship” (I had learnt some manners -now) “does not know me. I am the poor boy Jacque.” He looked hard at -me, and then recollecting me presently, says he, “Who—Colonel Jacque! -Why, where hast thou been all this while? Why, ’tis five or six years -since I saw you.” “’Tis above six years, and please your worship,” says -I. - -“Well, and where hast thou been all this while?” says he. - -“I have been in the country, sir,” says I, “at service.” - -“Well, Colonel Jacque,” says he, “you give long credit; what’s the -reason you han’t fetched your money all this while, nor the interest? -Why, you will grow so rich in time by the interest of your money, you -won’t know what to do with it.” - -To that I said nothing, but bowed and scraped a great many times. -“Well, come, Colonel Jacque,” said he, “come in and I will give you -your money, and the interest of it too.” - -I cringed and bowed, and told him I did not come to him for my money; -for I had had a good place or two, and I did not want my money. - -“Well, Colonel Jacque,” said he, “and who do you live with?” - -“Sir Jonathan Loxham,” said I, “sir, in Somersetshire, and please your -worship.” This was a name I had heard of, but knew nothing of any such -gentleman, or of the country. - -“Well,” says he, “but won’t you have your money, Jacque?” - -“No, sir,” said I, “if your worship would please, for I have had a good -place.” - -“If I would please to do what, prithee? Your money is ready, I tell -thee.” - -“No, sir,” said I; “but I have had a good place.” - -“Well, and what dost thou mean, Jacque? I do not understand thee.” - -“Why, and please your worship, my old master, Sir Jonathan’s father, -left me £30 when he died, and a suit of mourning, and——” - -“And what, prithee, Jacque? What, hast thou brought me more money?” For -then he began to understand what I meant. - -“Yes, sir,” said I; “and your worship would be so good to take it, and -put it all together. I have saved some, too, out of my wages.” - -“I told you, Jacque,” says he, “you would be rich. And how much hast -thou saved? Come, let me see it.” - -To shorten the story, I pulled it out, and he was content to take it, -giving me his note, with interest, for the whole sum, which amounted to -£94; that is to say, - -£25 The first money. -9 For six years’ interest. -60 Now paid him. -——— -£94 - - -I came away exceeding joyful, made him abundance of bows and scrapes, -and went immediately to shift my clothes again, with a resolution to -run away from London and see it no more for a great while. But I was -surprised the very next morning, when, going cross Rosemary Lane, by -the end of the place which is called Rag Fair, I heard one call -“Jacque.” He had said something before, which I did not hear, but upon -hearing the name Jacque I looked about me, immediately saw three men, -and after them a constable coming towards me with great fury. I was in -a great surprise, and started to run, but one of them clapped in upon -me, and got hold of me, and in a moment the rest surrounded me, and I -was taken. I asked them what they wanted, and what I had done. They -told me it was no place to talk of that there, but showed me their -warrant, and bade me read it, and I should know the rest when I came -before the justice; so they hurried me away. - -I took the warrant, but, to my great affliction, I could know nothing -by that, for I could not read; so I desired them to read it, and they -read it, that they were to apprehend a known thief, that went by the -name of one of the three Jacques of Rag Fair; for that he was charged -upon oath with having been a party in a notorious robbery, burglary, -and murder, committed so and so, in such a place, and on such a day. - -It was to no purpose for me to deny it, or to say I knew nothing of it; -that was none of their business, they said; that must be disputed, they -told me, before the justice, where I would find that it was sworn -positively against me, and then, perhaps, I might be better satisfied. - -I had no remedy but patience; and as my heart was full of terror and -guilt, so I was ready to die with the weight of it as they carried me -along. For as I very well knew that I was guilty of the first day’s -work, though I was not of the last, so I did not doubt but I should be -sent to Newgate, and then I took it for granted I must be hanged; for -to go to Newgate and to be hanged were to me as things which -necessarily followed one another. - -But I had a sharp conflict to go through before it came to that part; -and that was before the justice; where, when I was come, and the -constable brought me in, the justice asked me my name. “But hold,” says -he, “young man; before I ask you your name, let me do you justice. You -are not bound to answer till your accusers come;” so, turning to the -constable, he asked for his warrant. - -“Well,” says the justice, “you have brought this young man here by -virtue of this warrant. Is this young man the person for whom this -warrant is granted?” - -_Con_. I believe so, and please your worship. - -_Just_. Believe so! Why, are you not sure of it? - -_Con_. An’t please your worship, the people said so where I took him. - -_Just_. It is a very particular kind of warrant; it is to apprehend a -young man who goes by the name of Jacque, but no surname, only that it -is said he is called Captain Jacque, or some other such name. Now, -young man, pray is your name Captain Jacque? or are you usually called -so? - -I presently found that the men that took me knew nothing of me, and the -constable had taken me up by hearsay; so I took heart, and told the -justice that I thought, with submission, that it was not the present -question what my name was, but what these men, or any one else, had to -lay to my charge; whether I was the person who the warrant empowered -them to apprehend or no. - -He smiled. “’Tis very true, young man,” says he, “it is very true; and, -on my word, if they have taken you up, and do not know you, and there -is nobody to charge you, they will be mistaken to their own damage.” - -Then I told his worship I hoped I should not be obliged to tell my name -till my accuser was brought to charge me, and then I should not conceal -my name. - -“It is but reason,” said his good worship. “Mr. Constable,” turning to -the officers, “are you sure this is the person that is intended in your -warrant? If you are not, you must fetch the person that accuses him, -and on whose oath the warrant was granted.” They used many words to -insinuate that I was the person, and that I knew it well enough, and -that I should be obliged to tell my name. - -I insisted on the unreasonableness of it, and that I should not be -obliged to accuse myself: and the justice told them in so many words -that he could not force me to it, that I might do it if I would, -indeed; “but you see,” says the justice, “he understood too well to be -imposed upon in that case.” So that, in short, after an hour’s debating -before his worship, in which time I pleaded against four of them, the -justice told them they must produce the accuser, or he must discharge -me. - -I was greatly encouraged at this, and argued with the more vigour for -myself. At length the accuser was brought, fettered as he was, from the -gaol, and glad I was when I saw him, and found that I knew him not; -that is to say, that it was not one of the two rogues that I went out -with that night that we robbed the poor old woman. - -When the prisoner was brought into the room he was set right against -me. - -“Do you know this young man?” says the justice. - -“No, sir,” says the prisoner; “I never saw him in my life.” - -“Hum!” says the justice; “did not you charge one that goes by the name -of Jacque, or Captain Jacque, as concerned in the robbery and murder -which you are in custody for?” - -_Pris_. Yes, an’t please your worship. - -_Just_. And is this the man, or is he not? - -_Pris_. This is not the man, sir; I never saw this man before. - -“Very good, Mr. Constable,” says the justice, “what must we do now?” - -“I am surprised,” says the constable. “I was at such a house” (naming -the house), “and this young man went by. The people cried out, ’There’s -Jacque; that’s your man;’ and these people ran after him, and -apprehended him.” - -“Well,” says the justice, “and have these people anything to say to -him? Can they prove that he is the person?” - -One said no, and the other said no; and, in short, they all said no. -“Why, then,” said the justice, “what can be done? The young man must be -discharged; and I must tell you, Mr. Constable, and you gentlemen that -have brought him hither, he may give you trouble, if he thinks fit, for -your being so rash. But look you, young man,” says the justice, “you -have no great damage done you, and the constable, though he has been -mistaken, had no ill design, but to be faithful to his office. I think -you may pass it by.” - -I told his worship I would readily pass it by at his direction, but I -thought the constable and the rest could do no less than to go back to -the place where they had insulted me, and declare publicly there that I -was honourably acquitted, and that I was not the man. This his worship -said was very reasonable, and the constable and his assistants promised -to do it, and so we came all away good friends, and I was cleared with -triumph. - -_Note_.—This was the time that, as I mentioned above, the justice -talked to me, and told me I was born to better things, and that by my -well managing of my own defence, he did not question but I had been -well educated; and that he was sorry I should fall into such a -misfortune as this, which he hoped, however, would be no dishonour to -me, since I was so handsomely acquitted. - -Though his worship was mistaken in the matter of my education, yet it -had this good effect upon me, that I resolved, if possible, I would -learn to read and write, that I would not be such an uncapable -creature, that I should not be able to read a warrant, and see whether -I was the person to be apprehended or not. - -But there was something more in all this than what I have taken notice -of; for, in a word, it appeared plainly that my brother, Captain -Jacque, 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 -be afraid to fly, at the same time that he advised me to shift for -myself. - -As this presently occurred to my thoughts, so I made it my business to -inquire and find him out, and to give him notice of it. - -In the meantime, being now confident of my own safety, I had no more -concern upon my mind about myself; but now I began to be anxious for -poor Will, my master and tutor in wickedness, who was now fast by the -heels in Newgate, while I was happily at liberty; and I wanted very -much to go and see him, and accordingly did so. - -I found him in a sad condition, loaden with heavy irons, and had -himself no prospect or hope of escaping. He told me he should die, but -bid me be easy; for, as it would do him no good to accuse me, who never -was out with any of them but that once, so I might depend upon it he -would not bring me into the trouble. As for the rogue who had betrayed -them all, he was not able to hurt me, for I might be satisfied he had -never seen me in his life. “But, Colonel Jacque,” says he, “I will tell -you who was with us, and that is, your brother the captain, and the -villain has certainly named him; and, therefore,” says he, “if you can -give him timely notice of it, do, that he may make his escape.” - -He said a great many things to warn me off following the steps he had -led me. “I was far out, Jacque,” said he, “when I told you, to be a -notorious thief was to live like a gentleman.” He chiefly discovered -his concern that they had, as he feared, killed the gentleman’s -gardener, and that he in particular had given him a wound in the neck, -of which he was afraid he would die. - -He had a great sum of money in gold about him, being the same that I -had carried back to him at the haystack; and he had concealed it so -well that those who took him had not found it, and he gave me the -greatest part of it to carry to his mother, which I very honestly -delivered, and came away with a heavy heart. Nor did I ever see him -since, for he was executed in about three weeks’ time after, being -condemned that very next sessions. - -I had nothing to do now but to find the captain, who, though not -without some trouble, I at last got news of, and told him the whole -story, and how I had been taken up for him by mistake, and was come -off, but that the warrant was still out for him, and very strict search -after him; I say, telling him all this, he presently discovered by his -surprise that he was guilty, and after a few words more, told me -plainly it was all true, that he was in the robbery, and that he had -the greatest part of the booty in keeping, but what to do with it, or -himself, he did not know; and wanted me to tell him, which I was very -unfit to do, for I knew nothing of the world. Then he told me he had a -mind to fly into Scotland, which was easy to be done, and asked me if I -would go with him. I told him I would, with all my heart, if I had -money enough to bear the charge. He had the trade still in his eyes by -his answer. “I warrant you,” says he, “we will make the journey pay our -charge.” “I dare not think of going any more upon the adventure,” says -I. “Besides, if we meet with any misfortune out of our knowledge, we -shall never get out of it; we shall be undone.” “Nay,” says he; “we -shall find no mercy here, if they can catch us, and they can do no -worse abroad. I am for venturing at all events.” - -“Well, but, captain,” says I, “have you husbanded your time so ill that -you have no money to supply you in such a time as this?” “I have very -little indeed,” said he, “for I have had bad luck lately.” But he lied, -for he had a great share of the booty they had got at their last -adventure, as above; and, as the rest complained, he and Will had got -almost all of it, and kept the rest out of their shares, which made -them the willinger to discover them. - -However it was, he owned he had about £22 in money, and something that -would yield money—I suppose it was plate; but he would not tell me what -it was, or where it was. But he said he durst not go to fetch it, for -he should be betrayed and seized, so he would venture without it. -“Sure,” says he, “we shall come back again some time or other.” - -I honestly produced all the money I had, which was £16 and some odd -shillings. “Now,” says I, “if we are good husbands, and travel -frugally, this will carry us quite out of danger.” For we had both been -assured that when we came out of England we should be both safe, and -nobody could hurt us, though they had known us; but we neither of us -thought it was so many weary steps to Scotland as we found it. - -I speak of myself as in the same circumstances of danger with brother -Jacque; but it was only thus: I was in as much fear as he, but not in -quite as much danger. - -I cannot omit that, in the interval of these things, and a few days -before I carried my money to the gentleman in Tower Street, I took a -walk all alone into the fields, in order to go to Kentish Town and do -justice to the poor old nurse. It happened that, before I was aware, I -crossed a field that came to the very spot where I robbed the poor old -woman and the maid, or where, I should say, Will made me rob them. My -heart had reproached me many a time with that cruel action, and many a -time I promised to myself that I would find a way to make her -satisfaction and restore her money, and that day I had set apart for -the work, but was a little surprised that I was so suddenly upon the -unhappy spot. - -The place brought to my mind the villainy I had committed there, and -something struck me with a kind of wish—I cannot say prayer, for I knew -not what that meant—that I might leave off that cursed trade, and said -to myself, “Oh that I had some trade to live by! I would never rob no -more, for sure ’tis a wicked, abominable thing.” - -Here indeed I felt the loss of what just parents do, and ought to do, -by all their children—I mean, being bred to some trade or employment; -and I wept many times that I knew not what to do or what to turn my -hand to, though, I resolved to leave off the wicked course I was in. - -But to return to my journey. I asked my way to Kentish Town, and it -happened to be of a poor woman that said she lived there; upon which -intelligence I asked if she knew a woman that lived there whose name -was Smith. She answered yes, very well; that she was not a settled -inhabitant, only a lodger in the town, but that she was an honest, -poor, industrious woman, and by her labour and pains maintained a poor -diseased husband, that had been unable to help himself some years. - -“What a villain have I been,” said I to myself, “that I should rob such -a poor woman as this, and add grief and tears to her misery, and to the -sorrows of her house!” This quickened my resolution to restore her -money; and not only so, but I resolved I would give her something over -and above her loss. So I went forward, and by the direction I had -received, found her lodging with very little trouble. Then asking for -the woman, she came to the door immediately; for she heard me ask for -her by her name of a little girl that came first to the door. I -presently spoke to her: “Dame,” said I, “was not you robbed about a -year ago, as you was coming home from London, about Pindar of -Wakefield?” “Yes, indeed I was,” says she; “and sadly frighted into the -bargain.” “And how much did you lose?” said I. “Indeed,” says she, “I -lost all the money I had in the world. I am sure I worked hard for it; -it was money for keeping a nurse-child that I had then, and I had been -at London to receive it.” “But how much was it, dame?” said I. “Why,” -says she, “it was 22s. 6½d.; 21s. I had been to fetch, and the odd -money was my own before.” - -“Well, look you, good woman, what will you say if I should put you in a -way to get your money again? for I believe the fellow that took it is -fast enough now, and perhaps I may do you a kindness in it, and for -that I came to see you.” “Oh dear!” says the old woman, “I understand -you, but indeed I cannot swear to the man’s face again, for it was -dark; and, besides, I would not hang the poor wretch for my money; let -him live and repent.” “That is very kind,” says I—“more than he -deserves from you; but you need not be concerned about that, for he -will be hanged whether you appear against him or not; but are you -willing to have your money again that you lost?” “Yes, indeed,” says -the woman, “I should be glad of that; for I have not been so hard put -to it for money a great while as I am now; I have much ado to find us -bread to eat, though I work hard early and late;” and with that she -cried. - -I thought it would have broken my very heart, to think how this poor -creature worked and was a slave at near threescore, and that I, a young -fellow of hardly twenty, should rob her of her bread to support my -idleness and wicked life; and the tears came from my eyes in spite of -all my struggling to prevent it, and the woman perceived it too. “Poor -woman,” said I, “’tis a sad thing such creatures as these should -plunder and strip such a poor object as thou art. Well, he is at -leisure now to repent it, I assure you.” “I perceive, sir,” says she, -“you are very compassionate indeed. I wish he may improve the time God -has spared him, and that he may repent, and I pray God give him -repentance. Whoever he is, I forgive him, whether he can make me -recompense or not, and I pray God forgive him. I won’t do him any -prejudice, not I.” And with that she went on praying for me. - -“Well, dame, come hither to me,” says I; and with that I put my hand -into my pocket, and she came to me. “Hold up your hand,” said I; which -she did, and I told her nine half-crowns into her hand. “There, dame,” -said I, “is your 22s. 6d. you lost. I assure you, dame,” said I, “I -have been the chief instrument to get it off him for you; for, ever -since he told me the story of it among the rest of his wicked exploits, -I never gave him any rest till I made him promise me to make you -restitution.” All the while I held her hand and put the money into it I -looked in her face, and I perceived her colour come and go, and that -she was under the greatest surprise of joy imaginable. - -“Well, God bless him,” says she, “and spare him from the disaster he is -afraid of, if it be His will. For sure this is an act of so much -justice, and so honest, that I never expected the like.” She run on a -great while so, and wept for him when I told her I doubted there was no -room to expect his life. “Well,” says she, “then pray God give him -repentance and bring him to heaven; for sure he must have something -that is good at the bottom; he has a principle of honesty at bottom to -be sure, however he may have been brought into bad courses by bad -company or evil example, or other temptations; but I daresay he will be -brought to repentance one time or other before he dies.” - -All this touched me nearer than she imagined; for I was the man that -she prayed for all this while, though she did not know it, and in my -heart I said amen to it. For I was sensible that I had done one of the -vilest actions in the world in attacking a poor creature in such a -condition, and not listening to her entreaties when she begged so -heartily for that little money we took from her. - -In a word, the good woman so moved me with her charitable prayers that -I put my hand in my pocket again for her: “Dame,” said I, “you are so -charitable in your petitions for this miserable creature that it puts -me in mind of one thing more which I will do for him, whether he -ordered me or not; and that is, to ask your forgiveness for the thief -in robbing you. For it was an offence and a trespass against you, as -well as an injury to you; and therefore I ask your pardon for him. Will -you sincerely and heartily forgive him, dame? I do desire it of you;” -and with that I stood up, and, with my hat off, asked her pardon. “O -sir!” says she, “do not stand up, and with your hat off to me. I am a -poor woman; I forgive him, and all that were with him; for there was -one or more with him. I forgive them with all my heart, and I pray God -to forgive them.” - -“Well, dame, then,” said I, “to make you some recompense for your -charity, there is something for you more than your loss;” and with that -I gave her a crown more. - -Then I asked her who that was who was robbed with her. She said it was -a servant-maid that lived then in the town, but she was gone from her -place, and she did not know where she lived now. “Well, dame,” says I, -“if ever you do hear of her, let her leave word where she may be found; -and if I live to come and see you again, I will get the money off him -for her too. I think that was but little, was it?” “No,” says she; “it -was but 5s. 6d.,” which I knew as well as she. “Well,” says I, “dame, -inquire her out if you have an opportunity;” so she promised me she -would, and away I came. - -The satisfaction this gave me was very much; but then a natural -consequence attended it, which filled me with reflection afterwards; -and this was, that, by the same rule, I ought to make restitution to -all that I had wronged in the like manner; and what could I do as to -that? To this I knew not what to say, and so the thought in time wore -off; for, in short, it was impossible to be done. I had not ability, -neither did I know any of the people whom I had so injured; and that -satisfying me for the present, I let it drop. - -I come now to my journey with Captain Jacque, my supposed brother. We -set out from London on foot, and travelled the first day to Ware; for -we had learnt so much of our road that the way lay through that town. -We were weary enough the first day, having not been used at all to -travelling; but we made shift to walk once up and down the town after -we came into it. - -I soon found that his walking out to see the town was not to satisfy -his curiosity in viewing the place, for he had no notion of anything of -that kind, but to see if he could light of any purchase. For he was so -natural a thief that he could see nothing on the road but it occurred -to him how easily that might be taken, and how cleverly this might be -carried off, and the like. - -Nothing offered in Ware to his mind, it not being market-day; and as -for me, though I made no great scruple of eating and drinking at the -cost of his roguery, yet I resolved not to enter upon anything, as they -called it, nor to take the least thing from anybody. - -When the captain found me resolved upon the negative, he asked me how I -thought to travel. I asked him what he thought of himself, that was -sure to be hanged if he was taken, how small soever the crime was that -he should be taken for. “How can that be?” says he; “they don’t know me -in the country.” “Ay,” says I; “but do you think they do not send up -word to Newgate as soon as any thief is taken in the country, and so -inquire who is escaped from them, or who is fled, that they may be -stopped? Assure yourself,” says I, “the gaolers correspond with one -another, with the greatest exactness imaginable; and if you were taken -here but for stealing a basket of eggs, you shall have your accuser -sent down to see if he knows you.” - -This terrified him a little for a while, and kept him honest for three -or four days; but it was but for a few days indeed, for he played a -great many rogue’s tricks without me; till at last he came to his end -without me too, though it was not till many years after, as you shall -hear in its order. But as these exploits are no part of my story, but -of his, whose life and exploits are sufficient to make a volume larger -than this by itself, so I shall omit every thing but what I was -particularly concerned in during this tedious journey. - -From Ware we travelled to Cambridge, though that was not our direct -road. The occasion was this: in our way, going through a village called -Puckeridge, we baited at an inn, at the sign of the Falcon, and while -we were there a countryman comes to the inn, and hangs his horse at the -door while he goes in to drink. We sat in the gateway, having called -for a mug of beer, and drank it up. We had been talking with the -hostler about the way to Scotland, and he had bid us ask the road to -Royston. “But,” says 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, when on -the sudden comes a gentleman’s coach to the door, and three or four -horsemen. The horsemen rode into the yard, and the hostler was obliged -to go in with them. Says 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 me to follow him. We walked together to the turning. Says 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 was got up upon the -horse and at my heels. “Come, get up,” says he; “we will have a lift, -if we don’t get the horse by the bargain.” - -I made no difficulty to get up behind him, and away we went at a good -round rate, it being a good strong horse. We lost no time for an hour’s -riding and more, by which time we thought we were out of the reach of -being pursued. And as the country man, when he should miss his horse, -would hear that we inquired the way to Royston, he would certainly -pursue us that way, and not towards Cambridge. We went easier after the -first hour’s riding, and coming through a town or two, we alighted by -turns, and did not ride double through the villages. - -escaping -Escaping with the purloined horse. - - -Now, as it was impossible for the captain to pass by anything that he -could lay his hand on and not take it, so now, having a horse to carry -it off too, the temptation was the stronger. Going through a village -where a good housewife of the house had been washing, and hung her -clothes out upon a hedge near the road, he could not help it, but got -hold of a couple of good shirts that were but about half dry, and -overtook me upon the spur; for I walked on before. I immediately got up -behind, and away we galloped together as fast as the horse would well -go. In this part of our expedition his good luck or mine carried us -quite out of the road, and having seen nobody to ask the way of, we -lost ourselves, and wandered I know not how many miles to the right -hand, till, partly by that means and partly by the occasion following, -we came quite into the coach-road to Cambridge from London by -Bishop-Stortford. The particular occasion that made me wander on was -thus: the country was all open cornfields, no enclosures; when, being -upon a little rising ground, I bade him stop the horse, for I would get -down and walk a little to ease my legs, being tired with riding so long -behind without stirrups. When I was down and looked a little about me, -I saw plainly the great white road, which we should have gone, at near -two miles from us. - -On a sudden looking a little back to my left, upon that road, I saw -four or five horsemen riding full speed, some a good way before the -others, and hurrying on, as people in a full pursuit. - -It immediately struck me: “Ha! brother Jacque,” says I, “get off the -horse this moment, and ask why afterwards.” So he jumps off. “What is -the matter?” says he. “The matter!” says I. “Look yonder; it is well we -have lost our way. Do you see how they ride? They are pursuing us, you -may depend upon it. Either,” says I, “you are pursued from the last -village for the two shirts, or from Puckeridge for the horse.” He had -so much presence of mind that, without my mentioning it to him, he puts -back the horse behind a great white thorn-bush, which grew just by him; -so they could by no means see the horse, which, we being just at the -top of the hill, they might otherwise have done, and so have pursued -that way at a venture. - -But as it was impossible for them to see the horse, so was it as -impossible for them to see us at that distance, who sat down on the -ground to look at them the more securely. - -The road winding about, we saw them a great way, and they rode as fast -as they could make their horses go. When we found they were gone quite -out of sight, we mounted and made the best of our way also; and indeed, -though we were two upon one horse, yet we abated no speed where the way -would admit of it, not inquiring of anybody the way to anywhere till, -after about two hours’ riding, we came to a town, which, upon inquiry, -they called Chesterford. And here we stopped, and asked not our way to -any place, but whither that road went, and were told it was the -coach-road to Cambridge; also that it was the way to Newmarket, to St. -Edmund’s Bury, to Norwich and Yarmouth, to Lynn, and to Ely, and the -like. - -We stayed here a good while, believing ourselves secure; and -afterwards, towards evening, went forward to a place called -Bournbridge, where the road to Cambridge turns away out of the road to -Newmarket, and where there are but two houses only, both of them being -inns. Here the captain says to me, “Hark ye, you see we are pursued -towards Cambridge, and shall be stopped if we go thither. Now Newmarket -is but ten miles off, and there we may be safe, and perhaps get an -opportunity to do some business.” - -“Look ye, Jacque,” said I, “talk no more of doing business, for I will -not join with you in anything of that kind. I would fain get you to -Scotland before you get a halter about your neck. I will not have you -hanged in England, if I can help it; and therefore I won’t go to -Newmarket, unless you will promise me to take no false steps there.” -“Well,” says he, “if I must not, then I won’t; but I hope you will let -us get another horse, won’t you, that we may travel faster?” “No,” says -I, “I won’t agree to that; but if you will let me send this horse back -fairly, I will tell you how we shall hire horses afterwards, for one -stage, or two, and then take them as far as we please: it is only -sending a letter to the owner to send for him, and then, if we are -stopped, it can do us but little hurt.” - -“You are a wary, politic gentleman,” says the captain, “but I say we -are better as we are; for we are out of all danger of being stopped on -the way after we are gone from this place.” - -We had not parleyed thus long, but, though in the dead of the night, -came a man to the other inn door—for, as I said above, there are two -inns at that place—and called for a pot of beer; but the people were -all in bed, and would not rise. He asked them if they had seen two -fellows come that way upon one horse. The man said he had, that they -went by in the afternoon, and asked the way to Cambridge, but did not -stop only to drink one mug. “Oh!” says he, “are they gone to Cambridge? -Then I’ll be with them quickly.” I was awake in a little garret of the -next inn, where we lodged, and hearing the fellow call at the door, got -up and went to the window, having some uneasiness at every noise I -heard; and by that means heard the whole story. Now, the case is plain, -our hour was not come, our fate had determined other things for us, and -we were to be reserved for it. The matter was thus. When we first came -to Bournbridge, we called at the first house, and asked the way to -Cambridge, drank a mug of beer and went on, and they might see to turn -off to go the way they directed. But night coming on, and we being very -weary, we thought we should not find the way; and we came back in the -dusk of the evening, and went into the other house, being the first as -we came back, as that where we called before was the first as we went -forward. - -You may be sure I was alarmed now, as indeed I had reason to be. The -captain was in bed and fast asleep, but I wakened him, and roused him -with a noise that frighted him enough. “Rise, Jacque,” said I; “we are -both ruined; they are come after us hither.” Indeed, I was wrong to -terrify him at that rate; for he started, and jumped out of bed, and -ran directly to the window, not knowing where he was, and, not quite -awake, was just going to jump out of the window, but I laid hold of -him. “What are you going to do?” says I. “I won’t be taken,” says he. -“Let me alone. Where are they?” - -This was all confusion; and he was so out of himself with the fright, -and being overcome with sleep, that I had much to do to prevent his -jumping out of the window. However, I held him fast, and thoroughly -wakened him, and then all was well again, and he was presently -composed. - -Then I told him the story, and we sat together upon the bedside, -considering what we should do. Upon the whole, as the fellow that -called was apparently gone to Cambridge, we had nothing to fear, but to -be quiet till daybreak, and then to mount and be gone. - -Accordingly, as soon as day peeped we were up; and having happily -informed ourselves of the road at the other house, and being told that -the road to Cambridge turned off on the left hand, and that the road to -Newmarket lay straight forward—I say, having learnt this, the captain -told me he would walk away on foot towards Newmarket; and so, when I -came to go out, I should appear as a single traveller. And accordingly -he went out immediately, and away he walked; and he travelled so hard -that when I came to follow, I thought once that he had dropped me; for -though I rode hard, I got no sight of him for an hour. At length, -having passed the great bank called the Devil’s Ditch, I found him, and -took him up behind me, and we rode double till we came almost to the -end of Newmarket town. Just at the hither house in the town stood a -horse at a door, just as it was at Puckeridge. “Now,” says Jack, “if -the horse was at the other end of the town I would have him, as sure as -we had the other at Puckeridge;” but it would not do; so he got down -and walked through the town on the right-hand side of the way. - -He had not got half through the town but the horse, having somehow or -other got loose, came trotting gently on by himself, and nobody -following him. The captain, an old soldier at such work, as soon as the -horse was got a pretty way before him, and that he saw nobody followed, -sets up a run after the horse, and the horse, hearing him follow, ran -the faster. Then the captain calls out, “Stop the horse!” and by this -time the horse was got almost to the farther end of the town, the -people of the house where he stood not missing him all the while. - -Upon his calling out, “Stop the horse!” the poor people of the town, -such as were next at hand, ran from both sides the way and stopped the -horse for him, as readily as could be, and held him for him till he -came up. He very gravely comes up to the horse, hits him a blow or two, -and calls him dog for running away, gives the man twopence that catched -him for him, mounts, and away he comes after me. - -This was the oddest adventure that could have happened, for the horse -stole the captain, the captain did not steal the horse. When he came up -to me, “Now, Colonel Jacque,” says he, “what say you to good luck? -Would you have had me refuse the horse, when he came so civilly to ask -me to ride?” “No, no,” said I; “you have got this horse by your wit, -not by design; and you may go on now, I think. You are in a safer -condition than I am, if we are taken.” - -The next question was what road we should take. Here were four ways -before us, and we were alike strangers to them all. First, on the right -hand, and at about a little mile from the town, a great road went off -to St. Edmund’s Bury; straight on, but inclining afterwards to the -right, lay the great road to Barton Mills and Thetford, and so to -Norwich; and full before us lay a great road, also, to Brandon and -Lynn; and on the left lay a less road to the city of Ely, and into the -fens. - -In short, as we knew not which road to take, nor which way to get into -the great north road, which we had left, so we, by mere unguided -chance, took the way to Brandon, and so to Lynn. At Brand, or Brandon, -we were told that, passing over at a place called Downham Bridge, we -might cross the fen country to Wisbeach, and from thence go along that -bank of the river Nene to Peterborough, and from thence to Stamford, -where we were in the northern road again; and likewise, that at Lynn we -might go by the Washes into Lincolnshire, and so might travel north. -But, upon the whole, this was my rule, that, when we inquired the way -to any particular place, to be sure we never took that road, but some -other which the accidental discourse we might have should bring in. And -thus we did here; for, having chiefly asked our way into the northern -road, we resolved to go directly for Lynn. - -We arrived here very easy and safe, and while we was considering of -what way we should travel next we found we were got to a point, and -that there was no way now left but that by the Washes into -Lincolnshire, and that was represented as very dangerous; so an -opportunity offering of a man that was travelling over the fens, we -took him for our guide, and went with him to Spalding, and from thence -to a town called Deeping, and so to Stamford in Lincolnshire. - -This is a large, populous town, and it was market-day when we came to -it; so we put in at a little house at the hither end of the town, and -walked into the town. - -Here it was not possible to restrain my captain from playing his feats -of art, and my heart ached for him. I told him I would not go with him, -for he would not promise, and I was so terribly concerned at the -apprehensions of his venturous humour that I would not so much as stir -out of my lodging; but it was in vain to persuade him. He went into the -market, and found a mountebank there, which was what he wanted. How he -picked two pockets there in one quarter of an hour, and brought to our -quarters a piece of new holland of eight or nine ells, a piece of -stuff, and played three or four pranks more in less than two hours; and -how afterward he robbed a doctor of physic, and yet came off clear in -them all—this, I say, as above, belongs to his story, not mine. - -I scolded heartily at him when he came back, and told him he would -certainly ruin himself, and me too, before he left off, and threatened -in so many words that I would leave him, and go back and carry the -horse to Puckeridge where we borrowed it, and so go to London by -myself. - -He promised amendment; but as we resolved (now we were in the great -road) to travel by night, so it being not yet night, he gives me the -slip again, and was not gone half-an-hour but he comes back with a gold -watch in his hand: “Come,” says he, “why ain’t you ready to go? I am -ready to go as soon as you will;” and with that he pulls out the gold -watch. I was amazed at such a thing as that in a country town; but it -seems there was prayers at one of the churches in the evening, and he, -placing himself as the occasion directed, found the way to be so near -the lady as to get it from her side, and walked off with it -unperceived. - -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 carry it home. “Well,” says I, “you are afraid, and you have -reason. Give it me; I will venture to carry it again.” But he would not -let me, but told me that when he came into Scotland we might sell -anything there without danger; which was true indeed, for there they -asked us no questions. - -We set out, as I said, in the evening by moon light, and travelled -hard, the road being very plain and large, till we came to Grantham, by -which time it was about two in the morning, and all the town, as it -were, dead asleep. So we went on for Newark, where we reached about -eight in the morning, and there we lay down and slept most of the day; -and by this sleeping so continually in the day-time I kept him from -doing a great deal of mischief, which he would otherwise have done. - -From Newark we took advice of one that was accidentally comparing the -roads, and we concluded that the road by Nottingham would be the best -for us; so we turned out of the great road, and went up the side of the -Trent to Nottingham. Here he played his pranks again in a manner that -it was the greatest wonder imaginable to me that he was not surprised, -and yet he came off clear. And now he had got so many bulky goods that -he bought him a portmanteau to carry them in. It was in vain for me to -offer to restrain him any more; so after this he went on his own way. - -At Nottingham, I say, he had such success that made us the hastier to -be going than otherwise we would have been, lest we would have been -baulked, and should be laid hold of. From thence we left the road, -which leads to the north again, and went away by Mansfield into -Scarsdale, in Yorkshire. - -I shall take up no more of my own story with his pranks; they very well -merit to be told by themselves. But I shall observe only what relates -to our journey. In a word, I dragged him along as fast as I could, till -I came to Leeds, in Yorkshire. Here, though it be a large and populous -town, yet he could make nothing of it; neither had he any success at -Wakefield; and he told me, in short, that the north-country people were -certainly all thieves. “Why so?” said I. “The people seem to be just as -other people are.” “No, no,” says he; “they have their eyes so about -them, and are all so sharp, they look upon everybody that comes near -them to be a pickpocket, or else they would never stand so upon their -guard. And then again,” says he, “they are so poor, there is but little -to be got; and I am afraid,” says he, “the farther we go north, we -shall find it worse.” “Well,” says I, “what do you infer from thence?” -“I argue from thence,” says he, “that we shall do nothing there, and I -had as good go back into the south and be hanged as into the north to -be starved.” - -Well, we came at length to Newcastle-upon-Tyne. Here, on a market-day, -was a great throng of people, and several of the townspeople going to -market to buy provisions; and here he played his pranks, cheated a -shopkeeper of £15 or £16 in goods, and got clear away with them; stole -a horse, and sold that he came upon, and played so many pranks that I -was quite frighted for him. I say for him, for I was not concerned for -myself, having never stirred out of the house where I lodged—at least -not with him, nor without some or other with me belonging to the inn -that might give an account of me. - -Nor did I use this caution in vain; for he had made himself so public -by his rogueries that he was waylaid everywhere to be taken, and had he -not artfully at first given out that he was come from Scotland and was -going toward London, inquiring that road, and the like, which amused -his pursuers for the first day, he had been taken, and in all -probability had been hanged there. But by that artifice he got half a -day’s time of them; and yet, as it was, he was put so to it that he was -fain to plunge, horse and all, into the river Tweed, and swim over, and -thereby made his escape. It was true that he was before upon Scots -ground (as they call it), and consequently they had no power to have -carried him off, if anybody had opposed them; yet, as they were in a -full chase after him, could they have come up with him they would have -run the risk of the rest, and they could but have delivered him up if -they had been questioned about it. However, as he got over the Tweed, -and was landed safe, they could neither follow him, the water being too -high at the usual place of going over, nor could they have attempted to -have brought him away if they had taken him. The place where he took -the river was where there is a ford below Kelso, but the water being -up, the ford was not passable, and he had no time to go to the -ferry-boat, which is about a furlong off, opposite to the town. - -Having thus made his escape, he went to Kelso, where he had appointed -me to come after him. I followed with a heavy heart, expecting every -hour to meet him upon the road in the custody of the constables and -such people, or to hear of him in the gaol; but when I came to a place -on the border called Woller-haugh-head, there I understood how he had -been chased, and how he made his escape. - -When I came to Kelso he was easy enough to be found; for his having -desperately swam the Tweed, a rapid and large river, made him much -talked of, though it seems they had not heard of the occasion of it, -nor anything of his character; for he had wit enough to conceal all -that, and live as retired as he could till I came to him. - -I was not so much rejoiced at his safety as I was provoked at his -conduct; and the more, for that I could not find he had yet the least -notion of his having been void of common-sense with respect to his -circumstances, as well as contrary to what he promised me. However, as -there was no beating anything into his head by words, I only told him -that I was glad he was at last gotten into a place of safety, and I -asked him then how he intended to manage himself in that country. He -said in few words he did not know yet. He doubted the people were very -poor; but if they had any money he was resolved to have some of it. - -“But do you know, too,” says I, “that they are the severest people upon -criminals of your kind in the world?” He did not value that, he said, -in his blunt, short way; he would venture it. Upon this I told him -that, seeing it was so, and he would run such ventures, I would take my -leave of him and be gone back to England. He seemed sullen, or rather -it was the roughness of his untractable disposition. He said I might do -what I would, he would do as he found opportunity. However, we did not -part immediately, but went on towards the capital city. On the road we -found too much poverty and too few people to give him room to expect -any advantage in his way; and though he had his eyes about him as sharp -as a hawk, yet he saw plainly there was nothing to be done; for as to -the men, they did not seem to have much money about them; and for the -women, their dress was such that, had they any money, or indeed any -pockets, it was impossible to come at them; for, wearing large plaids -about them and down to their knees, they were wrapped up so close that -there was no coming to make the least attempt of that kind. - -Kelso was indeed a good town, and had abundance of people in it; and -yet, though he stayed one Sunday there, and saw the church, which is -very large and thronged with people, yet, as he told me, there was not -one woman to be seen in all the church with any other dress than a -plaid, except in two pews, which belonged to some nobleman, and who, -when they came out, were so surrounded with footmen and servants that -there was no coming near them, any more than there was any coming near -the king surrounded by his guards. - -We set out, therefore, with this discouragement, which I was secretly -glad of, and went forward to Edinburgh. All the way thither we went -through no considerable town, and it was but very coarse travelling for -us, who were strangers; for we met with waters which were very -dangerous to pass, by reason of hasty rains, at a place called -Lauderdale, and where my captain was really in danger of drowning, his -horse being driven down by the stream, and fell under him, by which he -wetted and spoiled his stolen goods that he brought from Newcastle, and -which he had kept dry strangely, by holding them up in his arms when he -swam the Tweed. But here it wanted but little that he and his horse had -been lost, not so much by the depth of the water as the fury of the -current. But he had a proverb in his favour, and he got out of the -water, though with difficulty enough, not being born to be drowned, as -I shall observe afterwards in its place. - -We came to Edinburgh the third day from Kelso, having stopped at an inn -one whole day, at a place called Soutrahill, to dry our goods and -refresh ourselves. We were oddly saluted at Edinburgh. The next day -after we came thither, my captain having a desire to walk and look -about him, asked me if I would go and see the town. I told him yes; so -we went out, and coming through a gate that they call the Nether Bow, -into the great High Street, which went up to the Cross, we were -surprised to see it thronged with an infinite number of people. “Ay,” -says my captain, “this will do.” However, as I had made him promise to -make no adventures that day, otherwise I told him I would not go out -with him, so I held him by the sleeve, and would not let him stir from -me. - -Then we came up to the Market Cross, and there besides the great number -of people who passed and repassed, we saw a great parade or kind of -meeting, like an exchange of gentlemen, of all ranks and qualities, and -this encouraged my captain again, and he pleased himself with that -sight. - -It was while we were looking, and wondering at what we saw here, that -we were surprised with a sight which we little expected. We observed -the people running on a sudden, as to see some strange thing just -coming along; and strange it was indeed: for we see two men naked from -the waist upwards run by us as swift as the wind, and we imagined -nothing but that it was two men running a race for some mighty wager. -On a sudden we found two long, small ropes or lines, which hung down at -first, pulled straight, and the two racers stopped, and stood still, -one close by the other. We could not imagine what this meant, but the -reader may judge at our surprise when we found a man follow after, who -had the ends of both those lines in his hands, and who, when he came up -to them, gave each of them two frightful lashes with a wire whip or -lash, which he held in the other hand. And then the two poor naked -wretches run on again to the length of their line or tether, where they -waited for the like salutation; and in this manner they danced the -length of the whole street, which is about half-a-mile. - -This was a dark prospect to my captain, and put him in mind, not only -of what he was to expect if he made a slip in the way of his profession -in this place, but also of what he had suffered when he was but a boy, -at the famous place called Bridewell. - -But this was not all; for, as we saw the execution, so we were curious -to examine into the crime too; and we asked a young fellow who stood -near us what the two men had done for which they suffered that -punishment. The fellow, an unhappy, ill-natured Scotchman, perceived by -our speech that we were Englishmen, and by our question that we were -strangers, told us, with a malicious wit, that they were two -Englishmen, and that they were whipped so for picking pockets, and -other petty thieveries, and that they were afterwards to be sent away -over the border into England. - -Now this was every word of it false, and was only formed by his nimble -invention to insult us as Englishmen; for when we inquired further, -they were both Scotchmen, and were thus scourged for the usual offences -for which we give the like punishment in England. And the man who held -the line and scourged them was the city hangman, who (by the way) is -there an officer of note, has a constant salary, and is a man of -substance; and not only so, but a most dexterous fellow in his office, -and makes a great deal of money of his employment. - -This sight, however, was very shocking to us; and my captain turned to -me: “Come,” says he, “let us go away; I won’t stay here any longer.” I -was glad to hear him say so, but did not think he had meant or intended -what he said. However, we went back to our quarters, and kept pretty -much within, only that in the evenings we walked about. But even then -my captain found no employment, no encouragement. Two or three times, -indeed, he made a prize of some mercery and millinery goods; but when -he had them he knew not what to do with them, so that, in short, he was -forced to be honest in spite of his goodwill to be otherwise. - -We remained here about a month, when, on a sudden, my captain was gone, -horse and all, and I 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 whither he was gone or whether -he would return to Edinburgh again or no. - -I took his leaving me very heinously, 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 make much of him; and, on the other hand, I had -a secret resolution, if I had gone back to England, to have restored -him to the owner, at Puckeridge, by Ware. And so I should have wronged -him of nothing but the use of him for so long a time; but I found an -occasion to answer all my designs about the horse to advantage. - -There came a man to the stabler—so they call the people at Edinburgh -that take in horses to keep—and wanted to know if he could hear of any -returned horses for England. My landlord, so we called him, came -bluntly to me one day, and asked me if my horse was my own. It was an -odd question, as my circumstances stood, and puzzled me at first; and I -asked why, and what was the matter. “Because,” says he, “if it be a -hired horse in England, as is often the case with Englishmen who come -to Scotland, I could help you to send it back, and get you something -for riding.” So he expressed himself. - -I was very glad of the occasion, and, in short, took security there of -the person for delivering the horse safe and sound, and had 15s. -sterling for the riding him. Upon this agreement, I gave order to leave -the horse at the Falcon, at Puckeridge, and where I heard, many years -after, that he was honestly left, and that the owner had him again, but -had nothing for the loan of him. - -Being thus eased of the expense of my horse, and having nothing at all -to do, I began to consider with 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 I would not join with -my captain in his desperate attempts, yet I made no scruple to live at -his expense, which, as I came out of England only to keep him company, -had been but just, had I not known that all he had to spend upon me was -what he robbed honest people of, and that I was all that while a -receiver of stolen goods. But I was not come off so far then as to -scruple that part at all. - -In the next place, I was not so anxious about my money running low, -because I knew what a reserve I had made at London. But still I was -very willing to have engaged in any honest employment for a livelihood, -for I was sick indeed of the wandering life which I had led, and was -resolved to thieve no more. But then two or three things which I had -offered me I lost, because I could not write or read. - -This afflicted me a great while very much; but the stabler, as I have -called him, delivered me from my anxiety that way by bringing me to an -honest but a poor young man, who undertook to teach me both to write -and read, and in a little time too, and for a small expense, if I would -take pains at it. I promised all possible diligence, and to work I went -with it, but found the writing much more difficult to me than the -reading. - -However, in half a year’s time, or thereabouts, I could read, and write -too, tolerably well, insomuch that I began to think I was now fit for -business. And I got by it into the service of a certain officer of the -customs, who employed me for a time; but as he set me to do little but -pass and repass between Leeds and Edinburgh, with the accounts which he -kept for the farmers of the customs there, leaving me to live at my own -expense till my wages should be due, I run out the little money I had -left, in clothes and subsistence, and a little before the year’s end, -when I was to have £12 English money, truly my master was turned out of -his place; and, which was worse, having been charged with some -misapplications, was obliged to take shelter in England, and so we that -were 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 I was reduced by it -to the last extremity. I might have gone for England, an English ship -being there. The master proffered me to give me my passage (upon -telling him my distress), and to take my word for the payment of 10s. -when I came there. But my captain appeared just then under new -circumstances, which obliged him not to go away, and I was loth to -leave him. It seems we were yet further to take our fate together. - -I have mentioned that he left me, and that I saw him no more for -eighteen months. His rambles and adventures were many in that time. He -went to Glasgow, played some remarkable pranks there, escaped almost -miraculously from the gallows; got over to Ireland, wandered about -there, turned raparee, and did some villainous things there, and -escaped from Londonderry, over to the Highlands in the north of -Scotland; and about a month before I was left destitute at Leith by my -master, behold! my noble Captain Jacque came in there, on board the -ferry-boat from Fife, being, after all adventures and successes, -advanced to the dignity of a foot-soldier in a body of recruits raised -in the north for the regiment of Douglas. - -After my disaster, being reduced almost as low as my captain, I found -no better shift before me, at least 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; and I confess that thing did not sit so -ill upon me as I thought at first it would have done; for though I -fared hard and lodged ill (for the last, especially, is the fate of -poor soldiers in that part of the world), yet to me that had been used -to lodge on the ashes in the glass house, this was no great matter. I -had a secret satisfaction at being now under no necessity of stealing, -and living in fear of a prison, and of the lash of the hangman—a thing -which, from the time I saw it in Edinburgh, was so terrible to me that -I could not think of it without horror. And it was an inexpressible -ease to my mind that I was now in a certain way of living, which was -honest, and which I could say was not unbecoming a gentleman. - -Whatever was my satisfaction in that part, yet other circumstances did -not equally concur to make this life suit me; for after we had been -about six months in this figure, we were informed that the recruits -were all to march for England, and to be shipped off at Newcastle, or -at Hull, to join the regiment, which was then in Flanders. - -I should tell you that, before this, I was extremely delighted with the -life of a soldier, and I took the exercise so naturally that the -sergeant that taught us to handle our arms, seeing me so ready at it, -asked me if I had never carried arms before. I told him no; at which he -swore, though jesting. “They call you colonel,” says he, “and I believe -you will be a colonel, or you must be some colonel’s bastard, or you -would never handle your arms as you do, at once or twice showing.” - -This pleased me extremely, and encouraged me, and I was mightily taken -with the life of a soldier; but when my captain came and told me the -news, that we were to march for England, and to be shipped off for -Flanders at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, I was surprised very much, and new -thoughts began to come in my mind; as, first, my captain’s condition -was particular, for he durst not appear publicly at Newcastle, as he -must have done if he had marched with the battalion (for they were a -body of above four hundred, and therefore called themselves a -battalion, though we were but recruits, and belonged to several -companies abroad)—I say, he must have marched with them, and been -publicly seen, in which case he would have been apprehended and -delivered up. In the next place I remembered that I had almost £100 in -money in London, and if it should have 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 answer in -the affirmative—£100 being at that time sufficient to buy colours in -any new regiment, though not in that regiment, which was on an old -establishment. This whetted my ambition, and I dreamt of nothing but -being a gentleman officer, as well as a gentleman soldier. - -These two circumstances concurring, I began to be very uneasy, and very -unwilling in my thoughts to go over a poor musqueteer into Flanders, to -be knocked on the head at the tune of 3s. 6d. a week. While I was daily -musing on the circumstances of being sent away, as above, and -considering what to do, my captain comes to me one evening: “Hark ye, -Jacque,” says he, “I must speak with you; let us take a walk in the -fields a little out from the houses.” We were quartered at a place -called Park End, near the town of Dunbar, about twenty miles from -Berwick-upon-Tweed, and about sixteen miles from the river Tweed, the -nearest way. - -We walked together here, and talked seriously upon the matter. The -captain told me how his case stood, and that he durst not march with -the battalion into Newcastle; that if he did he should be taken out of -the ranks and tried for his life, and that I knew as well as he. “I -could go privately to Newcastle,” says he, “and go through the town -well enough, but to go publicly is to run into the jaws of -destruction.” “Well,” says I, “that is very true; but what will you -do?” “Do!” says he. “Do you think I am so bound by honour, as a -gentleman soldier, that I will be hanged for them? No, no,” says he; “I -am resolved to be gone, and I would have you go with us.” Said I, “What -do you mean by us?” “Why, here is another honest fellow, an Englishman -also,” says he, “that is resolved to desert too, and he has been a long -while in their service, and says he knows how we shall be used abroad, -and he will not go to Flanders, says he, not he.” - -“Why,” says I, “you will be shot to death for deserters if you are -taken, and they will send out scouts for you in the morning all over -the country, so that you will certainly fall into their hands.” “As for -that,” says he, “my comrade is thoroughly acquainted with the way, and -he has undertaken to bring us to the banks of the Tweed before they can -come up with us; and when we are on the other side of the Tweed, they -can’t take us up.” - -“And when would you go away?” says I. - -“This minute,” says he; “no time to be lost; ’tis a fine moonshining -night.” - -“I have none of my baggage,” says I; “let me go back and fetch my linen -and other things.” - -“Your linen is not much, I suppose,” says he, “and we shall easily get -more in England the old way.” - -“No,” says I, “no more of your old ways. It has been owing to those old -ways that we are now in such a strait.” - -“Well, well,” says he, “the old ways are better than this starving life -of a gentleman, as we call it.” - -“But,” says I, “we have no money in our pockets. How shall we travel?” - -“I have a little,” says the captain, “enough to help us on to -Newcastle; and if we can get none by the way, we will get some -collier-ship to take us in and carry us to London by sea.” - -“I like that the best of all the measures you have laid yet,” said I; -and so I consented to go, and went off with him immediately. The -cunning rogue, having lodged his comrade a mile off under the hills, -had dragged me by talking with him, by little and little, that way, -till just when I consented he was in sight, and he said, “Look, there’s -my comrade!” who I knew presently, having seen him among the men. - -Being thus gotten under the hills, and a mile off the way, and the day -just shut in, we kept on apace, resolving, if possible, to get out of -the reach of our pursuers before they should miss us or know anything -of our being gone. - -We plied our time so well and travelled so hard that by five o’clock in -the morning, we were at a little village whose name I forget; but they -told us that we were within eight miles of the Tweed, and that as soon -as we should be over the river we were on English ground. - -We refreshed a little here, but marched on with but little stay. -However, it was half-an-hour past eight in the morning before we -reached the Tweed, so it was at least twelve miles, when they told us -it was but eight. Here we overtook two more of the same regiment, who -had deserted from Haddington, where another part of the recruits were -quartered. - -Those were Scotchmen, and very poor, having not one penny in their -pockets, and had no more when they made their escape but 8s. between -them. And when they saw us, whom they knew to be of the same regiment -they took us to be pursuers, and that we came to lay hold of them; upon -which they stood upon their defence, having the regiment swords on, as -we had also, but none of the mounting or clothing; for we were not to -receive the clothing till we came to the regiment in Flanders. - -It was not long before we made them understand that we were in the same -circumstances with themselves, and so we soon became one company; and -after resting some time on the English side of the river (for we were -heartily tired, and the others were as much fatigued as we were)—I say, -after resting awhile, we set forwards towards Newcastle, whither we -resolved to go to get our passage by sea to London; for we had not -money to hold us out any farther. - -Our money was ebbed very low; for though I had one piece of gold in my -pocket, which I kept reserved for the last extremity, yet it was but -half-a-guinea, and my captain had bore all our charges as far as his -money would go, so that when we came to Newcastle we had but sixpence -left in all to help ourselves, and the two Scots had begged their way -all along the road. - -We contrived to come into Newcastle in the dusk of the evening, and -even then we durst not venture into the public part of the town, but -made down towards the river, something below the town, where some -glass-houses stand. Here we knew not what to do with ourselves; but, -guided by our fate, we put a good face upon the matter, and went into -an alehouse, sat down, and called for a pint of beer. - -The house was kept by a woman only—that is to say, we saw no other; and -as she appeared very frank and entertained us cheerfully, we at last -told our condition, and asked her if she could not help us to some kind -master of a collier that would give us a passage to London by sea. The -subtle devil, who immediately found us proper fish for her hook, gave -us the kindest 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 particular acquaintance, that went away but with the morning tide; -that the ship was fallen down to Shields, but she believed was hardly -over the bar yet, and she would send to his house and see if he was -gone on board; for sometimes the 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 her to send to his house, for we knew not what to do, and if -she could oblige him to take us on board, we did not care what time of -night it was; for, as we had no money, we had no lodging, and we wanted -nothing but to be on board. - -We looked upon this as a mighty favour, that she sent to the master’s -house, and, to our greater 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 -the way home. - -This was all in our favour, and we were extremely pleased with it. -About an hour after, the landlady being in the room with us, her maid -brings us word the master was below. So down she goes to him, telling -us she would go and tell him our case, and see to persuade him to take -us all on board. After some time she comes up with him, and brings him -into the room to us. “Where are these honest gentlemen soldiers,” says -he, “that are in such distress?” We stood all up, and paid our respects -to him. “Well, gentlemen, 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 will be very -willing to do anything we can in the ship, though we are not seamen.” - -“Why,” says he, “were none of you ever at sea in your lives?” - -“No,” says we, “not one of us.” - -“You will be able to do me no service, then,” says he; “for you will be -all sick. Well, however,” says he, “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 -this very night?” - -“Yes, sir,” says we again; “we are ready to go this minute.” - -“No, no,” says he very kindly; “we’ll drink together. Come, landlady,” -says he, “make these honest gentlemen a sneaker of punch.” - -We looked at one another, for we knew we had no money, and he perceived -it. “Come, come,” says he, “don’t be concerned at your having no money; -my landlady here and I never part with dry lips. Come, goodwife,” says -he, “make the punch as I bid you.” - -We thanked him and said, “God bless you, noble captain,” a hundred -times over, being overjoyed with such good luck. While we were drinking -the punch he calls the landlady: “Come,” says he, “I’ll step home and -take my things, and bid them good-bye, and order the boat to come at -high water and take me up here. And pray, goodwife,” says he, “get me -something for supper. Sure, if I can give these honest men their -passage, I may give them a bit of victuals too; it may be they han’t -had much for dinner.” - -With this away he went, and in a little while we heard the jack -a-going; and one of us, going down stairs for a spy, brought us word -there was a good leg of mutton at the fire. In less than an hour our -captain came again, and came up to us, and blamed us that we had not -drank all the punch out. “Come,” says he, “don’t be bashful; when that -is out we can have another. When I am obliging poor men, I love to do -it handsomely.” - -We drank on, and drank the punch out, and more was brought up, and he -pushed it about apace; and then came up a leg of mutton, and I need not -say that we ate heartily, being told several times that we should pay -nothing. After supper was done he bids my landlady ask if the boat was -come. And she brought word no; it was not high water by a good deal. -“No!” says he. “Well, then, give us some more punch.” So more punch was -brought in, and, as was afterwards confessed, something was put into -it, or more brandy than ordinary, and by that time the punch was drunk -out we were all very drunk; and as for me, I was asleep. - -About the time that was out we were told the boat was come; so we -tumbled out, almost over one another, into the boat, and away we went, -and our captain in the boat. 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 waked 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, we were all gotten into the ship. All I remember of it was -this, that as soon as we were on board our captain, as we called him, -called out thus: “Here, boatswain, take care of these gentlemen, and -give them good cabins, and let them turn in and go to sleep, for they -are very weary;” and so indeed we were, and very drunk too, being the -first time I had ever drank punch in my life. - -Well, 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 -meantime the ship, which was indeed just ready to go, and only on -notice given had come to an anchor for us at Shields, weighed, stood -over the bar, and went off to sea; and when we waked, 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 we understood it. We were very -well used and well satisfied with our condition for about three days, -when we began to inquire whether we were not almost come, and how much -longer it would be before we should come into the river. “What river?” -says one of the men. “Why, the Thames,” says my Captain Jacque. “The -Thames!” says the seaman. “What do you mean by that? What, han’t you -had time enough to be sober yet?” So Captain Jacque said no more, but -looked about him like a fool; when, a while after, some other of us -asked the like question, and the seaman, who knew nothing of the cheat, -began to smell a trick, and turning to the other Englishman that came -with us, “Pray,” says he, “where do you fancy you are going, that you -ask so often about it?” “Why, to London,” says he. “Where should we be -going? We agreed with the captain to carry us to London.” “Not with the -captain,” says he, “I dare say. Poor men! you are all cheated; and I -thought so when I saw you come aboard with that kidnapping rogue -Gilliman. Poor men!” adds he, “you are all be trayed. Why, you are -going to Virginia, and the ship is bound to Virginia.” - -The Englishman falls a-storming and raving like a madman, and we -gathering round him, let any man guess, if they can, what was our -surprise and how we were confounded when we were told how it was. In -short, we drew our swords and began to lay about us, and made such a -noise and hurry in the ship that at last the seamen were obliged to -call out for help. The captain commanded us to be disarmed in the first -place, which was not, however, done without giving and receiving some -wounds, and afterwards he caused us to be brought to him into the great -cabin. - -Here he talked very calmly to us, that he was really very sorry for -what had befallen us; that he perceived we had been trepanned, and that -the fellow who had brought us on board was a rogue that was employed by -a sort of wicked merchants not unlike himself; that he supposed he had -been represented to us as captain of the ship, and asked us if it was -not so. We told him yes, and gave him a large account of ourselves, and -how we came to the woman’s house to inquire for some master of a -collier to get a passage to London, and that this man engaged to carry -us to London in his own ship, and the like, as is related above. - -He told us he was very sorry for it, and he had no hand in it; but it -was out of his power to help us, and let us know very plainly what our -condition was; namely, that we were put on board his ship as servants -to be delivered at Maryland to such a man, whom he named to us; but -that, however, if we would be quiet and orderly in the ship, he would -use us well in the passage, and take care we should be used well when -we came there, and that he would do anything for us that lay in his -power; but if we were unruly and refractory, we could not expect but he -must take such measures as to oblige us to be satisfied; and that, in -short, we must be handcuffed, carried down between the decks and kept -as prisoners, for it was his business to take care that no disturbance -must be in the ship. - -My captain raved like a madman, swore at the captain, told him he would -not fail to cut his throat, either on board or ashore, whenever he came -within his reach; and that, if he could not do it now, he would do it -after he came to England again, if ever he durst show his face there -again. For he might depend upon it, if he was carried away to Virginia, -he should find his way to England again; that, if it was twenty years -after, he would have satisfaction of him. “Well, young man,” says the -captain, smiling, “’tis very honestly said, and then I must take care -of you while I have you here, and afterwards I must take care of -myself.” “Do your worst,” says Jacque boldly; “I’ll pay you home for it -one time or other.” “I must venture that, young man,” says he, still -calmly, “but for the present you and I must talk a little;” so he bids -the boatswain, who stood near him, secure him, which he did. I spoke to -him to be easy and patient, and that the captain had no hand in our -misfortune. - -“No hand in it! D—n him,” said he aloud, “do you think he is not -confederate in this villainy? Would any honest man receive innocent -people on board his ship and not inquire of their circumstances, but -carry them away and not speak to them? And now he knows how barbarously -we are treated, why does he not set us on shore again? I tell you he is -a villain, and none but him. Why does he not complete his villainy and -murder us, and then he will be free from our revenge? But nothing else -shall ever deliver him from my hands but sending us to the d—l, or -going thither himself; and I am honester in telling him so fairly than -he has been to me, and am in no passion any more than he is.” - -The captain was, I say, a little shocked at his boldness, for he talked -a great deal more of the same kind, with a great deal of spirit and -fire, and yet without any disorder in his temper. Indeed I was -surprised at it, for I never had heard him talk so well and so much to -the purpose in my life. The captain was, I say, a little shocked at it. -However, he talked very handsomely to him, and said to him, “Look ye, -young man, I bear with you the more because I am sensible your case is -very hard; and yet I cannot allow your threatening me neither, and you -oblige me by that to be severer with you than I intended. However, I -will do nothing to you but what your threatening my life makes -necessary.” The boatswain called out to have him to the geers, as they -called it, and to have him taste the cat-o’-nine-tails—all which were -terms we did not understand till afterwards, when we were told he -should have been whipped and pickled, for they said it was not to be -suffered. But the captain said, “No, no; the young man has been really -injured, and has reason to be very much provoked; but I have not -injured him,” says he. And then he protested he had no hand in it, that -he was put on board, and we also, by the owner’s agent, and for their -account; that it was true that they did always deal in servants, and -carried a great many every voyage, but that it was no profit to him as -commander; but they were always put on board by the owners, and that it -was none of his business to inquire about them; and, to prove that he -was not concerned in it, but was very much troubled at so base a thing, -and that he would not be instrumental to carry us away against our -wills, if the wind and the weather would permit, he would set us on -shore again, though, as it blowed then, the wind being at south-west -and a hard gale, and that they were already as far as the Orkneys, it -was impossible. - -But the captain was the same man. He told him that, let the wind blow -how it would, he ought not to carry us away against our consent; and as -to his pretences of his owners and the like, it was saying of nothing -to him, for it was he, the captain, that carried us away, and that, -whatever rogue trepanned us on board, now he knew it, he ought no more -to carry us away than murder us; and that he demanded to be set on -shore, or else he, the captain, was a thief and a murderer. - -The captain continued mild still; and then I put in with an argument -that had like to have brought us all back, if the weather had not -really hindered it; which, when I came to understand sea affairs -better, I found was indeed so, and that it had been impossible. I told -the captain that I was sorry that my brother was so warm, but that our -usage was villainous, which he could not deny. Then I took up the air -of what my habit did not agree with. I told him that we were not people -to be sold for slaves, that though we had the misfortune to be in a -circumstance that obliged us to conceal ourselves, having disguised -ourselves to get out of the army, as being not willing to go into -Flanders, yet that we were men of substance, and able to discharge -ourselves from the service when it came to that; and, to convince him -of it, I told him I would give him sufficient security to pay £20 -apiece for my brother and myself; and in as short time as we could send -from the place he should put into London, and receive a return. And, to -show that I was able to do it, I pulled out my bill for £94 from the -gentleman of the custom-house, and who, to my infinite satisfaction, he -knew as soon as he saw the bill. He was astonished at this, and, -lifting up his hands, “By what witchcraft,” says he, “were ye brought -hither!” - -“As to that,” says I, “we have told you the story, and we add nothing -to it; but we insist upon it that you will do this justice to us now.” -“Well,” says he, “I am very sorry for it, but I cannot answer putting -back the ship; neither, if I could,” says he, “is it practicable to be -done.” - -While this discourse lasted the two Scotchmen and the other Englishman -were silent; but as I seemed to acquiesce, the Scotchmen began to talk -to the same purpose, which I need not repeat, and had not mentioned but -for a merry passage that followed. After the Scotchmen had said all -they could, and the captain still told them they must submit,—“And will -you then carry us to Virginia?” “Yes,” says the captain. “And will we -be sold,” says the Scotchman, “when we come there?” “Yes,” says the -captain. “Why then, sir,” says the Scotchman, “the devil will have you -at the hinder end of the bargain.” “Say you so,” says 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, and you shall be -used as kindly, both here and there too, as I can.” The poor Scotchmen -could say little to it, nor I, nor any of us; for we saw there was no -remedy but to leave the devil and the captain to agree among -themselves, as the captain had said, as to the honesty of it. - -Thus, in short, we were all, I say, obliged to acquiesce but my -captain, who was so much the more obstinate when he found that I had a -fund to make such an offer upon; nor could all my persuasions prevail -with him. The captain of the ship and he had many pleasant dialogues -about this in the rest of the voyage, in which Jacque never treated him -with any language but that of kidnapper and villain, nor talked of -anything but of taking his revenge of him. But I omit that part, though -very diverting, as being no part of my own story. - -In short, the wind continued to blow hard, though very fair, till, as -the seamen said, we were past the islands on the north of Scotland, and -that we began to steer away westerly (which I came to understand -since). As there was no land any way for many hundred leagues, so we -had no remedy but patience, and to be easy as we could; only my surly -Captain Jacque continued the same man all the way. - -We had a very good voyage, no storms all the way, and a northerly wind -almost twenty days together; so that, in a word, we made the capes of -Virginia in two-and-thirty days from the day we steered west, as I have -said, which was in the latitude of 60 degrees 30 minutes, being to the -north of the isle of Great Britain; and this, they said, was a very -quick passage. - -Nothing material happened to me during the voyage; and indeed, when I -came there, I was obliged to act in so narrow a compass that nothing -very material could present itself. - -When we came ashore, which was in a great river which they call -Potomac, the captain asked us, but me more particularly, whether I had -anything to propose to him now. Jacque answered, “Yes, I have something -to propose to you, captain; that is, that I have promised you to cut -your throat, and depend upon it I will be as good as my word.” “Well, -well,” says the captain, “if I can’t help it, you shall;” so he turned -away to me. I understood him very well what he meant; but I was now out -of the reach of any relief; and as for my note, it was now but a bit of -paper of no value, for nobody could receive it but myself. I saw no -remedy, and so talked coldly to him of it as of a thing I was -indifferent about; and indeed I was grown indifferent, for I considered -all the way on the voyage, that as I was bred a vagabond, had been a -pickpocket and a soldier, and was run from my colours, and that I had -no settled abode in the world, nor any employ to get anything by, -except that wicked one I was bred to, which had the gallows at the -heels of it, I did not see but that this service might be as well to me -as other business. And this I was particularly satisfied with when they -told me that after I had served out the five years’ servitude I should -have the courtesy of the country (as they called it); that is, a -certain quantity of land to cultivate and plant for myself. So that now -I was like to be brought up to something by which I might live, without -that wretched thing called stealing, which my very soul abhorred, and -which I had given over, as I have said, ever since that wicked time -that I robbed the poor widow of Kentish Town. - -In this mind I was when I arrived at Virginia; and so, when the captain -inquired of me what I intended to do, and whether I had anything to -propose—that is to say, he meant whether I would give him my bill, -which he wanted to be fingering very much—I answered coldly, my bill -would be of no use to me now, for nobody would advance anything upon -it. Only this I would say to him, that if he would carry me and Captain -Jacque back to England, and to London again, I would pay him the £20 -off my bill for each of us. This he had no mind to; “for, as to your -brother,” says he, “I would not take him into my ship for twice £20, he -is such a hardened, desperate villain,” says he; “I should be obliged -to carry him in irons as I brought him hither.” - -Thus we parted with our captain or kidnapper, call him as you will. We -were then delivered to the merchants to whom we were consigned, who -again disposed of us as they thought fit; and in a few days we were -separated. - -As for my Captain Jacque, to make short of the story, that desperate -rogue had the luck to have a very easy, good master, whose easiness and -good humour he abused very much; and, in particular, took an -opportunity to run away with a boat which his master entrusted him and -another with to carry some provisions down the river to another -plantation which he had there. This boat and provisions they ran away -with, and sailed north to the bottom of the bay, as they call it, and -into a river called Susquehanna, and there quitting the boat, they -wandered through the woods, till they came to Pennsylvania, from whence -they made shift to get passage to New England, and from thence home; -where, falling in among his old companions and to the 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 disposed of, that is to say, sold, to a rich planter whose name was -Smith, and with me the other Englishman, who was my fellow-deserter, -that Jacque brought me to when we went off from Dunbar. - -We were now fellow-servants, and it was our lot to be carried up a -small river or creek which falls into Potomac river, about eight miles -from the great river. Here we were brought to the plantation, and put -in among about fifty servants, as well negroes as others; and being -delivered to the head man, or director, or manager of the plantation, -he took care to let us know that we must expect to work, and very hard -too; for it was for that purpose his master bought servants, and for no -other. I told him, very submissively, that since it was our misfortune -to come into such a miserable condition as we were in, we expected no -other; only we desired we might be showed our business, and be allowed -to learn it gradually, since he might be sure we had not been used to -labour; and I added that when he knew particularly by what methods we -were brought and betrayed into such a condition, he would perhaps see -cause at least to show us that favour, if not more. This I spoke with -such a moving tone as gave him a curiosity to inquire into the -particulars of our story, which I gave him at large, a little more to -our advantage, too, than ordinary. - -This story, as I hoped it would, did move him to a sort of tenderness; -but yet he told us that his master’s business must be done, and that he -expected we must work as above; that he could not dispense with that -upon any account whatever. Accordingly, to work we went; and indeed we -had three hard things attending us; namely, we worked hard, lodged -hard, and fared hard. The first I had been an utter stranger to; the -last I could shift well enough with. - -During this scene of life I had time to reflect on my past hours, and -upon what I had done in the world; and though I had no great capacity -of making a clear judgment, and very little reflections from -conscience, yet it made some impressions upon me; and particularly, -that I was brought into this miserable condition of a slave by some -strange directing power as a punishment for the wickedness of my -younger years; and this thought was increased upon the following -occasion. The master whose service I was now engaged in was a man of -substance and figure in the country, and had abundance of servants, as -well negroes as English; in all, I think, he had near two hundred; and -among so many, as some grew every year infirm and unable to work, -others went off upon their time being expired, and others died; and by -these and other accidents the number would diminish, if they were not -often recruited and filled, and this obliged him to buy more every -year. - -It happened while I was here that a ship arrived from London with -several servants, and among the rest was seventeen transported felons, -some burnt in the hand, others not; eight of whom my master bought for -the time specified in the warrant for their transportation -respectively, some for a longer, some a shorter, term of years. - -Our master was a great man in the country, and a justice of peace, -though he seldom came down to the plantation where I was. Yet, as the -new servants were brought on shore and delivered at our plantation, his -worship came thither, in a kind of state, to see and receive them. When -they were brought before him I was called, among other servants, as a -kind of guard, to take them into custody after he had seen them, and -carry them to the work. They were brought by a guard of seamen from the -ship, and the second mate of the ship came with them, and delivered -them to our master, with the warrant for their transportation, as -above. - -When his worship had read over the warrants, he called them over by -their names, one by one, and having let them know, by his reading the -warrants over again to each man respectively, that he knew for what -offences they were transported, he talked to every one separately very -gravely; let them know how much favour they had received in being saved -from the gallows, which the law had appointed for their crimes; that -they were not sentenced to be transported, but to be hanged, and that -transportation was granted them upon their own request and humble -petition. - -Then he laid before them that they ought to look upon the life they -were just going to enter upon as just beginning the world again; that -if they thought fit to be diligent and sober, they would, after the -time they were ordered to serve was expired, be encouraged by the -constitution of the country to settle and plant for themselves; and -that even he himself would be so kind to them, that if he lived to see -any of them serve their time faithfully out, it was his custom to -assist his servants in order to their settling in that country, -according as their behaviour might merit from him; and they would see -and know several planters round about them who now were in very good -circumstances, and who formerly were only his servants, in the same -condition with them, and came from the same place—that is to say, -Newgate; and some of them had the mark of it in their hands, but were -now very honest men and lived in very good repute. - -Among the rest of his new servants, he came to a young fellow not above -seventeen or eighteen years of age, and his warrant mentions that he -was, though a young man, yet an old offender; that he had been several -times condemned, but had been respited or pardoned, but still he -continued an incorrigible pickpocket; that the crime for which he was -now transported was for picking a merchant’s pocket-book, or -letter-case, out of his pocket, in which was bills of exchange for a -very great sum of money; that he had afterwards received the money upon -some of the bills, but that going to a goldsmith in Lombard Street with -another bill, and having demanded the money, he was stopped, notice -having been given of the loss of them; that he was condemned to die for -the felony, and being so well known for an old offender, had certainly -died, but the merchant, upon his earnest application, had obtained that -he should be transported, on condition that he restored all the rest of -his bills, which he had done accordingly. - -Our master talked a long time to this young fellow; mentioned, with -some surprise, that he so young should have followed such a wicked -trade so long as to obtain the name of an old offender at so young an -age; and that he should be styled incorrigible, which is to signify -that notwithstanding his being whipped two or three times, and several -times punished by imprisonment, and once burnt in the hand, yet nothing -would do him any good, but that he was still the same. He talked mighty -religiously to this boy, and told him God had not only spared him from -the gallows, but had now mercifully delivered him from the opportunity -of committing the same sin again, and put it into his power to live an -honest life, which perhaps he knew not how to do before; and though -some part of his life now might be laborious, yet he ought to look on -it to be no more than being put out apprentice to an honest trade, in -which, when he came out of his time, he might be able to set up for -himself and live honestly. - -Then he told him that while he was a servant he would have no -opportunity to be dishonest; so when he came to be for himself he would -have no temptation to it; and so, after a great many other kind things -said to him and the rest, they were dismissed. - -I was exceedingly moved at this discourse of our master’s, as anybody -would judge I must be, when it was directed to such a young rogue, born -a thief, and bred up a pickpocket, like myself; for I thought all my -master said was spoken to me, and sometimes it came into my head that -sure my master was some extraordinary man, and he knew all things that -ever I had done in my life. - -But I was surprised to the last degree when my master, dismissing all -the rest of us servants, pointed at me, and speaking to his head-clerk, -“Here,” says he, “bring that young fellow hither to me.” - -I had been near a year in the work, and I had plied it so well that the -clerk, or headman, either flattered me or did really believe that I -behaved very well. But I was terribly frighted to hear myself called -out aloud, just as they used to call for such as had done some -misdemeanour, and were to be lashed or otherwise corrected. - -I came in like a malefactor indeed, and thought I looked like one just -taken in the fact and carried before the justice; and indeed when I -came in, for I was carried into an inner room or parlour in the house -to him (his discourse to the rest was in a large hall, where he sat in -a seat like a lord judge upon the bench, or a petty king upon his -throne); when I came in, I say, he ordered his man to withdraw, and I -standing half naked and bare-headed, with my haugh, or hoe, in my hand -(the posture and figure I was in at my work), near the door, he bade me -lay down my hoe and come nearer. Then he began to look a little less -stern and terrible than I fancied him to look before, or, perhaps, both -his countenance then and before might be to my imagination differing -from what they really were; for we do not always judge those things by -the real temper of the person, but by the measure of our apprehensions. - -“Hark ye, young man, how old are you?” says my master; and so our -dialogue began. - -_Jacque_. Indeed, sir, I do not know. - -_Mast_. What is your name? - -_Jacque_. They call me Colonel[4] here, but my name is Jacque, an’t -please your worship. - -_Mast_. But prithee, what is thy name? - -_Jacque_. Jacque. - -_Mast_. What! is thy Christian name, then, Colonel, and thy surname -Jacque? - -_Jacque_. Truly, sir, to tell your honour the truth, I know little or -nothing of myself,[5] nor what my true name is; but thus I have been -called ever since I remember. Which is my Christian name, or which my -surname, or whether I was ever christened or not, I cannot tell. - -_Mast_. Well, however, that’s honestly answered. Pray, how came you -hither, and on what account are you made a servant here? - -_Jacque_. I wish your honour could have patience with me to hear the -whole story; it is the hardest and most unjust thing that ever came -before you. - -_Mast_. Say you so? Tell it me at large, then. I’ll hear it, I promise -that, if it be an hour long. - -This encouraged me, and I began at being a soldier, and being persuaded -to desert at Dunbar, and gave him all the particulars, as they are -related above, to the time of my coming on shore and the captain -talking to me about my bill after I arrived here. He held up his hands -several times as I went on, expressing his abhorrence of the usage I -had met with at Newcastle, and inquired the name of the master of the -ship; “for,” said he, “that captain, for all his smooth words, must be -a rogue.” So I told him his name, and the name of the ship, and he took -it down in his book, and then he went on. - -_Mast_. But pray answer me, honestly too, to another question: What was -it made you so much concerned at my talking to the boy there, the -pickpocket? - -_Jacque_. An’t please your honour, it moved me to hear you talk so -kindly to a poor slave. - -_Mast_. And was that all? Speak truly now. - -_Jacque_. No, indeed; but a secret wish came into my thoughts, that -you, that were so good to such a creature as that, could but one way or -other know my case, and that if you did, you would certainly pity me, -and do something for me. - -_Mast_. Well, but was there nothing in his case that hit your own, that -made you so affected with it; for I saw tears come from your eyes and -it was that made me call to speak to you? - -_Jacque_. Indeed, sir, I have been a wicked, idle boy, and was left -desolate in the world; but that boy is a thief, and condemned to be -hanged. I never was before a court of justice in my life. - -_Mast_. Well, I won’t examine you too far. If you were never before a -court of justice, and are not a criminal transported, I have nothing -further to inquire of you. You have been ill used, that’s certain; and -was it that that affected you? - -_Jacque_. Yes, indeed, please your honour. (We all called him his -honour, or his worship.) - -_Mast_. Well, now I do know your case, what can I do for you? You speak -of a bill of £94 of which you would have given the captain £40 for your -liberty; have you that bill in your keeping still? - -_Jacque_. Yes, sir; here it is. - -I pulled it out of the waistband of my drawers, where I always found -means to preserve it, wrapped up in a piece of paper, and pinned to the -waistband, and yet almost worn out, too, with often pinning and -removing. So I gave it to him to read, and he read it. - -_Mast_. And is this gentleman in being that gave you the bill? - -_Jacque_. Yes, sir; he was alive and in good health when I came from -London, which you may see by the date of the bill, for I came away the -next day. - -_Mast_. I do not wonder that the captain of the ship was willing to get -this bill of you when you came on shore here. - -_Jacque_. I would have given it into his possession if he would have -carried me and my brother back again to England, and have taken what he -asked for us out of it. - -_Mast_. Ay; but he knew better than that, too. He knew, if he had any -friends there, they would call him to an account for what he had done. -But I wonder he did not take it from you while you were at sea, either -by fraud or by force. - -_Jacque_. He did not attempt that indeed. - -_Mast_. Well, young man, I have a mind to try if I can do you any -service in this case. On my word, if the money can be paid, and you can -get it safe over, I might put you in a way how to be a better man than -your master, if you will be honest and diligent. - -_Jacque_. As I have behaved myself in your service, sir, you will, I -hope, judge of the rest. - -_Mast_. But perhaps you hanker after returning to England? - -_Jacque_. No, indeed, sir; if I can but get my bread honestly here, I -have no mind to go to England; for I know not how to get my bread -there. If I had, I had not ’listed for a soldier. - -_Mast_. Well, but I must ask you some questions about that part -hereafter; for ’tis indeed something strange that you should list for a -soldier when you had £94 in your pocket. - -_Jacque_. I shall give your worship as particular account of that as I -have of the other part of my life, if you please; but ’tis very long. - -_Mast_. Well, we will have that another time. But to the case in hand. -Are you willing I should send to anybody at London to talk with that -gentleman that gave you the bill; not to take the money of him, but to -ask him only whether he has so much money of yours in his hands, and -whether he will part with it when you shall give order, and send the -bill, or a duplicate of it; that is (says he) the copy? (And it was -well he did say so, for I did not understand the word duplicate at -all.) - -_Jacque_. Yes, sir; I will give you the bill itself, if you please. I -can trust it with you, though I could not with him. - -_Mast_. No, no, young man, I won’t take it from you. - -_Jacque_. I wish your worship would please to keep it for me, for if I -should lose it, then I am quite undone. - -_Mast_. I will keep it for you, Jacque, if you will; but then you shall -have a note under my hand, signifying that I have it, and will return -it you upon demand, which will be as safe to you as the bill. I won’t -take it else. - -So I gave my master the bill, and he gave me his note for it; and he -was a faithful steward for me, as you will hear in its place. After -this conference I was dismissed, and went to my work; but about two -hours after, the steward, or the overseer of the plantation, came -riding by, and coming up to me as I was at work, pulled a bottle out of -his pocket, and calling me to him, gave me a dram of rum. When, in good -manners, I had taken but a little sup, he held it out to me again, and -bade me take another, and spoke wondrous civilly to me, quite otherwise -than he used to do. - -This encouraged me and heartened me very much, but yet I had no -particular view of anything, or which way I should have any relief. - -A day or two after, when we were all going out to our work in the -morning, the overseer called me to him again, and gave me a dram and a -good piece of bread, and bade me come off from my work about one -o’clock, and come to him to the house, for he must speak with me. - -When I came to him, I came, to be sure, in the ordinary habit of a poor -half-naked slave. “Come hither, young man,” says he, “and give me your -hoe.” When I gave it him, “Well,” says he, “you are to work no more in -this plantation.” - -I looked surprised, and as if I was frighted. “What have I done, sir?” -said I; “and whither am I to be sent away?” - -“Nay, nay,” says he, and looked very pleasantly, “do not be frighted; -’tis for your good; ’tis not to hurt you. I am ordered to make an -overseer of you, and you shall be a slave no longer.” - -“Alas!” says I to him, “I an overseer! I am in no condition for it. I -have no clothes to put on, no linen, nothing to help myself.” - -“Well, well,” says he, “you may be better used than you are aware of. -Come hither with me.” So he led me into a vast, great warehouse, or, -rather, set of warehouses, one within another, and calling the -warehouse-keeper, “Here,” says he, “you must clothe this man, and give -him everything necessary, upon the foot of number five, and give the -bill to me. Our master has ordered me to allow it in the account of the -west plantation.” That was, it seems, the plantation where I was to go. - -Accordingly, the warehouse-keeper carried me into an inner warehouse, -where were several suits of clothes of the sort his orders mentioned, -which were plain but good sorts of clothes, ready made, being of a good -broadcloth, about 11s. a yard in England; and with this he gave me -three good shirts, two pair of shoes, stockings, and gloves, a hat, six -neckcloths, and, in short, everything I could want; and when he had -looked everything out, and fitted them, he lets me into a little room -by itself. “Here,” says he; “go in there a slave, and come out a -gentleman;” and with that carried everything into the room, and, -shutting the door, bid me put them on, which I did most willingly; and -now you may believe that I began to hope for something better than -ordinary. - -In a little while after this came the overseer, and gave me joy of my -new clothes, and told me I must go with him. So I was carried to -another plantation, larger than that where I worked before, and where -there were two overseers or clerks; one within doors, and one without. -This last was removed to another plantation, and I was placed there in -his room (that is to say, as the clerk without doors), and my business -was to look after the servants and negroes, and take care that they did -their business, provide their food, and, in short, both govern and -direct them. - -I was elevated to the highest degree in my thoughts at this -advancement, and it is impossible for me to express the joy of my mind -upon this occasion; but there came a difficulty upon me, that shocked -me so violently and went so against my very nature that I really had -almost forfeited my place about it, and, in all appearance, the favour -of our master, who had been so generous to me; and this was, that when -I entered upon my office, I had a horse given me and a long horsewhip, -like what we call in England a hunting-whip. The horse was to ride up -and down all over the plantation, to see the servants and negroes did -their work; and, the plantation being so large, it could not be done on -foot, at least so often and so effectively as was required; and the -horsewhip was given me to correct and lash the slaves and servants when -they proved negligent or quarrelsome, or, in short, were guilty of any -offence. This part turned the very blood within my veins, and I could -not think of it with any temper, that I, who was but yesterday a -servant or slave like them, and under the authority of the same lash, -should lift up my hand to the cruel work which was my terror but the -day before. This, I say, I could not do; insomuch that the negroes -perceived it, and I had soon so much contempt upon my authority that we -were all in disorder. - -The ingratitude of their return for the compassion I showed them -provoked me, I confess, and a little hardened my heart; and I began -with the negroes, two of whom I was obliged to correct; and I thought I -did it most cruelly; but after I had lashed them till every blow I -struck them hurt myself and I was ready to faint at the work, the -rogues laughed at me, and one of them had the impudence to say, behind -my back, that, if he had the whipping of me, he would show me better -how to whip a negro. - -Well, however, I had no power to do it in such a barbarous manner as I -found it was necessary to have it done; and the defect began to be a -detriment to our master’s business. And now I began indeed to see that -the cruelty so much talked of, used in Virginia and Barbados, and other -colonies, in whipping the negro slaves, was not so much owing to the -tyranny and passion and cruelty of the English, as had been reported, -the English not being accounted to be of a cruel disposition, and -really are not so; but that it is owing to the brutality and obstinate -temper of the negroes, who cannot be managed by kindness and courtesy, -but must be ruled with a rod of iron, beaten with scorpions, as the -Scripture calls it, and must be used as they do use them, or they would -rise and murder all their masters; which, their numbers considered, -would not be hard for them to do, if they had arms and ammunition -suitable to the rage and cruelty of their nature. - -But I began to see at the same time that this brutal temper of the -negroes was not rightly managed; that they did not take the best course -with them to make them sensible, either of mercy or punishment; and it -was evident to me that even the worst of those tempers might be brought -to a compliance without the lash, or at least without so much of it as -they generally inflicted. - -Our master was really a man of humanity himself, and was sometimes so -full of tenderness that he would forbid the severities of his overseers -and stewards; but he saw the necessity of it, and was obliged at last -to leave it to the discretion of his upper servants. Yet he would often -bid them be merciful, and bid them consider the difference of the -constitution of the bodies of the negroes, some being less able to bear -the tortures of their punishment than others, and some of them less -obstinate, too, than others. - -However, somebody was so officious as to inform him against me upon -this occasion, and let him know that I neglected his affairs, and that -the servants were under no government; by which means his plantation -was not duly managed, and that all things were in disorder. - -This was a heavy charge for a young overseer, and his honour came like -a judge, with all his attendants, to look into things and hear the -cause. However, he was so just to me as that, before he censured me, he -resolved to hear me fully, and that not only publicly, but in private -too. And the last part of this was my particular good fortune; for, as -he had formerly allowed me to speak to him with freedom, so I had the -like freedom now, and had full liberty to explain and defend myself. - -I knew nothing of the complaint against me till I had it from his own -mouth, nor anything of his coming till I saw him in the very -plantation, viewing his work, and viewing the several pieces of ground -that were ordered to be new planted; and after he had rode all round, -and seen things in the condition which they were to be seen in, how -every thing was in its due order, and the servants and negroes were all -at work, and everything appearing to his mind, he went into the house. - -As I saw him come up the walks I ran towards him and made my homage, -and gave him my humble thanks for the goodness he had showed me in -taking me from the miserable condition I was in before, and employing -and entrusting me in his business; and he looked pleasant enough, -though he did not say much at first; and I attended him through the -whole plantation, gave him an account of everything as we went along, -answered all his objections and inquiries everywhere in such a manner -as it seems he did not expect; and, as he acknowledged afterwards, -everything was very much to his satisfaction. - -There was an overseer, as I observed, belonging to the same plantation, -who was, though not over me, yet in a work superior to mine; for his -business was to see the tobacco packed up and deliver it either on -board the sloops or otherwise, as our master ordered, and to receive -English goods from the grand warehouse, which was at the other -plantation, because that was nearest the water-side; and, in short, to -keep the accounts. - -This overseer, an honest and upright man, made no complaint to him of -his business being neglected, as above, or of anything like it, though -he inquired of him about it, and that very strictly, too. - -I should have said, that as he rid over the plantation, he came in his -round to the place where the servants were usually corrected when they -had done any fault; and there stood two negroes, with their hands tied -behind them, as it were under sentence; and when he came near them they -fell on their knees and made pitiful signs to him for mercy. “Alas! -alas!” says he, turning to me, “why did you bring me this way? I do not -love such sights. What must I do now? I must pardon them; prithee, what -have they done?” I told him the particular offences which they were -brought to the place for. One had stole a bottle of rum, and had made -himself drunk with it, and, when he was drunk, had done a great many -mad things, and had attempted to knock one of the white servants’ -brains out with a handspike, but that the white man had avoided the -blow, and, striking up the negro’s heels, had seized him and brought -him prisoner thither, where he had lain all night; and that I had told -him he was to be whipped that day, and the next three days, twice every -day. - -“And could you be so cruel?” says his honour. “Why, you would kill the -poor wretch; and so, beside the blood which you would have to answer -for, you would lose me a lusty man negro, which cost me at least £30 or -£40, and bring a reproach upon my whole plantation. Nay, and more than -that, some of them in revenge would murder me, if ever it was in their -power.” - -“Sir,” says I, “if those fellows are not kept under by violence, I -believe you are satisfied nothing is to be done with them; and it is -reported in your works that I have been rather their jest than their -terror, for want of using them as they deserve; and I was resolved, how -much soever it is against my own disposition, that your service should -not suffer for my unseasonable forbearance; and therefore, if I had -scourged him to death——” “Hold,” says he; “no, no, by no means any such -severity in my bounds. Remember, young man; you were once a servant. -Deal as you would acknowledge it would be just to deal with you in his -case, and mingle always some mercy. I desire it, and let the -consequence of being too gentle be placed to my account.” - -This was as much as I could desire, and the more because what passed -was in public, and several, both negroes and white servants, as well as -the particular persons who had accused me, heard it all, though I did -not know it. “A cruel dog of an overseer,” says one of the white -servants behind; “he would have whipped poor bullet-head”—so they -called the negro that was to be punished—“to death if his honour had -not happened to come to-day.” - -However, I urged the notorious crime this fellow was guilty of, and the -danger there was in such forbearance, from the refractory and -incorrigible temper of the negroes, and pressed a little the necessity -of making examples. But he said, “Well, well, do it the next time, but -not now;” so I said no more. - -The other fellow’s crime was trifling compared with this; and the -master went forward, talking of it to me, and I following him, till we -came to the house; when, after he had been sat down a while, he called -me to him, and, not suffering my accusers to come near till he had -heard my defence, he began with me thus:— - -_Mast_. Hark ye, young man, I must have some discourse with you. Your -conduct is complained of since I set you over this plantation. I -thought your sense of the obligation I had laid on you would have -secured your diligence and faithfulness to me. - -_Jacque_. I am very sorry any complaint should be made of me, because -the obligation I am under to your honour (and which I freely confess) -does bind me to your interest in the strongest manner imaginable; and, -however I may have mistaken my business, I am sure I have not willingly -neglected it. - -_Mast_. Well, I shall not condemn you without hearing you, and -therefore I called you in now to tell you of it. - -_Jacque_. I humbly thank your honour. I have but one petition more, and -that is, that I may know my accusation; and, if you please, my -accusers. - -_Mast_. The first you shall, and that is the reason of my talking to -you in private; and if there is any need of a further hearing, you -shall know your accusers too. What you are charged with is just -contrary to what appeared to me just now, and therefore you and I must -come to a new understanding about it, for I thought I was too cunning -for you, and now I think you have been too cunning for me. - -_Jacque_. I hope your honour will not be offended that I do not fully -understand you. - -_Mast_. I believe you do not. Come, tell me honestly, did you really -intend to whip the poor negro twice a day for four days together; that -is to say, to whip him to death, for that would have been the English -of it, and the end of it? - -_Jacque_. If I may be permitted to guess, sir, I believe I know the -charge that is brought against me, and that your honour has been told -that I have been too gentle with the negroes, as well as other -servants; and that when they deserved to be used with the accustomed -severity of the country, I have not given them half enough; and that by -this means they are careless of your business, and that your plantation -is not well looked after, and the like. - -_Mast_. Well, you guess right. Go on. - -_Jacque_. The first part of the charge I confess, but the last I deny, -and appeal to your honour’s strictest examination into every part of -it. - -_Mast_. If the last part could be true, I would be glad the first were; -for it would be an infinite satisfaction to me that, my business not -being neglected, nor our safety endangered, those poor wretches could -be used with more humanity; for cruelty is the aversion of my nature, -and it is the only uncomfortable thing that attends me in all my -prosperity. - -_Jacque_. I freely acknowledge, sir, that at first it was impossible -for me to bring myself to that terrible work. How could I, that was but -just come out of the terror of it myself, and had but the day before -been a poor naked, miserable servant myself, and might be to-morrow -reduced to the same condition again; how could I use this terrible -weapon[6] on the naked flesh of my fellow-servants, as well as -fellow-creatures? At least, sir, when my duty made it absolutely -necessary, I could not do it without the utmost horror. I beseech you, -pardon me if I have such a tenderness in my nature, that though I might -be fit to be your servant, I am incapable of being an executioner, -having been an offender myself. - -_Mast_. Well, but how, then, can my business be done? And how will this -terrible obstinacy of the negroes, who, they tell me, can be no -otherwise governed, be kept from neglect of their work, or even -insolence and rebellion? - -_Jacque_. This brings me, sir, to the latter part of my defence; and -here I hope your honour will be pleased to call my accusers, or that -you will give yourself the trouble of taking the exactest view of your -plantation, and see, or let them show you, if anything is neglected, if -your business has suffered in anything, or if your negroes or other -servants are under less government than they were before; and if, on -the contrary, I have found out that happy secret, to have good order -kept, the business of the plantation done, and that with diligence and -despatch, and that the negroes are kept in awe, the natural temper of -them subjected, and the safety and peace of your family secured, as -well by gentle means as by rough, by moderate correction as by torture -and barbarity, by a due awe of just discipline as by the horror of -unsufferable torments, I hope your honour will not lay that sin to my -charge. - -_Mast_. No, indeed; you would be the most acceptable manager that ever -I employed. But how, then, does this consist with the cruel sentence -you had passed on the poor fellow that is in your condemned hole -yonder, who was to be whipped eight times in four days? - -_Jacque_. Very well, sir. First, sir, he remains under the terrible -apprehensions of a punishment so severe as no negro ever had before. -This fellow, with your leave, I intended to release to-morrow without -any whipping at all, after talking to him in my way about his offence, -and raising in his mind a sense of the value of pardon. And if this -makes him a better servant than the severest whipping will do, then, I -presume, you would allow I have gained a point. - -_Mast_. Ay; but what if it should not be so? For these fellows have no -sense of gratitude. - -_Jacque_. That is, sir, because they are never pardoned. If they -offend, they never know what mercy is; and what, then, have they to be -grateful for? - -_Mast_. Thou art in the right indeed. Where there is no mercy showed, -there is no obligation laid upon them. - -_Jacque_. Besides, sir, if they have at any time been let go, which is -very seldom, they are not told what the case is. They take no pains -with them to imprint principles of gratitude on their minds, to tell -them what kindness is shown them, and what they are indebted for it, -and what they might gain in the end by it. - -_Mast_. But do you think such usage would do? Would it make any -impression? You persuade yourself it would, but you see ’tis against -the received notion of the whole country. - -_Jacque_. There are, it may be, public and national mistakes and errors -in conduct, and this is one. - -_Mast_. Have you tried it? You cannot say it is a mistake till you have -tried and proved it to be so. - -_Jacque_. Your whole plantation is a proof of it. This very fellow had -never acted as he did if he had not gotten rum in his head, and been -out of the government of himself; so that, indeed, all the offence I -ought to have punished him for had been that of stealing a bottle of -rum and drinking it all up; in which case, like Noah, he did not know -the strength of it, and when he had it in his head he was a madman, he -was as one raging and distracted; so that, for all the rest, he -deserved pity rather than punishment. - -_Mast_. Thou art right, certainly right, and thou wilt be a rare fellow -if thou canst bring these notions into practice. I wish you had tried -it upon any one particular negro, that I might see an example. I would -give £500 if it could be brought to bear. - -_Jacque_. I desire nothing, sir, but your favour, and the advantage of -obliging you. I will show you an example of it among your own negroes, -and all the plantation will acknowledge it. - -_Mast_. You make my very heart glad within me, Jacque. If you can bring -this to pass, I here give you my word I’ll not only give you your own -freedom, but make a man of you for this world as long as you live. - -Upon this I bowed to him very respectfully, and told him the following -story:—‘There is a negro, sir, in your plantation who has been your -servant several years before I came. He did a fault that was of no -great consequence in itself, but perhaps would have been worse if they -had indeed gone further; and I had him brought into the usual place, -and tied him by the thumbs for correction, and he was told that he -should be whipped and pickled in a dreadful manner. After I had made -proper impressions on his mind of the terror of his punishment, and -found that he was sufficiently humbled by it, I went into the house, -and caused him to be brought out, just as they do when they go to -correct the negroes on such occasions. When he was stripped and tied up -he had two lashes given him, that was indeed very cruel ones, and I -called to them to hold. ‘Hold!’ said I to the two men that had just -began to lay on upon the poor fellow: ‘Hold!’ said I, ‘let me talk with -him.’ - -“So he was taken down. Then I began and represented to him how kind -you, that were his great master,[7] had been to him; that you had never -done him any harm; that you had used him gently, and he had never been -brought to this punishment in so many years, though he had done some -faults before; that this was a notorious offence, for he had stolen -some rum, and made himself and two other negroes drunk-mad;[8] and had -abused two women negroes, who had husbands in our master’s service, but -in another plantation; and played several pranks, and for this I had -appointed him this punishment. - -“He shook his head, and made signs that he was _muchee sorree_, as he -called it. ‘And what will you say or do,’ said I, ‘if I should prevail -with the great master to pardon you? I have a mind to go and see if I -can beg for you.’ He told me he would lie down, let me kill him. ‘Me -will,’ says he, ‘run, go, fetch, bring for you as long as me live.’ -This was the opportunity I had a mind to have, to try whether, as -negroes have all the other faculties of reasonable creatures, they had -not also some sense of kindness, some principles of natural generosity, -which, in short, is the foundation of gratitude; for gratitude is the -product of generous principles.” - -“You please me with the beginning of this story,” says he; “I hope you -have carried it on.” - -“Yes, sir,” says I; “it has been carried on further perhaps than you -imagine, or will think has been possible in such a case. - -“But I was not so arrogant as to assume the merit to myself. ‘No, no,’ -said I, ‘I do not ask you to go or run for me; you must do all that for -our great master, for it will be from him entirely that you will be -pardoned at all, for your offence is against him; and what will you -say? Will you be grateful to him, and run, go, fetch, bring, for him, -as long as you live, as you have said you would for me?’ - -“’Yes, indeed,’ says he, ‘and muchee do, muchee do, for you too’ (he -would not leave me out); ‘you ask him for me.’ - -“Well, I put off all his promised gratitude to me from myself, as was -my duty, and placed it to your account; told him I knew you was muchee -good, muchee pitiful, and I would persuade you if I could; and so told -him I would go to you, and he should be whipped no more till I came -again; but, ‘Hark ye, Mouchat,’ says I (that was the negro’s name), -’they tell me, when I came hither, that there is no showing kindness to -any of you negroes; that when we spare you from whipping you laugh at -us, and are the worse.’ - -“He looked very serious at me, and said, ‘Oh, that not so; the masters -say so, but no be so, no be so, indeede, indeede,’ and so we parleyed.” - -_Jacque_. Why do they say so, then? To be sure they have tried you all. - -_Negro_. No, no, they no try; they say so, but no try. - -_Jacque_. I hear them all say so. - -_Negro_. Me tell you the true; they have no mercie; they beat us cruel, -all cruel; they never have show mercie. How can they tell we be no -better? - -_Jacque_. What! do they never spare? - -_Negro_. Master, me speakee the true; they never give mercie; they -always whippee, lashee, knockee down, all cruel. Negro be muchee better -man, do muchee better work, but they tell us no mercie. - -_Jacque_. But what, do they never show any mercy? - -_Negro_. No, never; no, never; all whippee; all whippee, cruel, worse -than they whippee de horse, whippee de dog. - -_Jacque_. But would they be better if they did? - -_Negro_. Yes, yes; negro be muchee better if they be mercie. When they -be whippee, whippee, negro muchee cry, muchee hate; would kill if they -had de gun. But when they makee de mercie, then negro tell de great -tankee, and love to worke, and do muchee worke; and because he good -master to them. - -_Jacque_. They say no; you would laugh at them and mock when they show -mercy. - -_Negro_. How they say when they show mercie? They never show mercie; me -never see them show one mercie since me live. - -“Now, sir,” said I, “if this be so, really they go, I dare say, -contrary to your inclination, for I see you are but too full of pity -for the miserable. I saw it in my own case; and upon a presumption that -you had rather have your work done from a principle of love than fear, -without making your servants bleed for every trifle, if it were -possible; I say, upon this presumption I dealt with this Mouchat, as -you shall hear.” - -_Mast_. I have never met with anything of this kind since I have been a -planter, which is now about forty years. I am delighted with the story. -Go on; I expect a pleasant conclusion. - -_Jacque_. The conclusion, sir, will be, I believe, as much to your -satisfaction as the beginning; for it every way answered my -expectation, and will yours also, and show you how you might be -faithfully served if you pleased, for ’tis certain you are not so -served now. - -_Mast_. No, indeed; they serve me but just as they do the devil, for -fear I should hurt them. But ’tis contrary to an ingenuous spirit to -delight in such service. I abhor it, if I could but know how to get any -other. - -_Jacque_. It is easy, sir, to show you that you may be served upon -better principles, and consequently be better served, and more to your -satisfaction; and I dare undertake to convince you of it. - -_Mast_. Well, go on with the story. - -_Jacque_. After I had talked thus to him I said, “Well, Mouchat, I -shall see how you will be afterwards, if I can get our great master to -be merciful to you at this time.” - -_Negro_. Yes, you shall see; you muchee see, muchee see. - -“Upon this I called for my horse and went from him, and made as if I -rode away to you, who they told me was in the next plantation; and -having stayed four or five hours, I came back and talked to him again, -told him that I had waited on you, and that you had heard of his -offence, was highly provoked, and had resolved to cause him to be -severely punished for an example to all the negroes in the plantation; -but that I had told you how penitent he was, and how good he would be -if you would pardon him; and had at last prevailed on you. That you had -told me what all people said of the negroes; how, that to show them -mercy was to make them think you were never in earnest with them, and -that you did but trifle and play with them. However, that I had told -you what he had said of himself, and that it was not true of the -negroes, and that the white men said it, but that they could not know -because they did never show any mercy, and therefore had never tried; -that I had persuaded you to show mercy, to try whether kindness would -prevail as much as cruelty. ‘And now, Mouchat,’ said I, ‘you will be -let go. Pray let our great master see that I have said true.’ So I -ordered him to be untied, gave him a dram of rum out of my -pocket-bottle, and ordered them to give him some victuals. - -“When the fellow was let loose, he came to me and kneeled down to me, -and took hold of my legs and of my feet, and laid his head upon the -ground, and sobbed and cried like a child that had been corrected, but -could not speak for his life; and thus he continued a long time. I -would have taken him up, but he would not rise; but I cried as fast as -he, for I could not bear to see a poor wretch lie on the ground to me, -that was but a servant the other day like himself. At last, but not -till a quarter of an hour, I made him get up, and then he spoke. ‘Me -muchee know good great master, muchee good you master. No negro -unthankful; me die for them, do me so muchee kind.’ - -“I dismissed him then, and bid him go to his wife (for he was married), -and not work that afternoon; but as he was going away I called him -again, and talked thus to him. - -“’Now, Mouchat,’ says I, ‘you see the white men can show mercy. Now you -must tell all the negroes what has been reported of them; that they -regard nothing but the whip; that if they are used gently they are the -worse, not the better; and that this is the reason why the white men -show them no mercy; and convince them that they would be much better -treated and used kindlier if they would show themselves as grateful for -kind usage as humble after torment; and see if you can work on them.’ - -“’Me go, me go,’ says he; ‘me muchee talk to them. They be muchee glad -as me be, and do great work to be used kind by de great master.’” - -_Mast_. Well, but now what testimony have you of this gratitude you -speak of? Have you seen any alteration among them? - -_Jacque_. I come next to that part, sir. About a month after this I -caused a report to be spread abroad in the plantation that I had -offended you, the great master, and that I was turned out of the -plantation, and was to be hanged. Your honour knows that some time ago -you sent me upon your particular business into Potuxent River, where I -was absent twelve days; then I took the opportunity to have this report -spread about among the negroes, to see how it would work. - -_Mast_. What! to see how Mouchat would take it? - -_Jacque_. Yes, sir; and it made a discovery indeed. The poor fellow did -not believe it presently, but finding I was still absent, he went to -the head-clerk, and standing at his door, said nothing, but looked like -a fool of ten years old. After some time the upper overseer came out, -and seeing him stand there, at first said nothing, supposing he had -been sent of some errand; but observing him to stand stock-still, and -that he was in the same posture and place during the time that he had -passed and repassed two or three times, he stops short the last time of -his coming by. “What do you want,” says he to him, “that you stand idle -here so long?” - -“’Me speakee; me tell something,’ says he. - -“Then the overseer thought some discovery was at hand, and began to -listen to him. ‘What would you tell me?’ says he. - -“’Me tell! Pray,’ says he, ‘where be de other master?’ - -“He meant he would ask where he was. ‘What other master do you mean?’ -says the clerk. ‘What! do you want to speak with the great master? He -can’t be spoke with by you. Pray what is your business? Cannot you tell -it to me?’ - -“’No, no; me no speakee the great master—the other master,’ says -Mouchat.” - -“’What! the colonel?’ says the clerk. - -“’Yes, yes; the colonel,’ says he. - -“’Why, don’t you know that he is to be hanged to-morrow,’ says the -clerk, ‘for making the great master angry?’[9] - -“’Yes, yes,’ says Mouchat; ‘me know, me know; but me want speak; me -tell something.’ - -“’Well, what would you say?’ says the clerk. - -“’Oh! me no let him makee de great master angry.’ With that he kneeled -down to the clerk. - -“’What ails you?’ says the clerk. ‘I tell you he must be hanged.’ - -“’No, no,’ says he; ‘no hang de master. Me kneel for him to great -master.’ - -“’You kneel for him!’ says the clerk.[10] ’What! do you think the great -master will mind you? He has made the great master angry, and must be -hanged, I tell you. What signifies your begging?’ - -“_Negro_. Oh! me pray, me pray the great master for him. - -“_Clerk_. Why, what ails you that you would pray for him? - -“_Negro_. Oh! he beggee the great master for me; now me beggee for him. -The great master muchee good, muchee good; he pardon me when the other -master beggee me; now he pardon him when me beggee for him again. - -“_Clerk_. No, no; your begging won’t do. Will you be hanged for him? If -you do that, something may be. - -“_Negro_. Yes, yes; me be hang for de poor master that beggee for me. -Mouchat shall hang; the great master shall hangee me, whippee me; -anything to save the poor master that beggee me; yes, yes, indeed. - -“_Clerk_. Are you in earnest, Mouchat? - -“_Negro_. Yes, indeed; me tellee de true. The great master shall know -me tellee de true, for he shall see the white man hangee me, Mouchat. -Poor negro Mouchat will be hangee, be whippee, anything for the poor -master that beggee for me. - -“With this the poor fellow cried most pitifully, and there was no room -to question his being in earnest; when on a sudden I appeared, for I -was fetched to see all this transaction. I was not in the house at -first, but was just come home from the business you sent me of, and -heard it all; and indeed neither the clerk or I could bear it any -longer, so he came out to me. ‘Go to him,’ says he; ‘you have made an -example that will never be forgot, that a negro can be grateful. Go to -him,’ adds he, ‘for I can talk to him no longer.’ So I appeared, and -spoke to him presently, and let him see that I was at liberty; but to -hear how the poor fellow behaved your honour cannot but be pleased.” - -_Mast_. Prithee go on. I am pleased with it all; ’tis all a new scene -of negro life to me, and very moving. - -_Jacque_. For a good while he stood as if he had been thunderstruck and -stupid; but, looking steadily at me, though not speaking a word, at -last he mutters to himself, with a kind of laugh, “Ay, ay,” says he, -“Mouchat see, Mouchat no see; me wakee, me no wakee; no hangee, no -hangee; he live truly, very live;” and then on a sudden he runs to me, -snatches me away as if I had been a boy of ten years old, and takes me -up upon his back and runs away with me, till I was fain to cry out to -him to stop. Then he sets me down, and looks at me again, then falls -a-dancing about me as if he had been bewitched, just as you have seen -them do about their wives and children when they are merry. - -“Well, then, he began to talk with me, and told me what they had said -to him, how I was to be hanged. ‘Well,’ says I, ‘Mouchat, and would you -have been satisfied to be hanged to save me?’ ‘Yes, yes,’ says he; ’be -truly hangee, to beggee you.’ - -“’But why do you love me so well, Mouchat?’ said I. - -“’Did you no beggee me,’ he says, ‘at the great master? You savee me, -make great master muchee good, muchee kind, no whippee me; me no -forget; me be whipped, be hanged, that you no be hanged; me die, that -you no die; me no let any bad be with you all while that me live.’ - -“Now, sir, your honour may judge whether kindness, well managed, would -not oblige these people as well as cruelty, and whether there are -principles of gratitude in them or no.” - -_Mast_. But what, then, can be the reason that we never believed it to -be so before? - -_Jacque_. Truly, sir, I fear that Mouchat gave the true reason. - -_Mast_. What was that, pray? That we were too cruel? - -_Jacque_. That they never had any mercy showed them; that we never -tried them whether they would be grateful or no; that if they did a -fault they were never spared, but punished with the utmost cruelty; so -that they had no passion, no affection, to act upon but that of fear, -which necessarily brought hatred with it; but that if they were used -with compassion they would serve with affection as well as other -servants. Nature is the same, and reason governs in just proportions in -all creatures; but having never been let taste what mercy is, they know -not how to act from a principle of love. - -_Mast_. I am convinced it is so. But now, pray tell me, how did you put -this in practice with the poor negroes now in bonds yonder, when you -passed such a cruel sentence upon them that they should be whipped -twice a day, for four days together? Was that showing mercy? - -_Jacque_. My method was just the same; and if you please to inquire of -Mr.——, your other servant, you will be satisfied that it was so; for we -agreed upon the same measures as I took with Mouchat; namely, first to -put them into the utmost horror and apprehensions of the cruellest -punishment that they ever heard of, and thereby enhance the value of -their pardon, which was to come as from yourself, but not without our -great intercession. Then I was to argue with them, and work upon their -reason, to make the mercy that was showed them sink deep into their -minds and give lasting impressions; explain the meaning of gratitude to -them, and the nature of an obligation, and the like, as I had done with -Mouchat. - -_Mast_. I am answered. Your method is certainly right, and I desire you -may go on with it; for I desire nothing on this side heaven more than -to have all my negroes serve me from principles of gratitude for my -kindness to them. I abhor to be feared like a lion, like a tyrant. It -is a violence upon nature every way, and is the most disagreeable thing -in the world to a generous mind. - -_Jacque_. But, sir, I am doubtful that you may not believe that I -intended to act thus with those poor fellows. I beseech you to send for -Mr.——, that he may tell you what we had agreed on before I speak with -him. - -_Mast_. What reason have I to doubt that? - -_Jacque_. I hope you have not; but I should be very sorry you should -think me capable of executing such a sentence as you have heard me own -I had passed on them, and there can be no way effectually to clear it -up but this. - -_Mast_. Well, seeing you put so much weight upon it, he shall be called -for. - -[He was called, and being ordered by the master to tell the measures -that were concerted between them for the punishment or management of -those negroes, he gave it just as Jacque had done before.] - -_Jacque_. I hope, sir, you are now not only satisfied of the truth of -the account I gave relating to the method we had agreed on, but of its -being so proper and so likely to answer your end. - -_Mast_. I am fully satisfied, and shall be glad to see that it answers -the end; for, as I have said, nothing can be more agreeable to me. -Nothing has so much robbed me of the comfort of all my fortunes as the -cruelty used, in my name, on the bodies of those poor slaves. - -_Jacque_. It is certainly wrong, sir; it is not only wrong as it is -barbarous and cruel; but it is wrong, too, as it is the worst way of -managing and of having your business done. - -_Mast_. It is my aversion; it fills my very soul with horror. I believe -if I should come by while they were using those cruelties on the poor -creatures, I should either sink down at the sight of it or fly into a -rage and kill the fellow that did it; though it is done, too, by my own -authority. - -_Jacque_. But, sir, I dare say I shall convince you also that it is -wrong in respect of interest, and that your business shall be better -discharged and your plantations better ordered, and more work done by -the negroes who shall be engaged by mercy and lenity than by those who -are driven and dragged by the whips and the chains of a merciless -tormentor. - -_Mast_. I think the nature of the thing speaks itself. Doubtless it -should be so, and I have often thought it would be so, and a thousand -times wished it might be so; but all my English people pretend -otherwise, and that it is impossible to bring the negroes to any sense -of kindness, and consequently not to any obedience of love. - -_Jacque_. It may be true, sir, that there may be found here and there a -negro of a senseless, stupid, sordid disposition, perfectly -untractable, undocible, and incapable of due impressions; especially -incapable of the generosity of principle which I am speaking of. You -know very well, sir, there are such among Christians as well as among -the negroes; whence else came the English proverb, That if you save a -thief from the gallows, he shall be the first to cut your throat. But, -sir, if such a refractory, undocible fellow comes in our way, he must -be dealt with, first by the smooth ways to try him, then by the violent -way to break his temper, as they break a horse; and if nothing will do, -such a wretch should be sold off, and others bought in his room; for -the peace of the plantation should not be broken for one -devilish-tempered fellow. And if this was done I doubt not you should -have all your plantations carried on and your work done, and not a -negro or a servant upon it but what would not only work for you, but -even die for you, if there was an occasion for it, as you see this poor -Mouchat would have done for me. - -_Mast_. Well, go on with your measures, and may you succeed. I’ll -promise you I will fully make you amends for it. I long to have these -cruelties out of use, in my plantation especially. As for others, let -them do as they will. - -Our master being gone, I went to the prisoners, and first I suffered -them to be told that the great master had been there, and that he had -been inclined to pardon them, till he knew what their crime was; but -then he said it was so great a fault that it must be punished. Besides, -the man that talked to them told them that the great master said that -he knew if he had pardoned them they would be but the worse, for that -the negroes were never thankful for being spared, and that there were -no other ways to make them obedient but severity. - -One of the poor fellows, more sensible than the other, answered, if any -negro be badder for being kindly used, they should be whipped till they -were muchee better; but that he never knew that, for that he never knew -the negro be kindly use. - -This was the same thing as the other had said, and indeed was but too -true, for the overseers really knew no such thing as mercy; and that -notion of the negroes being no other way to be governed but by cruelty -had been the occasion that no other method was ever tried among them. - -Again, if a slack hand had at any time been held upon them, it had not -been done with discretion, or as a point of mercy, and managed with the -assistance of argument to convince the negroes of the nature and reason -of it, and to show them what they ought to do in return for it; but it -was perhaps the effect of negligence, ill conduct, and want of -application to the business of the plantation; and then it was no -wonder that the negroes took the advantage of it. - -Well, I carried on the affair with these two negroes just as I did with -Mouchat, so I need not repeat the particulars; and they were delivered -with infinite acknowledgments and thanks, even to all the extravagances -of joy usual in those people on such occasions. And such was the -gratitude of those two pardoned fellows that they were the most -faithful and most diligent servants ever after that belonged to the -whole plantation, Mouchat excepted. - -In this manner I carried on the plantation fully to his satisfaction; -and before a year more was expired there was scarce any such thing as -correction known in the plantation, except upon a few boys, who were -incapable of the impressions that good usage would have made, even upon -them too, till they had lived to know the difference. - -It was some time after this conference that our great master, as we -called him, sent for me again to his dwelling-house, and told me he had -had an answer from England from his friend, to whom he had written -about my bill. I was a little afraid that he was going to ask me leave -to send it to London; but he did not say anything like that, but told -me that his friend had been with the gentleman, and that he owned the -bill, and that he had all the money in his hand that the bill had -mentioned; but that he had promised the young man that had given him -the money (meaning me) not to pay the money to anybody but himself, -though they should bring the bill; the reason of which was, that I did -not know who might get the bill away from me. - -“But now, Colonel Jacque,” says he, “as you wrote him an account where -you was, and by what wicked arts you were trepanned, and that it was -impossible for you to have your liberty till you could get the money, -my friend at London has written to me, that, upon making out a due copy -of the bill here, attested by a notary and sent to him, and your -obligation likewise attested, whereby you oblige yourself to deliver -the original to his order after the money is paid, he will pay the -money.” - -I told him I was willing to do whatever his honour directed; and so the -proper copies were drawn as I had been told were required. - -“But now, what will you do with this money, Jacque?” says he, smiling. -“Will you buy your liberty of me, and go to planting?” - -I was too cunning for him now indeed, for I remembered what he had -promised me; and I had too much knowledge of the honesty of his -principles, as well as of the kindness he had for me, to doubt his -being as good as his word; so I turned all this talk of his upon him -another way. I knew that when he asked me if I would buy my liberty and -go to planting, it was to try if I would leave him; so I said, “As to -buying my liberty, sir—that is to say, going out of your service—I had -much rather buy more time in your service, and I am only unhappy that I -have but two years to serve.” - -“Come, come, colonel,” says he, “don’t flatter me; I love plain -dealing. Liberty is precious to everybody; if you have a mind to have -your money brought over, you shall have your liberty to begin for -yourself, and I will take care you shall be well used by the country, -and get you a good plantation.” - -I still insisted that I would not quit his service for the best -plantation in Maryland; that he had been so good to me, and I believed -I was so useful to him, that I could not think of it; and at last I -added I hoped he could not believe but I had as much gratitude as a -negro. - -He smiled, and said he would not be served upon those 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 pulls out a piece of paper, and throws it to me: -“There,” says he, “there’s a certificate of your coming 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.” 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 service. And now we strained courtesies, and he told -me I should be his servant still; but it should be on two conditions: -first, that he would give me £30 a year 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 upon my own account, -“For, Colonel Jacque,” says he, smiling, “though you are but a young -man, yet ’tis time you were doing something for yourself.” - -I answered that I could do little at a plantation for myself, unless I -neglected his business, which I was resolved not to do on any terms -whatever, but that I would serve him faithfully, if he would accept of -me, as long as he lived. “So you shall,” says he again, “and serve -yourself too.” And thus we parted for that time. - -Here I am to observe in the general, to avoid dwelling too long upon a -story, that as the two negroes who I delivered from punishment were -ever after the most diligent and laborious poor fellows in the whole -plantation as above, except Mouchat, of whom I shall speak more -by-and-by, so they not only were grateful themselves for their good -usage, but they influenced the whole plantation; so that the gentle -usage and lenity with which they had been treated had a thousand times -more influence upon them to make them diligent than all the blows and -kicks, whippings, and other tortures could have which they had been -used to. And now the plantation was famous for it; so that several -other planters began to do the same, though I cannot say it was with -the same success, which might be for want of taking pains with them and -working upon their passions in a right manner. It appeared that negroes -were to be reasoned into things as well as other people, and it was by -thus managing their reason that most of the work was done. - -However, as it was, the plantations in Maryland were the better for -this undertaking, and they are to this day less cruel and barbarous to -their negroes than they are in Barbados and Jamaica; and ’tis observed -the negroes are not in these colonies so desperate, neither do they so -often run away or so often plot mischief against their master, as they -do in those. - -I have dwelt the longer upon it that, if possible, posterity might be -persuaded to try gentler methods with those miserable creatures, and to -use them with humanity; assuring them that if they did so, adding the -common prudence that every particular case would direct them to for -itself, the negroes would do their work faithfully and cheerfully; they -would not find any of that refractoriness and sullenness in their -temper that they pretend now to complain of, but they would be the same -as their Christian servants, except that they would be the more -thankful, and humble, and laborious of the two. - -I continued in this station between five and six years after this, and -in all that time we had not one negro whipped, except, as I observed -before, now and then an unlucky boy, and that only for trifles. I -cannot say but we had some ill-natured, ungovernable negroes; but if at -any time such offended, they were pardoned the first time, in the -manner as above, and the second time were ordered to be turned out of -the plantation. And this was remarkable, that they would torment -themselves at the apprehension of being turned away, more by a great -deal than if they had been to be whipped, for then they were only -sullen and heavy. Nay, at length we found the fear of being turned out -of the plantation had as much effect to reform them—that is to say, -make them more diligent—than any torture would have done; and the -reason was evident, namely, because in our plantation they were used -like men, in the other like dogs. - -My master owned the satisfaction he took in this blessed change, as he -called it, as long as he lived; and as he was so engaged by seeing the -negroes grateful, he showed the same principle of gratitude to those -that served him as he looked for in those that he served, and -particularly to me; and so I come briefly to that part. The first thing -he did after giving me my liberty as above, and making me an allowance, -was to get the country bounty to me—that is to say, a quantity of land -to begin and plant for myself. - -But this he managed a way by himself, and, as I found afterwards, took -up, that is, purchased in my name, about three hundred acres of land, -in a more convenient place than it would have otherwise been allotted -me; and this he did by his interest with the lord proprietor; so that I -had an extent of ground marked out to me, not next but very near one of -his own plantations. When I made my acknowledgment for this to him, he -told me plainly that I was not beholden to him for it all; for he did -it that I might not be obliged to neglect his business for the carrying -on my own, and on that account he would not reckon to me what money he -paid, which, however, according to the custom of the country, was not a -very great sum—I think about £40 or £50. - -Thus he very generously gave me my liberty, advanced this money for me, -put me into a plantation for myself, and gave me £30 a year wages for -looking after one of his own plantations. - -“But, Colonel,” says he to me, “giving you this plantation is nothing -at all to you 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 to you for -the carrying it on; such as tools, provisions for servants, and some -servants to begin; materials to build outhouses, and conveniences of -all sorts for the plantation, and to buy hogs, cows, horses for stock, -and the like; and I’ll take it out of your cargo, which will come from -London, for the money of your bill.” - -This was highly obliging and very kind, and the more so, as it -afterwards appeared. In order to this he sent two servants of his own -who were carpenters. As for timber, boards, planks, and all sorts of -such things, in a country almost all made of wood they could not be -wanting. These run me up a little wooden house in less than three -weeks’ time, where I had three rooms, a kitchen, an outhouse, and two -large sheds at a distance from the house for store houses, almost like -barns, with stables at the end of them; and thus I was set up in the -world, and, in short, removed by the degrees that you have heard from a -pickpocket to a kidnapped, miserable slave in Virginia (for Maryland is -Virginia, speaking of them at a distance); then from a slave to a -head-officer or overseer of slaves, and from thence to a -master-planter. - -I had now, as above, a house, a stable, two warehouses, and three -hundred acres of land; but, as we say, bare walls make giddy hussies, -so I had neither axe nor hatchet to cut down the trees; horse, nor hog, -nor cow to put upon the land; not a hoe or a spade to break ground, nor -a pair of hands but my own to go to work upon. - -But Heaven and kind masters make up all those things to a diligent -servant; and I mention it because people who are either transported or -otherwise trepanned into those places are generally thought to be -rendered miserable and undone; whereas, on the contrary, I would -encourage them, upon my own experience, to depend upon it, that if -their own diligence in the time of service gains them but a good -character, which it will certainly do if they can deserve it, there is -not the poorest and most despicable felon that ever went over but may, -after his time is served, begin for himself, and may in time be sure of -raising a good plantation. - -For example, I will now take a man in the meanest circumstances of a -servant, who has served out his five or seven years; suppose a -transported wretch for seven years. The custom of the place was -then—what it is since I know not—that on his master’s certifying that -he had served his time out faithfully, he had fifty acres of land -allotted him for planting, and on this plan he begins. - -Some had a horse, a cow, and three hogs given, or rather lent, them, as -a stock for the land, which they made an allowance for at a certain -time and rate. - -Custom has made it a trade to give credit to such beginners as these -for tools, clothes, nails, ironwork, and other things necessary for -their planting, and which the persons so giving credit to them are to -be paid for out of the crop of tobacco which they shall plant. Nor is -it in the debtor’s power to defraud the creditor of payment in that -manner; and as tobacco is their coin as well as their product, so all -things are to be purchased at a certain quantity of tobacco, the price -being so rated. - -Thus the naked planter has credit at his beginning, and immediately -goes to work to cure the land and plant tobacco; and from this little -beginning have some of the most considerable planters in Virginia, and -in Maryland also, raised themselves—namely, from being without a hat or -a shoe to estates of £40,000 or £50,000; and in this method, I may add, -no diligent man ever miscarried, if he had health to work and was a -good husband; for he every year increases a little, and every year -adding more land and planting more tobacco, which is real money, he -must gradually increase in substance, till at length he gets enough to -buy negroes and other servants, and then never works himself any more. - -In a word, every Newgate wretch, every desperate forlorn creature, the -most despicable ruined man in the world, has here a fair opportunity -put into his hands to begin the world again, and that upon a foot of -certain gain and in a method exactly honest, with a reputation that -nothing past will have any effect upon; and innumerable people have -raised themselves from the worst circumstances in the world—namely, -from the cells in Newgate. - -But I return to my own story. I was now a planter, and encouraged by a -kind benefactor; for, that I might not be wholly taken up with my new -plantation, he gave me freely, and without any consideration, my -grateful negro, Mouchat. He told me it was a debt due to the affection -that poor creature had always had for me; and so indeed it was, for as -the fellow would once have been hanged for me, so now, and to his last, -he loved me so much that it was apparent he did everything with -pleasure that he did for me; and he was so overcome of joy when he -heard that he was to be my negro that the people in the plantation -really thought it would turn his head, and that the fellow would go -distracted. - -Besides this, he sent me two servants more, a man and a woman, but -these he put to my account, as above. Mouchat and these two fell -immediately to work for me, and 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, or shed rather, for so -it should be called. - -These two acres I got in good forwardness, and most of it well planted -with tobacco; though some of it we were obliged to plant with -garden-stuff for food, such as potatoes, carrots, cabbages, peas, -beans, &c. - -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. For my bill, as I have observed, having been copied and -attested in form, and sent to London, my kind friend and custom-house -gentleman paid me the money, and the merchant at London, by my good -master’s direction, had laid it all out 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 capes; that is to say, the mouth of the bay. Some -of the goods were recovered, but spoiled; and, in short, nothing but -the nails, tools, and ironwork were good for anything; and though the -value of them was pretty considerable in proportion to the rest, yet my -loss was irreparably great, and indeed the greatness of the loss to me -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 several -years before 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 cheerfully to me. “Come,” says he, -“do not be so discouraged; you may make up this loss.” “No, sir,” says -I; “that never can be, for it is my all, and I shall never be out of -debt.” “Well, but,” says he, “you have no creditor, however, but me; -and now I remember I once told you I would make a man of you, and I -will not disappoint you for this disaster.” - -I thanked him, and did it with more ceremony and respect than ever, -because I thought myself 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 ironwork saved out of the ship, in -proportion, than I wanted, 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—that is to say, £30 -a year—because I wanted it very much; but the second and third year I -resolved not to take it on any account whatsoever, but to leave it in -my benefactor’s hands to clear off the debt I had contracted. - -And now I must impose a short digression on the reader, to note that -notwithstanding all the disadvantages of a most wretched education, yet -now, when I began to feel myself, as I may say, in the world, and to be -arrived to an independent state, and to foresee that I might be -something considerable in time; I say, now I found different sentiments -of things taking place in my mind. And, first, I had a solid principle -of justice and honesty, and a secret horror at things past, when I -looked back upon my former life. That original something—I knew not -what—that used formerly to check me in the first meannesses of my -youth, and used to dictate to me when I was but a child that I was to -be a gentleman, continued to operate upon me now in a manner I cannot -describe; and I continually remembered the words of the ancient -glassmaker to the gentleman that he reproved for swearing, that to be a -gentleman was to be an honest man; that without honesty human nature -was sunk and degenerated; the gentleman lost all the dignity of his -birth, and placed himself even below an honest beggar. These -principles, growing upon my mind in the present circumstances I was in, -gave me a secret satisfaction that I can give no description of. It was -an inexpressible joy to me that I was now like to be, not only a man, -but an honest man; and it yielded me a greater pleasure that I was -ransomed from being a vagabond, a thief, and a criminal, as I had been -from a child, than that I was delivered from slavery and the wretched -state of a Virginia sold servant. I had notion enough in my mind of the -hardships of the servant, or slave, because I had felt it and worked -through it; I remembered it as a state of labour and servitude, -hardship and suffering. But the other shocked my very nature, chilled -my blood, and turned the very soul within me; the thought of it was -like reflections upon hell and the damned spirits; it struck me with -horror, it was odious and frightful to look back on, and it gave me a -kind of a fit, a convulsion or nervous disorder, that was very uneasy -to me. - -But to look forward, to reflect how things were changed, how happy I -was that I could live by my own endeavours, and was no more under the -necessity of being a villain, and of getting my bread at my own hazard -and the ruin of honest families—this had in it something more than -commonly pleasing and agreeable, and, in particular, it had a pleasure -that till then I had known nothing of. It was a sad thing to be under a -necessity of doing evil to procure that subsistence which I could not -support the want of, to be obliged to run the venture of the gallows -rather than the venture of starving, and to be always wicked for fear -of want. - -I cannot say that I had any serious religious reflections, or that -these things proceeded yet from the uneasiness of conscience, but from -mere reasonings with myself, and from being arrived to a capacity of -making a right judgment of things more than before. Yet I own I had -such an abhorrence of the wicked life I had led that I was secretly -easy, and had a kind of pleasure in the disaster that was upon me about -the ship, and that, though it was a loss, I could not but be glad that -those ill-gotten goods was gone, and that I had lost what I had stolen. -For I looked on it as none of mine, and that it would be fire in my -flax if I should mingle it with what I had now, which was come honestly -by, and was, as it were, sent from heaven to lay the foundation of my -prosperity, which the other would be only as a moth to consume. - -At the same time my thoughts dictated to me, that though this was the -foundation of my new life, yet that this was not the superstructure, -and that I might still be born for greater things than these; that it -was honesty and virtue alone that made men rich and great, and gave -them a fame as well as a 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 I began now to love books, and particularly I had an -opportunity of reading some very considerable ones, such as Livy’s -Roman History, the history of the Turks, the English History of Speed, -and others; the history of the Low Country wars, the history of -Gustavus Adolphus, king of Sweden, and the history of the Spaniards’ -conquest of Mexico, with several others, some of which I bought at a -planter’s house who was lately dead and his goods sold, and others I -had borrowed. - -I considered my present state of life to be my mere youth, though I was -now above thirty years old, because in my youth I had learned nothing; -and if my daily business, which was now great, would have permitted, I -would have been content to have gone to school. However, fate, that had -yet 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 life; -that he acknowledged; and being driven to extremities, took to the -highway, for which, had he been taken, he would have been hanged. But -falling into some low-prized rogueries afterwards, for want of -opportunity for worse, was catched, condemned, and transported, 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 months, if I would let him -have books, or even without books, if he had time. I told him a book -would become his hands 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 I was assured that he was fit to receive -that favour of a kind master. In short, I made him to me what my -benefactor made me to him, and from him I gained a fund of knowledge -infinitely more valuable than the rate of a slave, which was what I had -paid for it; but of this hereafter. - -With these thoughts I went cheerfully about my work. As I had now five -servants, my plantation went on, though gently, yet safely, and -increased gradually, though slowly. But the third year, with the -assistance of my old benefactor, I purchased two negroes more, so that -now I had seven servants; and having cured land sufficient for supply -of their food, I was at no difficulty to maintain them; so that my -plantation began now to enlarge itself, and as I lived without any -personal expense, but was maintained at my old great master’s, as we -called him, and at his charge, with £30 a year besides, so all my gains -was laid up for increase. - -In this posture I went on for twelve years, and was very successful in -my plantation, and had gotten, by means of my master’s favour, who 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 plantation, 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 chiefly carried on his whole business for him. -Yet I seemed now at a loss; my counsellor and my chief supporter was -gone, and I had no confidant to communicate myself to, on all -occasions, as formerly; but there was no remedy. I was, however, in a -better condition to stand alone than ever. I had a very large -plantation, and had near seventy negroes and other servants. In a word, -I was grown really rich, considering my first circumstances, that began -as I may say with nothing; that is to say, I had nothing of stock, but -I had a great beginning, for I had such a man’s friendship and support -in my beginning, that indeed I needed no other stock; and if I had had -£500 to have begun with, and not the assistance, advice, and -countenance of such a man, I had not been in a better condition. But he -promised to make a man of me; and so he did, and in one respect I may -say I have merited it of him, for I brought his plantation into such -order, and the government of his negroes into such a regulation, that -if he had given £500 to have had it done, he would have thought his -money well bestowed. His work was always in order, going forward to his -mind; every thing was in a thriving posture; his servants all loved -him, even negroes and all, and yet there was no such thing as a cruel -punishment or severities known among them. - -In my own plantation it was the same thing. I wrought so upon the -reason and the affections of my negroes that they served me cheerfully, -and, by consequence, faithfully and diligently; when in my neighbour’s -plantation there was not a week hardly passed without such horrible -outcries, roarings and yellings of the servants, either under torture -or in fear of it, that their negroes would, in discourse with ours, -wish themselves dead and gone, as it seems they believed they should -after death, into their own country. - -If I met with a sullen, stupid fellow, as sometimes it was unavoidable, -I always parted with him and sold him off; for I would not keep any -that sense of kind usage would not oblige. But I seldom met with such -bad ones; for, by talking to them in a plain reasoning way, I found the -temper of the roughest of them would break and soften. The sense of -their own interest would prevail with them at first or last; and if it -had not, the contrary temper was so general among my people that their -own fellows and countrymen would be against them, and that served to -bring them to reason as soon as any other thing. And this those who -think it worth their while will easily find, viz., that having -prevailed effectually over one leading man among them to be tractable, -and pleased, and grateful, he shall make them all like him, and that in -a little while, with more ease than can be imagined. - -I was now a planter, and also a student. My pedagogue I mentioned above -was very diligent, and proved an extraordinary man indeed. He taught me -not only with application, but with admirable judgment in the teaching -part; for I have seen it in many instances since that time that every -good scholar is not fitted for a schoolmaster, and that the art of -teaching is quite different from that of knowing the language taught. - -But this man had both, and proved of great use to me, and I found -reason, in the worth of the person, to be very kind to him, his -circumstances considered. I once took the liberty to ask him how it -came to pass that he, who must have had a liberal education and great -advantages to have advanced him in the world, should be capable of -falling into such miserable circumstances as he was in when he came -over. I used some caution in entering upon an inquiry which, as I said, -might not be pleasant to him to relate, but that I would make him -amends by telling him, that if he desired not to enter into it with me, -I would readily excuse him, and would not take it ill at all. This I -did because to a man under such afflictions one should always be -tender, and not put them upon relating anything of themselves which was -grievous to them or which they had rather was concealed. - -But he told me that it was true, that to look back upon his past life -was indeed _renovare dolorem_; but that such mortifications were now -useful to him, to help forward that repentance which he hoped he was -sincerely entered upon; and that though it was with horror he looked -back upon misspent time and ill-applied gifts which a bountiful Creator -had blessed him with, and spared to him for a better improvement, yet -he thought he ought to load himself with as much of the shame as it -pleased God to make his lot, since he had already loaded himself with -the guilt in a shameless manner, till God, he still hoped in mercy to -him, had cut him short and brought him to public disgrace; though he -could not say he had been brought to justice, for then he had been sent -into eternity in despair, and not been sent to Virginia to repent of -the wickedest life that ever man lived. He would have gone on, but I -found his speech interrupted by a passionate struggle within, between -his grief and his tears. - -I took no more notice of it than to tell him that I was sorry I had -asked him about it, but that it was my curiosity. When I saw that -ignorant, untaught, untractable creatures come into misery and shame, I -made no inquiry after their affairs; but when I saw men of parts and -learning take such steps, I concluded it must be occasioned by -something exceeding wicked. “So, indeed,” said he, “the judge said to -me when I begged mercy of him in Latin. He told me that when a man with -such learning falls into such crimes he is more inexcusable than other -men, because, his learning recommending him, he could not want -advantages and had the less temptation to crimes.” - -“But, sir,” said he, “I believe my case was what I find is the case of -most of the wicked part of the world, viz., that to be reduced to -necessity is to be wicked; for necessity is not only the temptation, -but is such a temptation as human nature is not empowered to resist. -How good, then,” says he, “is that God which takes from you, sir, the -temptation, by taking away the necessity!” - -I was so sensible of the truth of what he said, knowing it by my own -case, that I could not enter any further upon the discourse; but he -went on voluntarily. “This, sir,” says he, “I am so sensible of that I -think the case I am reduced to much less miserable than the life which -I lived before, because I am delivered from the horrid necessity of -doing such ill things which was my ruin and disaster then, even for my -bread, and am not now obliged to ravish my bread out of the mouths of -others by violence and disorder, but am fed, though I am made to earn -it by the hard labour of my hands, and I thank God for the difference.” -He paused here, but went on thus:— - -“How much is the life of a slave in Virginia to be preferred to that of -the most prosperous thief in the world! Here I live miserable, but -honest; suffer wrong, but do no wrong; my body is punished, but my -conscience is not loaded; and as I used to say that I had no leisure to -look in, but I would begin when I had some recess, some time to spare, -now God has found me leisure to repent.” He run on in this manner a -great while, giving thanks, I believe most heartily, for his being -delivered from the wretched life he had lived, though his misery were -to be tenfold as much as it was. - -I was sincerely touched with his discourse on this subject. I had known -so much of the real difference of the case that I could not but be -affected with it, though till now, I confess, I knew little of the -religious part. I had been an offender as well as he, though not -altogether in the same degree, but I knew nothing of the penitence; -neither had I looked back upon anything as a crime, but as a life -dishonourable and not like a gentleman, which run much in my thoughts, -as I have several times mentioned. - -“Well, but now,” says I, “you talk penitently, and I hope you are -sincere; but what would be your case if you were delivered from the -miserable condition of a slave sold for money, which you are now in? -Should you not, think you, be the same man?” - -“Blessed be God,” says he, “that, if I thought I should, I would -sincerely pray that I might not be delivered, and that I might for ever -be a slave rather than a sinner.” - -“Well, but,” says I, “suppose you to be under the same necessity, in -the same starving condition, should you not take the same course?” - -He replied very sharply, “That shows us the need we have of the -petition in the Lord’s prayer, ‘Lead us not into temptation;’ and of -Solomon’s or Agar’s prayer, ‘Give me not poverty, lest I steal.’ I -should ever beg of God not to be left to such snares as human nature -cannot resist. But I have some hope, that I should venture to starve -rather than to steal; but I also beg to be delivered from the danger, -because I know not my own strength.” - -This was honestly spoken, indeed; and there really were such visible -tokens of sincerity in all his discourse that I could not suspect him. -On some of our discourses on this subject, he pulled out a little dirty -paper-book, in which he had wrote down such a prayer in verse as I -doubt few Christians in the world could subscribe to; and I cannot but -record it, because I never saw anything like it in my life. The lines -are as follow:— - -“Lord! whatsoever sorrows rack my breast, -Till crime removes too, let me find no rest; -How dark soe’er my state or sharp my pain, -Oh! let not troubles cease and sin remain. -For Jesus’ sake remove not my distress, -Till free triumphant grace shall repossess -The vacant throne from whence my sins depart, -And make a willing captive of my heart; -Till grace completely shall my soul subdue, -Thy conquest full and my subjection true.” - - -There were more lines on the same subject, but these were the -beginning; and these touching me so sensibly, I have remembered them -distinctly ever since, and have, I believe, repeated them to myself a -thousand times. - -I pressed him no more, you may be sure, after an answer so very -particular and affecting as this was. It was easy to see the man was a -sincere penitent, not sorrowing for the punishment he was suffering -under; for his condition was no part of his affliction; he was rather -thankful for it, as above; but his concern was a feeling and affecting -sense of the wicked and abominable life he had led, the abhorred crimes -he had committed both against God and man, and the little sense he had -had of the condition he was in, and that even till he came to the place -where he now was. - -I asked him if he had no reflections of this kind after or before his -sentence. He told me Newgate (for the prison at Bristol is called so, -it seems, as well as that at London) was a place that seldom made -penitents, but often made villains worse, till they learnt to defy God -and devil; but that, however, he could look back with this -satisfaction, that he could say he was not altogether insensible of it -even then; but nothing that amounted to a thorough serious looking up -to heaven; that he often indeed looked in, and reflected upon his past -misspent life, even before he was in prison, when the intervals of his -wicked practices gave some time for reflection, and he would sometimes -say to himself, “Whither am I going? to what will all these things -bring me at last? and where will they end? Sin and shame follow one -another, and I shall certainly come to the gallows. Then,” said he, “I -would strike upon my breast, and say, ‘O wicked wretch! when will you -repent?’ and would answer myself as often, ‘Never! never! never! except -it be in a gaol or at a gibbet.’ - -“Then,” said he, “I would weep and sigh, and look back a little upon my -wretched life, the history of which would make the world amazed; but, -alas! the prospect was so dark, and it filled me with so much terror, -that I could not bear it. Then I would fly to wine and company for -relief; that wine brought on excess, and that company, being always -wicked company like yourself, brought on temptation, and then all -reflection vanished and I was the same devil as before.” - -He spoke this with so much affection that his face was ever smiling -when he talked of it, and yet his eyes had tears standing in them at -the same time, and all the time; for he had a delightful sorrow, if -that be a proper expression, in speaking of it. - -This was a strange relation to me, and began to affect me after a -manner that I did not understand. I loved to hear him talk of it, and -yet it always left a kind of a dead lump behind it upon my heart, which -I could give no reason for, nor imagine to what it should tend; I had a -heaviness on my soul, without being able to describe it or to say what -ailed me. - -Well, he went on with his relation. “After this,” says he, “I fell into -the hands of a justice for a trifle, a piece of sport in our crime; and -I, that for a hundred robberies, as well on the highway as otherwise, -the particulars of which would fill a book to give an account of, -ought, whenever I was taken, to be hanged in chains, and who, if it had -been public, could not have failed of having twenty people come in -against me, was privately hurried into a country gaol under a wrong -name; tried for a small fact, within benefit of clergy, and in which I -was not principally guilty, and by this means obtained the favour of -being transported. - -“And what think you,” said he, “has most sensibly affected me, and -brought on the blessed change that, I hope I may say, God has wrought -in my soul? Not the greatness of my crimes, but the wonders of that -merciful Providence, which, when it has mercy in store for a man, often -brings him into the briers, into sorrow and misery for lesser sins, -that men may be led to see how they are spared from the punishment due -to them for the greater guilt which they know lies upon them. Do you -think that when I received the grant of transportation I could be -insensible what a miracle of divine goodness such a thing must be to -one who had so many ways deserved to be hanged, and must infallibly -have died if my true name had been known, or if the least notice had -been given that it was such a notorious wretch as I that was in -custody? There began the first motive of repentance; for certainly the -goodness of our great Creator in sparing us, when we forfeit our lives -to His justice, and His merciful bringing us out of the miseries which -we plunge ourselves into, when we have no way to extricate ourselves; -His bringing those very miseries to be the means of our deliverance, -and working good to us out of evil, when we are working the very evil -out of His good; I say, these things are certainly the strongest -motives to repentance that are in the world, and the sparing thieves -from the gallows certainly makes more penitents than the gallows -itself. - -“It is true,” continued he, “that the terror of punishment works -strongly upon the mind; in view of death men are filled with horror of -soul, and immediately they call that repentance which I doubt is too -often mistaken, being only a kind of anguish in the soul, which breeds -a grief for the punishment that is to be suffered—an amazement founded -upon the dreadful view of what is to follow. But the sense of mercy is -quite another thing; this seizes all the passions and all the -affections, and works a sincere, unfeigned abhorrence of the crime, as -a crime, as an offence against our Benefactor, as an act of baseness -and ingratitude to Him who has given us life and all the blessings and -comforts of life, and who has conquered us by continuing to do us good, -when He has been provoked to destroy us. - -“This, sir,” says he, “has been the fountain of that repentance which I -so much rejoice in; this is the delightful sorrow,” says he, “that I -spoke of just now; and this makes smiles sit on my face while tears run -from my eyes, a joy that I can no otherwise express than by telling -you, sir, that I never lived a happy day since I came to an age of -acting in the world till I landed in this country, and worked in your -plantation, naked and hungry, weary and faint, oppressed with cold in -one season, and heat in the other. Then I began to see into my own -ways, and see the difference between the hardships of the body and the -torment of the mind. Before I revelled in fulness, and here I struggled -with hard fare; then I wallowed in sloth and voluptuous ease; here I -laboured till nature sometimes was just sinking under the load; but -with this difference in the felicity of either case, namely, that there -I had a hell in my soul, was filled with horror and confusion, was a -daily terror to myself, and always expected a miserable end; whereas -here I had a blessed calm of soul, an emblem and forerunner of heaven, -thankful and humble, adoring that mercy that had snatched me out of the -jaws of the devil. These took up my thoughts, and made my most weary -hours pleasant to me, my labour light, and my heart cheerful. I never -lay down on my hard lodging but I praised God with the greatest excess -of affection, not only that it was not the condemned hole, and that I -was delivered from the death I had deserved, but that it was not -Shooter’s Hill; that I was not still a robber, a terror to just and -honest men, a plunderer of the innocent and the poor, a thief, and a -villain, that ought to be rooted out from the earth for the safety of -others; but that I was delivered from the horrid temptation of sinning -to support my luxury, and making one vice necessary to another; and -this, I bear witness, is sufficient to sweeten the bitterest sorrow, -and make any man be thankful for Virginia, or a worse place, if that -can be.” - -He then entertained me with an opinion of his, that if it were possible -for the face of heaven and hell to be disclosed and laid open, and that -men could be made capable of seeing distinctly and separately the joys -and glory and utmost felicity of one, and the horrors of the other, and -to make a judgment of both according to the power of human reasoning, -the first would have a stronger and more powerful effect to reform the -world than the latter; but this we had further discourses about on many -occasions. - -If it should be inquired how I was capable of hearing all this, and -having no impressions made upon my mind by it, especially when it so -many ways suited my own case, and the condition of the former part of -my life, I shall answer that presently by myself. However, I took no -notice of it to him, for he had quite other notions of me than I had of -myself; nor did I, as is usual in such cases, enter into any confidence -with him on my own story, only that I took sometimes the occasion to -let him know that I did not come over to Virginia in the capacity of a -criminal, or that I was not transported; which, considering how many of -the inhabitants there were so who then lived in good circumstances, was -needful enough to be done. - -But as to myself, it was enough that I was in condition now; ’twas no -matter to anybody what I had been; and as it was grown pretty much out -of memory from what original disaster I came into the country, or that -I was ever a servant otherwise than voluntary, and that it was no -business of mine to expose myself, so I kept that part close. But for -all that, it was impossible for me to conceal the disorder I was in as -often as he talked of these things. I had hitherto gone on upon a -notion of things founded only in their appearance, as they affected me -with good or evil, esteeming the happy and unhappy part of life to be -those that gave me ease or sorrow, without regarding, or indeed much -understanding, how far those turns of life were influenced by the Giver -of Life, or how far they were all directed by a sovereign God that -governs the world, and all the creatures he had made. - -As I had no education but as you have heard, so I had had no -instruction, no knowledge of religion, or indeed of the meaning of it; -and though I was now in a kind of search after religion, it was a mere -looking, as it were, into the world to see what kind of a thing or -place it was, and what had been done in it. But as to Him that made it, -there had truly been scarce a creature among all that He had made, with -souls in them, that were so entirely without the knowledge of God as I -was, and made so little inquiry about it. - -But the serious, affectionate discourse of this young man began to have -different effects upon me, and I began to say to myself, “This man’s -reflections are certainly very just; but what a creature am I, and what -have I been doing!—I that never once did this in all my life; that -never said so much—’God, I thank Thee for all that I have been saved -from, or all that I have been brought to in this world;’ and yet my -life has been as full of variety, and I have been as miraculously -delivered from dangers and mischiefs, and as many of them, as ever he -has. And if it has all been brought to pass by an invisible hand in -mercy to me, what have I been doing, and where have I lived, that I -only should be the most thoughtless and unthankful of all God’s -creatures?” - -This, indeed, began to grow upon me, and made me very melancholy; but -as to religion, I understood so little about it that if I had resolved -upon any such thing as a new course of life, or to set about a -religious change, I knew not at which end to begin or what to do about -it. - -One day it happened that my tutor—for so I always called him—had the -Bible in his hand, and was looking in it, as he generally did many -times every day, though I knew not for what. Seeing the Bible, I took -it out of his hands, and went to look in it, which I had done so little -before that I think I might safely say I had never read a chapter in it -in all my life. He was talking of the Bible then as a book only, and -where he had it, and how he brought it to Virginia, and in some ecstasy -he took and kissed it. “This blessed book!” says he; “this was all the -treasure I brought out from England with me. And a comfortable treasure -it has been to me,” added he; “I would not have been without it in my -sorrows for any other treasure in the world;” and so he went on at -large. - -I, that had no notion of what he meant—only, as I have said above, some -young infant thoughts about the works of Providence in the world and -its merciful dealings with me—took the book out of his hand and went to -look in it; and the book opened at the Acts xxvi. 28, where Felix says -to St. Paul, “Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian.” “I think,” -says I, “here’s a line hits me to a tittle, upon the long account you -have given of yourself, and I must say them to you, as the governor -here said;” and so I read the words to him. He blushed at the text, and -returns, “I wish I could answer you in the very words the Apostle -returned to him in the next verse: ‘I would thou wert both almost, and -altogether such as I am, except these bonds.’” - -I was now more than thirty years old by my own account, and as well as -it was possible for me to keep a reckoning of my age, who had nobody -left that ever knew my beginning; I was, I say, above thirty years old, -and had gone through some variety in the world. But as I was perfectly -abandoned in my infancy, and utterly without instruction in my youth, -so I was entirely ignorant of everything that was worthy the name of -religion in the world; and this was the first time that ever any notion -of religious things entered into my heart. I was surprised at this -man’s talk, and that several ways particularly he talked so feelingly -of his past circumstances, and they were so like my own, that every -time he made a religious inference from his own condition, and argued -from one condition of his to another, it struck into my thoughts like a -bullet from a gun that I had certainly as much to be thankful for and -to repent of as he had, except only that I had no knowledge of better -things to be thankful for, which he had. But in return for that, I was -delivered and set up in the world, made a master, and easy, and was in -good circumstances, being raised from the very same low, distressed -condition as he was in—I mean a sold servant—but that he remained so -still; so that, if his sin had been greater than mine, so his distress -was still greater. - -This article of gratitude struck deep and lay heavy upon my mind. I -remembered that I was grateful to the last degree to my old master, who -had raised me from my low condition, and that I loved the very name of -him, or, as might be said, the very ground he trod on; but I had not so -much as once thought of any higher obligation; no, nor so much as, like -the Pharisee, had said once, “God, I thank thee,” to Him, for all the -influence which His providence must have had in my whole affair. - -It occurred to me presently that if none of all these things befall us -without the direction of a Divine Power, as my new instructor had told -me at large, and that God had ordered everything, the most minute and -least transaction of life, insomuch that not a hair of our head shall -fall to the ground without His permission; I say, it occurred to me -that I had been a most unthankful dog to that Providence that had done -so much for me; and the consequence of the reflection was immediately -this: how justly may that Power, so disobliged, take away again His -wool and His flax, with which I am now clothed, and reduce me to the -misery of my first circumstances. - -This perplexed me much, and I was very pensive and sad; in which, -however, my new instructor was a constant comforter to me, and I -learned every day something or other from him; upon which I told him -one morning that I thought be must leave off teaching me Latin, and -teach me religion. He spoke with a great deal of modesty of his being -incapable of informing me of anything that I did not know, and proposed -to me to read the Scriptures every day, as the sure and only fund of -instruction. I answered that, in the words of the eunuch to St. Philip -when the apostle asked him if he understood what he read: “How can I, -unless some one guide me?” - -We talked frequently upon this subject, and I found so much reason to -believe he was a sincere convert that I can speak of him as no other in -all I have to say of him. However, I cannot say my thoughts were yet -ripened for an operation of that kind. I had some uneasiness about my -past life, and I lived now, and had done so before I knew him, a very -regular, sober life, always taken up in my business and running into no -excesses. But as to commencing penitent, as this man had done, I cannot -say I had any convictions upon me sufficient to bring it on, nor had I -a fund of religious knowledge to support me in it. So it wore off again -gradually, as such things generally do where the first impressions are -not deep enough. - -In the meantime, as he read over long lectures of his own disasters to -me, and applied them all seriously to me, so our discourse was always -very solid and weighty, and we had nothing of levity between us, even -when we were not concerned in religious discourses. He read history to -me; and, where books were wanting, he gave me ideas of those things -which had not been recorded by our modern histories, or at least that -our number of books would not reach. By these things he raised an -unquenchable thirst in me, after seeing something that was doing in the -world; and the more because all the world was at that time engaged, -more or less, in the great war wherein the French king might be said to -be engaged with and against all the powers of Europe. - -Now, I looked upon myself as one buried alive in a remote part of the -world, where I could see nothing at all, and hear but a little of what -was seen, and that little not till at least half a year after it was -done, and sometimes a year or more; and, in a word, the old reproach -often came in the way—namely, that even this was not yet the life of a -gentleman. - -It was true that this was much nearer to it than that of a pickpocket, -and still nearer than that of a sold slave; but, in short, this would -not do, and I could receive no satisfaction in it. I had now a second -plantation, a very considerable one, and it went forward very well. I -had on it almost a hundred servants already of sundry sorts, and an -overseer that I had a great deal of reason to say I might depend upon, -and but that I had a third in embryo, and newly begun, I had nothing to -hinder me from going where I pleased. - -However, I 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 possible, and realise those -things to my mind which I had hitherto only entertained remote ideas of -by the help of books. - -Accordingly I pushed forward the settlement of my third plantation, in -order to bring it to be in a posture either to be let to a tenant or -left in trust with an overseer, as I should find occasion. - -Had I resolved to leave it to an overseer or steward, no man in the -world could have been fit for it like my tutor; but I could not think -of parting with him, who was the cause of my desire of travelling, and -who I concluded to make my partner in my travels. - -END OF VOL. I. - -THE LIFE OF COLONEL JACQUE. - -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, to my great -disappointment, 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’s -diligence and honest application, even unassisted, delivered himself, -[though not] any farther than, as I say, by making him an overseer, -which was only a present ease and deliverance to him from the hard -labour and fare which he endured as a servant. - -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 principal manager for near twenty years, as you shall hear in its -place. - -I mention these things the more at large that, if any unhappy wretch -who may have the disaster to fall into such circumstances as these may -come to see this account, they may learn the following short lessons -from these examples:— - -I. That Virginia and a state of transportation may be the happiest -place and condition they were ever in for this life, as, by a sincere -repentance and a diligent application to the business they are put to, -they are effectually delivered from a life of flagrant wickedness and -put in a perfect new condition, in which they have no temptation to the -crimes they formerly committed, and have a prospect of advantage for -the future. - -II. That in Virginia the meanest and most despicable creature, after -his time of servitude is expired, if he will but apply himself with -diligence and industry to the business of the country, is sure (life -and health supposed) both of living well and growing rich. - -As this is a foundation which the most unfortunate wretch alive is -entitled to, a transported felon is, in my opinion, a much happier man -than the most prosperous untaken thief in the nation. Nor are those -poor young people so much in the wrong as some imagine them to be that -go voluntarily over to those countries, and in order to get themselves -carried over and placed there, freely bind themselves there, especially -if the persons into whose hands they fall do anything honestly by them; -for, as it is to be supposed that those poor people knew not what -course to take before, or had miscarried in their conduct before, here -they are sure to be immediately provided for, and, after the expiration -of their time, to be put in a condition to provide for themselves. But -I return to my own story, which now begins a new scene. - -I was now making provision for my going to England. After having -settled my plantation in such hands as was 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 me 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 correspondent 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 twenty-four guns and about six hundred -hogsheads of tobacco, and we left the capes of Virginia on the 1st 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. - -After we had been about eleven days at sea, having the wind most part -of the time blowing very hard at west, or between the west and -north-west, by which we were carried a great way farther to the -eastward than they usually go in their course for England, we met with -a furious tempest, which held us five days, blowing most of the time -excessive hard, and by which we were obliged to run away afore the -wind, as the seamen call it, wheresoever it was our lot to go. By this -storm our ship was greatly damaged, and some leaks we had, but not so -bad that by the diligence of the seamen they were stopped. However, the -captain, after having beaten up again as well as he could against the -weather, and the sea going very high, at length he resolved to go away -for the Bermudas. - -I was not seaman enough to understand what the reason of their disputes -was, but in their running for the islands it seems they overshot the -latitude, and could never reach the islands of Bermudas again. The -master and the mate differed to an extremity about this, their -reckonings being more than usually wide of one another, the storm -having driven them a little out of their knowledge. The master, being a -positive man, insulted the mate about it, and threatened to expose him -for it when he came to England. The mate was an excellent sea artist -and an experienced sailor, but withal a modest man, and though he -insisted upon his being right, did it in respectful terms and as it -became him. But after several days’ dispute, when the weather came to -abate and the heavens to clear up, that they could take their -observations and know where they were, it appeared that the mate’s -account was right, and the captain was mistaken; for they were then in -the latitude of 29 degrees, and quite out of the wake of the Bermudas. - -The mate made no indecent use of the discovery at all, and the captain, -being convinced, carried it civilly to him, and so the heats were over -among them; but the next question was, what they should do next. Some -were for going one way, some another; but all agreed that they were not -in a condition to go on the direct course for England, unless they -could have a southerly or south-west wind, which had not been our fate -since we came to sea. - -Upon the whole, they resolved by consent to steer away to the Canaries, -which was the nearest land they could make except the Cape de Verde -Islands, which were too much to the southward for us, if it could be -avoided. - -Upon this they stood away N.E., and the wind hanging still westerly, or -to the northward of the west, we made good way, and in about fifteen -days’ sail we made the Pico Teneriffe, being a monstrous hill in one of -the Canary Islands. Here we refreshed ourselves, got fresh water and -some fresh provisions, and plenty of excellent wine, but no harbour to -run into, to take care of the ship, which was leaky and tender, having -had so much very bad weather; so we were obliged to do as well as we -could, and put to sea again, after riding at the Canaries four days -only. - -From the Canaries we had tolerable weather and a smooth sea till we -came into the soundings—so they call the mouth of the British -Channel—and the wind blowing hard at the N. and the N.W. obliged us to -keep a larger offing, as the seamen call it, at our entrance into the -Channel; when, behold! in the grey of the morning a French cruiser or -privateer of twenty-six guns appeared, and crowded after us with all -the sail they could make. In short, our captain exchanged a broadside -or two with them, 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 best 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 to St. Malo. - -I was not much concerned for the loss I had in the ship, because I knew -I had sufficient in the world somewhere or other; but as I was -effectually stripped of everything I had about me, and even almost my -clothes from my back, I was in but a very indifferent condition. But -somebody informing the captain of the privateer, that I was a passenger -and a merchant, he called for me and inquired into my circumstances, -and coming to hear from myself how I had been used, obliged the seamen -to give me a coat and hat and a pair of shoes, which they had taken off -me, and himself gave me a morning gown of his own to wear while I was -in his ship, and, to give him his due, treated me very well. - -I had, however, besides my being taken, the mortification to be -detained on board the cruiser, and seeing the ship I was in manned with -Frenchmen and sent away, as above, for St. Malo; and this was a greater -mortification to me afterwards, when, being brought into St. Malo, I -heard that our own ship was retaken in her passage to St. Malo by an -English man-of-war and carried to Portsmouth. - -When our ship was sent away the _Rover_ cruised abroad again in the -mouth of the Channel for some time, but met with no purchase. At last -they made a sail, which proved to be one of their nation and one of -their own trade, from whom they learned, the news having been carried -to England that some French privateers lay off and on in the soundings, -that three English men-of-war were come out from Plymouth on purpose to -cruise in the Channel, and that they would certainly meet with us. Upon -this intelligence the Frenchman, a bold, brave fellow, far from -shrinking from his work, stands away N.E. for St. George’s Channel, and -in the latitude of 48 degrees and a half, unhappily enough, meets with -a large and rich English ship, bound home from Jamaica. It was in the -grey of the morning, and very clear, when a man on the roundtop cried -out, “_Au voile_, a sail.” I was in hopes indeed it had been the -English men-of-war, and by the hurry and clutter they were in to get -all ready for a fight, I concluded it was so, and got out of my hammock -(for I had no cabin to lie in) that I might see what it was; but I soon -found that my hopes were in vain, and it was on the wrong side; for -that that being on our larboard bow, the ship lying then northward to -make the coast of Ireland, by the time I was turned out I could -perceive they had all their sails bent and full, having begun to chase, -and making great way. On the other hand, it was evident the ship saw -them too, and knew what they were, and, to avoid them, stretched away -with all the canvas they could lay on for the coast of Ireland, to run -in there for harbour. - -Our privateer, it was plain, infinitely outsailed her, running two foot -for her one, and towards evening came up with them. Had they been able -to have held it but six hours longer they would have got into Limerick -River, or somewhere under shore, so that we should not have ventured -upon them. But we came up with them, and the captain, when he saw there -was no remedy, bravely brought to and prepared to fight. She was a ship -of thirty guns, but deep in the sea, cumbered between decks with goods, -and could not run out her lower-deck guns, the sea also going pretty -high, though at last she ventured to open her gun-room ports and fire -with three guns on a side. But her worst fate was, she sailed heavy, -being deep loaden, and the Frenchman had run up by her side and poured -in his broadside, and was soon ready again. However, as she was well -manned too, and that the English sailors bestirred themselves, they -gave us their broadsides too very nimbly and heartily, and I found the -Frenchman had a great many men killed at the first brush. But the next -was worse, for the English ship, though she did not sail so well as the -Frenchman, was a bigger ship and strong built, and as we (the French) -bore down upon them again, the English run boldly on board us, and laid -thwart our hawse, lashing themselves fast to us. Then it was that the -English captain run out his lower tier of guns, and indeed tore the -Frenchman so, that, had he held it, the privateer would have had the -worst of it. But the Frenchman, with admirable readiness, indeed, and -courage, the captain appearing everywhere with his sword in his hand, -bestirred themselves, and loosing themselves from the English ship, -thrusting her off with brooms, and pouring their small shot so thick -that the other could not appear upon deck; I say, clearing themselves -thus, they came to lie a-broadside of each other, when, by long firing, -the English ship was at length disabled, her mizzen-mast and bowsprit -shot away, and, which was worst of all, her captain killed; so that, -after a fight which held all night—for they fought in the dark—and part -of the next day, they were obliged to strike. - -I was civilly desired by the French captain to go down into the hold -while the fight held, and, besides the civility of it, I found he was -not willing I should be upon deck. Perhaps he thought I might have some -opportunity to do hurt, though I know not how it could be. However, I -was very ready to go down, for I had no mind to be killed, especially -by my own friends; so I went down and sat by the surgeon, and had the -opportunity to find that, the first broadside the English fired, seven -wounded men were brought down to the surgeon, and three-and-thirty more -afterwards, that is to say, when the English lay thwart their bow; and -after they cleared themselves there were about eleven more; so that -they had one-and-fifty men wounded and about two-and-twenty killed. The -Englishman had eighteen men killed and wounded, among whom was the -captain. - -The French captain, however, triumphed in his prize; for it was an -exceeding rich ship, having abundance of silver on board. And after the -ship was taken and they had plundered all the great cabin afforded, -which was very considerable, the mate promised the captain that, if he -would give him his liberty, he would discover six thousand pieces of -eight to him privately, which none of the men should know of. The -captain engaged, and gave it under his hand to set him at liberty as -soon as he came on shore. Accordingly, in the night, after all was -either turned in, as they call it, or employed on the duty of the -watch, the captain and the mate of the prize went on board, and having -faithfully discovered the money, which lay in a place made on purpose -to conceal it, the captain resolved to let it lie till they arrived, -and then he conveyed it on shore for his own use; so that the owners, -nor the seamen, ever came to any share of it, which, by the way, was a -fraud in the captain. But the mate paid his ransom by the discovery, -and the captain gave him his liberty very punctually, as he had -promised, and two hundred pieces of eight to carry him to England and -to make good his losses. - -When he had made this prize, the captain thought of nothing more than -how to get safe to France with her, for she was a ship sufficient to -enrich all his men and his owners also. The account of her cargo, by -the captain’s books, of which I took a copy, was in general: - -260 hogsheads of sugar. -187 smaller casks of sugar. -176 barrels of indigo. -28 casks of pimento. -42 bags of cotton wool. -80 cwt. of elephants’ teeth. -60 small casks of rum. -18,000 pieces of eight, besides the six thousand concealed. -Several parcels of drugs, tortoise-shell, sweetmeats, called succades, -chocolate, lime juice, and other things of considerable value. - - -This was a terrible loss among the English merchants, and a noble booty -for the rogues that took it; but as it was in open war and by fair -fighting, as they call it, there was no objection to be made against -them, and, to give them their due, they fought bravely for it. - -The captain was not so bold as to meeting the English men-of-war -before, but he was as wary now; for, having a prize of such value in -his hands, he was resolved not to lose her again, if he could help it. -So he stood away to the southward, and that so far that I once thought -he was resolved to go into the Straits, and home by Marseilles. But -having sailed to the latitude of 45 degrees 3 quarters, or thereabouts, -he steered away east, into the bottom of the Bay of Biscay, and carried -us all into the river of Bordeaux, where, on notice of his arrival with -such a prize, his owners or principals came overland to see him, and -where they consulted what to do with her. The money they secured, to be -sure, and some of the cargo; but the ships sailed afterwards along the -coast to St. Malo, taking the opportunity of some French men-of-war -which were cruising on the coast to be their convoy as far as Ushant. - -Here the captain rewarded and dismissed the English mate, as I have -said, who got a passage from thence to Dieppe by sea, and after that -into England, by the help of a passport, through Flanders to Ostend. -The captain, it seems, the more willingly shipped him off that he might -not discover to others what he had discovered to him. - -I was now at Bordeaux, in France, and the captain asked me one morning -what I intended to do. I did not understand him at first, but he soon -gave me to understand that I was now either to be delivered up to the -state as an English prisoner, and so be carried to Dinan, in Brittany, -or to find means to have myself exchanged, or to pay my ransom, and -this ransom he told me at first was three hundred crowns. - -I knew not what to do, but desired he would give me time to write to -England to my friends; for that I had a cargo of goods sent to them by -me from Virginia, but I did not know but it might have fallen into such -hands as his were, and if it was, I knew not what would be my fate. He -readily granted that; so I wrote by the post, and had the satisfaction, -in answer to it, to hear that the ship I was taken in had been retaken, -and carried into Portsmouth; which I doubted would have made my new -master more strict, and perhaps insolent; but he said nothing of it to -me, nor I to him, though, as I afterwards understood, he had advice of -it before. - -However, this was a help to me, and served to more than pay my ransom -to the captain. And my correspondent in London, hearing of my being -alive and at Bordeaux, immediately sent me a letter of credit upon an -English merchant at Bordeaux for whatever I might have occasion for. As -soon as I received this I went to the merchant, who honoured the letter -of credit, and told me I should have what money I pleased. But as I, -who was before a mere stranger in the place and knew not what course to -take, had now, as it were, a friend to communicate my affairs to and -consult with, as soon as I told him my case, “Hold,” says he; “if that -be your case, I may perhaps find a way to get you off without a -ransom.” - -There was, it seems, a ship bound home to France from Martinico, taken -off Cape Finisterre by an English man-of-war, and a merchant of -Rochelle, being a passenger, was taken on board, and brought into -Plymouth. This man had made great solicitation by his friends to be -exchanged, pleading poverty, and that he was unable to pay any ransom. -My friend told me something of it, but not much, only bade me not be -too forward to pay any money to the captain, but pretend I could not -hear from England. This I did till the captain appeared impatient. - -After some time the captain told me I had used him ill; that I had made -him expect a ransom, and he had treated me courteously and been at -expense to subsist me, and that I held him in suspense, but that, in -short, if I did not procure the money, he would send me to Dinan in ten -days, to lie there as the king’s prisoner till I should be exchanged. -My merchant gave me my cue, and by his direction I answered I was very -sensible of his civility, and sorry he should lose what expenses he had -been at, but that I found my friends forgot me, and what to do I did -not know, and that, rather than impose upon him, I must submit to go to -Dinan, or where he thought fit to send me; but that if ever I obtained -my liberty, and came into England, I would not fail to reimburse him -what expense he had been at for my subsistence; and so, in short, made -my case very bad in all my discourse. He shook his head and said -little, but the next day entered me in the list of English prisoners to -be at the king’s charge, as appointed by the intendant of the place, -and to be sent away into Brittany. - -I was then out of the captain’s power, and immediately the merchant, -with two others who were friends to the merchant prisoner at Plymouth, -went to the intendant and gained an order for the exchange, and my -friend giving security for my being forthcoming, in case the other was -not delivered, I had my liberty immediately, and went home with him to -his house. - -Thus we bilked the captain of his ransom money. But, however, my friend -went to him, and letting him know that I was exchanged by the -governor’s order, paid him whatever he could say he was in disburse on -my account; and it was not then in the captain’s power to object, or to -claim anything for a ransom. - -I got passage from hence to Dunkirk on board a French vessel, and -having a certificate of an exchanged prisoner from the intendent at -Bordeaux, I had a passport given me to go into the Spanish Netherlands, -and so whither I pleased. - -Accordingly I came to Ghent, in April——, just as the armies were going -to take the field. I had no dislike to the business of the army, but I -thought I was a little above it now, and had other things to look to; -for that, in my opinion, nobody went into the field but those that -could not live at home. And yet I resolved to see the manner of it a -little too, so, having made an acquaintance with an English officer -quartered at Ghent, I told him my intention, and he invited me to go -with him, and offered me his protection as a volunteer, that I should -quarter with him in his tent, and live as I would, and either carry -arms or not, as I saw occasion. - -The campaign was none of the hardest that had been, or was like to be; -so that I had the diversion of seeing the service, as it was proper to -call it, without much hazard. Indeed I did not see any considerable -action, for there was not much fighting that campaign. As to the merit -of the cause on either side, I knew nothing of it, nor had I suffered -any of the disputes about it to enter into my thoughts. The Prince of -Orange had been made king of England, and the English troops were all -on his side; and I heard a great deal of swearing and damning for King -William among the soldiers. But as for fighting, I observed the French -beat them several times, and particularly the regiment my friend -belonged to was surrounded in a village where they were posted, I knew -not upon what occasion, and all taken prisoners. But by great good hap, -I, being not in service, and so not in command, was strolled away that -day to see the country about; for it was my delight to see the strong -towns, and observe the beauty of their fortifications; and while I -diverted myself thus, I had the happy deliverance of not being taken by -the French for that time. - -When I came back I found the enemy possessed of the town, but as I was -no soldier they did me no harm, and having my French passport in my -pocket, they gave me leave to go to Nieuport, where I took the -packet-boat and came over to England, landing at Deal instead of Dover, -the weather forcing us into the Downs; and thus my short campaign -ended, and this was my second essay at the trade of soldiering. - -When I came to London I was very well received by my friend, to whom I -had consigned my effects, and I found myself in very good -circumstances; for all my goods, which, as above, by several ships, I -had consigned to him, came safe to hand; and my overseers that I had -left behind had shipped at several times four hundred hogsheads of -tobacco to my correspondent in my absence, being the product of my -plantation, or part of it, for the time of my being abroad; so that I -had above £1000 in my factor’s hands, two hundred hogsheads of tobacco -besides left in hand, not sold. - -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 thing in the -world to do; for I was grown out of everybody’s knowledge, 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 inquiring at the proper -place, had been rambling about the world, came to London, fell into his -own 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 -Jacque, who I called major, followed the like wicked trade, but was a -man of more gallantry and generosity; and having committed innumerable -depredations upon mankind, yet had 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, with 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 with so much success -that he 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 -generously, as they called it, without murdering or wounding, or -ill-using those they robbed;—I say, he had the honour to be broke 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 who I got the -knowledge of without letting them so much as guess at who I was or upon -what account I inquired. - -I was now at the height of my good fortune. Indeed I was in very good -circumstances, and being of a frugal temper from the beginning, I saved -things together as they came, and yet lived very well too. Particularly -I had the reputation of a very considerable merchant, and one that came -over vastly rich from Virginia; and as I frequently bought supplies for -my several families and plantations there as they wrote to me for them, -so I passed, I say, for a great merchant. - -I lived single, indeed, and in lodgings, but I began to be very well -known, and though I had subscribed my name only “Jack” to my particular -correspondent, yet the French, among whom I lived near a year, as I -have said, not understanding what Jack meant, called me Monsieur -Jacques and Colonel Jacques, and so gradually Colonel Jacque. So I was -called in the certificate of exchanging me with the other prisoner, so -that I went so also into Flanders; upon which, and seeing my -certificate of exchange, as above, I was called Colonel Jacques in -England by my friend who I called correspondent. And thus I passed for -a foreigner and a Frenchman, and I was infinitely fond of having -everybody take me for a Frenchman; and as I spoke French very well, -having learned it by continuing so long among them, so I went -constantly to the French church in London, and spoke French upon all -occasions as much as I could; and, to complete the appearance of it, I -got me a French servant to do my business—I mean as to my merchandise, -which only consisted in receiving and disposing of tobacco, of which I -had about five hundred to six hundred hogsheads a year from my own -plantations, and in supplying my people with necessaries 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 my 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 indeed. She went very well dressed, and -was a most beautiful person. She was well-bred, sung admirably fine, -and sometimes I could hear her very distinctly, the houses being over -against one another, in a narrow court, not much unlike Three King -Court in Lombard Street. - -This lady put herself so often in my way that I could not in good -manners forbear taking notice of her, and giving her 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 I lodged at, 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. - -I was a mere boy in the affair of love, and knew the least of what -belonged to a woman of 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. - -But I know not by what witchcraft in the conversation of this woman, -and her singling me out upon several occasions, I began to be ensnared, -I knew not how, or to what end; and was on a sudden so embarrassed in -my thoughts about her that, like a charm, she had me always in her -circle. If she had not been one of the subtlest women on earth, she -could never have brought me to have given myself the least trouble -about her, but I was drawn in by the magic of a genius capable to -deceive a more wary capacity than mine, and it was impossible to resist -her. - -She attacked me without ceasing, with the fineness 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 obstructions, 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 the bay several months. - -All this while nothing was more certain than that she intended to have -me, if she could catch; and it was indeed a kind of a catch, for she -managed all by art, and drew me in with the most resolute backwardness, -that it was almost impossible not to be deceived by it. On the other -hand, she did not appear to be a woman despicable, neither was she -poor, or in a condition that should require so much art to draw any man -in; but the cheat was really on my side; for she was unhappily told -that I was vastly rich, a great merchant, and that she would live like -a queen; which I was not at all instrumental in putting upon her, -neither did I know that she went upon that motive. - -She was too cunning to let me perceive how easy she was to be had; on -the contrary, she run all the hazards of bringing me to neglect her -entirely that one would think any woman in the world could do. And I -have wondered often since how that it was possible it should fail of -making me perfectly averse to her; for as I had a perfect indifferency -for the whole sex, and never till then entertained any notion of them, -they were no more to me than a picture hanging up against a wall. - -As we conversed freely together in public, so she took a great many -occasions to rally the men, and the weakness they were guilty of in -letting the women insult them as they did. She thought if the men had -not been fools, marriage had been only treaties of peace between two -neighbours, or alliances offensive or defensive, which must necessarily -have been carried on sometimes by interviews and personal treaties, but -oftener by ambassadors, agents, and emissaries on both sides; but that -the women had outwitted us, and brought us upon our knees, and made us -whine after them, and lower ourselves, so as we could never pretend to -gain our equality again. - -I told her I thought it was a decency to the ladies to give them the -advantage of denying a little, that they might be courted, and that I -should not like a woman the worse for denying me. “I expect it, madam,” -says I, “when I wait on you to-morrow;” intimating that I intended it. -“You shan’t be deceived, sir,” says she, “for I’ll deny now, before you -ask me the question.” - -I was dashed so effectually with so malicious, so devilish an answer -that I returned with a little sullenness, “I shan’t trespass upon you -yet, madam; and I shall be very careful not to offend you when I do.” - -“It is the greatest token of your respect, sir,” says she, “that you -are able to bestow upon me, and the most agreeable too, except one, -which I will not be out of hopes of obtaining of you in a little time.” - -“What is in my power to oblige you in, madam,” said I, “you may command -me in at any time, especially the way we are talking of.” This I spoke -still with a resentment very sincere. - -“It is only, sir, that you would promise to hate me with as much -sincerity as I will endeavour to make you a suitable return.” - -“I granted that request, madam, seven years before you asked it,” said -I, “for I heartily hated the whole sex, and scarce know how I came to -abate that good disposition in compliment to your conversation; but I -assure you that abatement is so little that it does no injury to your -proposal.” - -“There’s some mystery in that indeed, sir,” said she, “for I desire to -assist your aversion to women in a more particular manner, and hoped it -should never abate under my management.” We said a thousand ill-natured -things after this, but she outdid me, for she had such a stock of -bitterness upon her tongue as no woman ever went beyond her, and yet -all this while she was the pleasantest and most obliging creature in -every part of our conversation that could possibly be, and meant not -one word of what she said; no, not a word. But I must confess it no way -answered her end, for it really cooled all my thoughts of her, and I, -that had lived in so perfect an indifferency to the sex all my days, -was easily returned to that condition again, and began to grow very -cold and negligent in my usual respects to her upon all occasions. - -She soon found she had gone too far with me, and, in short, that she -was extremely out in her politics; that she had to do with one that was -not listed yet among the whining sort of lovers, and knew not what it -was to adore a mistress in order to abuse her; and that it was not with -me as it was with the usual sort of men in love, that are warmed by the -cold, and rise in their passions as the ladies fall in their returns. -On the contrary, she found that it was quite altered. I was civil to -her, as before, but not so forward. When I saw her at her -chamber-window, I did not throw mine open, as I usually had done, to -talk with her. When she sung in the parlour, where I could easily hear -it, I did not listen. When she visited at the house where I lodged, I -did not always come down; or if I did, I had business which obliged me -to go abroad; and yet all this while, when I did come into her company, -I was as intimate as ever. - -I could easily see that this madded her to the heart, and that she was -perplexed to the last degree, for she found that she had all her game -to play over again; that so absolute a reservedness, even to rudeness -and ill manners, was a little too much; but she was a mere -posture-mistress in love, and could put herself into what shapes she -pleased. - -She was too wise to show a fondness or forwardness that looked like -kindness. She knew that was the meanest and last step a woman can take, -and lays her under the foot of the man she pretends to. Fondness is not -the last favour indeed, but it is the last favour but one that a woman -can grant, and lays her almost as low; I mean, it lays her at the mercy -of the man she shows it to; but she was not come to that neither. This -chameleon put on another colour, turned, on a sudden, the gravest, -soberest, majestic madam, so that any one would have thought she was -advanced in age in one week from two-and-twenty to fifty, and this she -carried on with so much government of herself that it did not in the -least look like art; but if it was a representation of nature only, it -was so like nature itself that nobody living can be able to -distinguish. She sung very often in her parlour, as well by herself as -with two young ladies who came often to see her. I could see by their -books, and her guitar in her hand, that she was singing; but she never -opened the window, as she was wont to do. Upon my coming to my window, -she kept her own always shut; or if it was open, she would be sitting -at work, and not look up, it may be, once in half-an-hour. - -If she saw me by accident all this while, she would smile, and speak as -cheerfully as ever; but it was but a word or two, and so make her -honours and be gone; so that, in a word, we conversed just as we did -after I had been there a week. - -She tired me quite out at this work; for though I began the -strangeness, indeed, yet I did not design the carrying it on so far. -But she held it to the last, just in the same manner as she began it. -She came to the house where I lodged as usual, and we were often -together, supped together, played at cards together, danced together; -for in France I accomplished myself with everything that was needful to -make me what I believed myself to be even from a boy—I mean a -gentleman. I say, we conversed together, as above, but she was so -perfectly another thing to what she used to be in every part of her -conversation that it presently occurred to me that her former behaviour -was a kind of a rant or fit; that either it was the effect of some -extraordinary levity that had come upon her, or that it was done to -mimic the coquets of the town, believing it might take with me, who she -thought was a Frenchman, and that it was what I loved. But her new -gravity was her real natural temper, and indeed it became her so much -better, or, as I should say, she acted it so well, that it really -brought me back to have, not as much only, but more mind to her than -ever I had before. - -However, it was a great while before I discovered myself, and I stayed -indeed to find out, if possible, whether this change was real or -counterfeit; for I could not easily believe it was possible the gay -humour she used to appear in could be a counterfeit. It was not, -therefore, till a year and almost a quarter that I came to any -resolution in my thoughts about her, when, on a mere accident, we came -to a little conversation together. - -She came to visit at our house as usual, and it happened all the ladies -were gone abroad; but, as it fell out, I was in the passage or entry of -the house, going towards the stairs, when she knocked at the door; so, -stepping back, I opened the door, and she, without any ceremony, came -in, and ran forward into the parlour, supposing the women had been -there. I went in after her, as I could do no less, because she did not -know that the family was abroad. - -Upon my coming in she asked for the ladies. I told her I hoped she came -to visit me now, for that the ladies were all gone abroad. “Are they?” -said she, as if surprised—though I understood afterwards she knew it -before, as also that I was at home—and then rises up to be gone. “No, -madam,” said I, “pray do not go; when ladies come to visit me, I do not -use to tire them of my company so soon.” “That’s as ill-natured,” says -she, “as you could possibly talk. Pray don’t pretend I came to visit -you. I am satisfied who I came to visit, and satisfied that you know -it.” “Yes, madam,” said I; “but if I happen to be all of the family -that’s left at home, then you came to visit me.” - - -Jacque and lady -COLONEL JACQUE AND THE LADY - - -“I never receive visits from those that I hate,” says she. - -“You have me there, indeed,” said I; “but you never gave me leave to -tell you why I hated you. I hated you because you would never give me -an opportunity to tell you I loved you. Sure, you took me for some -frightful creature, that you would never come near enough so much as to -let me whisper to you that I love you.” - -“I never care to hear anything so disagreeable,” says she, “though it -be spoken ever so softly.” - -We rallied thus for an hour. In short, she showed the abundance of her -wit, and I an abundant deficiency of mine; for though three or four -times she provoked me to the last degree, so that once I was going to -tell her I had enough of her company, and, if she pleased I would wait -upon her to the door, yet she had always so much witchcraft on her -tongue that she brought herself off again; till, to make the story -short, we came at last to talk seriously on both sides about matrimony, -and she heard me freely propose it, and answered me directly upon many -occasions. For example, she told me I would carry her away to France or -to Virginia, and that she could not think of leaving England, her -native country. I told her I hoped she did not take me for a kidnapper. -(By the way, I did not tell her how I had been kidnapped myself.) She -said no; but the consequence of my affairs, which were, it seems, -mostly abroad, might oblige me to go, and she could never think of -marrying any man that she could not be content to go all over the world -with, if he had occasion to go himself. This was handsomely expressed -indeed. I made her easy on that point, and thus we began the grand -parley; which indeed she drew me into with the utmost art and subtilty, -such as was peculiar to herself, but was infinitely her advantage in -our treating of marriage; for she made me effectually court her, though -at the same time in her design she courted me with the utmost skill, -and such skill it was that her design was perfectly impenetrable to the -last moment. - -In short, we came nearer and nearer every time we met; and after one -casual visit more, in which I had the mighty favour of talking with her -alone, I then waited on her every day at her own house, or lodgings -rather, and so we set about the work to a purpose, and in about a month -we gave the world the slip, and were privately married, to avoid -ceremony and the public inconveniency of a wedding. - -We soon found a house proper for our dwelling, and so went to -housekeeping. We had not been long together but I found that gay temper -of my wife returned, and she threw off the mask of her gravity and good -conduct, that I had so long fancied was her mere natural disposition; -and now, having no more occasion for disguises, she resolved to seem -nothing but what really she was, a wild, untamed colt, perfectly loose, -and careless to conceal any part, no, not the worst of her conduct. - -She carried on this air of levity to such an excess that I could not -but be dissatisfied at the expense of it; for she kept company that I -did not like, lived beyond what I could support, and sometimes lost at -play more than I cared to pay. Upon which, one day, I took occasion to -mention it, but lightly; and said to her, by way of raillery, that we -lived merrily, for as long as it would last. She turned short upon me, -“What do you mean?” says she. “Why, you don’t pretend to be uneasy, do -ye?” “No, no, madam, not I, by no means; it is no business of mine, you -know,” said I, “to inquire what my wife spends, or whether she spends -more than I can afford, or less. I only desire the favour to know, as -near as you can guess, how long you will please to take to despatch me, -for I would not be too long a-dying.” - -“I do not know what you talk of,” says she. “You may die as leisurely, -or as hastily, as you please, when your time comes; I a’nt a-going to -kill you, as I know of.” - -“But you are a-going to starve me, madam,” said I, “and hunger is as -leisurely a death as breaking upon the wheel.” - -“I starve you! Why, are not you a great Virginia merchant, and did not -I bring you £1500? What would you have? Sure, you can maintain a wife -out of that, can’t you?” - -“Yes, madam,” says I, “I could maintain a wife, but not a gamester, -though you had brought me £1500 a year; no estate is big enough for a -box and dice.” - -She took fire at that, and flew out in a passion, and after a great -many bitter words, told me, in short, that she saw no occasion to alter -her conduct; and as for my not maintaining her, when I could not -maintain her longer she would find some way or other to maintain -herself. - -Some time after the first rattle of this kind, she vouchsafed to let me -know that she was pleased to be with child. I was at first glad of it, -in hopes it would help to abate her madness; but it was all one, and -her being with child only added to the rest, for she made such -preparations for her lying-in, and the other appendixes of a child’s -being born, that, in short, I found she would be downright distracted. -And I took the liberty to tell her one day that she would soon bring -herself and me to destruction, and entreated her to consider that such -figures as those were quite above us, and out of our circle; and, in -short, that I neither could nor would allow such expenses; that, at -this rate, two or three children would effectually ruin me, and that I -desired her to consider what she was doing. - -She told me, with an air of disdain, that it was none of her business -to consider anything of that matter; that if I could not allow it, she -would allow it herself, and I might do my worst. - -I begged her to consider things for all that, and not drive me to -extremities; that I married her to love and cherish her, and use her as -a good wife ought to be used, but not to be ruined and undone by her. -In a word, nothing could mollify her, nor any argument persuade her to -moderation, but withal she took it so heinously that I should pretend -to restrain her, that she told me in so many words she would drop her -burthen with me, and then, if I did not like it, she would take care of -herself; she would not live with me an hour, for she would not be -restrained, not she; and talked a long while at that rate. - -I told her, as to her child, which she called her burthen, it should be -no burthen to me; as to the rest, she might do as she pleased; it -might, however, do me this favour, that I should have no more lyings in -at the rate of £136 at a time, as I found she intended it should be -now. She told me she could not tell that; if she had no more by me, she -hoped she should by somebody else. “Say you so, madam?” said I. “Then -they that get them shall keep them.” She did not know that neither, she -said, and so turned it off jeering, and, as it were, laughing at me. - -This last discourse nettled me, I must confess, and the more because I -had a great deal of it and very often, till, in short, we began at -length to enter into a friendly treaty about parting. - -Nothing could be more criminal than the several discourses we had upon -this subject. She demanded a separate maintenance, and, in particular, -at the rate of £300 a year, and I demanded security of her that she -should not run me in debt. She demanded the keeping of the child, with -an allowance of £100 a year for that, and I demanded that I should be -secured from being charged for keeping any she might have by somebody -else, as she had threatened me. - -In the interval, and during these contests, she dropped her burthen (as -she called it), and brought me a son, a very fine child. - -She was content during her lying-in to abate a little, though it was -but a very little indeed, of the great expense she had intended, and, -with some difficulty and persuasion, was content with a suit of -child-bed linen of £15 instead of one she had intended of threescore; -and this she magnified as a particular testimony of her condescension -and a yielding to my avaricious temper, as she called it. But after she -was up again, it was the same thing, and she went on with her humour to -that degree that in a little time she began to carry it on to other -excesses, and to have a sort of fellows come to visit her, which I did -not like, and once, in particular, stayed abroad all night. The next -day, when she came home, she began to cry out first; told me where (as -she said) she lay, and that the occasion was a christening, where the -company had a feast and stayed too late; that, if I was dissatisfied, I -might inform myself there of all the particulars, where she lay, and -the like. I told her coldly, “Madam, you do well to suggest my being -dissatisfied, for you may be sure I am, and you could expect no other; -that as to going to your haunts to inform myself, that is not my -business: it is your business to bring testimonies of your behaviour, -and to prove where you lay, and in what company. It is enough to me -that you lay out of your own house, without your husband’s knowledge or -consent, and before you and I converse again I must have some -satisfaction of the particulars.” - -She answered, with all her heart; she was as in different as I; and -since I took so ill her lying at a friend’s house on an extraordinary -occasion, she gave me to understand that it was what she would have me -expect, and what she would have the liberty to do when she thought fit. - -“Well, madam,” said I, “if I must expect what I cannot allow, you must -expect I shall shut my doors by day against those that keep out of them -at night.” - -She would try me, she said, very speedily; and if I shut the doors -against her, she would find a way to make me open them. - -“Well, madam,” says I, “you threaten me hard, but I would advise you to -consider before you take such measures, for I shall be as good as my -word.” However, it was not long that we could live together upon these -terms; for I found very quickly what company she kept, and that she -took a course which I ought not to bear. So I began the separation -first, and refused her my bed. We had indeed refrained all converse as -husband and wife for about two months before, for I told her very -plainly I would father no brats that were not of my own getting; and -matters coming thus gradually to an extremity, too great to continue as -it was, she went off one afternoon, and left me a line in writing, -signifying that affairs had come to such a pass between us that she did -not think fit to give me the opportunity of shutting her out of doors, -and that therefore she had retired herself to such a place, naming a -relation of her own, as scandalous as herself; and that she hoped I -would not give her the trouble to sue for her support in the ordinary -course of law, but that, as her occasions required, she should draw -bills upon me, which she expected I would not refuse. - -I was extremely satisfied with this proceeding, and took care to let -her hear of it, though I gave no answer at all to her letter; and as I -had taken care before that whenever she played such a prank as this, -she should not be able to carry much with her, so, after she was gone, -I immediately broke up housekeeping, sold my furniture by public -outcry, and in it everything in particular that was her own, and set a -bill upon my door, giving her to understand by it that she had passed -the Rubicon, that as she had taken such a step of her own accord, so -there was no room left her ever to think of coming back again. - -This was what any one may believe I should not have done if I had seen -any room for a reformation; but she had given me such testimonies of a -mind alienated from her husband, in particular espousing her own -unsufferable levity, that there was indeed no possibility of our coming -afterwards to any terms again. - -However, I kept a couple of trusty agents so near her that I failed not -to have a full account of her conduct, though I never let her know -anything of me but that I was gone over to France. As to her bills -which she said she would draw upon me, she was as good as her word in -drawing one of £30, which I refused to accept, and never gave her leave -to trouble me with another. - -It is true, and I must acknowledge it, that all this was a very -melancholy scene of life to me, and but that she took care by carrying -herself to the last degree provoking, and continually to insult me, I -could never have gone on to the parting with so much resolution; for I -really loved her very sincerely, and could have been anything but a -beggar and a cuckold with her, but those were intolerable to me, -especially as they were put upon me with so much insult and rudeness. - -But my wife carried it at last to a point that made all things light -and easy to me, for after above a year’s separation, and keeping such -company as she thought fit, she was pleased to be with child again, in -which she had, however, so much honesty as not to pretend that she had -had anything to do with me. What a wretched life she led after this, -and how she brought herself to the utmost extremity of misery and -distress, I may speak of hereafter. - -I had found, soon after our parting, that I had a great deal of reason -to put myself into a posture at first not to be imposed upon by her; -for I found very quickly that she had run herself into debt in several -places very considerably, and that it was upon a supposition that I was -liable to those debts. But I was gone, and it was absolutely necessary -I should do so; upon which she found herself obliged, out of her wicked -gains, however, whatever she made of them, to discharge most of those -debts herself. - -As soon as she was delivered of her child, in which my intelligence was -so good that I had gotten sufficient proof of it, I sued her in the -ecclesiastical court, in order to obtain a divorce; and as she found it -impossible to avoid it, so she declined the defence, and I gained a -legal decree, or what they call it, of divorce, in the usual time of -such process; and now I thought myself a free man once again, and began -to be sick of wedlock with all my heart. - -I lived retired, because I knew she had contracted debts which I should -be obliged to pay, and I was resolved to be gone out of her reach with -what speed I could. But it was necessary that I should stay till the -Virginia fleet came in, because I looked for at least three hundred -hogsheads of tobacco from thence, which I knew would heal all my -breaches; for indeed the extravagance of three years with this lady had -sunk me most effectually, even far beyond her own fortune, which was -considerable, though not quite £1500, as she had called it. - -But all the mischiefs I met with on account of this match were not over -yet; for when I had been parted with her about three months, and had -refused to accept her bill of £30, which I mentioned above, though I -was removed from my first lodgings too, and thought I had effectually -secured myself from being found out, yet there came a gentleman well -dressed to my lodgings one day, and was let in before I knew of it, or -else I should scarce have admitted him. - -He was led into a parlour, and I came down to him in my gown and -slippers. When I came into the room he called me as familiarly by my -name as if he had known me twenty years, and pulling out a pocket-book, -he shows me a bill upon me, drawn by my wife, which was the same bill -for £30 that I had refused before. - -“Sir,” says I, “this bill has been presented before, and I gave my -answer to it then.” - -“Answer, sir!” says he, with a kind of jeering, taunting air. “I do not -understand what you mean by an answer; it is not a question, sir; it is -a bill to be paid.” - -“Well, sir,” says I, “it is a bill; I know that, and I gave my answer -to it before.” - -“Sir, sir,” says he very saucily, “your answer! There is no answer to a -bill; it must be paid. Bills are to be paid, not to be answered. They -say you are a merchant, sir; merchants always pay their bills.” - -I began to be angry too a little, but I did not like my man, for I -found he began to be quarrelsome. However, I said, “Sir, I perceive you -are not much used to presenting bills. Sir, a bill is always first -presented, and presenting is a question; it is asking if I will accept -or pay the bill, and then whether I say yes or no, it is an answer one -way or other. After ’tis accepted, it indeed requires no more answer -but payment when ’tis due. If you please to inform yourself, this is -the usage which all merchants or tradesmen of any kind who have bills -drawn upon them act by.” - -“Well, sir,” says he, “and what then? What is this to the paying me the -£30?” - -“Why, sir,” says I, “it is this to it, that I told the person that -brought it I should not pay it.” - -“Not pay it!” says he. “But you shall pay it; ay, ay, you will pay it.” - -“She that draws it has no reason to draw any bills upon me, I am sure,” -said I; “and I shall pay no bills she draws, I assure you.” - -Upon this he turns short upon me: “Sir, she that draws this bill is a -person of too much honour to draw any bill without reason, and ’tis an -affront to say so of her, and I shall expect satisfaction of you for -that by itself. But first the bill, sir—the bill; you must pay the -bill, sir.” - -I returned as short: “Sir, I affront nobody. I know the person as well -as you, I hope; and what I have said of her is no affront. She can have -no reason to draw bills upon me, for I owe her nothing.” - -I omit intermingling the oaths he laced his speech with, as too foul -for my paper. But he told me he would make me know she had friends to -stand by her, that I had abused her, and he would let me know it, and -do her justice. But first I must pay his bill. - -I answered, in short, I would not pay the bill, nor any bills she -should draw. - -With that he steps to the door and shuts it, and swore by G—d he would -make me pay the bill before we parted, and laid his hand upon his -sword, but did not draw it out. - -I confess I was frighted to the last degree, for I had no sword; and if -I had, I must own that, though I had learned a great many good things -in France to make me look like a gentleman, I had forgot the main -article of learning how to use a sword, a thing so universally -practised there; and, to say more, I had been perfectly unacquainted -with quarrels of this nature; so that I was perfectly surprised when he -shut the door, and knew not what to say or do. - -However, as it happened, the people of the house, hearing us pretty -loud, came near the door, and made a noise in the entry to let me know -they were at hand; and one of the servants, going to open the door, and -finding it locked, called out to me, “Sir, for God’s sake open the -door! What is the matter? Shall we fetch a constable?” I made no -answer, but it gave me courage; so I sat down composed in one of the -chairs, and said to him, “Sir, this is not the way to make me pay the -bill; you had much better be easy, and take your satisfaction another -way.” - -He understood me of fighting, which, upon my word, was not in my -thoughts; but I meant that he had better take his course at law. - -“With all my heart,” says he; “they say you are a gentleman, and they -call you colonel. Now, if you are a gentleman, I accept your challenge, -sir; and if you will walk out with me, I will take it for full payment -of the bill, and will decide it as gentlemen ought to do.” - -“I challenge you, sir!” said I. “Not I; I made no challenge,” I said. -“This is not the way to make me pay a bill that I have not accepted; -that is, that you had better seek your satisfaction at law.” - -“Law!” says he; “law! Gentlemen’s law is my law. In short, sir, you -shall pay me or fight me.” And then, as if he had mistaken, he turns -short upon me, “Nay,” says he, “you shall both fight me and pay me, for -I will maintain her honour;” and in saying this he bestowed about six -or seven “damme’s” and oaths, by way of parenthesis. - -This interval delivered me effectually, for just at the words “fight -me, for I will maintain her honour,” the maid had brought in a -constable, with three or four neighbours to assist him. - -He heard them come in, and began to be a little in a rage, and asked me -if I intended to mob him instead of paying; and laying his hand on his -sword, told me, if any man offered to break in upon him, he would run -me through the first moment, that he might have the fewer to deal with -afterwards. - -I told him he knew I had called for no help (believing he could not be -in earnest in what he had said), and that, if anybody attempted to come -in upon us, it was to prevent the mischief he threatened, and which he -might see I had no weapons to resist. - -Upon this the constable called, and charged us both in the king’s name -to open the door. I was sitting in a chair, and offered to rise. He -made a motion as if he would draw, upon which I sat down again, and the -door not being opened, the constable set his foot against it and came -in. - -“Well, sir,” says my gentleman, “and what now? What’s your business -here?” “Nay, sir,” says the constable, “you see my business. I am a -peace-officer; all I have to do is to keep the peace, and I find the -people of the house frightened for fear of mischief between you, and -they have fetched me to prevent it.” “What mischief have they supposed -you should find?” says he. “I suppose,” says the constable, “they were -afraid you should fight.” “That’s because they did not know this fellow -here. He never fights. They call him colonel,” says he. “I suppose he -might be born a colonel, for I dare say he was born a coward; he never -fights; he dares not see a man. If he would have fought, he would have -walked out with me, but he scorns to be brave; they would never have -talked to you of fighting if they had known him. I tell you, Mr. -Constable, he is a coward, and a coward is a rascal;” and with that he -came to me, and stroked his finger down my nose pretty hard, and -laughed and mocked most horribly, as if I was a coward. Now, for aught -I knew, it might be true, but I was now what they call a coward made -desperate, which is one of the worst of men in the world to encounter -with; for, being in a fury, I threw my head in his face, and closing -with him, threw him fairly on his back by mere strength; and had not -the constable stepped in and taken me off, I had certainly stamped him -to death with my feet, for my blood was now all in a flame, and the -people of the house were frighted now as much the other way, lest I -should kill him, though I had no weapon at all in my hand. - -The constable too reproved me in his turn; but I said to him, “Mr. -Constable, do you not think I am sufficiently provoked? Can any man -bear such things as these? I desire to know who this man is and who -sent him hither.” - -“I am,” says he, “a gentleman, and come with a bill to him for money, -and he refuses to pay it.” “Well,” says the constable very prudently, -“that is none of my business; I am no justice of the peace to hear the -cause. Be that among yourselves, but keep your hands off one another, -and that is as much as I desire; and therefore, sir,” says the -constable to him, “if I may advise you, seeing he will not pay the -bill, and that must be decided between you as the law directs, I would -have you leave it for the present and go quietly away.” - -He made many impertinent harangues about the bill, and insisted that it -was drawn by my own wife. I said angrily, “Then it was drawn by a -whore.” He bullied me upon that, told me I durst not tell him so -anywhere else; so I answered, “I would very soon publish her for a -whore to all the world, and cry her down;” and thus we scolded for near -half-an-hour, for I took courage when the constable was there, for I -knew that he would keep us from fighting, which indeed I had no mind -to, and so at length I got rid of him. - -I was heartily vexed at this rencounter, and the more because I had -been found out in my lodging, which I thought I had effectually -concealed. However, I resolved to remove the next day, and in the -meantime I kept within doors all that day till the evening, and then I -went out in order not to return thither any more. - -Being come out into Gracechurch Street, I observed a man follow me, -with one of his legs tied up in a string, and hopping along with the -other, and two crutches; he begged for a farthing, but I inclining not -to give him anything, the fellow followed me still, till I came to a -court, when I answered hastily to him, “I have nothing for you! Pray do -not be so troublesome!” with which words he knocked me down with one of -his crutches. - -Being stunned with the blow, I knew nothing what was done to me -afterwards; but coming to myself again, I found I was wounded very -frightfully in several places, and that among the rest my nose was slit -upwards, one of my ears cut almost off, and a great cut with a sword on -the side of the forehead; also a stab into the body, though not -dangerous. - -Who had been near me, or struck me, besides the cripple that struck me -with his crutch, I knew not, nor do I know to this hour; but I was -terribly wounded, and lay bleeding on the ground some time, till, -coming to myself, I got strength to cry out for help, and people coming -about me, I got some hands to carry me to my lodging, where I lay by it -more than two months before I was well enough to go out of doors; and -when I did go out, I had reason to believe that I was waited for by -some rogues, who watched an opportunity to repeat the injury I had met -with before. - -This made me very uneasy, and I resolved to get myself out of danger if -possible, and to go over to France, or home, as I called it, to -Virginia, so to be out of the way of villains and assassinations; for -every time I stirred out here I thought I went in danger of my life; -and therefore, as before, I went out at night, thinking to be -concealed, so now I never went out but in open day, that I might be -safe, and never without one or two servants to be my lifeguard. - -But I must do my wife a piece of justice here too, and that was, that, -hearing what had befallen me, she wrote me a letter, in which she -treated me more decently than she had been wont to do. She said she was -very sorry to hear how I had been used, and the rather because she -understood it was on presenting her bill to me. She said she hoped I -could not, in my worst dispositions, think so hardly of her as to -believe it was done by her knowledge or consent, much less by her order -or direction; that she abhorred such things, and protested, if she had -the least knowledge or so much as a guess at the villains concerned, -she would discover them to me. She let me know the person’s name to -whom she gave the bill, and where he lived, and left it to me to oblige -him to discover the person who had brought it and used me so ill, and -wished I might find him and bring him to justice, and have him punished -with the utmost severity of the law. - -I took this so kindly of my wife that I think in my conscience, had she -come after it herself to see how I did, I had certainly taken her -again; but she satisfied herself with the civility of another letter, -and desiring me to let her know as often as I could how I was; adding -that it would be infinitely to her satisfaction to hear I was recovered -of the hurt I had received, and that he was hanged at Tyburn who had -done it. - -She used some expressions signifying, as I understood them, her -affliction at our parting and her continued respect for me; but did not -make any motion towards returning. Then she used some arguments to move -me to pay her bills, intimating that she had brought me a large -fortune, and now had nothing to subsist on, which was very severe. - -I wrote her an answer to this letter, though I had not to the other, -letting her know how I had been used; that I was satisfied, upon her -letter, that she had no hand in it; that it was not in her nature to -treat me so, who had never injured her, used any violence with her, or -been the cause or desire of our parting; that, as to her bill, she -could not but know how much her expensive way of living had straitened -and reduced me, and would, if continued, have ruined me; that she had -in less than three years spent more than as much as she brought to me, -and would not abate her expensive way, though calmly entreated by me, -with protestations that I could not support so great an expense, but -chose rather to break up her family and go from me than to restrain -herself to reasonable limits; though I used no violence with her, but -entreaties and earnest persuasions, backed with good reason; letting -her know how my estate was, and convincing her that it must reduce us -to poverty at least; that, however, if she would recall her bill, I -would send her £30, which was the sum mentioned in her bill, and, -according to my ability, would not let her want, if she pleased to live -within due bounds; but then I let her know also that I had a very bad -account of her conduct, and that she kept company with a scandalous -fellow, who I named to her; that I was loth to believe such things of -her, but that, to put an entire end to the report and restore her -reputation, I let her know that still, after all I heard, if she would -resolve to live without restraints, within the reasonable bounds of my -capacity, and treat me with the same kindness, affection, and -tenderness as I always had treated her, and ever would, I was willing -to receive her again, and would forget all that was past; but that, if -she declined me now, it would be forever; for if she did not accept my -offer, I was resolved to stay here no longer, where I had been so -ill-treated on many occasions, but was preparing to go into my own -country, where I would spend my days in quiet, and in a retreat from -the world. - -She did not give such an answer to this as I expected; for though she -thanked me for the £30, yet she insisted upon her justification in all -other points; and though she did not refuse to return to me, yet she -did not say she accepted it, and, in short, said little or nothing to -it, only a kind of claim to a reparation of her injured reputation, and -the like. - -This gave me some surprise at first, for I thought, indeed, any woman -in her circumstances would have been very willing to have put an end to -all her miseries, and to the reproach which was upon her, by a -reconciliation, especially considering she subsisted at that time but -very meanly. But there was a particular reason which prevented her -return, and which she could not plead to in her letter, yet was a good -reason against accepting an offer which she would otherwise have been -glad of; and this was, that, as I have mentioned above, she had fallen -into bad company, and had prostituted her virtue to some of her -flatterers, and, in short, was with child; so that she durst not -venture to accept my offer. - -However, as I observed above, she did not absolutely refuse it, -intending (as I understood afterward) to keep the treaty of it on foot -till she could drop her burthen, as she had called it before, and -having been delivered privately, have accepted my proposal afterward; -and, indeed, this was the most prudent step she could take, or, as we -may say, the only step she had left to take. But I was too many for her -here too. My intelligence about her was too good for her to conceal -such an affair from me, unless she had gone away before she was visibly -big, and unless she had gone farther off too than she did; for I had an -account to a tittle of the time when, and place where, and the creature -of which she was delivered; and then my offers of taking her again were -at an end, though she wrote me several very penitent letters, -acknowledging her crime and begging me to forgive her. But my spirit -was above all that now, nor could I ever bear the thoughts of her after -that, but pursued a divorce, and accordingly obtained it, as I have -mentioned already. - -Things being at this pass, I resolved, as I have observed before, to go -over to France, after I had received my effects from Virginia; and -accordingly I came to Dunkirk in the year ——, and here I fell into -company with some Irish officers of the regiment of Dillon, who by -little and little entered me into the army, and by the help of -Lieutenant-General ——, an Irishman, and some money, I obtained a -company in his regiment, and so went into the army directly. - -I was exceeding pleased with my new circumstances, and now I used to -say to myself I was come to what I was born to, and that I had never -till now lived the life of a gentleman. - -Our regiment, after I had been some time in it, was commanded into -Italy, and one of the most considerable actions that I was in was the -famous attack upon Cremona, in the Milanese, where the Germans, being -privately and by treachery let into the town in the night through a -kind of common sewer, surprised the town and got possession of the -greatest part of it, surprising the mareschal, Duke de Villeroi, and -taking him prisoner as he came out of his quarters, and beating the few -French troops which were left in the citadel; but were in the middle of -their victory so boldly and resolutely attacked by two Irish regiments -who were quartered in the street leading to the river Po, and who kept -possession of the water-gate, or Po gate, of the town, by which the -German reinforcements should have come in, that, after a most desperate -fight, the Germans had their victory wrung out of their hands, and not -being able to break through us to let in their friends, were obliged at -length to quit the town again, to the eternal honour of those Irish -regiments, and indeed of their whole nation, and for which we had a -very handsome compliment from the king of France. - -I now had the satisfaction of knowing, and that for the first time too, -that I was not that cowardly, low-spirited wretch that I was when the -fellow bullied me in my lodgings about the bill of £30. Had he attacked -me now, though in the very same condition, I should, naked and unarmed -as I was, have flown in the face of him and trampled him under my feet. -But men never know themselves till they are tried, and courage is -acquired by time and experience of things. - -Philip de Comines tells us that, after the battle of Monteleri, the -Count de Charolois, who till then had an utter aversion to the war, and -abhorred it and everything that belonged to it, was so changed by the -glory he obtained in that action, and by the flattery of those about -him, that afterwards the army was his mistress and the fatigues of the -war his chief delight. It is too great an example for me to bring in my -own case, but so it was, that they flattered me so with my bravery, as -they called it, on the occasion of this action, that I fancied myself -brave, whether I was so or not, and the pride of it made me bold and -daring to the last degree on all occasions. But what added to it was, -that somebody gave a particular account to the Court of my being -instrumental to the saving the city, and the whole Cremonese, by my -extraordinary defence of the Po gate, and by my managing that defence -after the lieutenant-colonel who commanded the party where I was posted -was killed; upon which the king sent me a public testimony of his -accepting my service, and sent me a brevet to be lieutenant-colonel, -and the next courier brought me actually a commission for -lieutenant-colonel in the regiment of ——. - -I was in several skirmishes and petty encounters before this, by which -I gained the reputation of a good officer; but I happened to be in some -particular posts too, by which I got somewhat that I liked much better, -and that was a good deal of money. - -Our regiment was sent from France to Italy by sea. We embarked at -Toulon, and landed at Savona, in the territory of Genoa, and marched -from thence to the duchy of Milan. At the first town we were sent to -take possession of, which was Alexandria, the citizens rose upon our -men in a most furious manner, and drove the whole garrison, which -consisted of eight hundred men—that is, French and soldiers in the -French service—quite out of the town. - -I was quartered in a burgher’s house, just by one of the ports, with -eight of my men and a servant, where, calling a short council with my -men, we were resolved to maintain the house we were in, whatever it -cost, till we received orders to quit it from the commanding officer. -Upon this, when I saw our men could not stand their ground in the -street, being pressed hard by the citizens, I turned out of doors all -the family, and kept the house as a castle, which I was governor in; -and as the house joined to the city gate, I resolved to maintain it, so -as to be the last that should quit the place, my own retreat being -secured by being so near the port. - -Having thus emptied the house of the inhabitants, we made no scruple of -filling our pockets with whatever we could find there. In a word, we -left nothing we could carry away, among which it came to my lot to dip -into the burgher’s cabinet whose house it was where we were, and there -I took about the quantity of two hundred pistoles in money and plate, -and other things of value. There was great complaint made to Prince -Vaudemont, who was then governor of the Milanese, of this violence. But -as the repulse the citizens gave us was contrary to his order, and to -the general design of the prince, who was then wholly in the interest -of King Philip, the citizens could obtain nothing; and I found that if -we had plundered the whole city it would have been the same thing; for -the governor had orders to take our regiment in, and it was an act of -open rebellion to resist us as they did. However, we had orders not to -fire upon the burghers, unless constrained to it by evident necessity, -and we rather chose to quit the place as we did than dispute it with a -desperate body of fellows, who wanted no advantage of us, except only -that of having possession of two bastions and one port of our retreat. -First, they were treble our number; for the burghers, being joined by -seven companies of the regular troops, made up above sixteen hundred -men, besides rabble, which was many more, whereas we were about eight -hundred in all; they also had the citadel and several pieces of cannon, -so that we could have made nothing of it if we had attacked them. But -they submitted three or four days after to other forces, the soldiers -within turning upon them and taking the citadel from them. - -After this we lay still in quarters eight months. For the prince, -having secured the whole Milanese for King Philip, and no enemy -appearing for some time, had nothing to do but to receive the auxiliary -troops of France, and as they came, extend himself every way as he -could, in order to keep the imperialists (who were preparing to fall -into Italy with a great army) as much at a distance as possible, which -he did by taking possession of the city of Mantua, and of most of the -towns on that side, as far as the Lake De la Guarda and the river -Adige. - -We lay in Mantua some time, but were afterwards drawn out by order of -the Count de Tesse (afterwards Marshal of France), to form the French -army, till the arrival of the Duke de Vendôme, who was to command in -chief. Here we had a severe campaign, _anno_ 1701, having Prince Eugene -of Savoy and an army of forty thousand Germans, all old soldiers, to -deal with; and though the French army was more numerous than the enemy -by twenty-five thousand men, yet, being on the defensive, and having so -many posts to cover, not knowing exactly where the Prince of Savoy, who -commanded the imperial army, would attack us, it obliged the French to -keep their troops so divided and so remote from one another that the -Germans pushed on their design with great success, as the histories of -those times more fully relate. - -I was at the action of Carpi, July 1701, where we were worsted by the -Germans; indeed, were forced to quit our encampment and give up to the -prince the whole river Adige, and where our regiment sustained some -loss. But the enemies got little by us, and Monsieur Catinat, who -commanded at that time, drew up in order of battle the next day in -sight of the German army, and gave them a defiance; but they would not -stir, though we offered them battle two days together; for, having -gained the passage over the Adige by our quitting Rivoli, which was -then useless to us, their business was done. - -Finding they declined a decisive action, our generals pressed them in -their quarters, and made them fight for every inch of ground they -gained; and at length, in the September following, we attacked them in -their intrenched posts of Chiar. Here we broke into the very heart of -their camp, where we made a very terrible slaughter. But I know not by -what mistake among our generals, or defect in the execution of their -orders, the brigade of Normandy and our Irish Brigade, who had so -bravely entered the German intrenchments, were not supported as we -should have been, so that we were obliged to sustain the shock of the -whole German army, and at last to quit the advantage we had gained, and -that not without loss; but, being timely reinforced by a great body of -horse, the enemy were in their turn beaten off too, and driven back -into their very camp. The Germans boasted of having a great victory -here, and indeed, in repulsing us after we had gained their camp, they -had the advantage. But had Monsieur de Tesse succoured us in time, as -old Catinat said he ought to have done, with twelve thousand foot which -he had with him, that day’s action had put an end to the war, and -Prince Eugene must have been glad to have gone back to Germany in more -haste than he came, if, perhaps, we had not cut him short by the way. - -But the fate of things went another way, and the Germans continued all -that campaign to push forward and advance one post after another, till -they beat us quite out of the Milanese. - -The latter part of this campaign we made only a party war, the French, -according to their volatile temper, being every day abroad, either -foraging or surprising the enemy’s foragers, plundering or -circumventing the plunders of the other side. But they very often came -short home, for the Germans had the better of them on several -occasions; and indeed so many lost their lives upon these petty -encounters that I think, including those who died of distempers gotten -by hard service and bad quarters, lying in the field even till the -middle of December among rivers and bogs, in a country so full of -canals and rivers as that part of Italy is known to be; I say, we lost -more men, and so did the enemy also, than would have been lost in a -general decisive battle. - -The Duke of Savoy, to give him his due, pressed earnestly to put it to -a day and come to a battle with Prince Eugene; but the Duke de -Villeroi, Monsieur Catinat, and the Count de Tesse were all against it; -and the principal reason was, that they knew the weakness of the -troops, who had suffered so much on so many occasions that they were in -no condition to give battle to the Germans. So after, as I say, about -three months’ harassing one another with parties, we went into winter -quarters. - -Before we marched out of the field, our regiment, with a detachment of -dragoons of six hundred, and about two hundred and fifty horse, went -out with a design to intercept Prince Commercy, a general of note under -Prince Eugene of Savoy. The detachment was intended to be only horse -and dragoons; but because it was the imperialists’ good luck to beat -many of our parties, and, as was given out, many more than we beat of -theirs, and because it was believed that the prince, who was an officer -of good note among them, would not go abroad but in very good company, -the Irish regiment of foot was ordered to be added, that, if possible, -they might meet with their match. - -I was commanded, about two hours before, to pass about two hundred foot -and fifty dragoons at a small wood where our general had intelligence -that prince would post some men to secure his passage, which -accordingly I did. But Count Tesse, not thinking our party strong -enough, had marched himself, with a thousand horse and three hundred -grenadiers, to support us. And it was very well he did so; for Prince -Commercy, having intelligence of the first party, came forward sooner -than they expected, and fell upon them, and had entirely routed them -had not the Count, hearing the firing, advanced with the thousand horse -he had, with such expedition as to support his men in the very heat of -the action, by which means the Germans were defeated and forced to -retire. But the prince made a pretty good retreat, and after the action -came on to the wood where I was posted; but the surprise of his defeat -had prevented his sending a detachment to secure the pass at the wood, -as he intended. - -The Count de Tesse, understanding that we were sent, as above, to the -wood, followed them close at the heels, to prevent our being cut off, -and, if it were possible that we should give them any check at the -wood, to fall in and have another brush with them. It was near night -before they came to the wood, by which means they could not discern our -number. But when they came up to the wood, fifty dragoons advanced to -discover the pass and see if all was clear. These we suffered to pass a -great way into the defile, or lane, that went through the wood, and -then clapping in between them and the entrance, cut off their retreat -so effectually that when they discovered us and fired, they were -instantly surrounded and cut in pieces, the officers who commanded them -and eight dragoons only being made prisoners. - -This made the prince halt, not knowing what the case was or how strong -we were, and, to get better intelligence, sent two hundred horse to -surround or skirt the wood and beat up our quarter, and in the interim -the Count de Tesse appeared in his rear. We found the strait he was in -by the noise of our own troops at a distance; so we resolved to engage -the two hundred horse immediately. Accordingly our little troop of -horse drew up in the entrance of the lane and offered to skirmish, and -our foot, lying behind the hedge which went round the wood, stood ready -to act as occasion should offer. The horse, being attacked, gave way, -and retired into the lane; but the Germans were too old for us there. -They contented themselves to push us to the entrance, but would not be -drawn into a narrow pass without knowing whether the hedges were lined -or no. - -But the prince, finding the French in his rear, and not being strong -enough to engage again, resolved to force his way through, and -commanded his dragoons to alight and enter the wood, to clear the -hedges on either side the lane, that he might pass with his cavalry. -This they did so vigorously, and were so much too strong for us, that -though we made good our ground a long time, yet our men were almost -half of them cut in pieces. However, we gave time to the French cavalry -to come up, and to fall on the prince’s troops and cut them off, and -take a great many prisoners, and then we retreated in our turn, opening -a gap for our own horse to break in. Three hundred of the dragoons were -killed, and two hundred of them taken prisoners. - -In the first heat of this action, a German officer of dragoons, well -followed, had knocked down three men that stood next me; and, offering -me quarter, I was obliged to accept it, and gave him my sword; for our -men were upon the point of quitting their post and shifting every one -as they could. But the scale was turned, for our cavalry breaking in, -as above, the dragoons went to wreck, and the officer who had me -prisoner, turning to me, said, “We are all lost.” I asked him if I -could serve him. “Stand still a little,” says he; for his men fought -most desperately indeed. But about two hundred French horse appearing -in his rear too, he said to me in French, “I will be your prisoner,” -and returning me my sword, gave me also his own. A dragoon that stood -near him was just going to do the like, when he was shot dead, and the -horse coming up, the field was cleared in an instant. But Prince -Commercy went off with the rest of his party, and was pursued no -farther. - -There were sixteen or seventeen of our men released, as I was, from -being taken; but they had not the luck I had, to take the officer that -had them in keeping. He had been so generous to me as not to ask what -money I had about me, though I had not much if he had. But I lost by -his civility, for then I could not have the assurance to ask him for -his money, though I understood he had near a hundred pistoles about -him. But he very handsomely at night, when we came to our tents, made -me a present of twenty pistoles, and in return I obtained leave for him -to go to Prince Eugene’s camp upon his parole, which he did, and so got -himself exchanged. - -It was after this campaign that I was quartered at Cremona, when the -action happened there of which I have spoken already, and where our -Irish regiment did such service that they saved the town from being -really surprised, and indeed beat the Germans out again, after they had -been masters of three-quarters of the town six hours, and by which they -gained a very great reputation. - -But I hasten on to my own history, for I am not writing a journal of -the wars, in which I had no long share. - -The summer after this our two Irish regiments were drawn out into the -field, and had many a sore brush with the Germans; for Prince Eugene, a -vigilant general, gave us little rest, and gained many advantages by -his continual moving up and down, harassing his own men and ours too; -and whoever will do the French justice, and knew how they had behaved, -must acknowledge they never declined the Germans, but fought them upon -all occasions with the utmost resolution and courage; and though it -cost the blood of an infinite number of fine gentlemen, as well as -private soldiers, yet the Duke de Vendôme, who now commanded, though -King Philip was himself in the army this campaign, made the Prince of -Savoy a full return in his own kind, and drove him from post to post, -till he was just at the point of quitting the whole country of Italy. -All that gallant army Prince Eugene brought with him into Italy, which -was the best without doubt, for the goodness of the troops, that ever -were there, laid their bones in that country, and many thousands more -after them, till, the affairs of France declining in other places, they -were forced in their turn to give way to their fate, as may be seen in -the histories of those times, as above. But it is none of my business. - -The part that I bore in these affairs was but short and sharp. We took -the field about the beginning of July 1702, and the Duke de Vendôme -ordered the whole army to draw the sooner together, in order to relieve -the city of Mantua, which was blocked up by the imperialists. - -Prince Eugene was a politic, and indeed a fortunate, prince, and had -the year before pushed our army upon many occasions. But his good -fortune began to fail him a little this year, for our army was not only -more numerous than his, but the duke was in the field before him; and -as the prince had held Mantua closely blocked up all the winter, the -duke resolved to relieve the town, cost what it would. As I said, the -duke was first in the field; the prince was in no condition to prevent -his raising the blockade by force; so he drew off his troops, and -leaving several strong bodies of troops to protect Bersello, which the -Duke de Vendôme threatened, and Borgo Fort, where his magazine lay, he -drew all the rest of his forces together, to make head against us. By -this time the king of Spain was come into the army, and the Duke de -Vendôme lay with about thirty-five thousand men near Luzara, which he -had resolved to attack, to bring Prince Eugene to a battle. The Prince -of Vaudemont lay intrenched with twenty thousand more at Rivalto, -behind Mantua, to cover the frontiers of Milan, and there was near -twelve thousand in Mantua itself; and Monsieur Pracontal lay with ten -thousand men just under the cannon of one of the forts which guard the -causeway which leads into the city of Mantua; so that, had all these -joined, as they would have done in a few days more, the prince must -have been put to his shifts, and would have had enough to do to have -maintained himself in Italy; for he was master of no one place in the -country that could have held out a formal siege of fifteen days’ open -trenches, and he knew all this very well; and therefore it seems, while -the Duke of Vendôme resolved, if possible, to bring him to a battle, -and to that end made dispositions to attack Luzara, we were surprised -to find, the 15th of June 1702, the whole imperial army appeared in -_battalia_, and in full march, to attack us. - -As it happened, our army was all marching in columns towards them, as -we had done for two days before; and I should have told you that, three -days before, the duke having noticed that General Visconti, with three -imperial regiments of horse and one of dragoons, was posted at -San-Victoria, on the Tessona, he resolved to attack them; and this -design was carried so secretly, that while Monsieur Visconti, though -our army was three leagues another way, was passing towards the -Modenese, he found himself unexpectedly attacked by six thousand horse -and dragoons of the French army. He defended himself very bravely for -near an hour; when, being overpowered, and finding he should be forced -into disorder, he sounded a retreat. But the squadrons had not faced -about to make their retreat scarce a quarter of an hour, when they -found themselves surrounded with a great body of infantry, who had -entirely cut off their retreat, except over the bridge of Tessona, -which being thronged with their baggage, they could neither get -backward or forward; so they thrust and tumbled over one another in -such a manner that they could preserve no kind of order; but abundance -fell into the river and were drowned, many were killed, and more taken -prisoners; so that, in a word, the whole three regiments of horse and -one of dragoons were entirely defeated. - -This was a great blow to the prince, because they were some of the -choicest troops of his whole army. We took about four hundred -prisoners, and all their baggage, which was a very considerable booty, -and about eight hundred horses; and no doubt these troops were very -much wanted in the battle that ensued on the 15th, as I have said. Our -army being in full march, as above, to attack Luzara, a party of -Germans appeared, being about six hundred horse, and in less than an -hour more their whole army, in order of battle. - -Our army formed immediately, and the duke posted the regiments as they -came up so much to their advantage that Prince Eugene was obliged to -alter his dispositions, and had this particular inconvenience upon his -hands, viz., to attack an army superior to his own, in all their most -advantageous posts; whereas, had he thought fit to have waited but one -day, we should have met him half-way. But this was owing to the pride -of the German generals, and their being so opinionated of the goodness -of their troops. The royal army was posted with the left to the great -river Po, on the other side of which the Prince of Vaudemont’s army lay -cannonading the intrenchments which the imperialists had made at Borgo -Fort; and hearing that there was like to be a general battle, he -detached twelve battalions and about a thousand horse, to reinforce the -royal army; all which, to our great encouragement, had time to join the -army, while Prince Eugene was making his new dispositions for the -attack. And yet it was the coming of these troops which caused Prince -Eugene to resolve to begin the fight, expecting to have come to an -action before they could come up. But he was disappointed in the reason -of fighting, and yet was obliged to fight too, which was an error in -the prince that it was too late to retrieve. - -It was five o’clock in the evening before he could bring up his whole -line to engage; and then, after having cannonaded us to no great -purpose for half-an-hour, his right, commanded by the Prince de -Commercy, attacked our left wing with great fury. Our men received them -so well and seconded one another so punctually that they were repulsed -with a very great slaughter; and the Prince de Commercy being, -unhappily for them, killed in the first onset, the regiments, for want -of orders, and surprised with the fall of so great a man, were pushed -into disorder, and one whole brigade was entirely broke. - -But their second line, advancing under General Herbeville, restored -things in the first. The battalions rallied, and they came boldly on to -charge a second time, and being seconded with new reinforcements from -their main body, our men had their turn, and were pushed to a canal -which lay on their left flank between them and the Po, behind which -they rallied; and being supported by new troops, as well horse as foot, -they fought on both sides with the utmost obstinacy, and with such -courage and skill that it was not possible to judge who should have had -the better could they have been able to have fought it out. - -On the right of the royal army was posted the flower of the French -cavalry—namely, the gendarmes, the royal carbineers, and the queen’s -horse-guards, with four hundred horse more—and next them the infantry, -among which were our brigade. The horse advanced first to charge, and -they carried all before them sword in hand, receiving the fire of two -imperial regiments of cuirassiers without firing a shot, and falling in -among them, bore them down by the strength of their horses, putting -them into confusion, and left so clear a field for us to follow that -the first line of our infantry stood drawn up upon the ground which the -enemy at first possessed. - -In this first attack the Marquis de Crequi, who commanded the whole -right wing, was killed—a loss which fully balanced the death of the -Prince de Commercy on the side of the Germans. After we had thus pushed -the enemy’s cavalry, as above, their troops, being rallied by the -dexterity of their generals and supported by three imperial regiments -of foot, came on again to the charge with such fury that nothing could -withstand them. And here two battalions of our Irish regiments were put -into disorder, and abundance of our men killed; and here also I had the -misfortune to receive a musket-shot, which broke my left arm; and that -was not all, for I was knocked down by a giant-like German soldier, -who, when he thought he had killed me, set his foot upon me, but was -immediately shot dead by one of my men, and fell just upon me, which, -my arm being broken, was a very great mischief to me; for the very -weight of the fellow, who was almost as big as a horse, was such that I -was not able to stir. - -Our men were beaten back after this from the place where they stood; -and so I was left in possession of the enemy, but was not their -prisoner—that is to say, was not found till next morning, when a party -being sent, as usual, with surgeons to look after the wounded men among -the dead, found me almost smothered with the dead Germans and others -that lay near me. However, to do them justice, they used me with -humanity, and the surgeons set my arm very skilfully and well; and four -or five days after, I had liberty to go to Parma upon parole. - -Both the armies continued fighting, especially on our left, till it was -so dark that it was impossible to know who they fired at, or for the -generals to see what they did; so they abated firing gradually, and, as -it may be truly said, the night parted them. - -Both sides claimed the victory, and both concealed their losses as much -as it was possible; but it is certain that never battle was fought with -greater bravery and obstinacy than this was; and had there been -daylight to have fought it out, doubtless there would have been many -thousand more men killed on both sides. - -All the Germans had to entitle them to the victory was, that they made -our left retire, as I have said, to the canal, and to the high banks or -mounds on the edge of the Po; but they had so much advantage in the -retreat—they fired from thence among the thickest of the enemy, and -could never be forced from their posts. - -The best testimony the royal army had of the victory, and which was -certainly the better of the two, was, that, two days after the fight, -they attacked Guastalia, as it were in view of the German army, and -forced the garrison to surrender, and to swear not to serve again for -six months, which, they being fifteen hundred men, was a great loss to -the Germans; and yet Prince Eugene did not offer to relieve it. And -after that we took several other posts which the imperialists had -possession of, but were obliged to quit them upon the approach of the -French army, not being in a condition to fight another battle that -year. - -My campaign was now at an end, and though I came lame off, I came off -much better than abundance of gentlemen; for in that bloody battle we -had above four hundred officers killed or wounded, whereof three were -general officers. - -The campaign held on till December, and the Duke de Vendôme took Borgo -Fort and several other places from the Germans, who, in short, lost -ground every day in Italy. I was a prisoner a great while, and there -being no cartel settled, Prince Eugene ordered the French prisoners to -be sent into Hungary, which was a cruelty that could not be reasonably -exercised on them. However, a great many, by that banishment, found -means to make their escape to the Turks, by whom they were kindly -received, and the French ambassador at Constantinople took care of -them, and shipped them back again into Italy at the king’s charge. - -But the Duke de Vendôme now took so many German prisoners that Prince -Eugene was tired of sending his prisoners to Hungary, and was obliged -to be at the charge of bringing some of them back again whom he had -sent thither, and come to agree to a general exchange of prisoners. - -I was, as I have said, allowed for a time to go to Parma upon my -parole, where I continued for the recovery of my wound and broken arm -forty days, and was then obliged to render myself to the commanding -officer at Ferrara, where Prince Eugene coming soon after, I was, with -several other prisoners of war, sent away into the Milanese, to be kept -for an exchange of prisoners. - -It was in the city of Trent that I continued about eight months. The -man in whose house I quartered was exceedingly civil to me, and took a -great deal of care of me, and I lived very easy. Here I contracted a -kind of familiarity, perfectly undesigned by me, with the daughter of -the burgher at whose house I had lodged, and, I know not by what -fatality that was upon me, I was prevailed with afterwards to marry -her. This was a piece of honesty on my side which I must acknowledge I -never intended to be guilty of; but the girl was too cunning for me, -for she found means to get some wine into my head more than I used to -drink, and though I was not so disordered with it but that I knew very -well what I did, yet in an unusual height of good humour I consented to -be married. This impolitic piece of honesty put me to many -inconveniences, for I knew not what to do with this clog which I had -loaded myself with. I could neither stay with her or take her with me, -so that I was exceedingly perplexed. - -The time came soon after that I was released by the cartel, and so was -obliged to go to my regiment, which then was in quarters in the -Milanese, and from thence I got leave to go to Paris, upon my promise -to raise some recruits in England for the Irish regiments, by the help -of my correspondence there. Having thus leave to go to Paris, I took a -passport from the enemy’s army to go to Trent, and making a long -circuit, I went back thither, and very honestly packed up my baggage, -wife and all, and brought her away through Tyrol into Bavaria, and so -through Suabia and the Black Forest into Alsatia; from thence I came -into Lorraine, and so to Paris. - -I had now a secret design to quit the war, for I really had had enough -of fighting. But it was counted so dishonourable a thing to quit while -the army was in the field that I could not dispense with it; but an -intervening accident made that part easy to me. The war was now renewed -between France and England and Holland, just as it was before; and the -French king, meditating nothing more than how to give the English a -diversion, fitted out a strong squadron of men-of-war and frigates at -Dunkirk, on board of which he embarked a body of troops of about six -thousand five hundred men, besides volunteers; and the new king, as we -called him, though more generally he was called the Chevalier de St. -George, was shipped along with them, and all for Scotland. - -I pretended a great deal of zeal for this service, and that if I might -be permitted to sell my company in the Irish regiment I was in, and -have the chevalier’s brevet for a colonel, in case of raising troops -for him in Great Britain after his arrival, I would embark volunteer -and serve at my own expense. The latter gave me a great advantage with -the chevalier; for now I was esteemed as a man of consideration, and -one that must have a considerable interest in my own country. So I -obtained leave to sell my company, and having had a good round sum of -money remitted me from London, by the way of Holland, I prepared a very -handsome equipage, and away I went to Dunkirk to embark. - -I was very well received by the chevalier; and as he had an account -that I was an officer in the Irish brigade, and had served in Italy, -and consequently was an old soldier, all this added to the character -which I had before, and made me have a great deal of honour paid me, -though at the same time I had no particular attachment to his person or -to his cause. Nor indeed did I much consider the cause of one side or -other. If I had, I should hardly have risked, not my life only, but -effects too, which were all, as I might say, from that moment forfeited -to the English government, and were too evidently in their power to -confiscate at their pleasure. - -However, having just received a remittance from London of £300 -sterling, and sold my company in the Irish regiment for very near as -much, I was not only insensibly drawn in, but was perfectly volunteer -in that dull cause, and away I went with them at all hazards. It -belongs very little to my history to give an account of that fruitless -expedition, only to tell you that, being so closely and effectually -chased by the English fleet, which was superior in force to the French, -I may say that, in escaping them, I escaped being hanged. - -It was the good fortune of the French that they overshot the port they -aimed at, and intending for the Frith of Forth, or, as it is called, -the Frith of Edinburgh, the first land they made was as far north as a -place called Montrose, where it was not their business to land, and so -they were obliged to come back to the frith, and were gotten to the -entrance of it, and came to an anchor for the tide. But this delay or -hindrance gave time to the English, under Sir George Byng, to come to -the frith, and they came to an anchor, just as we did, only waiting to -go up the frith with the flood. - -Had we not overshot the port, as above, all our squadron had been -destroyed in two days, and all we could have done had been to have -gotten into the pier or haven at Leith with the smaller frigates, and -have landed the troops and ammunition; but we must have set fire to the -men-of-war, for the English squadron was not above twenty-four hours -behind us, or thereabout. - -Upon this surprise, the French admiral set sail from the north point of -the frith where we lay, and crowding away to the north, got the start -of the English fleet, and made their escape, with the loss of one ship -only, which, being behind the rest, could not get away. - -When we were satisfied the English left chasing us, which was not till -the third night, when we altered our course and lost sight of them, we -stood over to the coast of Norway, and keeping that shore on board all -the way to the mouth of the Baltic, we came to an anchor again, and -sent two scouts abroad to learn news, to see if the sea was clear; and -being satisfied that the enemy did not chase us, we kept on with an -easier sail, and came all back again 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 run in my head, concluding that, if I had been -taken, I should certainly have been hanged. - -But the care was now over. I took my leave of the chevalier, and of the -army, and made haste to Paris. I came so unexpectedly to Paris, and to -my own lodgings, that it was my misfortune to make a discovery relating -to my wife which was not at all to my satisfaction; for I found her -ladyship had kept some company that I had reason to believe were not -such as an honest woman ought to have conversed with, and as I knew her -temper by what I had found of her myself, I grew very jealous and -uneasy about her. I must own it touched me very nearly, for I began to -have an extraordinary value for her, and her behaviour was very taking, -especially after I had brought her into France; but having a vein of -levity, it was impossible to prevent her running into such things in a -town so full of what they call gallantry as Paris. - -It vexed me also to think that it should be my fate to be a cuckold -both abroad and at home, and sometimes I would be in such a rage about -it that I had no government of myself when I thought of it. Whole days, -and I may say sometimes whole nights, I spent musing and considering -what I should do to her, and especially what I should do to the -villain, whoever he was, that had thus abused and supplanted me. Here -indeed I committed murder more than once, or indeed than a hundred -times, in my imagination; and, as the devil is certainly an apparent -prompter to wickedness, if he is not the first mover of it in our -minds, he teased me night and day with proposals to kill my wife. - -This horrid project he carried up so high, by raising fierce thoughts -and fomenting the blood upon my contemplation of the word cuckold, -that, in short, I left debating whether I should murder her or no, as a -thing out of the question, and determined; and my thoughts were then -taken up only with the management how I should kill her, and how to -make my escape after I had done it. - -All this while I had no sufficient evidence of her guilt, neither had I -so much as charged her with it or let her know I suspected her, -otherwise than as she might perceive it in my conduct, and in the -change of my behaviour to her, which was such that she could not but -perceive that something troubled me. Yet she took no notice of it to -me, but received me very well, and showed herself to be glad of my -return. Nor did I find she had been extravagant in her expenses while I -was abroad. But jealousy, as the wise man says, is the wrath of a man; -her being so good a hussy at what money I had left her gave my -distempered fancy an opinion that she had been maintained by other -people, and so had had no occasion to spend. - -I must confess she had a difficult point here upon her, though she had -been really honest; for, as my head was prepossessed of her dishonesty, -if she had been lavish I should have said she had spent it upon her -gentlemen; and as she had been frugal, I said she had been maintained -by them. Thus, I say, my head was distempered; I believed myself -abused, and nothing could put it out of my thoughts night or day. - -All this while it was not visibly broken out between us; but I was so -fully possessed with the belief of it that I seemed to want no -evidence, and I looked with an evil eye upon everybody that came near -her or that she conversed with. There was an officer of the Guards du -Corps that lodged in the same house with us, a very honest gentleman -and a man of quality. I happened to be in a little drawing-room -adjoining to a parlour where my wife sat at that time, and this -gentleman came into the parlour, which, as he was one of the family, he -might have done without offence; but he, not knowing that I was in the -drawing-room, sat down and talked with my wife. I heard every word they -said, for the door between us was open; nor could I say that there -passed anything between them but cursory discourse. They talked of -casual things, of a young lady, a burgher’s daughter of nineteen, that -had been married the week before to an advocate in the Parliament of -Paris, vastly rich, and about sixty-three; and of another, a widow lady -of fortune in Paris, that had married her deceased husband’s _valet de -chamber_; and of such casual matters, that I could find no fault with -her now at all. - -But it filled my head with jealous thoughts and fired my temper. Now I -fancied he used too much freedom with her, then that she used too much -freedom to him, and once or twice I was upon the point of breaking in -upon them and affronting them both, but I restrained myself. At length -he talked some thing merrily of the lady throwing away her maiden head, -as I understood it, upon an old man; but still it was nothing indecent. -But I, who was all on fire already, could bear it no longer, but -started up and came into the room, and catching at my wife’s words, -“Say you so, madam?” said I. “Was he too old for her?” and giving the -officer a look that I fancy was something akin to the face on the sign -called the Bull and Mouth, within Aldersgate, I went out into the -street. - -The marquis—so he was styled—a man of honour and of spirit too, took it -as I meant it, and followed me in a moment and “hemmed” after me in the -street; upon which I stopped, and he came up to me. “Sir,” said he, -“our circumstances are very unhappy in France, that we cannot do -ourselves justice here without the most severe treatment in the world. -But, come on it what will, you must explain yourself to me on the -subject of your behaviour just now.” - -I was a little cooled as to the point of my conduct to him in the very -few moments that had passed, and was very sensible that I was wrong to -him; and I said, therefore, to him, very frankly, “Sir, you are a -gentleman whom I know very well, and I have a very great respect for -you; but I had been disturbed a little about the conduct of my wife, -and were it your own case, what would you have done less?” - -“I am sorry for any dislike between you and your wife,” says he; “but -what is that to me? Can you charge me with any indecency to her, except -my talking so and so?” (at which he repeated the words); “and as I knew -you were in the next room and heard every word, and that all the doors -were open, I thought no man could have taken amiss so innocent an -expression.” - -“I could no otherwise take it amiss,” said I, “than as I thought it -implied a farther familiarity, and that you cannot expect should be -borne by any man of honour. However, sir,” said I, “I spoke only to my -wife. I said nothing to you, but gave you my hat as I passed you.” - -“Yes,” said he, “and a look as full of rage as the devil. Are there no -words in such looks?” - -“I can say nothing to that,” said I, “for I cannot see my own -countenance; but my rage, as you call it, was at my wife, not at you.” - -“But hark you, sir,” said he, growing warm as I grew calm, “your anger -at your wife was for her discourse with me, and I think that concerns -me too, and I ought to resent it.” - -“I think not, sir,” said I; “nor, had I found you in bed with my wife, -would I have quarrelled with you; for if my wife will let you lie with -her, it is she is the offender. What have I to do with you? You could -not lie with her if she was not willing; and if she is willing to be a -whore, I ought to punish her; but I should have no quarrel with you. I -will lie with your wife if I can, and then I am even with you.” - -I spoke this all in good humour and in order to pacify him, but it -would not do; but he would have me give him satisfaction, as he called -it. I told him I was a stranger in the country, and perhaps should find -little mercy in their course of justice; that it was not my business to -fight any man in his vindicating his keeping company with my wife, for -that the injury was mine, in having a bad woman to deal with; that -there was no reason in the thing, that after any man should have found -the way into my bed, I, who am injured, should go and stake my life -upon an equal hazard against the man who has abused me. - -Nothing would prevail with this person to be quiet for all this; but I -had affronted him, and no satisfaction could be made him but that at -the point of the sword; so we agreed to go away together to Lisle, in -Flanders. I was now soldier enough not to be afraid to look a man in -the face, and as the rage at my wife inspired me with courage, so he -let fall a word that fired and provoked me beyond all patience; for, -speaking of the distrust I had of my wife, he said, unless I had good -information I ought not to suspect my wife. I told him, if I had good -information, I should be past suspicion. He replied, if he was the -happy man, that had so much of her favour, he would take care then to -put me past the suspicion. I gave him as rough an answer as he could -desire, and he returned in French, _“Nous verrons à Lisle_;” that is to -say, “We will talk further of it at Lisle.” - -I told him I did not see the benefit either to him or me of going so -far as Lisle to decide this quarrel, since now I perceived he was the -man I wanted; that we might decide this quarrel _au champ_, upon the -spot, and whoever had the fortune to fall the other might make his -escape to Lisle as well afterwards as before. - -Thus we walked on talking very ill-naturedly on both sides, and yet -very mannerly, till we came clear of the suburbs of Paris, on the way -to Charenton; when, seeing the way clear, I told him under those trees -was a very fit place for us, pointing to a row of trees adjoining to -Monsieur ——’s garden-wall. So we went thither, and fell to work -immediately. After some fencing he made a home-thrust at me, and run me -into my arm, a long slanting wound, but at the same time received my -point into his body, and soon after fell. He spoke some words before he -dropped; first he told me I had killed him; then he said he had indeed -wronged me, and as he knew it, he ought not to have fought me. He -desired I would make my escape immediately, which I did into the city, -but no farther, nobody, as I thought, having seen us together. In the -afternoon, about six hours after the action, messengers brought news, -one on the heels of another, that the marquis was mortally wounded, and -carried into a house at Charenton. That account, saying he was not -dead, surprised me a little, not doubting but that, concluding I had -made my escape, he would own who it was. However, I discovered nothing -of my concern, but, going up into my chamber, I took out of a cabinet -there what money I had, which indeed was so much as I thought would be -sufficient for my expenses. But having an accepted bill for two -thousand livres, I walked sedately to a merchant who knew me, and got -fifty pistoles of him upon my bill, letting him know my business called -me to England, and I would take the rest of him when he had received -it. - -Having furnished myself thus, I provided me a horse for my servant, for -I had one very good one of my own, and once more ventured home to my -lodging, where I heard again that the marquis was not dead. My wife all -this while covered her concern for the marquis so well that she gave me -no room to make any remark upon her; but she saw evidently the marks of -rage and deep resentment in my behaviour after some little stay, and -perceiving me making preparation for a journey, she said to me, “Are -you going out of town?” “Yes, madam,” says I, “that you may have room -to mourn for your friend the marquis;” at which she started, and showed -she was indeed in a most terrible fright, and making a thousand crosses -about herself, with a great many callings upon the Blessed Virgin and -her country saints, she burst out at last, “Is it possible? Are you the -man that has killed the marquis? Then you are undone, and I too.” - -“You may, madam, be a loser by the marquis being killed; but I’ll take -care to be as little a loser by you as I can. ’Tis enough; the marquis -has honestly confessed your guilt, and I have done with you.” She would -have thrown herself into my arms, protesting her innocence, and told me -she would fly with me, and would convince me of her fidelity by such -testimonies as I could not but be satisfied with, but I thrust her -violently from me. “_Allez, infame!_” said I. “Go, infamous creature, -and take from me the necessity I should be under, if I stayed, of -sending you to keep company with your dear friend the marquis.” I -thrust her away with such force that she fell backward upon the floor, -and cried out most terribly, and indeed she had reason, for she was -very much hurt. - -It grieved me indeed to have thrust her away with such force, but you -must consider me now in the circumstances of a man enraged, and, as it -were, out of himself, furious and mad. However, I took her up from the -floor and laid her on the bed, and calling up her maid, bid her go and -take care of her mistress; and, going soon after out of doors, I took -horse and made the best of my way, not towards Calais or Dunkirk, or -towards Flanders, whither it might be suggested I was fled, and whither -they did pursue me the same evening, but I took the direct road for -Lorraine, and riding all night and very hard, I passed the Maine the -next day at night, at Chalons, and came safe into the Duke of -Lorraine’s dominions the third day, where I rested one day only to -consider what course to take; for it was still a most difficult thing -to pass any way, but that I should either be in the king of France’s -dominions or be taken by the French allies as a subject of France. But -getting good advice from a priest at Bar le Duc, who, though I did not -tell him the particulars of my case, yet guessed how it was, it being, -as he said, very usual for gentlemen in my circumstances to fly that -way;—upon this supposition, this kind _padre_ got me a church pass; -that is to say, he made me a purveyor for the abbey of ——, and, as -such, got me a passport to go to Deux Ponts, which belonged to the king -of Sweden. Having such authority there, and the priest’s recommendation -to an ecclesiastic in the place, I got passports from thence in the -king of Sweden’s name to Cologne, and then I was thoroughly safe. So, -making my way to the Netherlands without any difficulty, I came to the -Hague, and from thence, though very privately and by several names, I -came to England. And thus I got clear of my Italian wife—whore I should -have called her; for, after I had made her so myself, how should I -expect any other of her? - -Being arrived at London, I wrote to my friend at Paris, but dated my -letters from the Hague, where I ordered him to direct his answers. The -chief business of my writing was to know if my bill was paid him, to -inquire if any pursuit was made after me, and what other news he had -about me or my wife, and particularly how it had fared with the -marquis. - -I received an answer in a few days, importing that he had received the -money on my bill, which he was ready to pay as I should direct; that -the marquis was not dead; “but,” said he, “you have killed him another -way, for he has lost his commission in the Guards, which was worth to -him twenty thousand livres, and he is yet a close prisoner in the -Bastile;” that pursuit was ordered after me upon suspicion; that they -had followed me to Amiens, on the road to Dunkirk, and to Chastean de -Cambresis, on the way to Flanders, but missing me that way, had given -it over; that the marquis had been too well instructed to own that he -had fought with me, but said that he was assaulted on the road, and -unless I could be taken, he would take his trial and come off for want -of proof; that my flying was a circumstance indeed that moved strongly -against him, because it was known that we had had some words that day, -and were seen to walk together, but that, nothing being proved on -either side, he would come off with the loss of his commission, which, -however, being very rich, he could bear well enough. - -As to my wife, he wrote me word she was inconsolable, and had cried -herself to death almost; but he added (very ill-natured indeed), -whether it was for me or for the marquis, that he could not determine. -He likewise told me she was in very bad circumstances and very low, so -that, if I did not take some care of her, she would come to be in very -great distress. - -The latter part of this story moved me indeed, for I thought, however -it was, I ought not to let her starve; and, besides, poverty was a -temptation which a woman could not easily withstand, and I ought not to -be the instrument to drive her to a horrid necessity of crime, if I -could prevent it. - -Upon this I wrote to him again to go to her, and talk with her, and -learn as much as he could of her particular circumstances; and that, if -he found she was really in want, and, particularly, that she did not -live a scandalous life, he should give her twenty pistoles, and tell -her, if she would engage to live retired and honestly, she should have -so much annually, which was enough to subsist her. - -She took the first twenty pistoles, but bade him tell me that I had -wronged her and unjustly charged her, and I ought to do her justice; -and I had ruined her by exposing her in such a manner as I had, having -no proof of my charge or ground for any suspicion; that, as to twenty -pistoles a year, it was a mean allowance to a wife that had travelled -over the world, as she had done with me, and the like; and so -expostulated with him to obtain forty pistoles a year of me, which I -consented to. But she never gave me the trouble of paying above one -year; for after that the marquis was so fond of her again that he took -her away to himself, and, as my friend wrote me word, had settled four -hundred crowns a year on her, and I never heard any more of her. - -I was now in London, but was obliged to be very retired and change my -name, letting nobody in the nation know who I was, except my merchant -by whom I corresponded with my people in Virginia; and particularly -with my tutor, who was now become the head manager of my affairs, and -was in very good circumstances himself also by my means. But he -deserved all I did or could do for him, for he was a most faithful -friend as well as servant, as ever man had, in that country at least. - -I was not the easiest man alive, in the retired, solitary manner I now -lived in; and I experienced the truth of the text, that “it is not good -for man to be alone,” for I was extremely melancholy and heavy, and -indeed knew not what to do with myself, particularly because I was -under some restraint, that I was too afraid to go abroad. At last I -resolved to go quite away, and go to Virginia again, and there live -retired as I could. - -But when I came to consider that part more narrowly, I could not -prevail with myself to live a private life. I had got a wandering kind -of taste, and knowledge of things begat a desire of increasing it, and -an exceeding delight I had in it, though I had nothing to do in the -armies or in war, and did not design ever to meddle with it again. Yet -I could not live in the world and not inquire what was doing in it; nor -could I think of living in Virginia, where I was to hear my news twice -a year, and read the public accounts of what was just then upon the -stocks, as the history of things past. - -This was my notion: I was now in my native country, where my -circumstances were easy, and though I had ill-luck abroad, for I -brought little money home with me, yet, by a little good management, I -might soon have money by me. I had nobody to keep but myself, and my -plantations in Virginia generally returned me from £400 to £600 a year, -one year above £700, and to go thither, I concluded, was to be buried -alive; so I put off all thoughts of it, and resolved to settle -somewhere in England where I might know everybody and nobody know me. I -was not long in concluding where to pitch, for as I spoke the French -tongue perfectly well, having been so many years among them, it was -easy for me to pass for a Frenchman. So I went to Canterbury, called -myself an Englishman among the French, and a Frenchman among the -English; and on that score was the more perfectly concealed, going by -the name of Monsieur Charnot with the French, and was called Mr. -Charnock among the English. - -Here indeed I lived perfectly incog. I made no particular acquaintance -so as to be intimate, and yet I knew everybody, and everybody knew me. -I discoursed in common, talked French with the Walloons, and English -with the English; and lived retired and sober, and was well enough -received by all sorts; but as I meddled with nobody’s business, so -nobody meddled with mine; I thought I lived pretty well. - -But I was not fully satisfied. A settled family life was the thing I -loved; had made two pushes at it, as you have heard, but with -ill-success; yet the miscarriage of what was past did not discourage me -at all, but I resolved to marry. I looked out for a woman as suitable -as I could, but always found some thing or other to shock my fancy, -except once a gentleman’s daughter of good fashion; but I met with so -many repulses of one kind or another that I was forced to give it over; -and indeed, though I might be said to be a lover in this suit, and had -managed myself so well with the young lady that I had no difficulty -left but what would soon have been adjusted, yet her father was so -difficult, made so many objections, was to-day not pleased one way, -to-morrow another, that he would stand by nothing that he himself had -proposed, nor could he be ever brought to be of the same mind two days -together; so that we at last put an end to the pretensions, for she -would not marry without her father’s consent, and I would not steal -her, and so that affair ended. - -I cannot say but I was a little vexed at the disappointment of this, so -I left the city of Canterbury and went to London in the stage-coach. -Here I had an odd scene presented as ever happened of its kind. - -There was in the stage-coach a young woman and her maid. She was -sitting in a very melancholy posture, for she was in the coach before -me, and sighed most dreadfully all the way, and whenever her maid spoke -to her she burst out into tears. I was not long in the coach with her -but, seeing she made such a dismal figure, I offered to comfort her a -little, and inquired into the occasion of her affliction. But she would -not speak a word; but her maid, with a force of crying too, said her -master was dead, at which word the lady burst out again into a passion -of crying, and between mistress and maid this was all I could get for -the morning part of that day. When we came to dine, I offered the lady, -that seeing, I supposed, she would not dine with the company, if she -would please to dine with me, I would dine in a separate room; for the -rest of the company were foreigners. Her maid thanked me in her -mistresses name, but her mistress could eat nothing, and desired to be -private. - -Here, however, I had some discourse with the maid, from whom I learned -that the lady was wife to a captain of a ship, who was outward bound to -somewhere in the Straits—I think it was to Zante and Venice; that, -being gone no farther than the Downs, he was taken sick, and after -about ten days’ illness had died at Deal; that his wife, hearing of his -sickness, had gone to Deal to see him, and had come but just time -enough to see him die; had stayed there to bury him, and was now coming -to London in a sad, disconsolate condition indeed. - -I heartily pitied the young gentlewoman indeed, and said some things to -her in the coach to let her know I did so, which she gave no answer to, -but in civility now and then made a bow, but never gave me the least -opportunity to see her face, or so much as to know whether she had a -face or no, much less to guess what form of a face it was. It was -winter time, and the coach put up at Rochester, not going through in a -day, as was usual in summer; and a little before we came to Rochester I -told the lady I understood she had ate nothing to-day, that such a -course would but make her sick, and, doing her harm, could do her -deceased husband no good; and therefore I entreated her that, as I was -a stranger, and only offered a civility to her in order to abate her -severely afflicting herself, she would yield so far to matters of -ceremony as let us sup together as passengers; for, as to the -strangers, they did not seem to understand the custom or to desire it. - -She bowed, but gave no answer; only, after pressing her by arguments, -which she could not deny was very civil and kind, she returned, she -gave me thanks, but she could not eat. “Well, madam,” said I, “do but -sit down; though you think you cannot eat, perhaps you may eat a bit. -Indeed you must eat, or you will destroy yourself at this rate of -living, and upon the road too; in a word, you will be sick indeed.” I -argued with her. The maid put in, and said, “Do, madam; pray try to -divert yourself a little.” I pressed her again, and she bowed to me -very respectfully, but still said, “No,” and she could not eat. The -maid continued to importune her, and said, “Dear madam, do. The -gentleman is a civil gentleman; pray, madam, do;” and then, turning to -me, said, “My mistress will, sir, I hope,” and seemed pleased, and -indeed was so. - -However, I went on to persuade her; and, taking no notice of what her -maid said, that I was a civil gentleman, I told her, “I am a stranger -to you, madam; but if I thought you were shy of me on any account, as -to civility, I will send my supper up to you in your own chamber, and -stay below myself.” She bowed then to me twice, and looked up, which -was the first time, and said she had no suspicion of that kind; that my -offer was so civil that she was as much ashamed to refuse it as she -should be ashamed to accept it, if she was where she was known; that -she thought I was not quite a stranger to her, for she had seen me -before; that she would accept my offer so far as to sit at table, -because I desired it; but she could not promise me to eat, and that she -hoped I would take the other as a constraint upon her, in return to so -much kindness. - -She startled me when she said she had seen me before; for I had not the -least knowledge of her, nor did I remember so much as to have heard of -her name; for I had asked her name of her maid; and indeed it made me -almost repent my compliment, for it was many ways essential to me not -to be known. However, I could not go back; and, besides, if I was -known, it was essentially necessary to me to know who it was that knew -me, and by what circumstances; so I went on with my compliment. - -We came to the inn but just before it was dark. I offered to hand my -widow out of the coach, and she could not decline it; but though her -hoods were not then much over her face, yet, being dark, I could see -little of her then. I waited on her then into the stairfoot, and led -her up the inn-stairs to a dining-room which the master of the house -offered to show us, as if for the whole company; but she declined going -in there, and said she desired rather to go directly to her chamber, -and turning to her maid, bade her speak to the innkeeper to show her to -her lodging-room. So I waited on her to the door, and took my leave, -telling her I would expect her at supper. - -In order to treat her moderately well, and not extravagantly, for I had -no thoughts of anything farther than civility, which was the effect of -mere compassion for the unhappiness of the most truly disconsolate -woman that I ever met with; I say, in order to treat her handsomely, -but not extravagantly, I provided what the house afforded, which was a -couple of partridges and a very good dish of stewed oysters. They -brought us up afterwards a neat’s tongue and a ham that was almost cut -quite down, but we ate none of it; for the other was fully enough for -us both, and the maid made her supper off the oysters we had left, -which were enough. - -I mention this because it should appear I did not treat her as a person -I was making any court to, for I had nothing of that in my thoughts; -but merely in pity to the poor woman, who I saw in a circumstance that -was indeed very unhappy. - -When I gave her maid notice that supper was ready, she fetched her -mistress, coming in before her with a candle in her hand, and then it -was that I saw her face, and being in her dishabille, she had no hood -over her eyes or black upon her head, when I was truly surprised to see -one of the most beautiful faces upon earth. I saluted her, and led her -to the fireside, the table, though spread, being too far from the fire, -the weather being cold. - -She was now something sociable, though very grave, and sighed often on -account of her circumstances. But she so handsomely governed her grief, -yet so artfully made it mingle itself with all her discourse, that it -added exceedingly to her behaviour, which was every way most -exquisitely genteel. I had a great deal of discourse with her, and upon -many subjects, and by degrees took her name, that is to say, from -herself, as I had done before from her maid; also the place where she -lived, viz., near Ratcliff, or rather Stepney, where I asked her leave -to pay her a visit when she thought fit to admit company, which she -seemed to intimate would not be a great while. - -It is a subject too surfeiting to entertain people with the beauty of a -person they will never see. Let it suffice to tell them she was the -most beautiful creature of her sex that I ever saw before or since; and -it cannot be wondered if I was charmed with her the very first moment I -saw her face. Her behaviour was likewise a beauty in itself, and was so -extraordinary that I cannot say I can describe it. - -The next day she was much more free than she was the first night, and I -had so much conversation as to enter into particulars of things on both -sides; also she gave me leave to come and see her house, which, -however, I did not do under a fortnight or thereabouts, because I did -not know how far she would dispense with the ceremony which it was -necessary to keep up at the beginning of the mourning. - -However, I came as a man that had business with her, relating to the -ship her husband was dead out of, and the first time I came was -admitted; and, in short, the first time I came I made love to her. She -received that proposal with disdain. I cannot indeed say she treated me -with any disrespect, but she said she abhorred the offer, and would -hear no more of it. How I came to make such a proposal to her I scarce -knew then, though it was very much my intention from the first. - -In the meantime I inquired into her circumstances and her character, -and heard nothing but what was very agreeable of them both; and, above -all, I found she had the report of the best-humoured lady and the -best-bred of all that part of the town; and now I thought I had found -what I had so often wished for to make me happy and had twice -miscarried in, and resolved not to miss her, if it was possible to -obtain her. - -It came indeed a little into my thoughts that I was a married man, and -had a second wife alive, who, though she was false to me and a whore, -yet I was not legally divorced from her, and that she was my wife for -all that. But I soon got over that part; for, first, as she was a -whore, and the marquis had confessed it to me, I was divorced in law, -and I had a power to put her away. But having had the misfortune of -fighting a duel, and being obliged to quit the country, I could not -claim the legal process which was my right, and therefore might -conclude myself as much divorced as if it had been actually done, and -so that scruple vanished. - -I suffered now two months to run without pressing my widow any more, -only I kept a strict watch to find if any one else pretended to her. At -the end of two months I visited her again, when I found she received me -with more freedom, and we had no more sighs and sobs about the last -husband; and though she would not let me press my former proposal so -far as I thought I might have done, yet I found I had leave to come -again, and it was the article of decency which she stood upon as much -as anything; that I was not disagreeable to her, and that my using her -so handsomely upon the road had given me a great advantage in her -favour. - -I went on gradually with her, and gave her leave to stand off for two -months more. But then I told her the matter of decency, which was but a -ceremony, was not to stand in competition with the matter of affection; -and, in short, I could not bear any longer delay, but that, if she -thought fit, we might marry privately; and, to cut the story short, as -I did my courtship, in about five months I got her in the mind, and we -were privately married, and that with so very exact a concealment that -her maid, that was so instrumental in it, yet had no knowledge of it -for near a month more. - -I was now, not only in my imagination, but in reality, the most happy -creature in the world, as I was so infinitely satisfied with my wife, -who was indeed the best-humoured woman in the world, a most -accomplished, beautiful creature indeed, perfectly well-bred, and had -not one ill quality about her; and this happiness continued without the -least interruption for about six years. - -But I, that was to be the most unhappy fellow alive in the article of -matrimony, had at last a disappointment of the worst sort even here. I -had three fine children by her, and in her time of lying-in with the -last she got some cold, that she did not in a long time get off; and, -in short, she grew very sickly. In being so continually ill and out of -order, she very unhappily got a habit of drinking cordials and hot -liquors. Drink, like the devil, when it gets hold of any one, though -but a little, it goes on by little and little to their destruction. So -in my wife, her stomach being weak and faint, she first took this -cordial, then that, till, in short, she could not live without them, -and from a drop to a sup, from a sup to a dram, from a dram to a glass, -and so on to two, till at last she took, in short, to what we call -drinking. - -As I likened drink to the devil, in its gradual possession of the -habits and person, so it is yet more like the devil in its encroachment -on us, where it gets hold of our senses. In short, my beautiful, -good-humoured, modest, well-bred wife grew a beast, a slave to strong -liquor, and would be drunk at her own table—nay, in her own closet by -herself, till, instead of a well-made, fine shape, she was as fat as a -hostess; her fine face, bloated and blotched, had not so much as the -ruins of the most beautiful person alive—nothing remained but a good -eye; that indeed she held to the last. In short, she lost her beauty, -her shape, her manners, and at last her virtue; and, giving herself up -to drinking, killed herself in about a year and a half after she first -began that cursed trade, in which time she twice was exposed in the -most scandalous manner with a captain of a ship, who, like a villain, -took the advantage of her being in drink and not knowing what she did. -But it had this unhappy effect, that instead of her being ashamed and -repenting of it when she came to herself, it hardened her in the crime, -and she grew as void of modesty at last as of sobriety. - -Oh, the power of intemperance! and how it encroaches on the best -dispositions in the world; how it comes upon us gradually and -insensibly; and what dismal effects it works upon our morals, changing -the most virtuous, regular, well-instructed, and well-inclined tempers -into worse than brutal! That was a good story, whether real or -invented, of the devil tempting a young man to murder his father. No, -he said; that was unnatural. “Why, then,” says the devil, “go and lie -with your mother.” “No,” says he; “that is abominable.” “Well, then,” -says the devil, “if you will do nothing else to oblige me, go and get -drunk.” “Ay, ay,” says the fellow, “I will do that.” So he went and -made himself drunk as a swine, and when he was drunk, he murdered his -father and lay with his mother. - -Never was a woman more virtuous, modest, chaste, sober; she never so -much as desired to drink any thing strong; it was with the greatest -entreaty that I could prevail with her to drink a glass or two of wine, -and rarely, if ever, above one or two at a time; even in company she -had no inclination to it. Not an immodest word ever came out of her -mouth, nor would she suffer it in any one else in her hearing without -resentment and abhorrence. But upon that weakness and illness after her -last lying-in, as above, the nurse pressed her, whenever she found -herself faint and a sinking of her spirits, to take this cordial and -that dram, to keep up her spirits, till it became necessary even to -keep her alive, and gradually increased to a habit, so that it was no -longer her physic but her food. Her appetite sunk and went quite away, -and she ate little or nothing, but came at last to such a dreadful -height that, as I have said, she would be drunk in her own -dressing-room by eleven o’clock in the morning, and, in short, at last -was never sober. - -In this life of hellish excess, as I have said, she lost all that was -before so valuable in her, and a villain, if it be proper to call a man -who was really a gentleman by such a name, who was an intimate -acquaintance, coming to pretend a visit to her, made her and her maid -so drunk together that he lay with them both; with the mistress, the -maid being in the room, and with the maid, the mistress being in the -room; after which he, it seems, took the like liberty with them both as -often as he thought fit, till the wench, being with child, discovered -it for herself, and for her mistress too. Let any one judge what was my -case now. I, that for six years thought myself the happiest man alive, -was now the most miserable, distracted creature. As to my wife, I loved -her so well, and was so sensible of the disaster of her drinking being -the occasion of it all, that I could not resent it to such a degree as -I had done in her predecessor; but I pitied her heartily. However, I -put away all her servants, and almost locked her up; that is to say, I -set new people over her, who would not suffer any one to come near her -without my knowledge. - -But what to do with the villain that had thus abused both her and me, -that was the question that remained. To fight him upon equal terms, I -thought, was a little hard; that after a man had treated me as he had -done, he deserved no fair play for his life. So I resolved to wait for -him in Stepney fields, and which way he often came home pretty late, -and pistol him in the dark, and, if possible, to let him know what I -killed him for before I did it. But when I came to consider of this, it -shocked my temper too as well as principle, and I could not be a -murderer, whatever else I could be, or whatever I was provoked to be. - -However, I resolved, on the other hand, that I would severely correct -him for what he had done, and it was not long before I had an -opportunity; for, hearing one morning that he was walking across the -fields from Stepney to Shadwell, which way I knew he often went, I -waited for his coming home again, and fairly met him. - -I had not many words with him, but told him I had long looked for him; -that he knew the villainy he had been guilty of in my family, and he -could not believe, since he knew also that I was fully informed of it, -but that I must be a great coward, as well as a cuckold, or that I -would resent it, and that it was now a very proper time to call him to -an account for it; and therefore bade him, if he durst show his face to -what he had done, and defend the name of a captain of a man-of-war, as -they said he had been, to draw. - -He seemed surprised at the thing, and began to parley, and would lessen -the crime of it; but I told him it was not a time to talk that way, -since he could not deny the fact; and to lessen the crime was to lay it -the more upon the woman, who, I was sure, if he had not first debauched -with wine, he could never have brought to the rest; and, seeing he -refused to draw, I knocked him down with my cane at one blow, and I -would not strike him again while he lay on the ground, but waited to -see him recover a little; for I saw plainly he was not killed. In a few -minutes he came to himself again, and then I took him fast by one -wrist, and caned him as severely as I was able, and as long as I could -hold it for want of breath, but forbore his head, because I was -resolved he should feel it. In this condition at last he begged for -mercy, but I was deaf to all pity a great while, till he roared out -like a boy soundly whipped. Then I took his sword from him and broke it -before his face, and left him on the ground, giving him two or three -kicks on the backside, and bade him go and take the law of me if he -thought fit. - -I had now as much satisfaction as indeed could be taken of a coward, -and had no more to say to him; but as I knew it would make a great -noise about the town, I immediately removed my family, and, that I -might be perfectly concealed, went into the north of England, and lived -in a little town called ——, not far from Lancaster, where I lived -retired, and was no more heard of for about two years. My wife, though -more confined than she used to be, and so kept up from the lewd part -which, I believe, in the intervals of her intemperance, she was truly -ashamed of and abhorred, yet retained the drinking part, which -becoming, as I have said, necessary for her subsistence, she soon -ruined her health, and in about a year and a half after my removal into -the north she died. - -Thus I was once more a free man, and, as one would think, should by -this time have been fully satisfied that matrimony was not appointed to -be a state of felicity to me. - -I should have mentioned that the villain of a captain who I had -drubbed, as above, pretended to make a great stir about my assaulting -him on the highway, and that I had fallen upon him with three ruffians, -with an intent to murder him; and this began to obtain belief among the -people in the neighbourhood. I sent him word of so much of it as I had -heard, and told him I hoped it did not come from his own mouth; but if -it did, I expected he would publicly disown it, he himself declaring he -knew it to be false, or else I should be forced to act the same thing -over again, till I had disciplined him into better manners; and that he -might be assured that if he continued to pretend that I had anybody -with me when I caned him, I would publish the whole story in print, -and, besides that, would cane him again wherever I met him, and as -often as I met him, till he thought fit to defend himself with his -sword like a gentleman. - -He gave me no answer to this letter; and the satisfaction I had for -that was, that I gave twenty or thirty copies of it about among the -neighbours, which made it as public as if I had printed it (that is, as -to his acquaintance and mine), and made him so hissed at and hated that -he was obliged to remove into some other part of the town—whither I did -not inquire. - -My wife being now dead, I knew not what course to take in the world, -and I grew so disconsolate and discouraged that I was next door to -being distempered, and sometimes, indeed, I thought myself a little -touched in my head. But it proved nothing but vapours and the vexation -of this affair, and in about a year’s time, or thereabouts, it wore off -again. - -I had rambled up and down in a most discontented, unsettled posture -after this, I say, about a year, and then I considered I had three -innocent children, and I could take no care of them, and that I must -either go away and leave them to the wide world or settle here and get -somebody to look after them, and that better a mother-in-law than no -mother; for to live such a wandering life it would not do; so I -resolved I would marry as anything offered, though it was mean, and the -meaner the better. I concluded my next wife should be only taken as an -upper servant; that is to say, a nurse to my children and housekeeper -to myself; “and let her be whore or honest woman,” said I, “as she -likes best; I am resolved I will not much concern myself about that;” -for I was now one desperate, that valued not how things went. - -In this careless, and indeed rash, foolish humour, I talked to myself -thus: “If I marry an honest woman, my children will be taken care of; -if she be a slut and abuses me, as I see everybody does, I will kidnap -her and send her to Virginia, to my plantations there, and there she -shall work hard enough and fare hard enough to keep her chaste, I’ll -warrant her.” - -I knew well enough at first that these were mad, hare-brained notions, -and I thought no more of being serious in them than I thought of being -a man in the moon; but I know not how it happened to me, I reasoned and -talked to myself in this wild manner so long that I brought myself to -be seriously desperate; that is, to resolve upon another marriage, with -all the suppositions of unhappiness that could be imagined to fall out. - -And yet even this rash resolution of my senses did not come presently -to action; for I was half a year after this before I fixed upon -anything. At last, as he that seeks mischief shall certainly find it, -so it was with me. There happened to be a young, or rather a -middle-aged, woman in the next town, which was but a half-mile off, who -usually was at my house and among my children every day when the -weather was tolerable; and though she came but merely as a neighbour, -and to see us, yet she was always helpful in directing and ordering -things for them, and mighty handy about them, as well before my wife -died as after. - -Her father was one that I employed often to go to Liverpool, and -sometimes to Whitehaven, and do business for me; for having, as it -were, settled myself in the northern parts of England, I had ordered -part of my effects to be shipped, as occasion of shipping offered, to -either of those two towns, to which, the war continuing very sharp, it -was safer coming, as to privateers, than about through the Channel to -London. - -I took a mighty fancy at last that this girl would answer my end, -particularly that I saw she was mighty useful among the children; so, -on the other hand, the children loved her very well, and I resolved to -love her too, flattering myself mightily, that as I had married two -gentlewomen and one citizen, and they proved all three whores, I should -now find what I wanted in an innocent country wench. - -I took up a world of time in considering of this matter; indeed scarce -any of my matches were done without very mature consideration. The -second was the worst in that article, but in this I thought of it, I -believe, four months most seriously before I resolved, and that very -prudence spoiled the whole thing. However, at last being resolved, I -took Mrs. Margaret one day as she passed by my parlour-door, called her -in, and told her I wanted to speak with her. She came readily in, but -blushed mightily when I bade her sit down in a chair just by me. - -I used no great ceremony with her, but told her that I had observed she -had been mighty kind to my children, and was very tender to them, and -that they all loved her, and that, if she and I could agree about it, I -intended to make her their mother, if she was not engaged to somebody -else. The girl sat still and said never a word till I said those words, -“if she was not engaged to somebody else;” when she seemed struck. -However, I took no notice of it, other than this, “Look ye, Moggy,” -said I (so they call them in the country), “if you have promised -yourself, you must tell me.” For we all knew that a young fellow, a -good clergyman’s wicked son, had hung about her a great while, two or -three years, and made love to her, but could never get the girl in the -mind, it seems, to have him. - -She knew I was not ignorant of it, and therefore, after her first -surprise was over, she told me Mr. —— had, as I knew, often come after -her, but she had never promised him anything, and had for several years -refused him; her father always telling her that he was a wicked fellow, -and that he would be her ruin if she had him. - -“Well, Moggy, then,” says I, “what dost say to me? Art thou free to -make me a wife?” She blushed and looked down upon the ground, and would -not speak a good while; but when I pressed her to tell me, she looked -up, and said she supposed I was but jesting with her. Well, I got over -that, and told her I was in very good earnest with her, and I took her -for a sober, honest, modest girl, and, as I said, one that my children -loved mighty well, and I was in earnest with her; if she would give me -her consent, I would give her my word that I would have her, and we -would be married to-morrow morning. She looked up again at that, and -smiled a little, and said no, that was too soon too to say yes. She -hoped I would give her some time to consider of it, and to talk with -her father about it. - -I told her she needed not much time to consider about it; but, however, -I would give her till to-morrow morning, which was a great while. By -this time I had kissed Moggy two or three times, and she began to be -freer with me; and when I pressed her to marry me the next morning, she -laughed, and told me it was not lucky to be married in her old clothes. - -I stopped her mouth presently with that, and told her she should not be -married in her old clothes, for I would give her some new. “Ay, it may -be afterwards,” says Moggy, and laughed again. “No, just now,” says I. -“Come along with me, Moggy;” so I carried her upstairs into my wife’s -room that was, and showed her a new morning-gown of my wife’s, that she -had never worn above two or three times, and several other fine things. -“Look you there, Moggy,” says I, “there is a wedding-gown for you; give -me your hand now that you will have me to-morrow morning. And as to -your father, you know he has gone to Liverpool on my business, but I -will answer for it he shall not be angry when he comes home to call his -master son-in-law; and I ask him no portion. Therefore give me thy hand -for it, Moggy,” says I very merrily to her, and kissed her again; and -the girl gave me her hand, and very pleasantly too, and I was mightily -pleased with it, I assure you. - -There lived about three doors from us an ancient gentleman who passed -for a doctor of physic, but who was really a Romish priest in orders, -as there are many in that part of the country; and in the evening I -sent to speak with him. He knew that I understood his profession, and -that I had lived in popish countries, and, in a word, believed me a -Roman too, for I was such abroad. When he came to me I told him the -occasion for which I sent for him, and that it was to be to-morrow -morning. He readily told me, if I would come and see him in the -evening, and bring Moggy with me, he would marry us in his own study, -and that it was rather more private to do it in the evening than in the -morning. So I called Moggy again to me, and told her, since she and I -had agreed the matter for to-morrow, it was as well to be done -overnight, and told her what the doctor had said. - -Moggy blushed again, and said she must go home first, that she could -not be ready before to-morrow. “Look ye, Moggy,” says I, “you are my -wife now, and you shall never go away from me a maid. I know what you -mean; you would go home to shift you. Come, Moggy,” says I, “come along -with me again upstairs.” So I carried her to a chest of linen, where -were several new shifts of my last wife’s, which she had never worn at -all, and some that had been worn. - -“There is a clean smock for you, Moggy,” says I, “and to-morrow you -shall have all the rest.” When I had done this, “Now, Moggy,” says I, -“go and dress you;” so I locked her in, and went downstairs. “Knock,” -says I, “when you are dressed.” - -After some time Moggy did not knock, but down she came into my room, -completely dressed, for there were several other things that I bade her -take, and the clothes fitted her as if they had been made for her. It -seems she slipped the lock back. - -“Well, Moggy,” says I, “now you see you shan’t be married in your old -clothes;” so I took her in my arms and kissed her; and well pleased I -was as ever I was in my life, or with anything I ever did in my life. -As soon as it was dark Moggy slipped away beforehand, as the doctor and -I had agreed, to the old gentleman’s housekeeper, and I came in about -half-an-hour after; and there we were married in the doctor’s -study—that is to say, in his oratory or chapel, a little room within -his study—and we stayed and supped with him afterwards. - -Then, after a short stay more, I went home first, because I would send -the children all to bed, and the other servants out of the way; and -Moggy came some time after, and so we lay together that night. The next -morning I let all the family know that Moggy was my wife, and my three -children were rejoiced at it to the last degree. And now I was a -married man a fourth time; and, in short, I was really more happy in -this plain country girl than with any of all the wives I had had. She -was not young, being about thirty-three, but she brought me a son the -first year. She was very pretty, well-shaped, and of a merry, cheerful -disposition, but not a beauty. She was an admirable family manager, -loved my former children, and used them not at all the worse for having -some of her own. In a word, she made me an excellent wife, but lived -with me but four years, and died of a hurt she got of a fall while she -was with child, and in her I had a very great loss indeed. - -And yet such was my fate in wives, that, after all the blushing and -backwardness of Mrs. Moggy at first, Mrs. Moggy had, it seems, made a -slip in her younger days, and was got with child ten years before, by a -gentleman of a great estate in that country, who promised her marriage, -and afterwards deserted her. But as that had happened long before I -came into the country, and the child was dead and forgotten, the people -were so good to her, and so kind to me, that, hearing I had married -her, nobody ever spoke of it; neither did I ever hear of it or suspect -it till after she was in her grave, and then it was of small -consequence to me one way or other; and she was a faithful, virtuous, -obliging wife to me. I had very severe affliction indeed while she -lived with me; for the smallpox, a frightful distemper in that country, -broke into my family, and carried off three of my children and a -maid-servant; so that I had only one of my former wife’s, and one by my -Moggy, the first a son, the last a daughter. - -While these things were in agitation came on the invasion of the Scots -and the fight at Preston; and I have cause to bless the memory of my -Moggy; for I was all on fire on that side, and just going away with -horse and arms to join the Lord Derwentwater. But Moggy begged me off -(as I may call it), and hung about me so with her tears and -importunities that I sat still and looked on; for which I had reason to -be thankful. - -I was really a sorrowful father, and the loss of my children stuck -close to me; but the loss of my wife stuck closer to me than all the -rest. Nor was my grief lessened or my kindest thoughts abated in the -least by the account I heard of her former miscarriages, seeing they -were so long before I knew her, and were not discovered by me or to me -in her lifetime. - -All these things put together made me very comfortless. And now I -thought Heaven summoned me to retire to Virginia, the place, and, as I -may say, the only place, I had been blessed at, or had met with -anything that deserved the name of success in, and where, indeed, my -affairs being in good hands, the plantations were increased to such a -degree that some years my return here made up eight hundred pounds, and -one year almost a thousand. So I resolved to leave my native country -once more, and taking my son with me, and leaving Moggy’s daughter with -her grandfather, I made him my principal agent, left him considerable -in his hands for the maintenance of the child, and left my will in his -hand, by which, if I died before I should otherwise provide for her, I -left her £2000 portion, to be paid by my son out of the estate I had in -Virginia, and the whole estate, if he died unmarried. - -I embarked for Virginia in the year ——, at the town of Liverpool, and -had a tolerable voyage thither, only that we met with a pirate ship, in -the latitude of 48 degrees, who plundered us of every thing they could -come at that was for their turn; that is to say, provisions, -ammunition, small-arms, and money. But, to give the rogues their due, -though they were the most abandoned wretches that were ever seen, they -did not use us ill. And as to my loss, it was not considerable; the -cargo which I had on board was in goods, and was of no use to them; nor -could they come at those things without rummaging the whole ship, which -they did not think worth their while. - -I found all my affairs in very good order at Virginia, my plantations -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 ought to remember it, to the encouragement of all faithful servants, -that he gave me an account, which, I believe, was critically just, of -the whole affairs of the plantations, each by themselves, and balanced -in years, every year’s produce being fully transmitted, charges -deducted, to my order at London. - -I was exceedingly satisfied, as I had good reason indeed, with his -management; and with his management, as much in its degree, of his own -I can safely say it. He had improved a very large plantation of his own -at the same time, which he began upon the foot of the country’s -allowance of land and the encouragement he had from me. - -When he had given me all this pleasing, agreeable account, you will not -think it strange that I had a desire to see the plantations, and to -view all the servants, which, in both the works, were upwards of three -hundred; and as my tutor generally bought some every fleet that came -from England, 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 slavery, which to gentlemen -must be worse than death. - -I do not mention what I did or said relating to them here. I shall -speak at large of it when the rest of them came over, which more nearly -concerned me. - -But one circumstance occurred to me here that equally surprised me and -terrified me to the last degree. Looking over all the servants, as I -say above, and viewing the plantations narrowly and frequently, I came -one day by a place where some women were at work by themselves. I was -seriously reflecting on the misery of human life, when I saw some of -those poor wretches. Thought I, “They have perhaps lived gay and -pleasantly in the world, notwithstanding, through a variety of -distresses, they may have been brought to this; and if a body was to -hear the history of some of them now, it would perhaps be as moving and -as seasonable a sermon as any minister in the country could preach.” - -While I was musing thus and looking at the women, on a sudden I heard a -combustion among other of the women-servants, who were almost behind -me, in the same work, and help was called loudly for, one of the women -having swooned away. They said she would die immediately if something -was not done to relieve her. I had nothing about me but a little -bottle, which we always carried about us there with rum, to give any -servant a dram that merited that favour; so I turned my horse and went -up towards the place. But as the poor creature was lying flat on the -ground, and the rest of the women-servants about her, I did not see -her, but gave them the bottle, and they rubbed her temples with it, -and, with much ado, brought her to life, and gave her a little to -drink. But she could drink none of it, and was exceeding ill -afterwards, so that she was carried to the infirmary—so they call it in -the religious houses in Italy where the sick nuns and friars are -carried; but here, in Virginia, I think they should call it the -condemned hole, for it really was only a place just fit for people to -die in, not a place to be cured in. - -The sick woman refusing to drink, one of the women-servants brought me -the bottle again, and I bade them drink it among them, which had almost -set them together by the ears for the liquor, there being not enough to -give every one a sup. - -I went home to my house immediately, and reflecting on the miserable -provision was wont to be made for poor servants when they were sick, I -inquired of my manager if it was so still. He said he believed mine was -better than any in the country; but he confessed it was but sad -lodging. However, he said he would go and look after it immediately and -see how it was. - -He came to me again about an hour after, and told me the woman was very -ill, and frighted with her condition; that she seemed to be very -penitent for some things in her past life, which lay heavy upon her -mind, believing she should die; that she asked him if there was no -minister to comfort poor dying servants; and he told her that she knew -they had no minister nearer than such a place, but that, if she lived -till morning, he should be sent for. He told me, also, that he had -removed her into a room where their chief workman used to lodge; that -he had given her a pair of sheets, and everything he could that he -thought she wanted, and had appointed another woman-servant to tend her -and sit up with her. - -“Well,” says I, “that’s well; for I cannot bear to have poor creatures -lie and perish, by the mere hardship of the place they are in, when -they are sick and want help. Besides,” said I, “some of those -unfortunate creatures they call convicts may be peopie that have been -tenderly brought up.” “Really, sir,” says he, “this poor creature, I -always said, had something of a gentlewoman in her. I could see it by -her behaviour, and I have heard the other women say that she lived very -great once, and that she had fifteen hundred pound to her portion; and -I dare say she has been a handsome woman in her time, and she has a -hand as fine as a lady’s now, though it be tanned with the weather. I -dare say she was never brought up to labour as she does here, and she -says to the rest that it will kill her.” - -“Truly,” says I, “it may be so, and that may be the reason that she -faints under it;” and I added, “Is there nothing you can put her to -within doors that may not be so laborious and expose her to so much -heat and cold?” He told me yes, there was. He could set her to be the -housekeeper, for the woman that lately was such was out of her time, -and was married and turned planter. “Why, then, let her have it,” said -I, “if she recovers; and in the meantime go,” said I, “and tell her so; -perhaps the comfort of it may help to restore her.” - -He did so, and with that, taking good care of her, and giving her good -warm diet, the woman recovered, and in a little time was abroad again; -for it was the mere weight of labour, and being exposed to hard lodging -and mean diet, to one so tenderly bred, that struck her and she fainted -at her work. - -When she was made housekeeper she was quite another body. She put all -the household into such excellent order, and managed their provisions -so well, that my tutor admired her conduct, and would be every now and -then speaking of her to me, that she was an excellent manager. “I’ll -warrant,” says he, “she has been bred a gentlewoman, and she has been a -fine woman in her time too.” In a word, he said so many good things of -her that I had a mind to see her. So one day I took occasion to go to -the plantation-house, as they called it, and into a parlour always -reserved for the master of the plantation. There she had opportunity to -see me before I could see her, and as soon as she had seen me she knew -me; but indeed had I seen her an hundred times I should not have known -her. She was, it seems, in the greatest confusion and surprise at -seeing who I was that it was possible for any one to be; and when I -ordered my manager to bring her into the room, he found her crying, and -begged him to excuse her, that she was frighted, and should die away if -she came near me. - -I, not imagining anything but that the poor creature was afraid of me -(for masters in Virginia are terrible things), bade him tell her she -need to be under no concern at my calling for her; for it was not for -any hurt nor for any displeasure, but that I had some orders to give -her. So, having, as he thought, encouraged her, though her surprise was -of another kind, he brought her in. When she came in she held a -handkerchief in her hand, wiping her eyes, as if she had cried. “Mrs. -Housekeeper,” said I, speaking cheerfully to her, “don’t be concerned -at my sending for you; I have had a very good account of your -management, and I called for you to let you know I am very well pleased -with it; and if it falls in my way to do you any good, if your -circumstances will allow it, I may be willing enough to help you out of -your misery.” - -She made low courtesies, but said nothing. However, she was so far -encouraged that she took her hand from her face, and I saw her face -fully; and I believe she did it desiring I should discover who she was; -but I really knew nothing of her, any more than if I had never seen her -in my life, but went on, as I thought, to encourage her, as I used to -do with any that I saw deserved it. - -In the meantime my tutor, who was in the room, went out on some -business or other—I know not what. As soon as he was gone she burst out -into a passion, and fell down on her knees just before me: “Oh, sir!” -says she, “I see you don’t know me. Be merciful to me; I am your -miserable divorced wife!” - -I was astonished; I was frighted; I trembled like one in an ague; I was -speechless; in a word, I was ready to sink, and she fell flat on her -face, and lay there as if she had been dead. I was speechless, I say, -as a stone. I had only presence of mind enough to step to the door and -fasten it, that my tutor might not come in; then, going back to her, I -took her up and spoke comfortably to her, and told her I no more knew -her than if I had never seen her. - -“Oh, sir!” said she, “afflictions are dreadful things; such as I have -suffered have been enough to alter my countenance; but forgive,” said -she, “for God’s sake, the injuries I have done you. I have paid dear -for all my wickedness, and it is just, it is righteous, that God should -bring me to your foot, to ask your pardon for all my brutish doings. -Forgive me, sir,” said she, “I beseech you, and let me be your slave or -servant for it as long as I live; it is all I ask;” and with those -words she fell upon her knees again and cried so vehemently that it was -impossible for her to stop it or to speak a word more. I took her up -again, made her sit down, desired her to compose herself, and to hear -what I was going to say; though indeed it touched me so sensibly that I -was hardly able to speak any more than she was. - -First, I told her it was such a surprise to me that I was not able to -say much to her; and indeed the tears run down my face almost as fast -as they did on hers. I told her that I should only tell her now, that, -as nobody had yet known anything that had passed, so it was absolutely -necessary not a word of it should be known; that it should not be the -worse for her that she was thus thrown in my hands again; but that I -could do nothing for her if it was known, and, therefore, that her -future good or ill fortune would depend upon her entire concealing it; -that, as my manager would come in again presently, she should go back -to her part of the house, and go on in the business as she did before; -that I would come to her and talk more at large with her in a day or -two. So she retired, after assuring me that not a word of it should go -out of her mouth; and indeed she was willing to retire before my tutor -came again, that he might not see the agony she was in. - -I was so perplexed about this surprising incident that I hardly knew -what I did or said all that night; nor was I come to any settled -resolution in the morning what course to take in it. However, in the -morning I called my tutor, and told him that I had been exceedingly -concerned about the poor distressed creature, the housekeeper; that I -had heard some of her story, which was very dismal; that she had been -in very good circumstances and was bred very well, and that I was glad -he had removed her out of the field into the house; but still she was -almost naked, and that I would have him go down to the warehouse and -give her some linen, especially head-clothes, and all sorts of small -things such as hoods, gloves, stockings, shoes, petticoats, &c., and to -let her choose for herself; also a morning-gown of calico, and a mantua -of a better kind of calico; that is to say, new clothe her; which he -did, but brought me word that he found her all in tears, and that she -had cried all night long, and, in short, he believed she would indeed -cry herself to death; that all the while she was receiving the things -he gave her she cried; that now and then she would struggle with and -stop it, but that then, upon another word speaking, she would burst out -again, so that it grieved everybody that saw her. - -I was really affected with her case very much, but struggled hard with -myself to hide it, and turned the discourse to something else. In the -meantime, though I did not go to her the next day, nor till the third -day, yet I studied day and night how to act, and what I should do in -this remarkable case. - -When I came to the house, which was the third day, she came into the -room I was in, clothed all over with my things which I had ordered her, -and told me she thanked God she was now my servant again and wore my -livery, thanked me for the clothes I had sent her, and said it was much -more than she had deserved from me. - -I then entered into discourses with her, nobody being present but -ourselves; and first I told her she should name no more of the unkind -things that had passed, for she had humbled herself more than enough on -that subject, and I would never reproach her with anything that was -past. I found that she had been the deepest sufferer by far. I told her -it was impossible for me, in my present circumstances, to receive her -there as a wife who came over as a convict, neither did she know so -little as to desire it; but I told her I might be instrumental to put -an end to her misfortunes in the world, and especially to the miserable -part of it which was her present load, provided she could effectually -keep her own counsel and never let the particulars come out of her -mouth, and that from the day she did she might date her irrevocable -ruin. - -She was as sensible of the necessity of that part as I was, and told me -all she could claim of me would be only to deliver her from her present -calamity that she was not able to support; and that then, if I pleased, -she might live such a life as that she might apply the residue of what -time she should have wholly to repentance; that she was willing to do -the meanest offices in the world for me; and though she should rejoice -to hear that I would forgive her former life, yet that she would not -look any higher than to be my servant as long as she lived; and, in the -meantime, I might be satisfied she would never let any creature so much -as know that I had ever seen her before. - -I asked her if she was willing to let me into any part of the history -of her life since she and I parted; but I did not insist upon it -otherwise than as she thought convenient. She said, as her breach with -me began first in folly and ended in sin, so her whole life afterwards -was a continued series of calamity, sin and sorrow, sin and shame, and -at last misery; that she was deluded into gay company and to an -expensive way of living which betrayed her to several wicked courses to -support the expenses of it; that after a thousand distresses and -difficulties, being not able to maintain herself, she was reduced to -extreme poverty; that she would many times have humbled herself to me -in the lowest and most submissive manner in the world, being sincerely -penitent for her first crime, but that she could never hear of me, nor -which way I was gone; that she was by that means so abandoned that she -wanted bread, and those wants and distresses brought her into bad -company of another kind, and that she fell in among a gang of thieves, -with whom she herded for some time, and got money enough a great while, -but under the greatest dread and terror imaginable, being in the -constant fear of coming to shame; that afterwards what she feared was -come upon her, and for a very trifling attempt in which she was not -principal, but accidentally concerned, she was sent to this place. She -told me her life was such a collection of various fortunes—up and down, -in plenty and in misery, in prison and at liberty, at ease and in -torment—that it would take up a great many days to give me a history of -it; that I was come to see the end of it, as I had seen the best part -of the beginning; that I knew she was brought up tenderly and fared -delicately; but that now she was, with the prodigal, brought to desire -husks with swine, and even to want that supply. Her tears flowed so -strongly upon this discourse that they frequently interrupted her, so -that she could not go on without difficulty, and at last could not go -on at all. So I told her I would excuse her telling any more of her -story at that time; that I saw it was but a renewing of her grief, and -that I would rather contribute to her forgetting what was past, and -desired her to say no more of it; so I broke off that part. - -In the meantime I told her, since Providence had thus cast her upon my -hands again, I would take care that she should not want, and that she -should not live hardly neither, though I could go no further at -present; and thus we parted for that time, and she continued in the -business of housekeeper; only that, to ease her, I gave her an -assistant; and, though I would not have it called so, it was neither -more or less than a servant to wait on her and do everything for her; -and told her, too, that it was so. - -After she had been some time in this place she recovered her spirits -and grew cheerful; her fallen flesh plumped up, and the sunk and hollow -parts filled again, so that she began to recover something of that -brightness and charming countenance which was once so very agreeable to -me; and sometimes I could not help having warm desires towards her, and -of taking her into her first station again; but there were many -difficulties occurred which I could not get over a great while. - -But in the meantime another odd accident happened which put me to a -very great difficulty, and more than I could have thought such a thing -could be capable of. My tutor, a man of wit and learning, and full of -generous principles, who was at first moved with compassion for the -misery of this gentlewoman, and, even then, thought there were some -things more than common in her, as I have hinted; now when, as I say, -she was recovered, and her sprightly temper restored and comforted, he -was charmed so with her conversation that, in short, he fell in love -with her. - -I hinted in my former account of her that she had a charming tongue, -was mistress of abundance of wit, that she sung incomparably fine, and -was perfectly well-bred. These all remained with her still, and made -her a very agreeable person; and, in short, he came to me one evening -and told me that he came to ask my leave to let him marry the -housekeeper. - -I was exceedingly perplexed at this proposal, but, however, I gave him -no room to perceive that. I told him I hoped he had considered well of -it before he brought it so far as to offer it to me, and supposed that -he had agreed that point so that I had no consent to give, but as she -had almost four years of her time to serve. - -He answered no; he paid such a regard to me that he would not so much -as take one step in such a thing without my knowledge, and assured me -he had not so much as mentioned it to her. I knew not what answer -indeed to make to him, but at last I resolved to put it off from myself -to her, because then I should have opportunity to talk with her -beforehand. So I told him he was perfectly free to act in the matter as -he thought fit; that I could not say either one thing or another to it, -neither had I any right to meddle in it. As to her serving out her time -with me, that was a trifle, and not worth naming, but I hoped he would -consider well every circumstance before he entered upon such an affair -as that. - -He told me he had fully considered it already, and that he was -resolved, seeing I was not against it, to have her whatever came of it, -for he believed he should be the happiest man alive with her. Then he -ran on in his character of her, how clever a woman she was in the -management of all manner of business, how admirable conversation she -was, what a wit, what a memory, what a vast share of knowledge, and the -like; all which I knew to be the truth, and yet short of her just -character too; for, as she was all that formerly when she was mine, she -was vastly improved in the school of affliction, and was all the bright -part, with a vast addition of temper, prudence, judgment, and all that -she formerly wanted. - -I had not much patience, as you may well imagine, till I saw my honest -housekeeper, to communicate this secret to her, and to see what course -she would steer on so nice an occasion. But I was suddenly taken so ill -with a cold which held for two days that I could not stir out of doors; -and in this time the matter was all done and over; for my tutor had -gone the same night and made his attack; but was coldly received at -first, which very much surprised him, for he made no doubt to have her -consent at first word. However, the next day he came again, and again -the third day, when, finding he was in earnest, and yet that she could -not think of anything of that kind, she told him, in few words, that -she thought herself greatly obliged to him for such a testimony of his -respect to her, and should have embraced it willingly, as anybody would -suppose one in her circumstances should do, but that she would not -abuse him so much, for that she must acknowledge to him she was under -obligations that prevented her; that was, in short, that she was a -married woman and had a husband alive. - -This was so sincere but so effectual an answer that he could have no -room to reply one word to it, but that he was very sorry, and that it -was a very great affliction to him, and as great a disappointment as -ever he met with. - -The next day after he had received this repulse I came to the -plantation-house, and, sending for the housekeeper, I began with her, -and told her that I understood she would have a very advantageous -proposal made to her, and that I would have her consider well of it, -and then told her what my tutor had said to me. - -She immediately fell a-crying, at which I seemed to wonder very much. -“Oh, sir!” says she, “how can you name such a thing to me?” I told her -that I could name it the better to her because I had been married -myself since I parted from her. “Yes, sir,” says she; “but the case -alters; the crime being on my side, I ought not to marry; but,” says -she, “that is not the reason at all, but I cannot do it.” I pretended -to press her to it, though not sincerely, I must acknowledge, for my -heart had turned toward her for some time, and I had fully forgiven her -in my mind all her former conduct; but, I say, I seemed to press her to -it, at which she burst out in a passion. “No, no,” says she; “let me be -your slave rather than the best man’s wife in the world.” I reasoned -with her upon her circumstances, and how such a marriage would restore -her to a state of ease and plenty, and none in the world might ever -know or suspect who or what she had been. But she could not bear it; -but, with tears, again raising her voice that I was afraid she would be -heard, “I beseech you,” says she, “do not speak of it any more. I was -once yours, and I will never belong to any man else in the world. Let -me be as I am, or anything else you please to make me, but not a wife -to any man alive but yourself.” - -I was so moved with the passion she was in at speaking this that I knew -not what I said or did for some time. At length I said to her, “It is a -great pity you had not long ago been as sincere as you are now; it had -been better for us both. However, as it is, you shall not be forced to -anything against your mind, nor shall you be the worse treated for -refusing; but how will you put him off? No doubt he expects you will -receive his proposal as an advantage; and as he sees no farther into -your circumstances, so it is.” “Oh, sir!” says she, “I have done all -that already. He has his answer, and is fully satisfied. He will never -trouble you any more on that head;” and then she told me what answer -she had given him. - -From that minute I resolved that I would certainly take her again to be -my wife as before. I thought she had fully made me amends for her -former ill conduct, and she deserved to be forgiven (and so indeed she -did, if ever woman did, considering also what dreadful penance she had -undergone, and how long she had lived in misery and distress); and that -Providence had, as it were, cast her upon me again, and, above all, had -given her such an affection to me and so resolved a mind that she could -refuse so handsome an offer of deliverance rather than be farther -separated from me. - -As I resolved this in my mind, so I thought it was cruel to conceal it -any longer from her. Nor, in deed, could I contain myself any longer, -but I took her in my arms: “Well,” says I, “you have given me such a -testimony of affection in this that I can no longer withstand. I -forgive you all that ever was between us on this account, and, since -you will be nobody’s but mine, you shall be mine again as you were at -first.” - -But this was too much for her the other way, and now she was so far -overcome with my yielding to her that, had she not got vent to her -passion by the most vehement crying, she must have died in my arms; and -I was forced to let her go and set her down in a chair, where she cried -for a quarter of an hour before she could speak a word. - -When she was come to herself enough to talk again, I told her we must -consider of a method how to bring this to pass, and that it must not be -done by publishing there that she was my wife before, for that would -expose us both, but that I would openly marry her again. This she -agreed was very rational, and accordingly, about two months after, we -were married again, and no man in the world ever enjoyed a better wife -or lived more happy than we both did for several years after. - -And now I began to think my fortunes were settled for this world, and I -had nothing before me but to finish a life of infinite variety, such as -mine had been, with a comfortable retreat, being both made wiser by our -sufferings and difficulties, and able to judge for ourselves what kind -of life would be best adapted to our present circumstances, and in what -station we might look upon ourselves to be most completely happy. - -But man is a short-sighted creature at best, and in nothing more than -in that of fixing his own felicity, or, as we may say, choosing for -himself. One would have thought, and so my wife often suggested to me, -that the state of life that I was now in was as perfectly calculated to -make a man completely happy as any private station in the world could -be. We had an estate more than sufficient, and daily increasing, for -the supporting any state or figure that in that place we could propose -to ourselves or even desire to live in; we had everything that was -pleasant and agreeable, without the least mortification in any -circumstances of it; every sweet thing, and nothing to embitter it; -every good, and no mixture of evil with it; nor any gap open where we -could have the least apprehensions of any evil breaking out upon us. -Nor indeed was it easy for either of us, in our phlegmatic, melancholy -notions, to have the least imagination how anything disastrous could -happen to us in the common course of things, unless something should -befall us out of the ordinary way of Providence, or of its acting in -the world. - -But, an unseen mine blew up all this apparent tranquillity at once; and -though it did not remove my affairs there from me, yet it effectually -removed me from them and sent me a-wandering into the world again—a -condition full of hazards, and always attended with circumstances -dangerous to mankind, while he is left to choose his own fortunes and -be guided by his own short-sighted measures. - -I must now return to a circumstance of my history which had been past -for some time, and which relates to my conduct while I was last in -England. - -I mentioned how my faithful wife Moggy, with her tears and her -entreaties, had prevailed with me not to play the madman and openly -join in the rebellion with the late Lord Derwentwater and his party -when they entered Lancashire, and thereby, as I may say, saved my life. -But my curiosity prevailed so much at last that I gave her the slip -when they came to Preston, and at least thought I would go and look at -them, and see what they were likely to come to. - -My former wife’s importunities, as above, had indeed prevailed upon me -from publicly embarking in that enterprise and joining openly with them -in arms; and by this, as I have observed, she saved my life to be sure, -because I had then publicly espoused the rebellion, and had been known -to have been among them, which might have been as fatal to me -afterwards, though I had not been taken in the action, as if I had. - -But when they advanced and came nearer to us to Preston, and there -appeared a greater spirit among the people in their favour, my old -doctor, whom I mentioned before, who was a Romish priest, and had -married us, inspired me with new zeal, and gave me no rest till he -obliged me, with only a good horse and arms, to join them the day -before they entered Preston, he himself venturing in the same posture -with me. - -I was not so public here as to be very well known, at least by any one -that had knowledge of me in the country where I lived; and this was -indeed my safety afterwards, as you will soon hear. But yet I was known -too among the men, especially among the Scots, with some of whom I had -been acquainted in foreign service. With these I was particularly -conversant, and, passing for a French officer, I talked to them of -making a select detachment to defend the pass between Preston and the -river and bridge, upon maintaining which, as I insisted, depended the -safety of the whole party. - -It was with some warmth that I spoke of that affair, and as I passed -among them, I say, for a French officer and a man of experience, it -caused several debates among them. But the hint was not followed, as is -well known, and from that moment I gave them all up as lost, and -meditated nothing but how to escape from them, which I effected the -night before they were surrounded by the royal cavalry. I did not do -this without great difficulty, swimming the river Ribble at a place -where, though I got well over, yet I could not for a long while get to -a place where my horse could land himself—that is to say, where the -ground was firm enough for him to take the land. However, at length I -got on shore, and riding very hard, came the next evening in sight of -my own dwelling. Here, after lying by in a wood till the depth of -night, I shot my horse in a little kind of a gravel pit, or marl pit, -where I soon covered him with earth for the present, and marching all -alone, I came about two in the morning to my house, where my wife, -surprised with joy and yet terribly frighted, let me in; and then I -took immediate measures to secure myself upon whatever incident might -happen, but which, as things were ordered, I had no need to make use -of, for the rebels being entirely defeated, and either all killed or -taken prisoners, I was not known by anybody in the country to have been -among them; no, nor so much as suspected. And thus I made a narrow -escape from the most dangerous action, and most foolishly embarked in, -of any that I had ever been engaged in before. - -It was very lucky to me that I killed and buried my horse, for he would -have been taken two days after, and would, to be sure, have been known -by those who had seen me upon him at Preston. But now, as none knew I -had been abroad, nor any such circumstance could discover me, I kept -close, and as my excursion had been short and I had not been missed by -any of my neighbours, if anybody came to speak with me, behold I was at -home. - -However, I was not thoroughly easy in my mind, and secretly wished I -was in my own dominions in Virginia, to which, in a little time, other -circumstances occurring, I made preparations to remove with my whole -family. - -In the meantime, as above, the action at Preston happened, and the -miserable people surrendered to the king’s troops. Some were executed -for examples, as in such cases is usual, and the government extending -mercy to the multitude, they were kept in Chester Castle, and other -places a considerable time, till they were disposed of, some one way, -some another, as we shall hear. - -Several hundreds of them after this were, at their own request, -transported, as it is vulgarly expressed, to the plantations—that is to -say, sent to Virginia and other British colonies to be sold after the -usual manner of condemned criminals, or, as we call them there, -convicts, to serve a limited time in the country, and then be made -freemen again. Some of these I have spoken of above; but now, to my no -little uneasiness, I found, after I had been there some time, two ships -arrived with more of these people in the same river where all my -plantations lay. - -I no sooner heard of it but the first step I took was to resolve to let -none of them be bought into my work or to any of my plantations; and -this I did, pretending that I would not make slaves every day of -unfortunate gentlemen who fell into that condition for their zeal to -their party only, and the like. But the true reason was, that I -expected several of them would know me, and might perhaps betray me, -and make it public that I was one of the same sort, but had made my -escape; and so I might be brought into trouble, and, if I came off with -my life, might have all my effects seized on, and be reduced to misery -and poverty again at once, all which I thought I had done enough to -deserve. - -This was a just caution, but, as I found quickly, was not a sufficient -one, as my circumstances stood, for my safety; for though I bought none -of these poor men myself, yet several of my neighbours did, and there -was scarce a plantation near me but had some of them, more or less, -among them; so that, in a word, I could not peep abroad hardly but I -was in danger to be seen, and known too, by some or other of them. - -I may be allowed to say that this was a very uneasy life to me, and -such that, in short, I found myself utterly unable to bear; for I was -now reduced from a great man, a magistrate, a governor or master of -three great plantations, and having three or four hundred servants at -my command, to be a poor self-condemned rebel, and durst not show my -face; and that I might with the same safety, or rather more, have -skulked about in Lancashire where I was, or gone up to London and -concealed myself there till things had been over. But now the danger -was come home to me, even to my door, and I expected nothing but to be -informed against every day, be taken up, and sent to England in irons, -and have all my plantations seized on as a forfeited estate to the -Crown. - -I had but one hope of safety to trust to, and that was, that having -been so little a while among them, done nothing for them, and passing -for a stranger, they never knew my name, but only I was called the -French colonel, or the French officer, or the French gentleman by most, -if not by all, the people here. And as for the doctor that went with -me, he had found means to escape too, though not the same way that I -did, finding the cause not likely to be supported, and that the king’s -troops were gathering on all sides round them like a cloud. - -But to return to myself; this was no satisfaction to me, and what to do -I really knew not, for I was more at a loss how to shift in such a -distressed case as this, now it lay so close to me, than ever I was in -any difficulty in my life. The first thing I did was to come home and -make a confidence of the whole affair to my wife; and though I did it -generously without conditions, yet I did not do it without first -telling her how I was now going to put my life into her hands, that she -might have it in her power to pay me home for all that she might think -had been hard in my former usage of her; and that, in short, it would -be in her power to deliver me up into the hands of my enemies, but that -I would trust her generosity, as well as her renewed affection, and put -all upon her fidelity, and without any more precaution I opened the -whole thing to her, and particularly the danger I was now in. - -A faithful counsellor is life from the dead, gives courage where the -heart is sinking, and raises the mind to a proper use of means; and -such she was to me indeed upon every step of this affair, and it was by -her direction that I took every step that followed for the extricating -myself out of this labyrinth. - -“Come, come, my dear,” says she, “if this be all, there is no room for -any such disconsolate doings as your fears run you upon;” for I was -immediately for selling off my plantations and all my stock and -embarking myself forthwith, and to get to Madeira or to any place out -of the king’s dominions. - -But my wife was quite of another opinion, and encouraging me on another -account, proposed two things, either my freighting a sloop with -provisions to the West Indies, and so taking passage from thence to -London, or letting her go away directly for England and endeavour to -obtain the king’s pardon, whatever it might cost. - -I inclined to the last proposal; for though I was unhappily prejudiced -in favour of a wrong interest, yet I had always a secret and right -notion of the clemency and merciful disposition of his Majesty, and, -had I been in England, should, I believe, have been easily persuaded to -have thrown myself at his foot. - -But going to England as I was circumstanced must have been a public -action, and I must have made all the usual preparations for it, must -have appeared in public, have stayed till the crop was ready, and gone -away in form and state as usual, or have acted as if something -extraordinary was the matter, and have filled the heads of the people -there with innumerable suggestions of they knew not what. - -But my wife made all this easy to me from her own invention; for, -without acquainting me of any thing, she comes merrily to me one -morning before I was up: “My dear,” says she, “I am very sorry to hear -that you are not very well this morning. I have ordered Pennico” (that -was a young negro girl which I had given her) “to make you a fire in -your chamber, and pray lie still where you are a while till it is -done.” At the same instant the little negro came in with wood and a -pair of bellows, &c., to kindle the fire, and my wife, not giving me -time to reply, whispers close to my ear to lie still and say nothing -till she came up again to me. - -I was thoroughly frighted, that you may be sure of, and thought of -nothing but of being discovered, betrayed, and carried to England, -hanged, quartered, and all that was terrible, and my very heart sunk -within me. She perceived my disorder and turned back, assuring me there -was no harm, desired me to be easy, and she would come back again -presently and give me satisfaction in every particular that I could -desire. So I composed myself a while as well as I could, but it was but -a little while that I could bear it, and I sent Pennico downstairs to -find out her mistress, and tell her I was very ill and must speak with -her immediately; and the girl was scarce out of the room before I -jumped out of bed and began to dress me, that I might be ready for all -events. - -My wife was as good as her word, and was coming up as the girl was -coming down. “I see,” says she, “you want patience, but pray do not -want government of yourself, but take that screen before your face, and -go to the window and see if you know any of those Scotchmen that are in -the yard, for there are seven or eight of them come about some business -to your clerk.” - -I went and looked through the screen, and saw the faces of them all -distinctly, but could make nothing of them other than that they were -Scotchmen, which was easy to discern. However, it was no satisfaction -to me that I knew not their faces, for they might know mine for all -that, according to the old English proverb, “That more knows Tom Fool -than Tom Fool knows;” so I kept close in my chamber till I understood -they were all gone. - -After this my wife caused it to be given out in the house that I was -not well; and when this not being well had lasted three or four days, I -had my leg wrapped up in a great piece of flannel and laid upon a -stool, and there I was lame of the gout; and this served for about six -weeks, when my wife told me she had given it out that my gout was -rather rheumatic than a settled gout, and that I was resolved to take -one of my own sloops and go away to Nevis or Antigua, and use the hot -baths there for my cure. - -All this was very well, and I approved my wife’s contrivance as -admirably good, both to keep me within doors eight or ten weeks at -first, and to convey me away afterwards without any extraordinary -bustle to be made about it; but still I did not know what it all tended -to, and what the design of it all was. But my wife desired me to leave -that to her; so I readily did, and she carried it all on with a -prudence not to be disputed; and after she had wrapped my legs in -flannel almost three months, she came and told me the sloop was ready -and all the goods put on board. “And now, my dear,” says she, “I come -to tell you all the rest of my design; for,” added she, “I hope you -will not think I am going to kidnap you, and transport you from -Virginia, as other people are transported to it, or that I am going to -get you sent away and leave myself in possession of your estate; but -you shall find me the same faithful, humble creature which I should -have been if I had been still your slave, and not had any hopes of -being your wife, and that in all my scheme which I have laid for your -safety, in this new exigence, I have not proposed your going one step -but where I shall go and be always with you, to assist and serve you on -all occasions, and to take my portion with you, of what kind soever our -lot may be.” - -This was so generous, and so handsome a declaration of her fidelity, -and so great a token, too, of the goodness of her judgment in -considering of the things which were before her, and of what my present -circumstances called for, that, from that time forward, I gave myself -cheerfully up to her management without any hesitation in the least, -and after about ten days’ preparation we embarked in a large sloop of -my own of about sixty tons. - -I should have mentioned here that I had still my faithful tutor, as I -called him, at the head of my affairs; and, as he knew who to -correspond with, and how to manage the correspondence in England, we -left all that part to him, as I had done before; and I did this with a -full satisfaction in his ability as well as in his integrity. It is -true he had been a little chagrined in that affair of my wife, who, as -I hinted before, had married me, after telling him, in answer to his -solicitations, that she had a husband alive. Now, though this was -literally true, yet, as it was a secret not fit to be opened to him, I -was obliged to put him off with other reasons, as well as I could, -perhaps not much to the purpose, and perhaps not much to his -satisfaction, so that I reckoned he looked on himself as not very -kindly used several ways. But he began to get over it, and to be easy, -especially at our going away, when he found that the trust of -everything was still left in his hands as it was before. - -When my wife had thus communicated everything of the voyage to me, and -we began to be ready to go off, she came to me one morning, and, with -her usual cheerfulness, told me she now came to tell me the rest of her -measures for the completing my deliverance; and this was, that while we -made this trip, as she called it, to the hot springs at Nevis, she -would write to a particular friend at London, whom she could depend -upon, to try to get a pardon for a person on account of the late -rebellion, with all the circumstances which my case was attended with, -viz., of having acted nothing among them but being three days in the -place; and, while we were thus absent, she did not question but to have -an answer, which she would direct to come so many ways that we would be -sure to have the first of it as soon as it was possible the vessels -could go and come. And in the meantime the expense should be very -small, for she would have an answer to the grand question first, -whether it could be obtained or no; and then an account of the expense -of it, that so I might judge for myself whether I would part with the -needful sum or no, before any money was disbursed on my account. - -I could not but be thoroughly satisfied with her contrivance in this -particular, and I had nothing to add to it but that I would not have -her limit her friend so strictly, but that if he saw the way clear, and -that he was sure to obtain it, he should go through stitch with it, if -within the expense of two or three or four hundred pounds, and that, -upon advice of its being practicable, he should have bills payable by -such a person on delivery of the warrant for the thing. - -To fortify this, I enclosed in her packet a letter to one of my -correspondents, whom I could particularly trust, with a credit for the -money, on such-an-such conditions; but the honesty and integrity of my -wife’s correspondence was such as prevented all the expense, and yet I -had the wished-for security, as if it had been all paid, as you shall -hear presently. - -All these things being fixed to our minds, and all things left behind -in good posture of settlement as usual, we embarked together and put to -sea, having the opportunity of an English man-of-war being on the coast -in pursuit of the pirates, and who was just then standing away towards -the Gulf of Florida, and told us he would see us safe as far as New -Providence, on the Bahama Islands. - -And now having fair weather and a pleasant voyage, and my flannels -taken off my legs, I must hint a little what cargo I had with me; for -as my circumstances were very good in that country, so I did not go -such a voyage as this, and with a particular reserve of fortunes -whatever might afterwards happen, without a sufficient cargo for our -support, and whatever exigence might happen. - -Our sloop, as I said, was of about sixty or seventy tons; and as -tobacco, which is the general produce of the country, was no -merchandise at Nevis, that is to say, for a great quantity, so we -carried very little, but loaded the sloop with corn, peas, meal, and -some barrels of pork; and an excellent cargo it was, most of it being -the produce of my own plantation. We took also a considerable sum of -money with us in Spanish gold, which was, as above, not for trade, but -for all events. I also ordered another sloop to be hired, and to be -sent after me, loaden with the same goods, as soon as they should have -advice from me that I was safe arrived. - -We came to the latitude of the island of Antigua, which was very near -to that of Nevis, whither we intended to go, on the eighteenth day -after our passing the Capes of Virginia, but had no sight of the -island; only our master said he was sure if he stood the same course as -he then was, and the gale held, I say he told me he was sure he should -make the island in less than five hours’ sail; so he stood on fair for -the islands. However, his account had failed him, for we held on all -the evening, made no land, and likewise all night, when in the grey of -the morning we discovered from the topmast-head a brigantine and a -sloop making sail after us, at the distance of about six leagues, fair -weather, and the wind fresh at S.E. - -Our master soon understood what they were, and came down into the cabin -to me to let me know it. I was much surprised, you may be sure, at the -danger, but my poor wife took from me all the concern for myself to -take care of her, for she was frighted to that degree that I thought we -should not have been able to keep life in her. - -While we were thus under the first hurry and surprise of the thing, -suddenly another noise from the deck called us up to look out, and that -was, “Land! land!” The master and I—for by this time I had got out of -my cabin—run upon the deck, and there we saw the state of our case very -plain. The two rogues that stood after us laid on all the canvas they -could carry, and crowded after us amain, but at the distance, as I have -said, of about six leagues, rather more than less. On the other hand, -the land discovered lay about nine leagues right ahead, so that if the -pirates could get of us, so as to sail three feet for our two, it was -evident they would be up with us before we could make the island. If -not, we should escape them and get in; but even then we had no great -hope to do any more than to run the ship ashore to save our lives, and -so, stranding our vessel, spoil both sloop and cargo. - -When we were making this calculation our master came in cheerfully, and -told me he had crowded on more sail, and found the sloop carried it -very well, and that he did not find the rogues gained much upon us, and -that especially if one of them did not, that was the sloop, he found he -could go away from the brigantine as he pleased. Thus we gave them what -they call a stern chase, and they worked hard to come up with us till -towards noon, when on a sudden they both stood away and gave us over, -to our great satisfaction you may be sure. - -We did not, it seems, so easily see the occasion of our deliverance as -the pirate did; for while we went spooning away large with the wind for -one of the islands, with those two spurs in our heels, that is, with -the two thieves at our sterns, there lay an English man-of-war in the -road of Nevis, which was the same island from whence they espied the -pirates, but the land lying between, we could not see them. - -As the man-of-war discovered them she immediately slipped her cable and -put herself under sail in chase of the rogues; and they as soon -perceived her, and being windward, put themselves upon a wind to escape -her; and thus we were delivered, and in half-an-hour more we knew who -was our deliverer, seeing the man-of-war stretch ahead clear of the -island, and stand directly after the pirates, who now crowded from us -as fast as they crowded after us before; and thus we got safe into -Antigua, after the terrible apprehension we had been in of being taken. -Our apprehensions of being taken now were much more than they would -have been on board a loaden ship from or to London, where the most they -ordinarily do is to rifle the ship, take what is valuable and portable, -and let her go. But ours being but a sloop, and all our loading being -good provisions, such as they wanted, to be sure, for their ship’s -store, they would certainly have carried us away, ship and all, taken -out the cargo and the men, and perhaps have set the sloop on fire; so -that, as to our cargo of gold, it had been inevitably lost, and we -hurried away, nobody knows where, and used as such barbarous fellows -are wont to use innocent people as fall into their hands. - -But we were now out of their hands, and had the satisfaction a few days -after to hear that the man-of-war pursued them so close, -notwithstanding they changed their course in the night, that the next -day they were obliged to separate and shift for themselves; so the -man-of-war took one of them, namely, the brigantine, and carried her -into Jamaica, but the other, viz., the sloop, made her escape. - -Being arrived here, we presently disposed of our cargo, and at a -tolerable good price; and now the question was, what I should do next. -I looked upon myself to be safe here from the fears I had been under of -being discovered as a rebel, and so indeed I was; but having been now -absent five months, and having sent the ship back with a cargo of rum -and molasses, which I knew was wanting in my plantations, I received -the same vessel back in return loaden, as at first, with provisions. - -With this cargo my wife received a packet from London from the person -whom she had employed, as above, to solicit a pardon, who very honestly -wrote to her that he would not be so unjust to her friend, whoever he -was, as to put him to any expense for a private solicitation; for that -he was very well assured that his Majesty had resolved, from his own -native disposition to acts of clemency and mercy to his subjects, to -grant a general pardon, with some few exceptions to persons -extraordinary, and he hoped her friend was none of the extraordinary -persons to be excepted. - -This was a kind of life from the dead to us both, and it was resolved -that my wife should go back in the sloop directly to Virginia, where -she should wait the good news from England, and should send me an -account of it as soon as she received it. - -Accordingly she went back, and came safe with the sloop and cargo to -our plantation, from whence, after above four months’ more expectation, -behold the sloop came to me again, but empty and gutted of all her -cargo, except about a hundred sacks of unground malt, which the -pirates, not knowing how to brew, knew not what to do with, and so had -left in her. However, to my infinite satisfaction, there was a packet -of letters from my wife, with another to her from England, as well one -from her friend as one from my own correspondent; both of them inti -mating that the king had signed an act of grace, that is to say, a -general free pardon, and sent me copies of the act, wherein it was -manifest that I was fully included. - -And here let me hint, that having now, as it were, received my life at -the hands of King George, and in a manner so satisfying as it was to -me, it made a generous convert of me, and I became sincerely given in -to the interest of King George; and this from a principle of gratitude -and a sense of my obligation to his Majesty for my life; and it has -continued ever since, and will certainly remain with me as long as any -sense of honour and of the debt of gratitude remains with me. I mention -this to hint how far in such cases justice and duty to ourselves -commands us; namely, that to those who graciously give us our lives -when it is in their power to take them away, those lives are a debt -ever after, and ought to be set apart for their service and interest as -long as any of the powers of life remain, for gratitude is a debt that -never ceases while the benefit received remains; and if my prince has -given me my life, I can never pay the debt fully, unless such a -circumstance as this should happen, that the prince’s life should be in -my power, and I as generously preserved it. And yet neither would the -obligation be paid then, because the cases would differ; thus, that my -preserving the life of my prince was my natural duty, whereas the -prince on his side, my life being forfeited to him, had no motive but -mere clemency and beneficence. - -Perhaps this principle may not please all that read it; but as I have -resolved to guide my actions in things of such a nature by the rules of -strict virtue and principles of honour, so I must lay it down as a rule -of honour, that a man having once forfeited his life to the justice of -his prince and to the laws of his country, and receiving it back as a -bounty from the grace of his sovereign, such a man can never lift up -his hand again against that prince without a forfeiture of his virtue -and an irreparable breach of his honour and duty, and deserves no -pardon after it either from God or man. But all this is a digression: I -leave it as a sketch of the laws of honour, printed by the laws of -nature in the breast of a soldier or a man of honour, and which, I -believe, all impartial persons who understand what honour means will -subscribe to. - -But I return now to my present circumstances. My wife was gone, and -with her all my good fortune and success in business seemed to have -forsaken me; and I had another scene of misery to go through, after I -had thought that all my misfortunes were over and at an end. - -My sloop, as I have told you, arrived, but having met with a pirate -rogue in the Gulf of Florida, they took her first; then finding her -cargo to be all eatables, which they always want, they gutted her of -all her loading, except, as I have said, about a hundred sacks of malt, -which they really knew not what to do with; and, which was still worse, -they took away all the men except the master and two boys, who they -left on board just to run the vessel into Antigua, where they said they -were bound. - -But the most valuable part of my cargo, viz., a packet of letters from -England, those they left, to my inexpressible comfort and satisfaction; -and, particularly, that by those I saw my way home to return to my wife -and to my plantations, from which I promised myself never to wander any -more. - -In order to this, I now embarked myself and all my effects on board the -sloop, resolving to sail directly to the Capes of Virginia. My captain -beating it up to reach the Bahama channel, had not been two days at sea -but we were overtaken by a violent storm, which drove us so far upon -the coast of Florida as that we twice struck upon the shore, and had we -struck a third time we had been inevitably lost. A day or two after -that, the storm abating a little, we kept the sea, but found the wind -blowing so strong against our passing the gulf, and the sea going so -high, we could not hold it any longer. So we were forced to bear away -and make what shift we could; in which distress, the fifth day after, -we made land, but found it to be Cape ——, the north-west part of the -isle of Cuba. Here we found ourselves under a necessity to run in under -the land for shelter, though we had not come to an anchor, so we had -not touched the king of Spain’s territories at all. However, in the -morning we were surrounded with five Spanish barks, or boats, such as -they call _barco longos_, full of men, who instantly boarded us, took -us and carried us into the Havannah, the most considerable port -belonging to the Spaniards in that part of the world. - -Here the sloop was immediately seized, and in consequence plundered, as -any one that knows the Spaniards, especially in that country, will -easily guess. Our men were made prisoners and sent to the common gaol; -and as for myself and the captain, we were carried before the Alcade -Major, or intendant of the place, as criminals. - -I spoke Spanish very well, having served under the king of Spain in -Italy, and it stood me in good stead at this time; for I so effectually -argued the injustice of their treatment of me that the governor, or -what I ought to call him, frankly owned they ought not to have stopped -me, seeing I was in the open sea pursuing my voyage, and offered no -offence to anybody, and had not landed or offered to land upon any part -of his Catholic Majesty’s dominions till I was brought as a prisoner. - -It was a great favour that I could obtain thus much; but I found it -easier to obtain an acknowledgment that I had received wrong than to -get any satisfaction for that wrong, and much less was there any hope -or prospect of restitution; and I was let know that I was to wait till -an account could be sent to the viceroy of Mexico, and orders could be -received back from him how to act in the affair. - -I could easily foresee what all this tended to, namely, to a -confiscation of the ship and goods by the ordinary process at the -place; and that my being left to the decision of the viceroy of Mexico -was but a pretended representation of things to him from the -corregidore or judge of the place. - -However, I had no remedy but the old insignificant thing called -patience, and this I was better furnished with because I did not so -much value the loss as I made them believe I did. My greatest -apprehensions were that they would detain me and keep me as a prisoner -for life, and perhaps send me to their mines in Peru, as they have done -many, and pretended to do to all that come on shore in their dominions, -how great soever the distresses may have been which have brought them -thither, and which has been the reason why others who have been forced -on shore have committed all manner of violence upon the Spaniards in -their turn, resolving, however dear they sold their lives, not to fall -into their hands. - -But I got better quarter among them than that too, which was, as I have -said, much of it owing to my speaking Spanish, and to my telling them -how I had fought in so many occasions in the quarrel of his Catholic -Majesty in Italy; and, by great good chance, I had the king of France’s -commission for lieutenant-colonel in the Irish brigade in my pocket, -where it was mentioned that the said brigade was then serving in the -armies of France, under the orders of his Catholic Majesty, in Italy. - -I failed not to talk up the gallantry and personal bravery of his -Catholic Majesty on all occasions, and particularly in many battles -where, by the way, his Majesty had never been at all, and in some where -I had never been myself. But I found I talked to people who knew -nothing of the matter, and so anything went down with them if it did -but praise the king of Spain and talk big of the Spanish cavalry, of -which, God knows, there was not one regiment in the army, at least -while I was there. - -However, this way of managing myself obtained me the liberty of the -place, upon my parole that I would not attempt an escape; and I -obtained also, which was a great favour, to have two hundred pieces of -eight allowed me out of the sale of my cargo for subsistence till I -could negotiate my affairs at Mexico. As for my men, they were -maintained as prisoners at the public charge. - -Well, after several months’ solicitation and attendance, all I could -obtain was the satisfaction of seeing my ship and cargo confiscated and -my poor sailors in a fair way to be sent to the mines. The last I -begged off, upon condition of paying three hundred pieces of eight for -their ransom, and having them set on shore at Antigua, and myself to -remain hostage for the payment of the said three hundred pieces of -eight, and for two hundred pieces of eight, which I had already had, -and for five hundred pieces of eight more for my own ransom, if, upon a -return from Mexico, the sentence of confiscation, as above, should be -confirmed by the viceroy. - -These were hard articles indeed, but I was forced to submit to them; -nor, as my circumstances were above all such matters as these, as to -substance, did I lay it much to heart. The greatest difficulty that lay -in my way was, that I knew not how to correspond with my friends in any -part of the world, or which way to supply myself with necessaries or -with money for the payment I had agreed to, the Spaniards being so -tenacious of their ports that they allowed nobody to come on shore, or -indeed near the shore, from any part of the world, upon pain of seizure -and confiscation, as had been my case already. Upon this difficulty I -began to reason with the corregidore, and tell him that he put things -upon us that were impossible, and that were inconsistent with the -customs of nations; that, if a man was prisoner at Algiers, they would -allow him to write to his friends to pay his ransom, and would admit -the person that brought it to come and go free as a public person, and -if they did not, no treaty could be carried on for the ransom of a -slave, nor the conditions be performed when they are agreed upon. - -I brought it then down to my own case, and desired to know, upon -supposition, that I might, within the time limited in that agreement, -have the sums of money ready for the ransom of my men and of myself, -how I should obtain to have notice given me of it, or how it should be -brought, seeing the very persons bringing that notice, or afterwards -presuming to bring the money, might be liable to be seized and -confiscated, as I had been, and the money itself be taken as a second -prize, without redeeming the first. - -Though this was so reasonable a request that it could not be withstood -in point of argument, yet the Spaniard shrunk his head into his -shoulders, and said they had not power sufficient to act in such a -case; that the king’s laws were so severe against the suffering any -strangers to set their foot on his Catholic Majesty’s dominions in -America, and they could not dispense with the least tittle of them -without a particular _assiento_, as they called it, from the Consulado, -or Chamber of Commerce, at Seville, or a command under the hand and -seal of the viceroy of Mexico. - -“How! signior corregidore,” said I, with some warmth, and, as it were, -with astonishment, “have you not authority enough to sign a passport -for an agent, or ambassador, to come on shore here, from any of the -king of Great Britain’s governors in these parts, under a white flag, -or flag of truce, to speak with the governor of this place, or with any -other person in the king’s name, on the subject of such business as the -governor may have to communicate? Why,” said I, “if you cannot do that, -you cannot act according to the law of nations.” - -He shook his head, but still said no, he could not do even so much as -that; but here one of the military governors put in and opposed him, -and they two differed warmly, the first insisting that their orders -were deficient in that particular; but the other said that, as they -were bound up to them, it could not be in their power to act otherwise, -and that they were answerable for the ill consequences. - -“Well, then,” says the governor to the corregidore, “now you have kept -this Englishman as hostage for the ransom of the men that you have -dismissed, suppose he tells you the money is ready, either at such, or -such, or such a place, how shall he bring it hither? You will take all -the people prisoners that offer to bring it; what must he do? If you -say you will send and fetch it, what security shall he have that he -shall have his liberty when it is paid you? and why should he trust you -so far as to pay the money, and yet remain here a prisoner?” - -This carried so much reason with it that the corregidore knew not what -to say, but that so was the law, and he could act no otherwise but by -the very letter of it; and here each was so positive that nothing could -determine it but another express to be sent to the viceroy of Mexico. - -Upon this the governor was so kind as to say he would get me a passport -for anybody that should bring the money, and any vessel they were in, -by his own authority, and for their safe returning, and taking me with -them, provided I would answer for it that they should bring no European -or other goods whatever with them, and should not set foot on shore -without his express permission, and provided he did not receive orders -to the contrary, in the meantime, from any superior hand; and that, -even in such a case, they should have liberty to go back freely from -whence they came, under the protection of a white flag. - -I bowed very respectfully to the governor in token of my acknowledging -his justice, and then presented my humble petition to him that he would -allow my men to take their own sloop; that it should be rated at a -certain value, and would be obliged they should bring specie on board -with them, and that they should either pay it for the sloop or leave -the sloop again. - -Then he inquired to what country he would send them for so much money, -and if I could assure him of the payment; and when he understood it was -no farther than to Virginia he seemed very easy; and, to satisfy the -corregidore, who still stood off, adhering with a true Spanish -stiffness to the letter of the law, the said governor calls out to me: -“Signior,” says he, “I shall make all this matter easy to you, if you -agree to my proposal. Your men shall have the sloop, on condition you -shall be my hostage for her return; but they shall not take her as your -sloop, though she shall in the effect be yours on the payment of the -money; but you shall take two of my men on board with you, upon your -parole for their safe return, and when she returns she shall carry his -Catholic Majesty’s colours, and be entered as one of the sloops -belonging to the Havannah; one of the Spaniards to be commander, and to -be called by such a name as he shall appoint.” - -This the corregidore came into immediately, and said this was within -the letter, of the king’s commanderie or precept; upon condition, -however, that she should bring no European goods on board. I desired it -might be put in other words; namely, that she should bring no European -goods on shore. It cost two days’ debate between these two whether it -should pass that no European goods should be brought in the ship or -brought on shore; but having found means to intimate that I meant not -to trade there, but would not be tied from bringing a small present to -a certain person in acknowledgment of favours—I say, after I had found -room to place such a hint right where it should be placed, I found it -was all made easy to me; and it was all agreed presently that, after -the ransom was paid, and the ship also bought, it was but reasonable -that I should have liberty to trade to any other country not in the -dominions of the king of Spain, so to make up my losses; and that it -would be hard to oblige my men to bring away the vessel light, and so -lose the voyage, and add so much to our former misfortunes; that, so -long as no goods were brought on shore in the country belonging to his -Catholic Majesty’s dominions, which was all that they had to defend, -the rest was no business of theirs. - -Now I began to see my way through this unhappy business, and to find, -that as money would bring me out of it, so money would bring it to turn -to a good account another way. Wherefore I sent the sloop away under -Spanish colours, and called her the _Nuestra Signiora de la Val de -Grace_, commanded by Signior Giraldo de Nesma, one of the two -Spaniards. - -With the sloop I sent letters to my wife and to my chief manager with -orders to load her back, as I there directed, viz., that she should -have two hundred barrels of flour, fifty barrels of pease; and, to -answer my other views, I ordered a hundred bales to be made up of all -sorts of European goods, such as not my own warehouses only would -supply, but such as they could be supplied with in other warehouses -where I knew they had credit for anything. - -In this cargo I directed all the richest and most valuable English -goods they had, or could get, whether linen, woollen, or silk, to be -made up; the coarser things, such as we use in Virginia for clothing of -servants, such I ordered to be left behind for the use of the -plantation. In less than seven weeks’ time the sloop returned, and I, -that failed not every day to look out for her on the strand, was the -first that spied her at sea at a distance, and knew her by her sails, -but afterwards more particularly by her signals. - -When she returned she came into the road with her Spanish ancient -flying, and came to an anchor as directed; but I, that had seen her -some hours before, went directly to the governor and gave him an -account of her being come, and fain I would have obtained the favour to -have his excellency, as I called him, go on board in person, that he -might see how well his orders were executed. But he declined that, -saying he could not justify going off of the island, which was, in -short, to go out of his command of the fort, which he could not -reassume without a new commission from the king’s own hand. - -Then I asked leave to go on board myself, which he granted me; and I -brought on shore with me the full sum in gold which I had conditioned -to pay for the ransom both of my men and myself, and for the purchase -of the sloop; and as I obtained leave to land in a different place, so -my governor sent his son with six soldiers to receive and convey me -with the money to the castle, where he commanded, and therein to his -own house. I had made up the money in heavy parcels, as if it had been -all silver, and gave it to two of my men who belonged to the sloop, -with orders to them that they should make it seem, by their carrying -it, to be much heavier than it was. This was done to conceal three -parcels of goods which I had packed up with the money to make a present -to the governor as I intended. - -When the money was carried in and laid down on a table, the governor -ordered my men to withdraw, and I gave the soldiers each of them a -piece of eight to drink, for which they were very thankful, and the -governor seemed well pleased with it also. Then I asked him presently -if he would please to receive the money. He said no, he would not -receive it but in presence of the corregidore and the other people -concerned. Then I begged his excellency, as I called him, to give me -leave to open the parcels in his presence, for that I would do myself -the honour to acknowledge his favours in the best manner I could. - -He told me no, he could not see anything be brought on shore but the -money; but, if I had brought anything on shore for my own use, he would -not be so strict as to inquire into that, so I might do what I pleased -myself. - -Upon that I went into the place, shut myself in, and having opened all -the things, placed them to my mind. There was five little parcels, as -follows:— - -1, 2. A piece of twenty yards fine English broad cloth, five yards -black, five yards crimson, in one parcel; and the rest of fine mixtures -in another parcel. - -3. A piece of thirty ells of fine Holland linen. - -4. A piece of eighteen yards of fine English brocaded silk. - -5. A piece of black Colchester bays. - -After I had placed these by themselves, I found means, with some -seeming difficulties and much grimace, to bring him to know that this -was intended for a present to himself. After all that part was over, -and he had seemed to accept them, he signified, after walking a hundred -turns and more in the room by them, by throwing his hat, which was -under his arm, upon them, and making a very stiff bow; I say, after -this he seemed to take his leave of me for a while, and I waited in an -outer room. When I was called in again, I found that he had looked over -all the particulars, and caused them to be removed out of the place. - -But when I came again I found him quite another man. He thanked me for -my present; told me it was a present fit to be given to a viceroy of -Mexico rather than to a mere governor of a fort; that he had done me no -services suitable to such a return, but that he would see if he could -not oblige me further before I left the place. - -After our compliments were over I obtained leave to have the -corregidore sent for, who accordingly came, and in his presence the -money stipulated for the ransom of the ship and of the men was paid. - -But here the corregidore showed that he would be as severely just on my -side as on theirs, for he would not admit the money as a ransom for us -as prisoners, but as a deposit for so much as we were to be ransomed -for if the sentence of our being made prisoners should be confirmed. - -And then the governor and corregidore, joining together, sent a -representation of the whole affair—at least we were told so—to the -viceroy of Mexico; and it was privately hinted to me that I would do -well to stay for the return of the _aviso_—that is, a boat which they -send over the bay to Vera Cruz with an express to Mexico, whose return -is generally performed in two months. - -I was not unwilling to stay, having secret hints given me that I should -find some way to go with my sloop towards Vera Cruz myself, where I -might have an occasion to trade privately for the cargo which I had on -board. But it came about a nearer way; for, about two days after this -money being deposited, as above, the governor’s son invited himself on -board my sloop, where I told him I would be very glad to see him, and -whither, at the same time, he brought with him three considerable -merchants, Spaniards, two of them not inhabitants of the place. - -When they were on board they were very merry and pleasant, and I -treated them so much to their satisfaction that, in short, they were -not well able to go on shore for that night, but were content to take a -nap on some carpets, which I caused to be spread for them; and that the -governor’s son might think himself well used, I brought him a very good -silk nightgown, with a crimson velvet cap, to lie down in, and in the -morning desired him to accept of them for his use, which he took very -kindly. - -During that merry evening one of the merchants, not so touched with -drink as the young gentleman, nor so as not to mind what it was he came -about, takes an occasion to withdraw out of the great cabin and enter -into a parley with the master of the sloop in order to trade for what -European goods we had on board. The master took the hint, and gave me -notice of what had passed, and I gave him instructions what to say and -what to do; according to which instructions they made but few words, -bought the goods for about five thousand pieces of eight, and carried -them away themselves, and at their own hazards. - -This was very agreeable to me, for now I began to see I should lick -myself whole by the sale of this cargo, and should make myself full -amends of Jack Spaniard for all the injuries he had done me in the -first of these things. With this view I gave my master or captain of -the sloop instructions for sale of all the rest of the goods, and left -him to manage by himself, which he did so well that he sold the whole -cargo the next day to the three Spaniards; with this additional -circumstance, that they desired the sloop might carry the goods, as -they were on board, to such part of the _terra firma_ as they should -appoint between the Honduras and the coast of La Vera Cruz. - -It was difficult for me to make good this part of the bargain, but -finding the price agreed for would very well answer the voyage, I -consented. But then how to send the sloop away and remain among the -Spaniards when I was now a clear man, this was a difficulty too, as it -was also to go away, and not wait for a favourable answer from the -viceroy of Mexico to the representation of the governor and the -corregidore. However, at last I resolved to go in the sloop, fall out -what would; so I went to the governor and represented to him that, -being now to expect a favourable answer from Mexico, it would be a -great loss to me to keep the sloop there all the while, and I desired -his leave for me to go with the sloop to Antigua to sell and dispose of -the cargo, which he well knew I was obliged not to bring on shore there -at the Havannah, and which would be in danger of being spoiled by lying -so long on board. This I obtained readily, with license to come again -into the road, and, for myself only, to come on shore in order to hear -the viceroy’s pleasure in my case, which was depending. - -Having thus obtained a license or passport for the sloop and myself, I -put to sea with the three Spanish merchants on board with me. They told -me they did not live at the Havannah, but it seems one of them did; and -some rich merchants of the Havannah, or of the parts thereabouts in the -same island, were concerned with them, for they brought on board, that -night we put to sea, a great sum of money in pieces of eight; and, as I -understood afterwards, that these merchants bought the cargo of me, and -though they gave me a very great price for everything, yet that they -sold them again to the merchants, who they procured on the coast of La -Vera Cruz, at a prodigious advantage, so that they got above a hundred -per cent, after I had gained very sufficiently before. - -We sailed from the Havannah directly for Vera Cruz. I scrupled -venturing into the port at first, and was very uneasy lest I should -have another Spanish trick put upon me; but as we sailed under Spanish -colours, they showed us such authentic papers from the proper officers -that there was no room to fear anything. - -However, when we came in sight of the Spanish coast, I found they had a -secret clandestine trade to carry on, which, though it was secret, yet -they knew the way of it so well that it was but a mere road to them. -The case was this: we stood in close under the shore in the night, -about six leagues to the north of the port, where two of the three -merchants went on shore in the boat, and in three hours or there abouts -they came on board again with five canoes and seven or eight merchants -more with them, and as soon as they were on board we stood off to sea, -so that by daylight we were quite out of sight of land. - -I ought to have mentioned before that as soon as we were put to sea -from the Havannah, and during our voyage into the Gulf of Mexico, which -was eight days, we rummaged the whole cargo, and opening every bale as -far as the Spanish merchants desired, we trafficked with them for the -whole cargo, except the barrels of flour and pease. - -This cargo was considerable in itself, for my wife’s account or -invoice, drawn out by my tutor and manager, amounted to £2684, 10s., -and I sold the whole, including what had been sold in the evening, when -they were on board first, as I have said, for thirty-eight thousand -five hundred and ninety-three pieces of eight, and they allowed me -twelve hundred pieces of eight for the freight of the sloop, and made -my master and the seamen very handsome presents besides; and they were -well able to do this too, as you shall hear presently. - -After we were gotten out of sight of land the Spaniards fell to their -traffic, and our three merchants opened their shop, as they might say, -for it was their shop. As to me, I had nothing to do with it or with -their goods. They drove their bargain in a few hours, and at night we -stood in again for the shore, when the five canoes carried a great part -of the goods on shore, and brought the money back in specie, as well -for that they carried as for all the rest, and at their second voyage -carried all away clear, leaving me nothing on board but my barrels of -flour and pease, which they bade me money for too, but not so much as I -expected. - -Here I found that my Spanish merchants made above seventy thousand -pieces of eight of the cargo I had sold them, upon which I had a great -mind to be acquainted with those merchants on the _terra firma_, who -were the last customers; for it presently occurred to me that I could -easily go with a sloop from Virginia, and taking a cargo directed on -purpose from England of about £5000 or £6000, I might easily make four -of one. With this view I began to make a kind of an acquaintance with -the Spaniards which came in the canoes, and we became so intimate that -at last, with the consent of the three Spaniards of the Havannah, I -accepted an invitation on shore to their house, which was a little -villa, or rather plantation, where they had an _ingenio_, that is to -say, a sugar-house, or sugar-work, and there they treated us like -princes. - -I took occasion at this invitation to say that, if I knew how to find -my way thither again, I could visit them once or twice a year, very -much to their advantage and mine too. One of the Spaniards took the -hint, and taking me into a room by myself, “Seignior,” says he, “if you -have any thoughts of coming to this place again, I shall give you such -directions as you shall be sure not to mistake; and, upon either coming -on shore in the night and coming up to this place, or upon making the -signals which we shall give you, we will not fail to come off to you, -and bring money enough for any _cargaison_” (so they call it) “that you -shall bring.” - -I took all their directions, took their paroles of honour for my -safety, and, without taking any notice to my first three merchants, -laid up the rest in my most secret thoughts, resolving to visit them -again in as short a time as I could; and thus having, in about five -days, finished all our merchandising, we stood off to sea, and made for -the island of Cuba, where I set my three Spaniards on shore with all -their treasure, to their heart’s content, and made the best of my way -to Antigua, where, with all the despatch I could, I sold my two hundred -barrels of flour, which, however, had suffered a little by the length -of the voyage; and having laden the sloop with rum, molasses, and -sugar, I set sail again for the Havannah. - -I was now uneasy indeed, for fear of the pirates, for I was a rich -ship, having, besides goods, near forty thousand pieces of eight in -silver. - -When I came back to the Havannah, I went on shore to wait on the -governor and the corregidore, and to hear what return was had from the -viceroy, and had the good fortune to know that the viceroy had -disallowed that part of the sentence which condemned us as prisoners -and put a ransom on us, which he insisted could not be but in time of -open war. But as to the confiscation, he deferred it to the Chamber or -Council of Commerce at Seville, and the appeal to the king, if such be -preferred. - -This was, in some measure, a very good piece of justice in the viceroy; -for, as we had not been on shore, we could not be legally imprisoned; -and for the rest, I believe if I would have given myself the trouble to -have gone to Old Spain, and have preferred my claim to both the ship -and the cargo, I had recovered them also. - -However, as it was, I was now a freeman without ransom, and my men were -also free, so that all the money which I had deposited, as above, was -returned me; and thus I took my leave of the Havannah, and made the -best of my way for Virginia, where I arrived after a year and a half’s -absence; and notwithstanding all my losses, came home above forty -thousand pieces of eight richer than I went out. - -As to the old affair about the Preston prisoners, that was quite at an -end, for the general pardon passed in Parliament made me perfectly -easy, and I took no more thought about that part. I might here very -usefully observe how necessary and inseparable a companion fear is to -guilt. It was but a few months before that the face of a poor Preston -transport would have frighted me out of my wits; to avoid them I -feigned myself sick, and wrapped my legs in flannel, as if I had the -gout; whereas now they were no more surprise to me, nor was I any more -uneasy to see them, than I was to see any other of the servants of the -plantations. - -And that which was more particular than all was, that, though before I -fancied every one of them would know me and remember me, and -consequently betray and accuse me, now, though I was frequently among -them, and saw most of them, if not all of them, one time or other, nay, -though I remembered several of their faces, and even some of their -names, yet there was not a man of them that ever took the least notice -of me, or of having known or seen me before. - -It would have been a singular satisfaction to me if I could have known -so much as this of them before, and have saved me all the fatigue, -hazard, and misfortune that befell me afterwards; but man, a short -sighted creature, sees so little before him that he can neither -anticipate his joys nor prevent his disasters, be they ever so little a -distance from him. - -I had now my head full of my West India project, and I began to make -provision for it accordingly. I had a full account of what European -goods were most acceptable in New Spain; and, to add to my speed, I -knew that the Spaniards were in great want of European goods, the -galleons from Old Spain having been delayed to an unusual length of -time for the two years before. Upon this account, not having time, as I -thought, to send to England for a cargo of such goods as were most -proper, I resolved to load my sloop with tobacco and rum, the last I -brought from Antigua, and go away to Boston in New England, and to New -York, and see if I could pick up a cargo to my mind. - -Accordingly, I took twenty thousand pieces of eight in money, and my -sloop laden as above, and taking my wife with me, we went away. It was -an odd and new thing at New England to have such a quantity of goods -bought up there by a sloop from Virginia, and especially to be paid for -in ready money, as I did for most of my goods; and this set all the -trading heads upon the stretch, to inquire what and who I was; to which -they had an immediate and direct answer, that I was a very considerable -planter in Virginia, and that was all any of my men on board the sloop -could tell of me, and enough too. - -Well, it was the cause of much speculation among them, as I heard at -second and third hands. Some said, “He is certainly going to Jamaica;” -others said, “He is going to trade with the Spaniards;” others that “He -is going to the South Sea and turn half merchant, half pirate, on the -coast of Chili and Peru;” some one thing, some another, as the men -gossips found their imaginations directed; but we went on with our -business, and laid out twelve thousand pieces of eight, besides our -cargo of rum and tobacco, and went from thence to New York, where we -laid out the rest. - -The chief of the cargo we bought here was fine English broadcloth, -serges, druggets, Norwich stuffs, bays, says, and all kinds of woollen -manufactures, as also linen of all sorts, a very great quantity, and -near £1000 in fine silks of several sorts. Being thus freighted, I came -back safe to Virginia, and with very little addition to my cargo, began -to prepare for my West India voyage. - -I should have mentioned that I had built upon my sloop and raised her a -little, so that I had made her carry twelve guns, and fitted her up for -defence; for I thought she should not be attacked and boarded by a few -Spanish _barco longos_, as she was before; and I found the benefit of -it afterwards, as you shall hear. - -We set sail the beginning of August, and as I had twice been attacked -by pirates in passing the Gulf of Florida, or among the Bahama Islands, -I resolved, though it was farther about, to stand off to sea, and so -keep, as I believed it would be, out of the way of them. - -We passed the tropic, as near as we could guess, just where the famous -Sir William Phipps fished up the silver from the Spanish plate wreck, -and, standing in between the islands, kept our course W. by S., keeping -under the isle of Cuba, and so running away, trade, as they call it, -into the great Gulf of Mexico, leaving the island of Jamaica to the S. -and S.E., by this means avoiding, as I thought, all the Spaniards of -Cuba or the Havannah. - -As we passed the west point of Cuba three Spanish boats came off to -board us, as they had done before, on the other side of the island. But -they found themselves mistaken; we were too many for them, for we run -out our guns, which they did not perceive before, and firing three or -four shots at them, they retired. - -The next morning they appeared again, being five large boats and a -barque, and gave us chase; but we then spread our Spanish colours, and -brought to to fight them, at which they retired; so we escaped this -danger by the addition of force which we had made to our vessel. - -We now had a fair run for our port, and as I had taken very good -directions, I stood away to the north of St. John d’Ulva, and then -running in for the shore, found the place appointed exactly; and going -on shore, I sent the master of my sloop directly to the _ingenio_, -where he found the Spanish merchant at his house, and where he dwelt -like a sovereign prince, who welcomed him, and understanding that I was -in a particular boat at the creek, as appointed, he came immediately -with him, and bringing another Spaniard from a villa not far off, in -about four hours they were with me. - -They would have persuaded me to go up to their houses and have stayed -there till the next night, ordering the sloop to stand off as usual, -but I would not consent to let the sloop go to sea without me, so we -went on board directly, and, as the night was almost run, stood off to -sea; so by daybreak we were quite out of sight of land. - -Here we began, as I said before, to open shop, and I found the -Spaniards were extremely surprised at seeing such a cargo—I mean so -large; for, in short, they had cared not if it had been four times as -much. They soon ran through the contents of all the bales we opened -that night, and, with very little dispute about the price, they -approved and accepted all that I showed them; but as they said they had -not money for any greater parcel, they agreed to go on shore the next -evening for more money. - -However, we spent the remainder of the night in looking over and making -inventories or invoices of the rest of the cargo, that so they might -see the goods, know the value, and know what more money they had to -bring. - -arrival announced Colonel Jacque’s arrival is announced - - -Accordingly, in the evening we stood in for the shore, and they carried -part of the cargo with them, borrowing the sloop’s boat to assist them; -and after they had lodged and landed the goods they came on board -again, bringing three of the other merchants with them who were -concerned before, and money enough to clear the whole ship—ay, and ship -and all, if I had been willing to sell her. - -To give them their due, they dealt with me like men of honour. They -were indeed sensible that they bought everything much cheaper of me -than they did before of the three merchants of the Havannah, these -merchants having been, as it were, the hucksters, and bought them first -of me, and then advanced, as I have said, above one hundred per cent, -upon the price they gave me. But yet, at the same time, I advanced in -the price much more now than I did before to the said Spaniards; nor -was it without reason, because of the length and risk of the voyage, -both out and home, which now lay wholly upon me. - -In short, I sold the whole cargo to them, and for which I received near -two hundred thousand pieces of eight in money; besides which, when they -came on board the second time, they brought all their boats loaden with -fresh provisions, hogs, sheep, fowls, sweetmeats, &c., enough for my -whole voyage, all which they made a present of to me. And thus we -finished our traffic to our mutual satisfaction, and parted with -promises of further commerce, and with assurances on their part of all -acts of friendship and assistance that I could desire if any disaster -should befall me in any of these adventures—as indeed was not -improbable, considering the strictness and severity of their customs in -case any people were trading upon their coast. - -I immediately called a council with my little crew which way we should -go back. The mate was for beating it up to windward and getting up to -Jamaica; but as we were too rich to run any risks, and were to take the -best course to get safe home, I thought, and so did the master of the -sloop, that our best way was to coast about the bay, and, keeping the -shore of Florida on board, make the shortest course to the gulf, and so -make for the coast of Carolina, and to put in there into the first port -we could, and wait for any English men-of-war that might be on the -coast to secure us to the capes. - -This was the b—-est course we could take, and proved very safe to us, -excepting that, about the cape of Florida, and on the coast in the -gulf, till we came to the height of St. Augustine, we were several -times visited with the Spaniards’ _barco longos_ and small barks, in -hopes of making a prize of us; but carrying Spanish colours deceived -most of them, and a good tier of guns kept the rest at a distance, so -that we came safe, though once or twice in danger of being run on shore -by a storm of wind—I say, we came safe into Charles River in Carolina. - -From hence I found means to send a letter home, with an account to my -wife of my good success; and having an account that the coast was clear -of pirates, though there were no men-of-war in the place, I ventured -forward, and, in short, got safe into the Bay of Chesapeake, that is to -say, within the capes of Virginia, and in a few days more to my own -house, having been absent three months and four days. - -Never did any vessel on this side the world make a better voyage in so -short a time that I made in this sloop; for by the most moderate -computation I cleared in these three months £25,000 sterling in ready -money, all the charges of the voyages to New England also being -reckoned up. - -Now was my time to have sat still, contented with what I had got, if it -was in the power of man to know when his good fortune was at the -highest. And more, my prudent wife gave it as her opinion that I should -sit down satisfied and push the affair no farther, and earnestly -persuaded me to do so. But I, that had a door open, as I thought, to -immense treasure, that had found the way to have a stream of the golden -rivers of Mexico flow into my plantation of Virginia, and saw no -hazards more than what were common to all such things in the -prosecution—I say, to me these things looked with another face, and I -dreamed of nothing but millions and hundreds of thousands; so, contrary -to all moderate measures, I pushed on for another voyage, and laid up a -stock of all sorts of goods that I could get together proper for the -trade. I did not indeed go again to New England, for I had by this time -a very good cargo come from England pursuant to a commission I had sent -several months before; so that, in short, my cargo, according to the -invoice now made out, amounted to above £10,000 sterling first cost, -and was a cargo so sorted and so well bought that I expected to have -advanced upon them much more in proportion than I had done in the cargo -before. - -With these expectations we began our second voyage in April, being -about five months after our return from the first. We had not indeed -the same good speed, even in our beginning, as we had at first; for -though we stood off to sea about sixty leagues in order to be out of -the way of the pirates, yet we had not been above five days at sea but -we were visited and rifled by two pirate barks, who, being bound to the -northward, that is to say, the banks of Newfoundland, took away all our -provisions and all our ammunition and small arms, and left us very ill -provided to pursue our voyage; and it being so near home, we thought it -advisable to come about and stand in for the capes again, to restore -our condition and furnish ourselves with stores of all kinds for our -voyage. This took us up about ten days, and we put to sea again. As for -our cargo, the pirates did not meddle with it, being all bale goods, -which they had no present use for, and knew not what to do with if they -had them. - -We met with no other adventure worth naming till, by the same course -that we had steered before, we came into the Gulf of Mexico; and the -first misfortune we met with here was, that, on the back of Cuba, -crossing towards the point of the _terra firma_, on the coast of -Yucatan, we had sight of the flota of New Spain, that is, of the ships -which come from Carthagena or Porto Bello, and go to the Havannah, in -order to pursue their voyage to Europe. - -They had with them one Spanish man-of-war and three frigates. Two of -the frigates gave us chase; but, it being just at the shutting in of -the day, we soon lost sight of them, and standing to the north, across -the Bay of Mexico, as if we were going to the mouth of Mississippi, -they lost us quite, and in a few days more we made the bottom of the -bay, being the port we were bound for. - -We stood in as usual in the night, and gave notice to our friends; but -instead of their former readiness to come on board, they gave us notice -that we had been seen in the bay, and that notice of us was given at -Vera Cruz and at other places, and that several frigates were in quest -of us, and that three more would be cruising the next morning in search -for us. We could not conceive how this could be; but we were afterwards -told that those three frigates, having lost sight of us in the night, -had made in for the shore, and had given the alarm of us as of -privateers. - -Be that as it would, we had nothing to do but to consider what course -to take immediately. The Spanish merchant’s advice was very good if we -had taken it, namely, to have unladen as many of our bales as we could -that very night by the help of our boat and their canoes, and to make -the best of our way in the morning to the north of the gulf, and take -our fate. - -This my skipper or master thought very well of, but when we began to -put it into execution, we were so confused and in such a hurry, being -not resolved what course to take, that we could not get out above -sixteen bales of all sorts of goods before it began to be too light and -it behoved us to sail. At last the master proposed a medium, which was, -that I should go on shore in the next boat, in which were five bales of -goods more, and that I should stay on shore if the Spanish merchants -would undertake to conceal me, and let them go to sea and take their -chance. - -The Spanish merchants readily undertook to protect me, especially it -being so easy to have me pass for a natural Spaniard, and so they took -me on shore with twenty-one bales of my goods, and the sloop stood off -to sea. If they met with any enemies they were to stand in for the -shore the next night; and we failed not to look well out for them, but -to no purpose, for the next day they were discovered and chased by two -Spanish frigates. They stood from them, and the sloop, being an -excellent sailer, gained so much that they would certainly have been -clear of them when night came on, but a small picaroon of a sloop kept -them company in spite of all they could do, and two or three times -offered to engage them, thereby to give time to the rest to come up; -but the sloop kept her way, and gave them a chase of three days and -nights, having a fresh gale of wind at S.W., till she made the Rio -Grand, or, as the French call it, the Mississippi, and there finding no -remedy, they ran the vessel on shore not far from the fort which the -Spaniards call Pensacola, garrisoned at that time with French. Our men -would have entered the river as a port, but having no pilot, and the -current of the river being strong against them, the sloop ran on shore, -and the men shifted as well as they could in their boats. - -I was now in a very odd condition indeed. My circumstances were in one -sense, indeed, very happy—namely, that I was in the hands of my -friends, for such really they were, and so faithful that no men could -have been more careful of their own safety than were they of mine; and -that which added to the comfort of my new condition was the produce of -my goods, which were gotten on shore by their own advice and direction, -which was a fund sufficient to maintain me with them as long as I could -be supposed to stay there; and if not, the first merchant to whose -house I went assured me that he would give me credit for twenty -thousand pieces of eight if I had occasion for it. - -My greatest affliction was, that I knew not how to convey news to my -wife of my present condition, and how, among many misfortunes of the -voyage, I was yet safe and in good hands. - -But there was no remedy for this part but the great universal cure of -all incurable sorrows, viz., patience; and, indeed, I had a great deal -of reason, not for patience only, but thankfulness, if I had known the -circumstances which I should have been reduced to if I had fallen into -the hands of the Spaniards; the best of which that I could reasonably -have expected had been to have been sent to the mines, or, which was -ten thousand times worse, the Inquisition; or, if I had escaped the -Spaniards, as my men in the sloop did, the hardships they were exposed -to, the dangers they were in, and the miseries they suffered were still -worse in wandering among savages, and the more savage French, who -plundered and stripped them, instead of relieving and supplying them in -their long wilderness journey over the mountains till they reached the -S.W. parts of South Carolina, a journey which, indeed, deserves to have -an account to be given of it by itself. I say, all these things, had I -known of them, would have let me see that I had a great deal of reason, -not only to be patient under my present circumstances, but satisfied -and thankful. - -Here, as I said, my patron, the merchant, entertained me like a prince; -he made my safety his peculiar care, and while we were in any -expectation of the sloop being taken and brought into Vera Cruz, he -kept me retired at a little house in a wood, where he kept a fine -aviary of all sorts of American birds, and out of which he yearly sent -some as presents to his friends in Old Spain. - -This retreat was necessary lest, if the sloop should be taken and -brought into Vera Cruz, and the men be brought in prisoners, they -should be tempted to give an account of me as their supercargo or -merchant, and where both I and the twenty-one bales of goods were set -on shore. As for the goods, he made sure work with them, for they were -all opened, taken out of the bales, and separated, and, being mixed -with other European goods which came by the galleons, were made up in -new package, and sent to Mexico in several parcels, some to one -merchant, some to another, so that it was impossible to have found them -out, even if they had had information of them. - -In this posture, and in apprehension of some bad news of the sloop, I -remained at the villa, or house in the vale—for so they called it—about -five weeks. I had two negroes appointed to wait on me, one of which was -my purveyor, or my cook, the other my valet; and my friend, the master -of all, came constantly every evening to visit and sup with me, when we -walked out together into the aviary, which was, of its kind, the most -beautiful thing that ever I saw in the world. - -After above five weeks’ retreat of this kind, he had good intelligence -of the fate of the sloop, viz., that the two frigates and a sloop had -chased her till she ran on ground near the fort of Pensacola; that they -saw her stranded and broke in pieces by the force of the waves, the men -making their escape in their boat. This news was brought, it seems, by -the said frigates to La Vera Cruz, where my friend went on purpose to -be fully informed, and received the account from one of the captains of -the frigates, and discoursed with him at large about it. - -I was better pleased with the loss of the sloop and all my cargo, the -men being got on shore and escaping, than I should have been with the -saving the whole cargo, if the men had fallen into the hands of the -Spaniards; for now I was safe, whereas then, it being supposed they -would have been forced to some discovery about me, I must have fled, -and should have found it very difficult to have made my escape, even -with all that my friends could have done for me too. - -But now I was perfectly easy, and my friend, who thought confining me -at the house in the vale no longer needful, brought me publicly home to -his dwelling-house, as a merchant come from Old Spain by the last -galleons, and who, having been at Mexico, was come to reside with him. - -Here I was dressed like a Spaniard of the better sort, had three -negroes to attend me, and was called Don Ferdinand de Villa Moresa, in -Castilia Feja—that is to say, in Old Castile. - -Here I had nothing to do but to walk about and ride out into the woods, -and come home again to enjoy the pleasantest and most agreeable -retirement in the world; for certainly no men in the world live in such -splendour and wallow in such immense treasures as the merchants of this -place. - -They live, as I have said, in a kind of country retreat at their -villas, or, as we would call them in Virginia, their plantations, and, -as they do call them, their _ingenios_, where they make their indigo -and their sugars. But they have also houses and warehouses at Vera -Cruz, where they go twice a year, when the galleons arrive from Old -Spain, and when those galleons relade for their return. And it was -surprising to me, when I went to La Vera Cruz with them, to see what -prodigious consignments they had from their correspondents in Old -Spain, and with what despatch they managed them; for no sooner were the -cases, packs, and bales of European goods brought into their warehouses -but they were opened and repacked by porters and packers of their -own—that is to say, negroes and Indian servants—and being made up into -new bales and separate parcels, were all despatched again by horses for -Mexico, and directed to their several merchants there, and the -remainder carried home, as above, to the _ingenio_ where they lived, -which was near thirty English miles from Vera Cruz, so that in about -twenty days their warehouses were again entirely free. At La Vera Cruz, -all their business was over there, and they and all their servants -retired; for they stayed no longer there than needs must, because of -the unhealthiness of the air. - -After the goods were thus despatched, it was equally surprising to see -how soon, and with what exactness, the merchants of Mexico to whom -those cargoes were separately consigned made the return, and how it -came all in silver or in gold, so that their warehouses in a few months -were piled up, even to the ceiling, with chests of pieces of eight and -with bars of silver. - -It is impossible to describe in the narrow compass of this work with -what exactness and order, and yet with how little hurry, and not the -least confusion, everything was done, and how soon a weight of business -of such importance and value was negotiated and finished, the goods -repacked, invoices made, and everything despatched and gone; so that in -about five weeks all the goods they had received from Europe by the -galleons were disposed of and entered in their journals to the proper -account of their merchant to whom they were respectively consigned; -from thence they had book-keepers who drew out the invoices and wrote -the letters, which the merchant himself only read over and signed, and -then other hands copied all again into other books. - -I can give no estimate of the value of the several consignments they -received by that flota; but I remember that, when the galleons went -back, they shipped on board, at several times, one million three -hundred thousand pieces of eight in specie, besides a hundred and -eighty bales or bags of cochineal and about three hundred bales of -indigo; but they were so modest that they said this was for themselves -and their friends. That is to say, the several merchants of Mexico -consigned large quantities of bullion to them, to ship on board and -consign according to their order; but then I know also that, for all -that, they were allowed commission, so that their gain was very -considerable even that way also. - -I had been with them at La Vera Cruz, and came back again before we -came to an account for the goods which I had brought on shore in the -twenty-one bales, which, by the account we brought them to (leaving a -piece of everything to be governed by our last market), amounted to -eight thousand five hundred and seventy pieces of eight, all which -money my friend—for so I must now call him—brought me in specie, and -caused his negroes to pile them up in one corner of my apartment; so -that I was indeed still very rich, all things considered. - -There was a bale which I had caused to be packed up on purpose in -Virginia, and which indeed I had written for from England, being -chiefly of fine English broadcloths, silk, silk druggets, and fine -stuffs of several kinds, with some very fine hollands, which I set -apart for presents, as I should find occasion; and as, whatever hurry I -was in at carrying the twenty-one bales of goods on shore, I did not -forget to let this bale be one of them, so, when we came to a sale for -the rest, I told them that this was a pack with clothes and necessaries -for my own wearing and use, and so desired it might not be opened with -the rest, which was accordingly observed, and that bale or pack was -brought into my apartment. - -This bale was, in general, made up of several smaller bales, which I -had directed, so that I might have room to make presents, equally -sorted as the circumstance might direct me. However, they were all -considerable, and I reckoned the whole bale cost me near £200 sterling -in England; and though my present circumstances required some limits to -my bounty in making presents, yet the obligation I was under being so -much the greater, especially to this one friendly, generous Spaniard, I -thought I could not do better than, by opening two of the smaller -bales, join them together, and make my gift some thing suitable to the -benefactor, and to the respect he had shown me. Accordingly, I took two -bales, and, laying the goods together, the contents were as follows:— - -Two pieces of fine English broadcloth, the finest that could be got in -London, divided, as was that which I gave to the governor at the -Havannah, into fine crimson in grain, fine light mixtures, and fine -black. - -Four pieces of fine holland, of 7s. to 8s. per ell in London. - -Twelve pieces of fine silk drugget and duroys, for men’s wear. - -Six pieces of broad silks, two damasks, two brocaded silks, and two -mantuas. - -With a box of ribands and a box of lace; the last cost about £40 -sterling in England. - -This handsome parcel I laid open in my apartment, and brought him -upstairs one morning, on pretence to drink chocolate with me, which he -ordinarily did; when, as we drank chocolate and was merry, I said to -him, though I had sold him almost all my cargo and taken his money, yet -the truth was, that I ought not to have sold them to him, but to have -laid them all at his feet, for that it was to his direction I owed the -having anything saved at all. - -He smiled, and, with a great deal of friendship in his face, told me -that not to have paid me for them would have been to have plundered a -shipwreck, which had been worse than to have robbed an hospital. - -At last I told him I had two requests to make to him, which must not be -denied. I told him I had a small present to make him, which I would -give him a reason why he should not refuse to accept; and the second -request I would make after the first was granted. He said he would have -accepted my present from me if I had not been under a disaster, but as -it was it would be cruel and ungenerous. But I told him he was obliged -to hear my reason for his accepting it. Then I told him that this -parcel was made up for him by name by my wife and I in Virginia, and -his name set on the marks of the bale, and accordingly I showed him the -marks, which was indeed on one of the bales, but I had doubled it now, -as above, so that I told him these were his own proper goods; and, in -short, I pressed him so to receive them that he made a bow; and I said -no more, but ordered my negro, that is to say, his negro that waited on -me, to carry them all, except the two boxes, into his apartments, but -would not let him see the particulars till they were all carried away. - -After he was gone about a quarter of an hour, he came in raving and -almost swearing, and in a great passion, but I could easily see he was -exceedingly pleased; and told me, had he known the particulars, he -would never have suffered them to have gone as he did, and at last used -the very same compliment that the governor at the Havannah used, viz., -that it was a present fit for a viceroy of Mexico rather than for him. - -When he had done, he then told me he remembered I had two requests to -him, and that one was not to be told till after the first was granted, -and he hoped now I had something to ask of him that was equal to the -obligation I laid upon him. - -I told him I knew it was not the custom in Spain for a stranger to make -presents to the ladies, and that I would not in the least doubt but -that, whatever the ladies of his family required as proper for their -use, he would appropriate to them as he thought fit; but that there -were two little boxes in the parcel which my wife with her own hand had -directed to the ladies; and I begged he would be pleased with his own -hand to give them in my wife’s name, as directed; that I was only the -messenger, but that I could not be honest if I did not discharge myself -of the trust reposed in me. - -These were the two boxes of ribands and lace, which, knowing the nicety -of the ladies in Spain, or rather of the Spaniards about their women, I -had made my wife pack up, and directed with her own hand, as I have -said. - -He smiled, and told me it was true the Spaniards did not ordinarily -admit so much freedom among the women as other nations; but he hoped, -he said, I would not think the Spaniards thought all their women -whores, or that all Spaniards were jealous of their wives; that, as to -my present, since he had agreed to accept of it, I should have the -direction of what part I pleased to his wife and daughters; for he had -three daughters. - -Here I strained courtesies again, and told him by no means; I would -direct nothing of that kind. I only begged that he would with his own -hand present to his donna, or lady, the present designed her by my -wife, and that he would present it in her name, now living in Virginia. -He was extremely pleased with the nicety I used; and I saw him present -it to her accordingly, and could see, at the opening of it, that she -was extremely pleased with the present itself, as indeed might very -well be, for in that country it was worth a very considerable sum of -money. - -Though I was used with an uncommon friendship before, and nothing could -well be desired more, yet the grateful sense I showed of it in the -magnificence of this present was not lost, and the whole family -appeared sensible of it; so that I must allow that presents, where they -can be made in such a manner, are not without their influence, where -the persons were not at all mercenary either before or after. - -I had here now a most happy and comfortable retreat, though it was a -kind of an exile. Here I enjoyed everything I could think of that was -agreeable and pleasant, except only a liberty of going home, which, for -that reason perhaps, was the only thing I desired in the world; for the -grief of one absent comfort is oftentimes capable of embittering all -the other enjoyments in the world. - -Here I enjoyed the moments which I had never before known how to -employ—I mean that here I learned to look back upon a long ill-spent -life, blessed with infinite advantage, which I had no heart given me -till now to make use of, and here I found just reflections were the -utmost felicity of human life. - -Here I wrote these memoirs, having to add to the pleasure of looking -back with due reflections the benefit of a violent fit of the gout, -which, as it is allowed by most people, clears the head, restores the -memory, and qualifies us to make the most, and just, and useful remarks -upon our own actions. - -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 has caused it to be. If any one that reads my story pleases to -make the same just reflections which I acknowledge I ought to have -made, he will reap the benefit of my misfortunes perhaps more than I -have done myself. ’Tis 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 lives may be many ways made useful and -instructing to those who read them, if moral and religious improvement -and reflections are made by those that write them. - -There remains many things in the course of this unhappy life of mine, -though I have left so little a part of it to speak of, that is worth -giving a large and distinct account of, and which gives room for just -reflections of a kind which I have not made yet. Particularly, I think -it just to add how, in collecting the various changes and turns in my -affairs, I saw clearer than ever I had done before how an invincible -overruling Power, a hand influenced from above, governs all our actions -of every kind, limits all our designs, and orders the events of -everything relating to us. - -And from this observation it necessarily occurred to me how just it was -that we should pay the homage of all events to Him; that as He guided, -and had even made the chain of cause and consequences, which nature in -general strictly obeyed, so to Him should be given the honour of all -events, the consequences of those causes, as the first Mover and Maker -of all things. - -I, who had hitherto lived, as might be truly said, without God in the -world, began now to see farther into all those things than I had ever -yet been capable of before, and this brought me at last to look with -shame and blushes upon such a course of wickedness as I had gone -through in the world. I had been bred, indeed, to nothing of either -religious or moral knowledge. What I gained of either was, first, by -the little time of civil life which I lived in Scotland, where my -abhorrence of the wickedness of my captain and comrade, and some sober, -religious company I fell into, first gave me some knowledge of good and -evil, and showed me the beauty of a sober, religious life, though, with -my leaving that country, it soon left me too; or, secondly, the modest -hints and just reflections of my steward, whom I called my tutor, who -was a man of sincere religion, good principles, and a real, true -penitent for his past miscarriages. Oh! had I with him sincerely -repented of what was past, I had not for twenty-four years together -lived a life of levity and profligate wickedness after it. - -But here I had, as I said, leisure to reflect and to repent, to call to -mind things past, and, with a just detestation, learn, as Job says, to -abhor myself in dust and ashes. - -It is with this temper that I have written my story. I would have all -that design to read it prepare to do so with the temper of penitents, -and remember with how much advantage they may make their penitent -reflections at home, under the merciful dispositions of Providence, in -peace, plenty, and ease, rather than abroad, under the discipline of a -transported criminal, as my wife and my tutor, or under the miseries -and distresses of a shipwrecked wanderer, as my skipper or captain of -the sloop, who, as I hear, died a very great penitent, labouring in the -deserts and mountains to find his way home to Virginia, by the way of -Carolina, whither the rest of the crew reached after infinite dangers -and hardships; or in exile, however favourably circumstanced, as mine, -in absence from my family, and for some time in no probable view of -ever seeing them any more. - -Such, I say, may repent with advantage; but how few are they that -seriously look in till their way is hedged up and they have no other -way to look! - -Here, I say, I had leisure to repent. How far it pleases God to give -the grace of repentance where He gives the opportunity of it is not for -me to say of myself. It is sufficient that I recommend it to all that -read this story, that, when they find their lives come up in any degree -to any similitude of cases, they will inquire by me, and ask -themselves, Is not this the time to repent? Perhaps the answer may -touch them. - -I have only to add to what was then written, that my kind friends the -Spaniards, finding no other method presented for conveying me to my -home—that is to say, to Virginia—got a license for me to come in the -next galleons, as a Spanish merchant, to Cadiz, where I arrived safe -with all my treasure; for he suffered me to be at no expenses in his -house; and from Cadiz I soon got my passage on board an English -merchantship for London, from whence I sent an account of my adventures -to my wife, and where, in about five months more, she came over to me, -leaving with full satisfaction the management of all our affairs in -Virginia in the same faithful hands as before. - -END OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL JACQUE - - - -THE TRUE-BORN ENGLISHMAN - -AN EXPLANATORY PREFACE - -It is not that I see any reason to alter my opinion in anything I have -written which occasions this epistle, but I find it necessary, for the -satisfaction of some persons of honour as well as wit, to pass a short -explication upon it, and tell the world what I mean, or rather what I -do not mean, in some things wherein I find I am liable to be -misunderstood. - -I confess myself something surprised to hear that I am taxed with -bewraying my own nest and abusing our nation by discovering the -meanness of our original, in order to make the English contemptible -abroad and at home; in which I think they are mistaken. For why should -not our neighbours be as good as we to derive from? And I must add -that, had we been an unmixed nation, I am of opinion it had been to our -disadvantage. For, to go no further, we have three nations about us as -clear from mixtures of blood as any in the world, and I know not which -of them I could wish ourselves to be like—I mean the Scots, the Welsh, -and Irish; and if I were to write a reverse to the satire, I would -examine all the nations of Europe, and prove that those nations which -are most mixed are the best, and have least of barbarism and brutality -among them; and abundance of reasons might be given for it, too long to -bring into a preface. - -But I give this hint to let the world know that I am far from thinking -it is a satire upon the English nation to tell them they are derived -from all the nations under heaven—that is, from several nations. Nor is -it meant to undervalue the original of the English, for we see no -reason to like them the worse, being the relics of Nomans, Danes, -Saxons, and Normans, than we should have done if they had remained -Britons; that is, than if they had been all Welshmen. - -But the intent of the satire is pointed at the vanity of those who talk -of their antiquity and value themselves upon their pedigree, their -ancient families, and being true-born; whereas it is impossible we -should be true-born, and if we could, should have lost by the bargain. - -Those sort of people who call themselves true-born and tell long -stories of their families, and, like a nobleman of Venice, think a -foreigner ought not to walk on the same side of the street with them, -are owned to be meant in this satire. What they would infer from their -own original I know not, nor is it easy to make out whether they are -the better or the worse for their ancestors. Our English nation may -value themselves for their wit, wealth, and courage, and I believe few -will dispute it with them; but for long originals and ancient true-born -families of English, I would advise them to waive the discourse. A true -Englishman is one that deserves a character, and I have nowhere -lessened him that I know of; but as for a true-born Englishman, I -confess I do not understand him. - -From hence I only infer that an Englishman, of all men, ought not to -despise foreigners as such, and I think the inference is just, since -what they are to-day we were yesterday, and to-morrow they will be like -us. If foreigners misbehave in their several stations and employments, -I have nothing to do with that; the laws are open to punish them -equally with natives, and let them have no favour. - -But when I see the town full of lampoons and invectives against -Dutchmen only because they are foreigners, and the King reproached and -insulted by insolent pedants and ballad-making poets for employing -foreigners, and for being a foreigner himself, I confess myself moved -by it to remind our nation of their own original, thereby to let them -see what a banter is put upon ourselves in it, since, speaking of -Englishmen _ab origine_, we are really foreigners ourselves. - -I could go on to prove it is also impolitic in us to discourage -foreigners, since it is easy to make it appear that the multitudes of -foreign nations who have taken sanctuary here have been the greatest -additions to the wealth and strength of the nation, the great essential -whereof is the number of its in habitants. Nor would this nation have -ever arrived to the degree of wealth and glory it now boasts of if the -addition of foreign nations, both as to manufactures and arms, had not -been helpful to it. This is so plain that he who is ignorant of it is -too dull to be talked with. - -The satire, therefore, I must allow to be just till I am otherwise -convinced, because nothing can be more ridiculous than to hear our -people boast of that antiquity which, if it had been true, would have -left us in so much worse a condition than we are in now; whereas we -ought rather to boast among our neighbours that we are a part of -themselves, or the same original as they, but bettered by our climate, -and, like our language and manufactures, derived from them and improved -by us to a perfection greater than they can pretend to. - -This we might have valued ourselves upon without vanity; but to disown -our descent from them, talking big of our ancient families and long -originals, and stand at a distance from foreigners, like the enthusiast -in religion, with a “Stand off; I am more holy than thou!”—this is a -thing so ridiculous in a nation, derived from foreigners as we are, -that I could not but attack them as I have done. - -And whereas I am threatened to be called to a public account for this -freedom, and the publisher of this has been new-papered in gaol already -for it, though I see nothing in it for which the Government can be -displeased, yet if at the same time those people who, with an unlimited -arrogance in print, every day affront the King, prescribe the -Parliament, and lampoon the Government may be either punished or -restrained, I am content to stand and fall with the public justice of -my native country which I am not sensible I have anywhere injured. - -Nor would I be misunderstood concerning the clergy, with whom, if I -have taken any license more than becomes a satire, I question not but -those gentlemen, who are men of letters, are also men of so much -candour as to allow me a loose at the crimes of the guilty without -thinking the whole profession lashed, who are innocent. I profess to -have very mean thoughts of those gentlemen who have deserted their own -principles, and exposed even their morals as well as loyalty, but not -at all to think it affects any but such as are concerned in the fact. - -Nor would I be misrepresented as to the ingratitude of the English to -the King and his friends, as if I meant the English as a nation are so. -The contrary is so apparent, that I would hope it should not be -suggested of me; and, therefore, when I have brought in Britannia -speaking of the King, I suppose her to be the representative or mouth -of the nation as a body. But if I say we are full of such who daily -affront the King and abuse his friends, who print scurrilous pamphlets, -virulent lampoons, and reproachful public banter against both the -King’s person and Government, I say nothing but what is too true. And -that the satire is directed at such I freely own, and cannot say but I -should think it very hard to be censured for this satire while such -remain unquestioned and tacitly approved. That I can mean none but such -is plain from these few lines:— - -“Ye Heavens, regard! Almighty Jove, look down, -And view thy injured monarch on the throne. -On their ungrateful heads due vengeance take Who sought his aid and -then his part forsake.” - -If I have fallen upon our vices, I hope none but the vicious will be -angry. As for writing for interest, I disown it. I have neither place, -nor pension, nor prospect; nor seek none, nor will have none. If matter -of fact justifies the truth of the crimes, the satire is just. As to -the poetic liberties, I hope the crime is pardonable. I am content to -be stoned provided none will attack me but the innocent. - -If my countrymen would take the hint and grow better-natured from my -ill-natured poem, as some call it, I would say this of it, that though -it is far from the best satire that ever was written, it would do the -most good that ever satire did. - -And yet I am ready to ask pardon of some gentlemen too, who, though -they are Englishmen, have good-nature enough to see themselves -reproved, and can bear it. Those are gentlemen in a true sense that can -bear to be told of their _faux pas_ and not abuse the reprover. To such -I must say this is no satire; they are exceptions to the general rule; -and I value my performance from their generous approbation more than I -can from any opinion I have of its worth. - -The hasty errors of my verse I made my excuse for before; and since the -time I have been upon it has been but little, and my leisure less, I -have all along strove rather to make the thoughts explicit than the -poem correct. However, I have mended some faults in this edition, and -the rest must be placed to my account. - -As to answers, banters, true English Billingsgate, I expect them till -nobody will buy, and then the shop will be shut. Had I wrote it for the -gain of the press, I should have been concerned at its being printed -again and again by pirates, as they call them, and paragraph-men; but -would they but do it justice and print it true according to the copy, -they are welcome to sell it for a penny if they please. - -The pence indeed is the end of their works. I will engage, if nobody -will buy, nobody will write. And not a patriot-poet of them all now -will, in defence of his native country—which I have abused, they -say—print an answer to it, and give it about for God’s sake. - - - - -THE PREFACE - - -The end of satire is reformation; and the author, though he doubts the -work of conversion is at a general stop, has put his hand to the -plough. - -I expect a storm of ill language from the fury of the town, and -especially from those whose English talent it is to rail. And without -being taken for a conjuror, I may venture to foretell that I shall be -cavilled at about my mean style, rough verse, and incorrect language; -things I might indeed have taken more care in, but the book is printed; -and though I see some faults, it is too late to mend them. And this is -all I think needful to say to them. - -Possibly somebody may take me for a Dutchman, in which they are -mistaken. But I am one that would be glad to see Englishmen behave -themselves better to strangers and to governors also, that one might -not be reproached in foreign countries for belonging to a nation that -wants manners. - -I assure you, gentlemen, strangers use us better abroad; and we can -give no reason but our ill-nature for the contrary here. - -Methinks an Englishman, who is so proud of being called a good fellow, -should be civil; and it cannot be denied but we are in many cases, and -particularly to strangers, the churlishest people alive. - -As to vices, who can dispute our intemperance, while an honest drunken -fellow is a character in a man’s praise? All our reformations are -banters, and will be so till our magistrates and gentry reform -themselves by way of example. Then, and not till then, they may be -expected to punish others without blushing. - -As to our ingratitude, I desire to be understood of that particular -people who, pretending to be Protestants, have all along endeavoured to -reduce the liberties and religion of this nation into the hands of King -James and his Popish Powers; together with such who enjoy the peace and -protection of the present Government, and yet abuse and affront the -King, who procured it, and openly profess their uneasiness under him. -These, by whatsoever names or titles they are dignified or -distinguished, are the people aimed at; nor do I disown but that it is -so much the temper of an Englishman to abuse his benefactor that I -could be glad to see it rectified. - -Those who think I have been guilty of any error in exposing the crimes -of my own countrymen to themselves may, among many honest instances of -the like nature, find the same thing in Mr. Cowley, in his imitation of -the second Olympic ode of Pindar. His words are these— - - -“But in this thankless world the givers -Are envied even by the receivers: -’Tis now the cheap and frugal fashion Rather to hide than pay an -obligation. -Nay, ’tis much worse than so; It now an artifice doth grow Wrongs and -outrages to do, -Lest men should think we owe.” - - - - - -THE INTRODUCTION - -Speak, Satire; for there’s none can tell like thee -Whether ’tis folly, pride, or knavery -That makes this discontented land appear -Less happy now in times of peace than war? -Why civil feuds disturb the nation more -Than all our bloody wars have done before? -Fools out of favour grudge at knaves in place -And men are always honest in disgrace: -The Court preferments make men knaves in course; -But they which would be in them would be worse. -’Tis not at foreigners that we repine, -Would foreigners their perquisites resign: -The grand contention ’s plainly to be seen, -To get some men put out, and some put in. -For this our Senators make long harangues, -And florid Members whet their polished tongues. -Statesmen are always sick of one disease, -And a good pension gives them present ease: -That’s the specific makes them all content -With any King and any Government. -Good patriots at Court abuses rail, -And all the nation’s grievances bewail; -But when the sovereign balsam’s once applied, -The zealot never fails to change his side; -And when he must the golden key resign, -The railing spirit comes about again. -Who shall this bubbled nation disabuse, -While they their own felicities refuse, -Who at the wars have made such mighty pother, -And now are falling out with one another: -With needless fears the jealous nation fill, -And always have been saved against their will: -Who fifty millions sterling have disbursed, -To be with peace and too much plenty cursed: -Who their old monarch eagerly undo, -And yet uneasily obey the new? -Search, Satire, search: a deep incision make; -The poison’s strong, the antidote’s too weak. -’Tis pointed Truth must manage this dispute, -And downright English, Englishmen confute. -Whet thy just anger at the nation’s pride, -And with keen phrase repel the vicious tide; -To Englishmen their own beginnings show, -And ask them why they slight their neighbours so. -Go back to elder times and ages past, -And nations into long oblivion cast; -To old Britannia’s youthful days retire, -And there for true-born Englishmen inquire. -Britannia freely will disown the name, -And hardly knows herself from whence they came -Wonders that they of all men should pretend -To birth and blood, and for a name contend. -Go back to causes where our follies dwell, -And fetch the dark original from hell: -Speak, Satire, for there’s none like thee can tell. - -THE TRUE-BORN ENGLISHMAN - -PART I - -Wherever God erects a house of prayer, -The Devil always builds a chapel there:[11] -And ’twill be found upon examination, -The latter has the largest congregation: -For ever since he first debauched the mind, -He made a perfect conquest of mankind. -With uniformity of service, he -Reigns with a general aristocracy. -No non-conforming sects disturb his reign, -For of his yoke there’s very few complain. -He knows the genius and the inclination, -And matches proper sins for every nation, -He needs no standing-army government; -He always rules us by our own consent: -His laws are easy, and his gentle sway -Makes it exceeding pleasant to obey: -The list of his vicegerents and commanders, -Outdoes your Cæsars or your Alexanders. -They never fail of his infernal aid, -And he’s as certain ne’er to be betrayed. -Through all the world they spread his vast command, -And Death’s eternal empire is maintained. -They rule so politicly and so well, -As if they were Lords Justices of Hell, -Duly divided to debauch mankind, -And plant infernal dictates in his mind. -Pride, the first peer, and president of Hell, -To his share Spain, the largest province, fell. -The subtile Prince thought fittest to bestow -On these the golden mines of Mexico, -With all the silver mountains of Peru, -Wealth which would in wise hands the world undo: -Because he knew their genius was such, -Too lazy and too haughty to be rich. -So proud a people, so above their fate, -That if reduced to beg, they’ll beg in state; -Lavish of money to be counted brave, -And proudly starve because they scorn to save. -Never was nation in the world before -So very rich and yet so very poor. -Lust chose the torrid zone of Italy, -Where blood ferments in rapes and sodomy: -Where swelling veins overflow with liquid streams, -With heat impregnate from Vesuvian flames: -Whose flowing sulphur forms infernal lakes, -And human body of the soil partakes. -Their nature ever burns with hot desires, -Fanned with luxuriant air from subterranean fires; -Here, undisturbed in floods of scalding lust, -The Infernal King reigns with infernal gust. -Drunkenness, the darling favourite of Hell, -Chose Germany to rule; and rules so well, -No subjects more obsequiously obey, -None please so well or are so pleased as they. -The cunning artist manages so well, -He lets them bow to Heaven and drink to Hell. -If but to wine and him they homage pay, -He cares not to what deity they pray, -What God they worship most, or in what way. -Whether by Luther, Calvin, or by Rome -They sail for Heaven, by Wine he steers them home. -Ungoverned Passion settled first in France, -Where mankind lives in haste and thrives by chance; -A dancing nation, fickle and untrue, -Have oft undone themselves and others too; -Prompt the infernal dictates to obey, -And in Hell’s favour none more great than they. -The Pagan world he blindly leads away, -And personally rules with arbitrary sway; -The mask thrown off, plain Devil his title stands, -And what elsewhere he tempts he there commands. -There with full gust the ambition of his mind -Governs, as he of old in Heaven designed. -Worshipped as God, his Paynim altars smoke, -Embrued with blood of those that him invoke. -The rest by Deputies he rules as well, -And plants the distant colonies of Hell. -By them his secret power he maintains, -And binds the world in his infernal chains. -By Zeal the Irish, and the Russ by Folly -Fury the Dane, the Swede by Melancholy; -By stupid Ignorance the Muscovite; -The Chinese by a child of Hell called Wit -Wealth makes the Persian too effeminate, -And Poverty the Tartars desperate; -The Turks and Moors by Mah’met he subdues, -And God has given him leave to rule the Jews. -Rage rules the Portuguese and Fraud the Scotch, -Revenge the Pole and Avarice the Dutch. -Satire, be kind, and draw a silent veil -Thy native England’s vices to conceal; -Or, if that task’s impossible to do, -At least be just and show her virtues too— -Too great the first; alas, the last too few! -England, unknown as yet, unpeopled lay; -Happy had she remained so to this day, -And not to every nation been a prey. -Her open harbours and her fertile plains -(The merchant’s glory those, and these the swain’s) -To every barbarous nation have betrayed her, -Who conquer her as oft as they invade her; -So beauty’s guarded but by innocence, -That ruins her, which should be her defence. -Ingratitude, a devil of black renown, -Possessed her very early for his own. -An ugly, surly, sullen, selfish spirit, -Who Satan’s worst perfections does inherit; -Second to him in malice and in force, -All devil without, and all within him worse. -He made her first-born race to be so rude, -And suffered her so oft to be subdued; -By several crowds of wandering thieves o’errun, -Often unpeopled, and as oft undone; -While every nation that her powers reduced -Their languages and manners introduced. -From whose mixed relics our compounded breed -By spurious generation does succeed, -Making a race uncertain and uneven, -Derived from all the nations under Heaven. -The Romans first with Julius Cæsar came, -Including all the nations of that name, -Gauls, Greeks, and Lombards, and, by computation -Auxiliaries or slaves of every nation. -With Hengist, Saxons; Danes with Sueno came, -In search of plunder, not in search of fame. -Scots, Picts, and Irish from the Hibernian shore, -And conquering William brought the Normans o’er. -All these their barbarous offspring left behind, -The dregs of armies, they of all mankind; -Blended with Britons, who before were here, -Of whom the Welsh ha’ blessed the character. -From this amphibious ill-born mob began -That vain, ill-natured thing, an Englishman. -The customs, surnames, languages, and manners -Of all these nations are their own explainers: -Whose relics are so lasting and so strong, -They ha’ left a shibboleth upon our tongue, -By which with easy search you may distinguish -Your Roman-Saxon-Danish Norman English. -The great invading Norman[12] let us know -What conquerors in after times might do. -To every musketeer[13] he brought to town, -He gave the lands which never were his own. -When first the English crown he did obtain, -He did not send his Dutchmen back again. -No reassumptions in his reign were known, -D’Avenant might there ha’ let his book alone. -No Parliament his army could disband; -He raised no money, for he paid in land. -He gave his legions their eternal station, -And made them all freeholders of the nation. -He cantoned out the country to his men, -And every soldier was a denizen. -The rascals thus enriched, he called them lords, -To please their upstart pride with new-made words, -And Doomsday Book his tyranny records. -And here begins our ancient pedigree, -That so exalts our poor nobility: -’Tis that from some French trooper they derive, -Who with the Norman bastard did arrive; -The trophies of the families appear, -Some show the sword, the bow, and some the spear, -Which their great ancestor, forsooth, did wear. -These in the herald’s register remain, -Their noble mean extraction to explain, -Yet who the hero was, no man can tell, -Whether a drummer or a colonel: -The silent record blushes to reveal -Their undescended dark original. -But grant the best, how came the change to pass, -A true-born Englishman of Norman race? -A Turkish horse can show more history -To prove his well-descended family. -Conquest, as by the moderns[14] ’tis expressed, -May give a title to the lands possessed: -But that the longest sword should be so civil -To make a Frenchman English, that’s the devil. -These are the heroes that despise the Dutch, -And rail at new-come foreigners so much, -Forgetting that themselves are all derived -From the most scoundrel race that ever lived; -A horrid crowd of rambling thieves and drones, -Who ransacked kingdoms and dispeopled towns, -The Pict and painted Briton, treacherous Scot, -By hunger, /theft, and rapine hither brought; -Norwegian pirates, buccaneering Danes, -Whose red-haired offspring everywhere remains, -Who, joined with Norman-French, compound the breed -From whence your true-born Englishmen proceed. -And lest by length of time it be pretended -The climate may this modern breed ha’ mended, -Wise Providence, to keep us where we are, -Mixes us daily with exceeding care. -We have been Europe’s sink, the jakes where she -Voids all her offal outcast progeny. -From the eighth Henry’s time, the strolling bands -Of banished fugitives from neighbouring lands -Have here a certain sanctuary found: -The eternal refuge of the vagabond, -Where, in but half a common age of time, -Borrowing new blood and manners from the clime, -Proudly they learn all mankind to contemn, -And all their race are true-born Englishmen. -Dutch, Walloons, Flemings, Irishmen, and Scots, -Vaudois and Valtelins, and Hugonots, -In good Queen Bess’s charitable reign, -Supplied us with three hundred thousand men. -Religion—God, we thank Thee!—sent them hither -Priests, Protestants, the Devil and all together: -Of all professions and of every trade, -All that were persecuted or afraid; -Whether for debt or other crimes they fled, -David at Hachilah was still their head. -The offspring of this miscellaneous crowd -Had not their new plantations long enjoyed, -But they grew Englishmen, and raised their votes -At foreign shoals for interloping Scots. -The royal branch[15] from Pictland did succeed, -With troops of Scots and Scabs from North-by-Tweed. -The seven first years of his pacific reign -Made him and half his nation Englishmen. -Scots from the northern frozen banks of Tay, -With packs and plods came whigging all away: -Thick as the locusts which in Egypt swarmed, -With pride and hungry hopes completely armed; -With native truth, diseases, and no money, -Plundered our Canaan of the milk and honey. -Here they grew quickly lords and gentlemen, -And all their race are true-born Englishmen. -The civil wars, the common purgative, -Which always use to make the nation thrive, -Made way for all that strolling congregation -Which thronged in Pious Charles’s restoration.[16] -The royal refugee our breed restores, -With foreign courtiers and with foreign whores, -And carefully repeopled us again, -Throughout his lazy, long, lascivious reign, -With such a blest and true-born English fry, -As much illustrates our nobility. -A gratitude which will so black appear, -As future ages must abhor to hear, -When they look back on all that crimson flood, -Which streamed in Lindsay’s and Carnarvon’s blood, -Bold Strafford, Cambridge, Capel, Lucas, Lisle, -Who crowned in death his father’s funeral pile. -The loss of whom, in order to supply, -With true-born English nationality, -Six bastard Dukes survive his luscious reign, -The labours of Italian Castlemaine,[17] -French Portsmouth,[18] Tabby Scot, and Cambrian. -Besides the numerous bright and virgin throng, -Whose female glories shade them from my song. -This offspring, if one age they multiply, -May half the house with English peers supply; -There with true English pride they may contemn -Schomberg and Portland,[19] new made noblemen. -French cooks, Scotch pedlars, and Italian whores, -Were all made lords or lords’ progenitors. -Beggars and bastards by his new creation -Much multiplied the peerage of the nation; -Who will be all, ere one short age runs o’er. -As true-born lords as those we had before. -Then to recruit the Commons he prepares -And heal the latent breaches of the wars; -The pious purpose better to advance, -He invites the banished Protestants of France: -Hither for God’s sake and their own they fled, -Some for religion came, and some for bread; -Two hundred thousand pairs of wooden shoes, -Who, God be thanked, had nothing left to lose, -To Heaven’s great praise did for religion fly, -To make us starve our poor in charity. -In every port they plant their fruitful train, -To get a race of true-born Englishmen; -Whose children will, when riper years they see, -Be as ill-natured and as proud as we; -Call themselves English, foreigners despise, -Be surly like us all, and just as wise. -Thus from a mixture of all kinds began -That heterogeneous thing an Englishman; -In eager rapes and furious lust begot, -Betwixt a painted Briton and a Scot; -Whose gendering offspring quickly learned to bow, -And yoke their heifers to the Roman plough; -From whence a mongrel half-bred race there came, -With neither name nor nation, speech nor fame; -In whose hot veins new mixtures quickly ran, -Infused betwixt a Saxon and a Dane; -While their rank daughters, to their parents just, -Received all nations with promiscuous lust. -This nauseous brood directly did contain -The well-extracted brood of Englishmen. -Which medley cantoned in a Heptarchy, -A rhapsody of nations to supply, -Among themselves maintained eternal wars, -And still the ladies loved the conquerors. -The Western Angles all the rest subdued, -A bloody nation, barbarous and rude, -Who by the tenure of the sword possessed -One part of Britain, and subdued the rest. -And as great things denominate the small, -The conquering part gave title to the whole; -The Scot, Pict, Briton, Roman, Dane, submit, -And with the English-Saxon all unite; -And these the mixtures have so close pursued, -The very name and memory’s subdued. -No Roman now, no Briton does remain; -Wales strove to separate, but strove in vain; -The silent nations undistinguished fall, -And Englishman’s the common name of all. -Fate jumbled them together, God knows how; -What e’er they were, they’re true-born English now. -The wonder which remains is at our pride, -To value that which all men else deride. -For Englishmen to boast of generation -Cancels their knowledge and lampoons the nation. -A true-born Englishman’s a contradiction, -In speech an irony, in fact a fiction; -A banter made to be a test to fools, -Which those that use it justly ridicules; -A metaphor invented to express -A man akin to all the universe. -For, as the Scots, as learned men have said, -Throughout the world their wandering seed have spread; -So open-handed England, ’tis believed, -Has all the gleanings of the world received. -Some think of England, ’twas our Saviour meant, -The Gospel should to all the world be sent, -Since, when the blessed sound did hither reach, -They to all nations might be said to preach. -’Tis well that virtue gives nobility, -How shall we else the want of birth and blood supply? -Since scarce one family is left alive -Which does not from some foreigner derive. -Of sixty thousand English gentlemen, -Whose name and arms in registers remain, -We challenge all our heralds to declare -Ten families which English-Saxons are. -France justly owns the ancient noble line -Of Bourbon, Montmorency, and Lorraine, -The Germans too their House of Austria show -And Holland their invincible Nassau, -Lines which in heraldry were ancient grown -Before the name of Englishman was known. -Even Scotland, too, her elder glory shows, -Her Gordons, Hamiltons, and her Monros, -Douglas, Mackays, and Grahams, names well known -Long before ancient England knew her own. -But England, modern to the last degree -Borrows or makes her own nobility, -And yet she boldly boasts of pedigree; -Repines that foreigners are put upon her, -And talks of her antiquity and honour; -Her Sackvilles, Saviles, Capels, De la Meres, -Mohuns, and Montagues, Darcys, and Veres, -Not one have English names, yet all are English peers. -Your Hermans, Papillons, and Lavalliers -Pass now for true-born English knights and squires, -And make good senate members or Lord Mayors. -Wealth, howsoever got, in England makes -Lords of mechanics, gentlemen of rakes: -Antiquity and birth are needless here; -’Tis impudence and money makes a peer. -Innumerable City knights, we know, -From Bluecoat Hospital and Bridewell flow; -Draymen and porters fill the city Chair -And footboys magisterial purple wear. -Fate has but very small distinction set -Betwixt the counter and the coronet. -Tarpaulin lords, pages of high renown, -Rise up by poor men’s valour, not their own. -Great families of yesterday we show, -And lords whose parents were the Lord knows who. - - - - -PART II - - -The breed’s described: Now, Satire, if you can, -Their temper show, for manners make the man. -Fierce, as the Briton; as the Roman, brave; -And less inclined to conquer than to save; -Eager to fight, and lavish of their blood, -And equally of fear and forecast void. -The Pict has made ’em sour, the Dane morose; -False from the Scot, and from the Norman worse. -What honesty they have, the Saxons gave them, -And that, now they grow old, begins to leave them. -The climate makes them terrible and bold, -And English beef their courage does uphold; -No danger can their daring spirit pall, -Always provided that their belly’s full. -In close intrigues their faculty’s but weak, -For generally what e’er they know they speak, -And often their own counsels undermine -By their infirmity, and not design; -From whence the learned say it does proceed, -That English treasons never can succeed; -For they’re so open-hearted, you may know -Their own most secret thoughts, and others too. -The lab’ring poor, in spite of double pay, -Are saucy, mutinous, and beggarly, -So lavish of their money and their time, -That want of forecast is the nation’s crime. -Good drunken company is their delight, -And what they get by day they spend by night. -Dull thinking seldom does their heads engage, -But drink their youth away, and hurry on old age. -Empty of all good husbandry and sense, -And void of manners most when void of pence, -Their strong aversion to behaviour’s such, -They always talk too little or too much; -So dull, they never take the pains to think, -And seldom are good-natured, but in drink. -In English ale their dear enjoyment lies, -For which they’ll starve themselves and families. -An Englishman will fairly drink as much -As will maintain two families of Dutch: -Subjecting all their labour to their pots; -The greatest artists are the greatest sots. -The country poor do by example live; -The gentry lead them, and the clergy drive: -What may we not from such examples hope? -The landlord is their god, the priest their pope. -A drunken clergy and a swearing bench -Has given the Reformation such a drench, -As wise men think there is some cause to doubt -Will purge good manners and religion out. -Nor do the poor alone their liquor prize; -The sages join in this great sacrifice; -The learned men who study Aristotle, -Correct him with an explanation bottle; -Praise Epicurus rather than Lysander, -And Aristippus[20] more than Alexander. -The doctors, too, their Galen here resign, -And generally prescribe specific wine; -The graduate’s study’s grown an easier task, -While for the urinal they toss the flask; -The surgeon’s art grows plainer every hour, -And wine’s the balm which into wounds they pour. -Poets long since Parnassus have forsaken, -And say the ancient bards were all mistaken. -Apollo’s lately abdicate and fled, -And good King Bacchus governs in his stead; -He does the chaos of the head refine, -And atom-thoughts jump into words by wine: -The inspirations of a finer nature, -As wine must needs excel Parnassus’ water. -Statesmen their weighty politics refine, -And soldiers raise their courages by wine; -Cecilia gives her choristers their choice, -And lets them all drink wine to clear their voice. -Some think the clergy first found out the way, -And wine’s the only spirit by which they pray; -But others, less profane than so, agree -It clears the lungs and helps the memory; -And therefore all of them divinely think, -Instead of study, ’tis as well to drink. -And here I would be very glad to know -Whether our Asgilites may drink or no; -Th’ enlight’ning fumes of wine would certainly -Assist them much when they begin to fly; -Or if a fiery chariot should appear, -Inflamed by wine, they’d have the less to fear. -Even the gods themselves, as mortals say, -Were they on earth, would be as drunk as they; -Nectar would be no more celestial drink, -They’d all take wine, to teach them how to think. -But English drunkards gods and men outdo, -Drink their estates away, and money too. -Colon’s in debt, and if his friends should fail -To help him out, must die at at last in gaol; -His wealthy uncle sent a hundred nobles -To pay his trifles off, and rid him of his troubles; -But Colon, like a true-born Englishman, -Drank all the money out in bright champagne, -And Colon does in custody remain. -Drunk’ness has been the darling of this realm -E’er since a drunken pilot had the helm. -In their religion they are so uneven, -That each man goes his own by-way to Heaven, -Tenacious of mistakes to that degree -That ev’ry man pursues it separately, -And fancies none can find the way but he: -So shy of one another they are grown, -As if they strove to get to Heaven alone. -Rigid and zealous, positive and grave, -And ev’ry grace but Charity they have. -This makes them so ill-natured and uncivil, -That all men think an Englishman the devil. -Surly to strangers, froward to their friend; -Submit to love with a reluctant mind. -Resolved to be ungrateful and unkind, -If by necessity reduced to ask, -The giver has the difficultest task; -For what’s bestowed they awkwardly receive, -And always take less freely than they give. -The obligation is their highest grief, -And never love where they accept relief. -So sullen in their sorrow, that ’tis known -They’ll rather die than their afflictions own; -And if relieved, it is too often true -That they’ll abuse their benefactors too; -For in distress, their haughty stomach’s such, -They hate to see themselves obliged too much. -Seldom contented, often in the wrong, -Hard to be pleased at all, and never long. -If your mistakes their ill opinion gain, -No merit can their favour reobtain; -And if they’re not vindictive in their fury, -’Tis their unconstant temper does secure ye. -Their brain’s so cool, their passion seldom burns, -For all’s condensed before the flame returns; -The fermentation’s of so weak a matter, -The humid damps the fume, and runs it all to water. -So, though the inclination may be strong, -They’re pleased by fits, and never angry long. -Then, if good-nature shows some slender proof, -They never think they have reward enough, -But, like our modern Quakers of the town, -Expect your manners, and return you none. -Friendship, th’ abstracted union of the mind, -Which all men seek, but very few can find: -Of all the nations in the universe, -None talk on’t more, or understand it less; -For if it does their property annoy, -Their property their friendship will destroy. -As you discourse them, you shall hear them tell -All things in which they think they do excel. -No panegyric needs their praise record; -An Englishman ne’er wants his own good word. -His long discourses generally appear -Prologued with his own wond’rous character. -But first to illustrate his own good name, -He never fails his neighbour to defame; -And yet he really designs no wrong— -His malice goes no further than his tongue. -But pleased to tattle, he delights to rail, -To satisfy the lech’ry of a tale. -His own dear praises close the ample speech; -Tells you how wise he is—that is, how rich: -For wealth is wisdom; he that’s rich is wise; -And all men learned poverty despise. -His generosity comes next, and then -Concludes that he’s a true-born Englishman; -And they, ’tis known, are generous and free, -Forgetting and forgiving injury: -Which may be true, thus rightly understood, -Forgiving ill turns, and forgetting good. -Cheerful in labour when they’ve undertook it, -But out of humour when they’re out of pocket. -But if their belly and their pocket’s full, -They may be phlegmatic, but never dull: -And if a bottle does their brains refine, -It makes their wit as sparkling as their wine. -As for the general vices which we find -They’re guilty of, in common with mankind, -Satire, forbear, and silently endure; -We must conceal the crimes we cannot cure. -Nor shall my verse the brighter sex defame, -For English beauty will preserve her name, -Beyond dispute, agreeable and fair, -And modester than other nations are: -For where the vice prevails, the great temptation -Is want of money more than inclination. -In general, this only is allowed, -They’re something noisy, and a little proud. -An Englishman is gentlest in command, -Obedience is a stranger in the land: -Hardly subjected to the magistrate, -For Englishmen do all subjection hate; -Humblest when rich, but peevish when they’re poor, -And think, what e’er they have, they merit more. -The meanest English ploughman studies law, -And keeps thereby the magistrates in awe; -Will boldly tell them what they have to do, -And sometimes punish their omissions too. -Their liberty and property’s so dear, -They scorn their laws or governors to fear: -So bugbeared with the name of slavery, -They can’t submit to their own liberty. -Restraint from ill is freedom to the wise; -But Englishmen do all restraint despise. -Slaves to their liquor, drudges to the pots, -The mob are statesmen and their statesmen sots. -Their governors they count such dangerous things, -That ’tis their custom to affront their kings: -So jealous of the power their kings possest, -They suffer neither power nor king to rest. -The bad with force they easily subdue: -The good with constant clamours they pursue; -And did King Jesus reign, they’d murmur too. -A discontented nation, and by far -Harder to rule in times of peace than war: -Easily set together by the ears, -And full of causeless jealousies and fears: -Apt to revolt, and willing to rebel, -And never are contented when they’re well. -No Government could ever please them long, -Could tie their hands, or rectify their tongue: -In this to ancient Israel well compared, -Eternal murmurs are among them heard. -It was but lately that they were oppressed, -Their rights invaded, and their laws suppressed: -When nicely tender of their liberty, -Lord! what a noise they made of slavery. -In daily tumult showed their discontent, -Lampooned the King, and mocked his Government. -And if in arms they did not first appear, -’Twas want of force, and not for want of fear. -In humbler tone than English used to do, -At foreign hands for foreign aid they sue. -William, the great successor of Nassau, -Their prayers heard and their oppressions saw: -He saw and saved them; God and him they praised, -To this their thanks, to that their trophies raised. -But, glutted with their own felicities, -They soon their new deliverer despise; -Say all their prayers back, their joy disown, -Unsing their thanks, and pull their trophies down; -Their harps of praise are on the willows hung, -For Englishmen are ne’er contented long. -The reverend clergy, too! Who would have thought -That they, who had such non-resistance taught, -Should e’er to arms against their prince be brought, -Who up to Heaven did regal power advance, -Subjecting English laws to modes of France, -Twisting religion so with loyalty, -As one could never live and t’other die. -And yet no sooner did their prince design -Their glebes and perquisites to undermine, -But, all their passive doctrines laid aside, -The clergy their own principles denied; -Unpreached their non-resisting cant, and prayed -To Heaven for help and to the Dutch for aid. -The Church chimed all her doctrines back again, -And pulpit champions did the cause maintain; -Flew in the face of all their former zeal, -And non-resistance did at once repeal. -The Rabbis say it would be too prolix -To tie religion up to politics: -The Church’s safety is _suprema lex_. -And so, by a new figure of their own, -Their former doctrines all at once disown; -As laws _post facto_ in the Parliament -In urgent cases have obtained assent, -But are as dangerous precedents laid by, -Made lawful only by necessity. -The reverend fathers then in arms appear, -And men of God become the men of war. -The nation, fired by them, to arms apply, -Assault their Antichristian monarchy; -To their due channel all our laws restore, -And made things what they should have been before. -But when they came to fill the vacant throne, -And the pale priests looked back on what they’d done; -How English liberty began to thrive, -And Church of England loyalty outlive; -How all their persecuting days were done, -And their deliverer placed upon the throne: -The priests, as priests are wont to do, turned tail; -They’re Englishmen, and nature will prevail. -Now they deplore the ruins they have made, -And murmur for the master they betrayed, -Excuse those crimes they could not make him mend, -And suffer for the cause they can’t defend. -Pretend they’d not have carried things so high, -And proto-martyrs make for Popery. -Had the prince done as they designed the thing, -Have set the clergy up to rule the King, -Taken a donative for coming hither, -And so have left their King and them together, -We had, say they, been now a happy nation. -No doubt we had seen a blessed reformation: -For wise men say ’tis as dangerous a thing, -A ruling priesthood as a priest-rid king; -And of all plagues with which mankind are curst, -Ecclesiastic tyranny’s the worst. -If all our former grievances were feigned, -King James has been abused and we trepanned; -Bugbeared with Popery and power despotic, -Tyrannic government and leagues exotic: -The Revolution’s a fanatic plot, -William a tyrant, Sunderland a sot: -A factious army and a poisoned nation -Unjustly forced King James’s abdication. -But if he did the subjects’ rights invade, -Then he was punished only, not betrayed; -And punishing of kings is no such crime, -But Englishmen have done it many a time. -When kings the sword of justice first lay down, -They are no kings, though they possess the crown: -Titles are shadows, crowns are empty things: -The good of subjects is the end of kings; -To guide in war and to protect in peace; -Where tyrants once commence the kings do cease; -For arbitrary power’s so strange a thing, -It makes the tyrant and unmakes the king. -If kings by foreign priests and armies reign, -And lawless power against their oaths maintain, -Then subjects must have reason to complain. -If oaths must bind us when our kings do ill, -To call in foreign aid is to rebel. -By force to circumscribe our lawful prince -Is wilful treason in the largest sense; -And they who once rebel, most certainly -Their God, and king, and former oaths defy. -If we allow no maladministration -Could cancel the allegiance of the nation, -Let all our learned sons of Levi try -This ecclesiastic riddle to untie: -How they could make a step to call the prince, -And yet pretend to oaths and innocence? -By the first address they made beyond the seas, -They’re perjured in the most intense degrees; -And without scruple for the time to come -May swear to all the kings in Christendom. -And truly did our kings consider all, -They’d never let the clergy swear at all; -Their politic allegiance they’d refuse, -For whores and priests do never want excuse. -But if the mutual contract were dissolved, -The doubts explained, the difficulties solved, -That kings, when they descend to tyranny, -Dissolve the bond and leave the subject free, -The government’s ungirt when justice dies, -And constitutions are non-entities; -The nation’s all a mob; there’s no such thing -As Lords or Commons, Parliament or King. -A great promiscuous crowd the hydra lies -Till laws revive and mutual contract ties; -A chaos free to choose for their own share -What case of government they please to wear. -If to a king they do the reins commit, -All men are bound in conscience to submit; -But then that king must by his oath assent -To _postulatus_ of the government, -Which if he breaks, he cuts off the entail, -And power retreats to its original. -This doctrine has the sanction of assent -From Nature’s universal Parliament. -The voice of Nature and the course of things -Allow that laws superior are to kings. -None but delinquents would have justice cease; -Knaves rail at laws as soldiers rail at peace; -For justice is the end of government, -As reason is the test of argument. -No man was ever yet so void of sense -As to debate the right of self-defence, -A principle so grafted in the mind, -With Nature born, and does like Nature bind; -Twisted with reason and with Nature too, -As neither one or other can undo. -Nor can this right be less when national; -Reason, which governs one, should govern all. -Whatever the dialects of courts may tell, -He that his right demands can ne’er rebel, -Which right, if ’tis by governors denied, -May be procured by force or foreign aid; -For tyranny’s a nation’s term of grief, -As folks cry “Fire” to hasten in relief; -And when the hated word is heard about, -All men should come to help the people out. -Thus England groaned—Britannia’s voice was heard, -And great Nassau to rescue her appeared, -Called by the universal voice of Fate— -God and the people’s legal magistrate. -Ye Heavens regard! Almighty Jove look down, -And view thy injured monarch on the throne. -On their ungrateful heads due vengeance take, -Who sought his aid and then his part forsake. -Witness, ye Powers! It was our call alone, -Which now our pride makes us ashamed to own. -Britannia’s troubles fetched him from afar -To court the dreadful casualties of war; -But where requital never can be made, -Acknowledgment’s a tribute seldom paid. -He dwelt in bright Maria’s circling arms, -Defended by the magic of her charms -From foreign fears and from domestic harms. -Ambition found no fuel to her fire; -He had what God could give or man desire. -Till pity roused him from his soft repose, -His life to unseen hazards to expose; -Till pity moved him in our cause t’appear; -Pity! that word which now we hate to hear. -But English gratitude is always such, -To hate the hand which doth oblige too much. -Britannia’s cries gave birth to his intent, -And hardly gained his unforeseen assent; -His boding thoughts foretold him he should find -The people fickle, selfish, and unkind. -Which thought did to his royal heart appear -More dreadful than the dangers of the war; -For nothing grates a generous mind so soon -As base returns for hearty service done. -Satire, be silent! awfully prepare -Britannia’s song and William’s praise to hear. -Stand by, and let her cheerfully rehearse -Her grateful vows in her immortal verse. -Loud Fame’s eternal trumpet let her sound; -Listen, ye distant Poles and endless round. -May the strong blast the welcome news convey -As far as sound can reach or spirit can fly. -To neighb’ring worlds, if such there be, relate -Our hero’s fame, for theirs to imitate. -To distant worlds of spirits let her rehearse: -For spirits, without the help of voice, converse. -May angels hear the gladsome news on high, -Mixed with their everlasting symphony. -And Hell itself stand in suspense to know -Whether it be the fatal blast or no. - - - - -BRITANNIA - - -The fame of virtue ’tis for which I sound, -And heroes with immortal triumphs crowned. -Fame, built on solid virtue, swifter flies -Than morning light can spread my eastern skies. -The gathering air returns the doubling sound, -And loud repeating thunders force it round; -Echoes return from caverns of the deep; -Old Chaos dreamt on’t in eternal sleep; -Time hands it forward to its latest urn, -From whence it never, never shall return; -Nothing is heard so far or lasts so long; -’Tis heard by every ear and spoke by every tongue. -My hero, with the sails of honour furled, -Rises like the great genius of the world. -By Fate and Fame wisely prepared to be -The soul of war and life of victory; -He spreads the wings of virtue on the throne, -And every wind of glory fans them on. -Immortal trophies dwell upon his brow, -Fresh as the garlands he has won but now. -By different steps the high ascent he gains, -And differently that high ascent maintains. -Princes for pride and lust of rule make war, -And struggle for the name of conqueror. -Some fight for fame, and some for victory; -He fights to save, and conquers to set free. -Then seek no phrase his titles to conceal, -And hide with words what actions must reveal, -No parallel from Hebrew stories take -Of god-like kings my similes to make; -No borrowed names conceal my living theme, -But names and things directly I proclaim. -’Tis honest merit does his glory raise, -Whom that exalts let no man fear to praise: -Of such a subject no man need be shy, -Virtue’s above the reach of flattery. -He needs no character but his own fame, -Nor any flattering titles but his name: -William’s the name that’s spoke by every tongue, -William’s the darling subject of my song. -Listen, ye virgins to the charming sound, -And in eternal dances hand it round: -Your early offerings to this altar bring, -Make him at once a lover and a king. -May he submit to none but to your arms, -Nor ever be subdued but by your charms. -May your soft thoughts for him be all sublime, -And every tender vow be made for him. -May he be first in every morning thought, -And Heaven ne’er hear a prayer when he’s left out. -May every omen, every boding dream, -Be fortunate by mentioning his name; -May this one charm infernal power affright, -And guard you from the terrors of the night; -May every cheerful glass, as it goes down -To William’s health, be cordials to your own. -Let every song be chorused with his name, -And music pay a tribute to his fame; -Let every poet tune his artful verse, -And in immortal strains his deeds rehearse. -And may Apollo never more inspire -The disobedient bard with his seraphic fire; -May all my sons their graceful homage pay, -His praises sing, and for his safety pray. -Satire, return to our unthankful isle, -Secured by Heaven’s regard and William’s toil; -To both ungrateful and to both untrue, -Rebels to God, and to good-nature too. -If e’er this nation be distressed again, -To whomsoe’er they cry, they’ll cry in vain; -To Heaven they cannot have the face to look, -Or, if they should, it would but Heaven provoke. -To hope for help from man would be too much, -Mankind would always tell them of the Dutch; -How they came here our freedoms to obtain, -Were paid and cursed, and hurried home again; -How by their aid we first dissolved our fears, -And then our helpers damned for foreigners. -’Tis not our English temper to do better, -For Englishmen think every man their debtor. -’Tis worth observing that we ne’er complained -Of foreigners, nor of the wealth they gained, -Till all their services were at an end. -Wise men affirm it is the English way -Never to grumble till they come to pay, -And then they always think, their temper’s such, -The work too little and the pay too much. -As frightened patients, when they want a cure, -Bid any price, and any pain endure; -But when the doctor’s remedies appear, -The cure’s too easy and the price too dear. -Great Portland ne’er was bantered when he strove -For us his master’s kindest thoughts to move; -We ne’er lampooned his conduct when employed -King James’s secret counsels to divide: -Then we caressed him as the only man -Which could the doubtful oracle explain; -The only Hushai able to repel -The dark designs of our Achitopel; -Compared his master’s courage to his sense, -The ablest statesman and the bravest prince. -On his wise conduct we depended much, -And liked him ne’er the worse for being Dutch. -Nor was he valued more than he deserved, -Freely he ventured, faithfully he served. -In all King William’s dangers he has shared; -In England’s quarrels always he appeared: -The Revolution first, and then the Boyne, -In both his counsels and his conduct shine; -His martial valour Flanders will confess, -And France regrets his managing the peace. -Faithful to England’s interest and her king; -The greatest reason of our murmuring. -Ten years in English service he appeared, -And gained his master’s and the world’s regard: -But ’tis not England’s custom to reward. -The wars are over, England needs him not; -Now he’s a Dutchman, and the Lord knows what. -Schomberg, the ablest soldier of his age, -With great Nassau did in our cause engage: -Both joined for England’s rescue and defence, -The greatest captain and the greatest prince. -With what applause, his stories did we tell! -Stories which Europe’s volumes largely swell. -We counted him an army in our aid: -Where he commanded, no man was afraid. -His actions with a constant conquest shine, -From Villa-Viciosa to the Rhine. -France, Flanders, Germany, his fame confess, -And all the world was fond of him, but us. -Our turn first served, we grudged him the command: -Witness the grateful temper of the land. -We blame the King that he relies too much -On strangers, Germans, Hugonots, and Dutch, -And seldom does his great affairs of state -To English counsellors communicate. -The fact might very well be answered thus: -He has so often been betrayed by us, -He must have been a madman to rely -On English Godolphin’s fidelity. -For, laying other arguments aside, -This thought might mortify our English pride, -That foreigners have faithfully obeyed him, -And none but Englishmen have e’er betrayed him. -They have our ships and merchants bought and sold, -And bartered English blood for foreign gold. -First to the French they sold our Turkey fleet, -And injured Talmarsh next at Camaret. -The King himself is sheltered from their snares, -Not by his merit, but the crown he wears. -Experience tells us ’tis the English way -Their benefactors always to betray. -And lest examples should be too remote, -A modern magistrate of famous note -Shall give you his own character by rote. -I’ll make it out, deny it he that can, -His worship is a true-born Englishman, -In all the latitude of that empty word, -By modern acceptations understood. -The parish books his great descent record; -And now he hopes ere long to be a lord. -And truly, as things go, it would be pity -But such as he should represent the City: -While robbery for burnt-offering he brings, -And gives to God what he has stole from kings: -Great monuments of charity he raises, -And good St. Magnus whistles out his praises. -To City gaols he grants a jubilee, -And hires huzzas from his own Mobilee.[21] -Lately he wore the golden chain and gown, -With which equipped, he thus harangued the town. - - - -His Fine Speech, Etc. - - -With clouted iron shoes and sheep-skin breeches, -More rags than manners, and more dirt than riches; -From driving cows and calves to Leyton Market, -While of my greatness there appeared no spark yet, -Behold I come, to let you see the pride -With which exalted beggars always ride. -Born to the needful labours of the plough, -The cart-whip graced me, as the chain does now. -Nature and Fate, in doubt what course to take, -Whether I should a lord or plough-boy make, -Kindly at last resolved they would promote me, -And first a knave, and then a knight, they vote me. -What Fate appointed, Nature did prepare, -And furnished me with an exceeding care, -To fit me for what they designed to have me; -And every gift, but honesty, they gave me. -And thus equipped, to this proud town I came, -In quest of bread, and not in quest of fame. -Blind to my future fate, a humble boy, -Free from the guilt and glory I enjoy, -The hopes which my ambition entertained -Were in the name of foot-boy all contained. -The greatest heights from small beginnings rise; -The gods were great on earth before they reached the skies. -B—— well, the generous temper of whose mind -Was ever to be bountiful inclined, -Whether by his ill-fate or fancy led, -First took me up, and furnished me with bread. -The little services he put me to -Seemed labours, rather than were truly so. -But always my advancement he designed, -For ’twas his very nature to be kind. -Large was his soul, his temper ever free; -The best of masters and of men to me. -And I, who was before decreed by Fate -To be made infamous as well as great, -With an obsequious diligence obeyed him, -Till trusted with his all, and then betrayed him. -All his past kindnesses I trampled on, -Ruined his fortunes to erect my own. -So vipers in the bosom bred, begin -To hiss at that hand first which took them in. -With eager treachery I his fall pursued, -And my first trophies were Ingratitude. -Ingratitude, the worst of human wit, -The basest action mankind can commit; -Which, like the sin against the Holy Ghost, -Has least of honour, and of guilt the most; -Distinguished from all other crimes by this, -That ’tis a crime which no man will confess. -That sin alone, which should not be forgiven -On earth, although perhaps it may in Heaven. -Thus my first benefactor I o’erthrew; -And how should I be to a second true? -The public trusts came next into my care, -And I to use them scurvily prepare. -My needy sovereign lord I played upon, -And lent him many a thousand of his own; -For which great interests I took care to charge, -And so my ill-got wealth became so large. -My predecessor, Judas, was a fool, -Fitter to have been whipped and sent to school -Than sell a Saviour. Had I been at hand, -His Master had not been so cheap trepanned; -I would have made the eager Jews have found, -For forty pieces, thirty thousand pound. -My cousin, Ziba, of immortal fame -(Ziba and I shall never want a name), -First-born of treason, nobly did advance -His master’s fall for his inheritance, -By whose keen arts old David first began -To break his sacred oath with Jonathan: -The good old king, ’tis thought, was very loth -To break his word, and therefore broke his oath. -Ziba’s a traitor of some quality, -Yet Ziba might have been informed by me: -Had I been there, he ne’er had been content -With half the estate, nor have the government. -In our late revolution ’twas thought strange -That I, of all mankind, should like the change; -But they who wondered at it never knew -That in it I did my old game pursue; -Nor had they heard of twenty thousand pound, -Which never yet was lost, nor ne’er was found. -Thus all things in their turn to sale I bring, -God and my master first, and then the King; -Till, by successful villanies made bold, -I thought to turn the nation into gold; -And so to forgery my hand I bent, -Not doubting I could gull the Government; -But there was ruffled by the Parliament. -And if I ’scaped the unhappy tree to climb, -’Twas want of law, and not for want of crime. -But my old friend,[22] who printed in my face -A needful competence of English brass, -Having more business yet for me to do, -And loth to lose his trusty servant so, -Managed the matter with such art and skill -As saved his hero and threw down the bill. -And now I’m graced with unexpected honours, -For which I’ll certainly abuse the donors. -Knighted, and made a tribune of the people, -Whose laws and properties I’m like to keep well; -The _custos rotulorum_ of the City, -And captain of the guards of their banditti. -Surrounded by my catchpoles, I declare -Against the needy debtor open war; -I hang poor thieves for stealing of your pelf, -And suffer none to rob you but myself. -The King commanded me to help reform ye, -And how I’ll do it, Miss shall inform ye. -I keep the best seraglio in the nation, -And hope in time to bring it into fashion. -For this my praise is sung by every bard, -For which Bridewell would be a just reward. -In print my panegyrics fill the streets, -And hired gaol-birds their huzzas repeat. -Some charities contrived to make a show, -Have taught the needy rabble to do so, -Whose empty noise is a mechanic fame, -Since for Sir Belzebub they’d do the same. - - - -The Conclusion - - -Then let us boast of ancestors no more, -Or deeds of heroes done in days of yore, -In latent records of the ages past, -Behind the rear of time, in long oblivion placed. -For if our virtues must in lines descend, -The merit with the families would end, -And intermixtures would most fatal grow; -For vice would be hereditary too; -The tainted blood would of necessity -Involuntary wickedness convey. -Vice, like ill-nature, for an age or two -May seem a generation to pursue; -But virtue seldom does regard the breed; -Fools do the wise, and wise men fools succeed. -What is’t to us what ancestors we had? -If good, what better? or what worse, if bad? -Examples are for imitation set, -Yet all men follow virtue with regret. -Could but our ancestors retrieve the fate, -And see their offspring thus degenerate; -How we contend for birth and names unknown, -And build on their past actions, not our own; -They’d cancel records, and their tombs deface, -And openly disown the vile degenerate race: -For fame of families is all a cheat, -’Tis personal virtue only makes us great. - - - -THE SHORTEST WAY WITH -THE DISSENTERS; -OR, -PROPOSALS FOR THE ESTABLISHMENT -OF -THE CHURCH - - - -THE SHORTEST WAY WITH -THE DISSENTERS - -Sir Roger L’Estrange tells us a story in his collection of fables, of -the cock and the horses. The cock was gotten to roost in the stable -among the horses, and there being no racks or other conveniences for -him, it seems he was forced to roost upon the ground. The horses -jostling about for room, and putting the cock in danger of his life, he -gives them this grave advice, “Pray, gentlefolks, let us stand still, -for fear we should tread upon one another.” - -There are some people in the world, who now they are unperched, and -reduced to an equality with other people, and under strong and very -just apprehensions of being further treated as they deserve, begin, -with Æsop’s cock, to preach up peace and union, and the Christian -duties of moderation, for getting that, when they had the power in -their hands, these graces were strangers in their gates. - -It is now near fourteen years[23] that the glory and peace of the -purest and most flourishing Church in the world has been eclipsed, -buffeted, and disturbed by a sort of men whom God in His providence has -suffered to insult over her and bring her down. These have been the -days of her humiliation and tribulation. She has borne with invincible -patience the reproach of the wicked, and God has at last heard her -prayers, and delivered her from the oppression of the stranger. - -And now they find their day is over, their power gone, and the throne -of this nation possessed by a royal, English, true, and ever-constant -member of, and friend to, the Church of England. Now they find that -they are in danger of the Church of England’s just resentments; now -they cry out peace, union, forbearance, and charity, as if the Church -had not too long harboured her enemies under her wing, and nourished -the viperous brood till they hiss and fly in the face of the mother -that cherished them. - -No, gentlemen, the time of mercy is past, your day of grace is over; -you should have practised peace, and moderation, and charity, if you -expected any yourselves. - -We have heard none of this lesson for fourteen years past. We have been -huffed and bullied with your Act of Toleration; you have told us that -you are the Church established by law, as well as others; have set up -your canting synagogues at our church doors, and the Church and members -have been loaded with reproaches, with oaths, associations, -abjurations, and what not. Where has been the mercy, the forbearance, -the charity, you have shown to tender consciences of the Church of -England, that could not take oaths as fast as you made them; that -having sworn allegiance to their lawful and rightful King, could not -dispense with that oath, their King being still alive, and swear to -your new hodge-podge of a Dutch Government? These have been turned out -of their livings, and they and their families left to starve; their -estates double taxed to carry on a war they had no hand in, and you got -nothing by. What account can you give of the multitudes you have forced -to comply, against their consciences, with your new sophistical -politics, who, like new converts in France, sin because they cannot -starve? And now the tables are turned upon you; you must not be -persecuted; it is not a Christian spirit. - -You have butchered one king, deposed another king, and made a mock king -of a third,[24] and yet you could have the face to expect to be -employed and trusted by the fourth. Anybody that did not know the -temper of your party would stand amazed at the impudence, as well as -folly, to think of it. - -Your management of your Dutch monarch, whom you reduced to a mere King -of Clouts, is enough to give any future princes such an idea of your -principles as to warn them sufficiently from coming into your clutches; -and God be thanked the Queen is out of your hands, knows you, and will -have a care of you. - -There is no doubt but the supreme authority of a nation has in itself a -power, and a right to that power, to execute the laws upon any part of -that nation it governs. The execution of the known laws of the land, -and that with a weak and gentle hand neither, was all this fanatical -party of this land have ever called persecution; this they have -magnified to a height, that the sufferings of the Huguenots in France -were not to be compared with. Now, to execute the known laws of a -nation upon those who transgress them, after voluntarily consenting to -the making those laws, can never be called persecution, but justice. -But justice is always violence to the party offending, for every man is -innocent in his own eyes. The first execution of the laws against -Dissenters in England was in the days of King James the First;[25] and -what did it amount to truly? The worst they suffered was at their own -request: to let them go to New England and erect a new colony, and give -them great privileges, grants, and suitable powers, keep them under -protection, and defend them against all invaders, and receive no taxes -or revenue from them. This was the cruelty of the Church of England. -Fatal leniency! It was the ruin of that excellent prince, King Charles -the First. Had King James sent all the Puritans in England away to the -West Indies, we had been a national, unmixed Church; the Church of -England had been kept undivided and entire. - -To requite the lenity of the father they take up arms against the son; -conquer, pursue, take, imprison, and at last put to death the anointed -of God, and destroy the very being and nature of government, setting up -a sordid impostor, who had neither title to govern nor understanding to -manage, but supplied that want with power, bloody and desperate -counsels, and craft without conscience. - -Had not King James the First withheld the full execution of the laws, -had he given them strict justice, he had cleared the nation of them, -and the consequences had been plain: his son had never been murdered by -them nor the monarchy overwhelmed. It was too much mercy shown them, -was the ruin of his posterity and the ruin of the nation’s peace. One -would think the Dissenters should not have the face to believe that we -are to be wheedled and canted into peace and toleration when they know -that they have once requited us with a civil war, and once with an -intolerable and unrighteous persecution for our former civility. - -Nay, to encourage us to be easy with them, it is apparent that they -never had the upper hand of the Church, but they treated her with all -the severity, with all the reproach and contempt that was possible. -What peace and what mercy did they show the loyal gentry of the Church -of England in the time of their triumphant Commonwealth? How did they -put all the gentry of England to ransom, whether they were actually in -arms for the King or not, making people compound for their estates and -starve their families? How did they treat the clergy of the Church of -England, sequestered the ministers, devoured the patrimony of the -Church, and divided the spoil by sharing the Church lands among their -soldiers, and turning her clergy out to starve? Just such measure as -they have meted should be measured them again. - -Charity and love is the known doctrine of the Church of England, and it -is plain she has put it in practice towards the Dissenters, even beyond -what they ought, till she has been wanting to herself, and in effect -unkind to her sons, particularly in the too much lenity of King James -the First, mentioned before. Had he so rooted the Puritans from the -face of the land, which he had an opportunity early to have done, they -had not had the power to vex the Church as since they have done. - -In the days of King Charles the Second, how did the Church reward their -bloody doings with lenity and mercy, except the barbarous regicides of -the pretended court of justice? Not a soul suffered for all the blood -in an unnatural war. King Charles came in all mercy and love, cherished -them, preferred them, employed them, withheld the rigour of the law, -and oftentimes, even against the advice of his Parliament, gave them -liberty of conscience;[26] and how did they requite him with the -villainous contrivance to depose and murder him and his successor at -the Rye Plot?[27] - -King James, as if mercy was the inherent quality of the family, began -his reign with unusual favour to them. Nor could their joining with the -Duke of Monmouth against him move him to do himself justice upon them; -but that mistaken prince thought to win them by gentleness and love, -proclaimed an universal liberty to them, and rather discountenanced the -Church of England than them.[28] How they requited him all the world -knows. - -The late reign is too fresh in the memory of all the world to need a -comment; how, under pretence of joining with the Church in redressing -some grievances, they pushed things to that extremity, in conjunction -with some mistaken gentlemen, as to depose the late King, as if the -grievance of the nation could not have been redressed but by the -absolute ruin of the prince. Here is an instance of their temper, their -peace, and charity. To what height they carried themselves during the -reign of a king of their own; how they crept into all places of trust -and profit; how they insinuated into the favour of the King, and were -at first preferred to the highest places in the nation; how they -engrossed the ministry, and above all, how pitifully they managed, is -too plain to need any remarks. - -But particularly their mercy and charity, the spirit of union, they -tell us so much of, has been remarkable in Scotland. If any man would -see the spirit of a Dissenter, let him look into Scotland. There they -made entire conquest of the Church, trampled down the sacred orders, -and suppressed the Episcopal government with an absolute, and, as they -suppose, irretrievable victory, though it is possible they may find -themselves mistaken. Now it would be a very proper question to ask -their impudent advocate, the Observator, pray how much mercy and favour -did the members of the Episcopal Church find in Scotland from the -Scotch Presbyterian Government? and I shall undertake for the Church of -England that the Dissenters shall still receive as much here, though -they deserve but little. - -In a small treatise of the sufferings of the Episcopal clergy in -Scotland, it will appear what usage they met with; how they not only -lost their livings, but in several places were plundered and abused in -their persons; the ministers that could not conform turned out with -numerous families and no maintenance, and hardly charity enough left to -relieve them with a bit of bread. And the cruelties of the parties are -innumerable, and not to be attempted in this short piece. - -And now to prevent the distant cloud which they perceived to hang over -their heads from England. With a true Presbyterian policy, they put in -for a union of nations, that England might unite their Church with the -Kirk of Scotland, and their Presbyterian members sit in our House of -Commons, and their Assembly of Scotch canting long-cloaks in our -Convocation. What might have been if our fanatic Whiggish statesmen -continued, God only knows; but we hope we are out of fear of that now. - -It is alleged by some of the faction—and they began to bully us with -it—that if we won’t unite with them, they will not settle the crown -with us again, but when Her Majesty dies, will choose a king for -themselves. - -If they won’t, we must make them, and it is not the first time we have -let them know that we are able. The crowns of these kingdoms have not -so far disowned the right of succession, but they may retrieve it -again; and if Scotland thinks to come off from a successive to an -elective state of government, England has not promised not to assist -the right heir and put them into possession without any regard to their -ridiculous settlements.[29] - -These are the gentlemen, these their ways of treating the Church, both -at home and abroad. Now let us examine the reasons they pretend to give -why we should be favourable to them, why we should continue and -tolerate them among us. - -First, they are very numerous, they say; they are a great part of the -nation, and we cannot suppress them. - -To this may be answered:— 1. They are not so numerous as the -Protestants in France, and yet the French King effectually cleared the -nation of them at once, and we don’t find he misses them at home.[30] -But I am not of the opinion they are so numerous as is pretended; their -party is more numerous than their persons, and those mistaken people of -the Church who are misled and deluded by their wheedling artifices to -join with them, make their party the greater; but these will open their -eyes when the Government shall set heartily about the work, and come -off from them, as some animals which they say always desert a house -when it is likely to fall. - -2. The more numerous the more dangerous, and therefore the more need to -suppress them; and God has suffered us to bear them as goads in our -sides for not utterly extinguishing them long ago. - -3. If we are to allow them only because we cannot suppress them, then -it ought to be tried whether we can or not; and I am of opinion it is -easy to be done, and could prescribe ways and means, if it were proper; -but I doubt not the Government will find effectual methods for the -rooting the contagion from the face of this land. - -Another argument they use, which is this, that it is a time of war, and -we have need to unite against the common enemy. - -We answer, this common enemy had been no enemy if they had not made him -so. He was quiet in peace, and no way disturbed or encroached upon us, -and we know no reason we had to quarrel with him. - -But further, we make no question but we are able to deal with this -common enemy without their help; but why must we unite with them -because of the enemy? Will they go over to the enemy if we do not -prevent it by a union with them? We are very well contented they -should, and make no question we shall be ready to deal with them and -the common enemy too, and better without them than with them. - -Besides, if we have a common enemy, there is the more need to be secure -against our private enemies. If there is one common enemy, we have the -less need to have an enemy in our bowels. - -It was a great argument some people used against suppressing the old -money, that it was a time of war, and it was too great a risk for the -nation to run; if we should not master it, we should be undone. And yet -the sequel proved the hazard was not so great but it might be mastered, -and the success was answerable. The suppressing the Dissenters is not a -harder work nor a work of less necessity to the public. We can never -enjoy a settled, uninterrupted union and tranquillity in this nation -till the spirit of Whiggism, faction, and schism is melted down like -the old money. - -To talk of the difficulty is to frighten ourselves with chimeras and -notions of a powerful party, which are indeed a party without power. -Difficulties often appear greater at a distance than when they are -searched into with judgment and distinguished from the vapours and -shadows that attend them. - -We are not to be frightened with it; this age is wiser than that by all -our own experience and theirs too. King Charles the First had early -suppressed this party if he had taken more deliberate measures. In -short, it is not worth arguing to talk of their arms. Their Monmouths, -and Shaftesburys, and Argyles are gone; their Dutch sanctuary is at an -end; Heaven has made way for their destruction, and if we do not close -with the Divine occasion, we are to blame ourselves, and may remember -that we had once an opportunity to serve the Church of England by -extirpating her implacable enemies, and having let slip the minute that -Heaven presented, may experimentally complain, _Post est occasio -calva_. - -Here are some popular objections in the way:— - -As first, the Queen has promised them to continue them in their -tolerated liberty, and has told us she will be a religious observer of -her word. - -What Her Majesty will do we cannot help; but what, as head of the -Church, she ought to do, is another case. Her Majesty has promised to -protect and defend the Church of England, and if she cannot effectually -do that without the destruction of the Dissenters, she must of course -dispense with one promise to comply with another. But to answer this -cavil more effectually: Her Majesty did never promise to maintain the -toleration to the destruction of the Church; but it is upon supposition -that it may be compatible with the well-being and safety of the Church, -which she had declared she would take especial care of. Now if these -two interests clash, it is plain Her Majesty’s intentions are to -uphold, protect, defend, and establish the Church, and this we conceive -is impossible. - -Perhaps it may be said that the Church is in no immediate danger from -the Dissenters, and therefore it is time enough. But this is a weak -answer. - -For first, if a danger be real, the distance of it is no argument -against, but rather a spur to quicken us to prevention, lest it be too -late hereafter. - -And secondly, here is the opportunity, and the only one perhaps that -ever the Church had, to secure herself and destroy her enemies. - -The representatives of the nation have now an opportunity; the time is -come which all good men have wished for, that the gentlemen of England -may serve the Church of England. Now they are protected and encouraged -by a Church of England Queen. - -What will you do for your sister in the day that she shall be spoken -for? - -If ever you will establish the best Christian Church in the world; if -ever you will suppress the spirit of enthusiasm; if ever you will free -the nation from the viperous brood that have so long sucked the blood -of their mother; if ever you will leave your posterity free from -faction and rebellion, this is the time. This is the time to pull up -this heretical weed of sedition that has so long disturbed the peace of -our Church and poisoned the good corn. - -But, says another hot and cold objector, this is renewing fire and -faggot, reviving the act _De Heretico Comburendo_; this will be cruelty -in its nature, and barbarous to all the world. - -I answer, it is cruelty to kill a snake or a toad in cold blood, but -the poison of their nature makes it a charity to our neighbours to -destroy those creatures, not for any personal injury received, but for -prevention; not for the evil they have done, but the evil they may do. - -Serpents, toads, vipers, &c., are noxious to the body, and poison the -sensitive life; these poison the soul, corrupt our posterity, ensnare -our children, destroy the vitals of our happiness, our future felicity, -and contaminate the whole mass. - -Shall any law be given to such wild creatures? Some beasts are for -sport, and the huntsmen give them advantages of ground; but some are -knocked on the head by all possible ways of violence and surprise. - -I do not prescribe fire and faggot, but, as Scipio said of Carthage, -_Delenda est Carthago_. They are to be rooted out of this nation, if -ever we will live in peace, serve God, or enjoy our own. As for the -manner, I leave it to those hands who have a right to execute God’s -justice on the nation’s and the Church’s enemies. - -But if we must be frighted from this justice under the specious -pretences and odious sense of cruelty, nothing will be effected: it -will be more barbarous to our own children and dear posterity when they -shall reproach their fathers, as we do ours, and tell us, “You had an -opportunity to root out this cursed race from the world under the -favour and protection of a true English queen; and out of your foolish -pity you spared them, because, forsooth, you would not be cruel; and -now our Church is suppressed and persecuted, our religion trampled -under foot, our estates plundered, our persons imprisoned and dragged -to jails, gibbets, and scaffolds: your sparing this Amalekite race is -our destruction, your mercy to them proves cruelty to your poor -posterity.” - -How just will such reflections be when our posterity shall fall under -the merciless clutches of this uncharitable generation, when our Church -shall be swallowed up in schism, faction, enthusiasm, and confusion; -when our Government shall be devolved upon foreigners, and our monarchy -dwindled into a republic. - -It would be more rational for us, if we must spare this generation, to -summon our own to a general massacre, and as we have brought them into -the world free, send them out so, and not betray them to destruction by -our supine negligence, and then cry, “It is mercy.” - -Moses was a merciful, meek man, and yet with what fury did he run -through the camp, and cut the throats of three-and-thirty thousand of -his dear Israelites that were fallen into idolatry. What was the -reason? It was mercy to the rest to make these examples, to prevent the -destruction of the whole army. - -How many millions of future souls we save from infection and delusion -if the present race of poisoned spirits were purged from the face of -the land! - -It is vain to trifle in this matter, the light, foolish handling of -them by mulcts, fines, &c.,—it is their glory and their advantage. If -the gallows instead of the Counter, and the galleys instead of the -fines, were the reward of going to a conventicle, to preach or hear, -there would not be so many sufferers. The spirit of martyrdom is over; -they that will go to church to be chosen sheriffs and mayors would go -to forty churches rather than be hanged. - -If one severe law were made and punctually executed, that whoever was -found at a conventicle should be banished the nation and the preacher -be hanged, we should soon see an end of the tale. They would all come -to church, and one age would make us all one again. - -To talk of five shillings a month for not coming to the sacrament, and -one shilling per week for not coming to church, this is such a way of -converting people as never was known; this is selling them a liberty to -transgress for so much money. If it be not a crime, why don’t we give -them full license? And if it be, no price ought to compound for the -committing it, for that is selling a liberty to people to sin against -God and the Government. - -If it be a crime of the highest consequence both against the peace and -welfare of the nation, the glory of God, the good of the Church, and -the happiness of the soul, let us rank it among capital offences, and -let it receive a punishment in proportion to it. - -We hang men for trifles, and banish them for things not worth naming; -but an offence against God and the Church, against the welfare of the -world and the dignity of religion, shall be bought off for five -shillings! This is such a shame to a Christian Government that it is -with regret I transmit it to posterity. - -If men sin against God, affront His ordinances, rebel against His -Church, and disobey the precepts of their superiors, let them suffer as -such capital crimes deserve. So will religion flourish, and this -divided nation be once again united. - -And yet the title of barbarous and cruel will soon be taken off from -this law too. I am not supposing that all the Dissenters in England -should be hanged or banished, but, as in cases of rebellions and -insurrections, if a few of the ringleaders suffer, the multitude are -dismissed; so, a few obstinate people being made examples, there is no -doubt but the severity of the law would find a stop in the compliance -of the multitude. - -To make the reasonableness of this matter out of question, and more -unanswerably plain, let us examine for what it is that this nation is -divided into parties and factions, and let us see how they can justify -a separation, or we of the Church of England can justify our bearing -the insults and inconveniences of the party. - -One of their leading pastors,[31] and a man of as much learning as most -among them, in his answer to a pamphlet, entitled “An Inquiry into the -Occasional Conformity,” has these words, p. 27, “Do the religion of the -Church and the meeting-houses make two religions? Wherein do they -differ? The substance of the same religion is common to them both; and -the modes and accidents are the things in which only they differ.” P. -28: “Thirty-nine articles are given us for the summary of our religion; -thirty-six contain the substance of it, wherein we agree; three, the -additional appendices, about which we have some differences.” - -Now, if as by their own acknowledgment the Church of England is a true -Church, and the difference between them is only in a few modes and -accidents, why should we expect that they will suffer galleys, -corporeal punishment, and banishment for these trifles? There is no -question but they will be wiser; even their own principles will not -bear them out in it; they will certainly comply with the laws and with -reason; and though at the first severity they may seem hard, the next -age will feel nothing of it; the contagion will be rooted out; the -disease being cured, there will be no need of the operation; but if -they should venture to transgress and fall into the pit, all the world -must condemn their obstinacy, as being without ground from their own -principles. - -Thus the pretence of cruelty will be taken off, and the party actually -suppressed, and the disquiets they have so often brought upon the -nation prevented. - -Their numbers and their wealth make them haughty, and that is so far -from being an argument to persuade us to forbear them, that it is a -warning to us, without any delay, to reconcile them to the unity of the -Church or remove them from us. - -At present, Heaven be praised, they are not so formidable as they have -been, and it is our own fault if ever we suffer them to be so. -Providence and the Church of England seem to join in this particular, -that now the destroyers of the nation’s peace may be overturned, and to -this end the present opportunity seems to be put into our hands. - -To this end her present Majesty seems reserved to enjoy the crown, that -the ecclesiastic as well as civil rights of the nation may be restored -by her hand. To this end the face of affairs have received such a turn -in the process of a few months as never has been before; the leading -men of the nation, the universal cry of the people, the unanimous -request of the clergy, agree in this, that the deliverance of our -Church is at hand. For this end has Providence given us such a -Parliament, such a Convocation, such a gentry, and such a Queen as we -never had before. And what may be the consequences of a neglect of such -opportunities? The succession of the crown has but a dark prospect; -another Dutch turn may make the hopes of it ridiculous and the practice -impossible. Be the house of our future princes never so well inclined, -they will be foreigners, and many years will be spent in suiting the -genius of strangers to this crown and the interests of the nation; and -how many ages it may be before the English throne be filled with so -much zeal and can dour, so much tenderness and hearty affection to the -Church as we see it now covered with, who can imagine? - -It is high time, then, for the friends of the Church of England to -think of building up and establishing her in such a manner that she may -be no more invaded by foreigners nor divided by factions, schisms, and -error. - -If this could be done by gentle and easy methods, I should be glad; but -the wound is corroded, the vitals begin to mortify, and nothing but -amputation of members can complete the cure; all the ways of tenderness -and compassion, all persuasive arguments, have been made use of in -vain. - -The humour of the Dissenters has so increased among the people, that -they hold the Church in defiance, and the house of God is an -abomination among them; nay, they have brought up their posterity in -such prepossessed aversions to our holy religion, that the ignorant mob -think we are all idolaters and worshippers of Baal, and account it a -sin to come within the walls of our churches. - -The primitive Christians were not more shy of a heathen temple or of -meat offered to idols, nor the Jews of swine’s flesh, than some of our -Dissenters are of the Church, and the divine service solemnised -therein. - -This obstinacy must be rooted out with the profession of it; while the -generation are less at liberty daily to affront God Almighty and -dishonour His holy worship, we are wanting in our duty to God and our -mother, the Church of England. - -How can we answer it to God, to the Church, and to our posterity to -leave them entangled with fanaticism, error, and obstinacy in the -bowels of the nation; to leave them an enemy in their streets, that in -time may involve them in the same crimes, and endanger the utter -extirpation of religion in the nation? - -What is the difference betwixt this and being subjected to the power of -the Church of Rome, from whence we have reformed? If one be an extreme -on one hand, and one on another, it is equally destructive to the truth -to have errors settled among us, let them be of what nature they will. - -Both are enemies of our Church and of our peace; and why should it not -be as criminal to admit an enthusiast as a Jesuit? Why should the -Papist with his seven sacraments be worse than the Quaker with no -sacraments at all? Why should religious houses be more intolerable than -meeting-houses? Alas, the Church of England! What with Popery on one -hand, and schismatics on the other, how has she been crucified between -two thieves! - -Now let us crucify the thieves. Let her foundations be established upon -the destruction of her enemies. The doors of mercy being always open to -the returning part of the deluded people, let the obstinate be ruled -with the rod of iron. - -Let all true sons of so holy and oppressed a mother, exasperated by her -afflictions, harden their hearts against those who have oppressed her. - -And may God Almighty put it into the hearts of all the friends of truth -to lift up a standard against pride and Antichrist, that the posterity -of the sons of error may be rooted out from the face of this land for -ever. - -FOOTNOTES - -Footnote 1: _Hours in a Library_. - -Footnote 2: Wilson’s _ Memoirs of Defoe_, London, 1830, III., p. 429. - -Footnote 3: Defoe mentions the letter in his _Review_ for August 11th, -1705. - -Footnote 4: I was not called Colonel Jacque as at London, but Colonel, -and they did not know me by any other name. - -Footnote 5: He did not now talk quite so blindly and childishly as when -he was a boy, and when the custom-house gentleman talked to him about -his names. - -Footnote 6: Here he showed him the horsewhip that was given him with -his new office. - -Footnote 7: So the negroes call the owner of the plantation, or at -least so they called him, because he was a great man in the country, -having three or four large plantations. - -Footnote 8: To be drunk in a negro is to be mad; for when they get rum -they are worse than raving, and fit to do any manner of mischief. - -Footnote 9: He understood the plot, and took the opportunity to tell -him that, to see what he would say. - -Footnote 10: He understood him; he meant he would beg your honour for -me, that I might not be hanged for offending you. - -Footnote 11: This old proverb was quoted by Robert Burton in his -“Anatomy of Melancholy” (1621), “Where God hath a temple the Devil hath -a chapel” (Part III. sc. iv. subs. 1). It was also No. 670 in George -Herbert’s “Jacula Prudentium,” first published in 1640, where it ran, -“No sooner is a temple built to God but the Devil builds a chapel hard -by.” Defoe was the first rhymer of the proverb, and the rider to it is -his own. - -Footnote 12: William the Conqueror. [D.F.] - -Footnote 13: Or archer. [D.F.] - -Footnote 14: Dr. Sherlock, _de facto_. [D.F.] - -Footnote 15: K. J. I. [D.F.] - -Footnote 16: K. C. II. [D.F.] - -Footnote 17: Lady Castlemaine, of the Italian-French family of Villars, -was first known to Charles II. as Mrs. Palmer. Afterwards her husband -was made Earl of Castlemaine, and in 1668 she was made Duchess of -Cleveland. Of the cost of this woman Andrew Marvell wrote:—“They have -signed and sealed ten thousand pounds a year more to the Duchess of -Cleveland; who has likewise near ten thousand pounds a year out of the -new farm of the country excise of beer and ale; five thousand pounds a -year out of the Post Office; and, they say, the reversion of all the -King’s leases, the reversion of all places in the Custom House, the -green-wax, and, indeed, what not? All promotions, spiritual and -temporal, pass under her cognisance,” &c. Charles II. had by her five -children. - -Footnote 18: Louise Renée de Puencovet de Queroualle came over to Dover -as a maid of honour, and was created Duchess of Portsmouth in August -1673. She cost as much as Lady Castlemaine. Her son, Charles Lennox, -was made Duke of Richmond. The Duchess of Portsmouth was living when -this satire appeared. She died in 1734. - -Footnote 19: Frederick de Schomberg, an old favourite of King -William’s, was made Duke of Schomberg on the 10th of April 1689. -Another friend of the King’s, William Bentinck, was created Earl of -Portland on the 9th of April 1689. His son and heir was raised to a -dukedom in 1716. - -Footnote 20: The drunkard’s name for Canary. [D.F.] - -Footnote 21: “Mobile,” applied to the movable, unstable populace, was -first abridged to “mob” in Charles the Second’s time. - -Footnote 22: The Devil.—[D.F.] - -Footnote 23: Dating from 1688-89, the Revolution and accession of King -William III. - -Footnote 24: Charles I., James II., William III. - -Footnote 25: On the 16th of July, 1604, the Puritan clergy within the -Church were required to conform on or before the 30th of November on -pain of expulsion. On the 4th of December Whitgift’s successor, Richard -Bancroft, was consecrated Archbishop of Canterbury. He strictly carried -out this order, and declared every man, cleric or lay, to be -excommunicated who questioned the complete accordance of the Prayer -Book with the Word of God. On the 6th of September, 1620, the -_Mayflower_ left England with the first freight of English families -that sought freedom of worship where they came to be the founders of a -New England across the sea. - -Footnote 26: Charles II. unconstitutionally suspended the penal laws -against nonconformists and recusants in 1679. - -Footnote 27: The story of the Rye House Plot was used for bringing -Algernon Sidney and Lord William Russell to the scaffold. - -Footnote 28: James II. unconstitutionally suspended the penal laws -against nonconformists and recusants by Declarations of Indulgence in -1686 and 1688. - -Footnote 29: The oath taken by Tories against the legal right of the -Pretender to the crown was said to reserve the question of his divine -right of succession. Divine right was unchangeable, but laws were -liable to change—and so far as they go, what to-day is treason may be -loyalty to-morrow. - -Footnote 30: The Revocation of the Edict of Nantes was signed on the -17th of October 1685. All Protestant churches were to be demolished, -and their ministers who would not be converted were to leave France -within a fortnight. Fugitive reformers who did not return within four -months would have their property confiscated. Lay Reformers were -forbidden to leave France, on pain of the galleys for men and -confiscation of body and goods for women. Those who remained were -exposed to cruelties of the soldiery. The King thought that his way of -conversion by dragoons had reduced a million and a half of French -heretics to twelve or fifteen thousand; but between the Revocation and -the time when Defoe wrote this pamphlet, it has been estimated that -250,000 French Protestants left France to establish homes in England -and elsewhere. - -Footnote 31: John Howe, in his answer to Defoe’s request for a -statement of opinion from him on Occasional Conformity. - - - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The History and Remarkable Life of the -Truly Honourable Colonel Jacque, Commonly called Colonel Jack, by Daniel Defoe - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK COLONEL JACK *** - -***** This file should be named 52603-0.txt or 52603-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/2/6/0/52603/ - -Produced by Charles Bowen from page scans provided by -Google Books (Robarts - University of Toronto) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - - - - - - diff --git a/old/52603-0.zip b/old/52603-0.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 7042883..0000000 --- a/old/52603-0.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/52603-8.txt b/old/52603-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 41f843a..0000000 --- a/old/52603-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,14404 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The History and Remarkable Life of the -Truly Honourable Colonel Jacque, Commonly called Colonel Jack, by Daniel Defoe - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The History and Remarkable Life of the Truly Honourable Colonel Jacque, Commonly called Colonel Jack - -Author: Daniel Defoe - -Release Date: July 18, 2016 [EBook #52603] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK COLONEL JACK *** - - - - -Produced by Charles Bowen from page scans provided by -Google Books (Robarts - University of Toronto) - - - - - - - - - - - -Transcriber's Notes: - 1. Page scan source: The Web Archive - https://archive.org/details/historyandremark00defouoft - (Robarts - University of Toronto) - - - - - - -Edition De Luxe - - -The History and Remarkable Life of -the truly honourable - -Colonel Jacque - -Commonly called Colonel Jack - - -Volume N1 - - -By -DANIEL DEFOE - -With the author's preface, and an introduction by -G. H. MAYNADIER, Ph. D. - -DEPARTMENT OF ENGLISH, HARVARD UNIVERSITY - - -National Library Company -New York - - - - - - -Edition De Luxe -LIMITED TO ONE THOUSAND SETS - - - - -COPYRIGHT, 1904, BY -THE UNIVERSITY PRESS - - - - - - -ILLUSTRATIONS - - -COLONEL JACQUE - -PART I - -Jacque is summoned before his master. _Frontispiece_ - -Escaping with the purloined horse. - - -PART II - -Colonel Jacque and the lady - -Colonel Jacque's arrival is announced - - - - - -INTRODUCTION - -Smollett bears witness to the popularity of Defoe's _Colonel Jacque_. -In the sixty-second chapter of _Roderick Random_, the hero of that -novel is profoundly impressed by the genius of the disappointed poet, -Melopoyn, the story of whose tragedy is Smollett's acrimonious version -of the fate of his own first literary effort, _The Regicide_. Melopoyn -tells Random that while waiting in vain for his tragedy to be -produced, he wrote some pastorals which were rejected by one -bookseller after another. A first said merely that the pastorals would -not serve; a second advised Melopoyn to offer in their place something -"satirical or luscious;" and a third asked if he "had got never a -piece of secret history, thrown into a series of letters, or a volume -of adventures, such as those of Robinson Crusoe and Colonel Jack, or a -collection of conundrums, wherewith to entertain the plantations?" -Smollett probably wrote this passage some time in the year 1747, for -_Roderick Random_ was published in January, 1748. It was twenty-four -years earlier--December twentieth, 1722--that _Colonel Jacque_ had -been published, or, to give it the name set forth by its flaunting -title-page:--_The History and Remarkable Life of the truly Honourable -Colonel Jacque, vulgarly called Col. Jack, who was born a Gentleman; -put 'Prentice to a Pickpocket; was six and twenty years a Thief, and -then kidnapped to Virginia; came back a Merchant; was five times -married to four Whores; went into the Wars, behaved bravely, got -Preferment, was made Colonel of a Regiment; came over, and fled with -the Chevalier, is still abroad Completing a Life of Wonders, and -resolves to die a General_. Surely a book for servants, readers of our -time will be apt to think on looking at this title-page; and yet -_Colonel Jacque_ is found to-day in many a gentleman's library. This -is no reason, though, why it should still retain considerable -popularity in Smollett's day. In less time after their appearance, -some books which live forever in literature have been forgotten by the -great mass of readers. What was it now that kept _Colonel Jacque_ -popular a quarter of a century after its publication? - -It can hardly be the story which maintained its popularity, for the -inorganic tale is of the simplest kind. Jacque, like Captain -Singleton, and Moll Flanders in her childhood, had almost no knowledge -of his parents. He was brought up by a woman who was well paid for -taking the child off his parents' hands--a woman who, though seemingly -an abandoned character, nevertheless showed the boy kindness. When he -was about ten, she died. Then followed the chequered career sketched -in the title given above. Jacque, trained by a comrade as a -pickpocket, became in time a thief on a larger scale, but not a thief -quite destitute of good feeling. After he had robbed a poor woman of -Kentish Town of 22_s_. 6_d_., his conscience was never easy till he -paid her back the money, a year later; and through all his criminal -life, he remembered that his foster-mother had told him he came of -gentle blood, and accordingly should remember always to be a -gentleman. The hope of being a gentleman was before him, even when he -was kidnapped to Virginia and sold into bondage. There he became such -a favourite of his master that in time he was able to set up as a -planter on his own account. From Virginia he returned to England, and -thence, after the unhappy matrimonial ventures mentioned in the title, -he went back to Virginia, where at last he married the wife whom he -had previously divorced. - -Nor could the character of the hero have had much to do in keeping -_Colonel Jacque_ popular. In spite of his matrimonial achievements, in -spite of the affection which he rouses in his American employer and -his slaves both, Colonel Jacque is with out any attraction which a -reader can perceive to-day. Like most of Defoe's characters, he is -without fine feeling; he is always looking out for the main chance. -His chief interest is commerce; he is a typical "Anglo-Saxon" trader. -There are thousands and thousands of such clever, prosy, cold-blooded -business-men in the United States to-day, and in the British colonies, -and in the United Kingdom. Though Defoe's biographers are divided as -to whether or not he shared their mercantile cleverness, there is no -doubt that Defoe was heartily in sympathy with such men; and his -interest in recounting Colonel Jacque's commercial ventures shows him -to have been what I have already called him--the Yankee trader of the -Queen Anne writers. - -It was the story of Colonel Jacque's successful trading, no doubt, -which had a large part in sustaining the popularity of his _History_. -But even more important in this respect, was that which we have seen -to be the vital force in all Defoe's fiction--circumstantial -vividness. This is less striking in the later pages than in the -earlier. The vividness ceases to a large extent after Jacque goes to -America, for Defoe did not know America so well as he knew his -England. Yet even when the scene shifts to the further side of the -ocean, Defoe makes no blunders; nothing impossible occurs; his -geography is correct. In _Colonel Jacque_, perhaps more than anywhere -else, we see that interest of Defoe's in distant British possessions -which made him, as I have said, one of the "imperialists" of his time. -Even so, what vividness there is in the American scenes is too largely -commercial. Not many people, other than small traders or would-be -traders, could ever have read with interest such a paragraph as the -following:-- - -"With the sloop I sent letters to my wife and to my chief manager with -orders to load her back, as I there directed, viz., that she should -have two hundred barrels of flour, fifty barrels of pease; and, to -answer my other views, I ordered a hundred bales to be made up of all -sorts of European goods, such as not my own warehouses only would -supply, but such as they could be supplied with in other warehouses -where I knew they had credit for anything." - -Very different are the earlier pages which deal with Jacque's -adventures as a poor criminal boy in England. Here Defoe was on ground -that he knew thoroughly. Sir Leslie Stephen[1] has observed that Defoe -passed beyond the bounds of probability when he made his hero, an -almost elderly man writing his memoirs in Mexico, remember the details -of his boyish thieving with marvellous exactness. Barring this -improbability--one by the way which you are not aware of while you -read the scenes in question, for you do not know how long a time will -elapse before the hero begins to record his experiences--the -verisimilitude of the first part of _Colonel Jacque_ could not be -surpassed. Moreover, in picturing the life of the poor, neglected boy, -Defoe is unusually sympathetic. And so in the early pages of _Colonel -Jacque_, more than anywhere else, is found the power of the story, the -secret of its popularity when Smollett was writing _Roderick Random_, -and the secret of its appeal to readers to-day. Lamb was hardly -overstating the case when he declared, "The beginning of 'Colonel -Jack' is the most affecting, natural picture of a young thief that was -ever drawn."[2] - -At the end of the second volume of _Colonel Jacque_ will be found two -of Defoe's earlier political satires:--_The True-Born Englishman_ and -_The Shortest Way with the Dissenters_. The former, the most -celebrated piece of verse which Defoe wrote, was published in January, -1701. The circumstances which led to its publication are set forth by -the author himself in his autobiographical sketch of 1715, _An Appeal -to Honour and Justice_. - -On the first of August, 1700, according to his statement, there -appeared "a vile abhorred pamphlet, in very ill verse, written by one -Mr. Tutchin, and called _The Foreigners_; in which the author . . . -fell personally upon the King himself, and then upon the Dutch Nation. -And after having reproached his Majesty with crimes that his worst -enemy could not think of without horror, he sums up all in the odious -name of _Foreigner_. This filled me with a kind of rage against the -book, and gave birth to a trifle which I never could hope should have -met with so general an acceptance as it did; I mean _The True-Born -Englishman_." - -The reason for Tutchin's pamphlet was that William III., never loved -by the English, became less and less popular after the death of Queen -Mary. A Dutchman, he was supposed to have the interests of Holland -more at heart than those of England. This supposition was strengthened -by the fact that he took no Englishmen into his confidence as he did -his old and trusted Dutch friends. These, naturally, shared his -unpopularity, especially the Duke of Schomberg and the King's -favourite minister, William Bentinck, created Earl of Portland, both -of whom are mentioned by Defoe in his _True-Born Englishman_. - -Defoe, in this reply to Tutchin's pamphlet, sought to prove that the -king and his foreign friends had as good right to the esteem of the -English as any patriots in the history of the country. In the first -part of the "poem," as Defoe called his satire, he showed that -William, with his Dutch blood, was as much entitled to the name of -Englishman as any of his subjects, who came of mixed British, Pictish, -Roman, Saxon, Danish, and Norman blood. In short, Defoe made the -English out a hybrid race, and with excellent good sense showed that -their national vigour was due largely to their being so. Much of what -he said might well be said to-day of the people of the United States, -as for instance, the following from Defoe's explanatory preface:-- - -"The multitudes of foreign nations who have taken sanctuary here, have -been the greatest additions to the wealth and strength of the nation; -the essential whereof is the number of its inhabitants. Nor would this -nation ever have arrived to the degree of wealth and glory it now -boasts of, if the addition of foreign nations . . . had not been -helpful to it. This is so plain, that he who is ignorant of it is too -dull to be talked with." - -The other side to Defoe's picture (and there was another side then as -now) is shown in verses which, with a few changes, would likewise be -applicable to the United States to-day. Defoe is trying to prove that -even with lapse of years the English race remains hybrid. - - - "And lest by length of time it be pretended - The climate may this modern breed have mended, - Wise Providence, to keep us where we are, - Mixes us daily with exceeding care. - We have been Europe's sink, the jakes where she - Voids all her offal outcast progeny. - From our fifth Henry's time, the strolling bands - Of banish'd fugitives from neighb'ring lands - Have here a certain sanctuary found: - Th' eternal refuge of the vagabond, - Where, in but half a common age of time, - Borr'wing new blood and manners from the clime, - Proudly they learn all mankind to contemn, - And all their race are true-born Englishmen." - - - -In the second part of the satire, Defoe tries to describe the nature -of the English, their pride, and their ingratitude to their -benefactors. Among the stanzas in which he hits off the faults of his -countrymen, the following, more true than grammatical, is among the -most forcible:-- - - - "Surly to strangers, froward to their friend; - Submit to love with a reluctant mind; - Resolved to be ungrateful and unkind. - If by necessity reduced to ask, - The giver has the difficultest task; - For what's bestow'd they awkwardly receive, - And always take less freely than they give. - The obligation is their highest grief; - And never love, where they accept relief. - So sullen in their sorrows, that 'tis known, - They'll rather die than their afflictions own: - And if relieved, it is too often true, - That they'll abuse their benefactors too; - For in distress their haughty stomach's such, - They hate to see themselves obliged too much, - Seldom contented, often in the wrong; - Hard to be pleased at all, and never long." - - -Defoe's satire was a success. Written, as it is, in rough verse, at -times little better than doggerel, it is yet always vigorous and -interesting. To-day, after a lapse of two hundred years, no verse from -Defoe's pen is so readable. That it was effective in accomplishing the -purpose for which it was composed, is proved by the fact that the -people, taking the satire good-naturedly, experienced a revulsion of -feeling towards the king and his Dutch friends. It was natural that -the piece should bring Defoe the increased regard of the king, whose -favour he had already to some extent enjoyed. "This poem was the -occasion of my being known to His Majesty," Defoe wrote in his _Appeal -to Honour and Justice_; and "I was afterwards received by him." - -Concluding the second volume of _Colonel Jacque_ will be found the -ironical _Shortest Way with the Dissenters_, which placed Defoe in the -pillory and in prison. It was written in 1702, the first year of -Anne's reign, when the strong Tory influence in the government seemed -likely to bring back the persecution of Nonconformists which had -ceased in the time of William. From the early summer, when Dr. -Sacheverell preached at Oxford a most inflammatory sermon against the -Dissenters, High Church feeling against them grew stronger and -stronger. Finally Defoe decided that the best service he could render -them was to show the views of the High Church party in all their -extreme savageness. The result was the pamphlet, _The Shortest Way -with the Dissenters; or, Proposals for the Establishment of the -Church_, which appeared on the first of December, 1702. - -Defoe was so successful in imagining High Tory sentiments in his -pamphlet, that it was received with indignation by the Dissenters -themselves and with acclaim by the extreme Churchmen. "I join with" -the author "in all he says," wrote one of them,[3] to a friend who had -sent him the pamphlet, "and have such a value for the book, that, next -to the Holy Bible and the sacred Comments, I take it for the most -valuable piece I have." Naturally there was a storm when the truth was -discovered and the High Tories found out that what they had praised -was ironical. They were immediately shamed into declaring the pamphlet -a dangerous libel, intended to stir up the Dissenters to civil war. -Defoe's bookseller and printer were accordingly arrested, and a reward -was offered for his apprehension. He gave himself up, was tried, and -sentenced to pay a fine of two hundred marks, to stand three times in -the pillory, and to go to prison for the Queen's pleasure. How Defoe -converted his punishment in the pillory into a triumph, and how -profitably he employed his time during his imprisonment, have been -already told in the introduction to _Robinson Crusoe_. - -G. H. MAYNADIER. - - - - -AUTHOR'S PREFACE - - -SIR,--It is so customary to write prefaces to all books of this kind, -to introduce them with the more advantage into the world, that I -cannot omit it, though on that account 'tis thought this work needs a -preface less than any that ever went before it. The pleasant and -delightful part speaks for itself; the useful and instructive is so -large, and capable of so many improvements, that it would employ a -book large as itself to make improvements suitable to the vast variety -of the subject. - -Here's room for just and copious observations on the blessings and -advantages of a sober and well-governed education, and the ruin of so -many thousands of youths of all kinds in this nation for want of it; -also, how much public schools and charities might be improved to -prevent the destruction of so, many unhappy children as in this town -are every year bred up for the gallows. - -The miserable condition of unhappy children, many of whose natural -tempers are docible, and would lead them to learn the best things -rather than the worst, is truly deplorable, and is abundantly seen in -the history of this man's childhood; where, though circumstances -formed him by necessity to be a thief, a strange rectitude of -principles remained with him, and made him early abhor the worst part -of his trade, and at last wholly leave it off. If he had come into the -world with the advantage of education, and been well instructed how to -improve the generous principles he had in him, what a man might he not -have been! - -The various turns of his fortunes in the world make a delightful field -for the reader to wander in; a garden where he may gather wholesome -and medicinal fruits, none noxious or poisonous; where he will see -virtue and the ways of wisdom everywhere applauded, honoured, -encouraged, rewarded; vice and all kinds of wickedness attended with -misery, many kinds of infelicities; and at last, sin and shame going -together, the persons meeting with reproof and reproach, and the -crimes with abhorrence. - -Every wicked reader will here be encouraged to a change, and it will -appear that the best and only good end of an impious, misspent life is -repentance; that in this there is comfort, peace, and oftentimes hope, -and that the penitent shall be returned like the prodigal, _and his -latter end be better than his beginning_. - -While these things, and such as these, are the ends and designs of the -whole book, I think I need not say one word more as an apology for any -part of the rest--no, nor for the whole. If discouraging everything -that is evil, and encouraging everything that is virtuous and good--I -say, if these appear to be the whole scope and design of the -publishing this story, no objection can lie against it; neither is it -of the least moment to inquire whether the Colonel hath told his own -story true or not; if he has made it a History or a Parable, it will -be equally useful, and capable of doing good; and in that it -recommends itself without any introduction.--Your humble servant, - -THE EDITOR. - - - - -THE LIFE OF COLONEL JACQUE - - -Seeing 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 ordinarily -the fate of the clan to which I once belonged, I think my history may -find a place in the world as well as some who 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 original may be as high as anybody'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 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 misfortune 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 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, he said, 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. - -But my disasters were not directed to end as soon as they began. It is -very seldom that the unfortunate are so but for a day; as the great -rise by degrees of greatness to the pitch of glory in which they -shine, so the miserable sink to the depth of their misery by a -continued series of disasters, and are long in the tortures and -agonies of their distressed circumstances, before a turn of fortune, -if ever such a thing happens to them, gives them a prospect of -deliverance. - -My nurse was as honest to the engagement she had entered into as could -be expected from one of her employment, and particularly 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 same terms. - -My name was John, as she told me, but neither she or I knew anything -of a surname that belonged to me; so I was left to call myself Mr. -Anything, what I pleased, as fortune and better circumstances should -give occasion. - -It happened that her own son (for she had a little boy of her own, -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. - -As we were all Johns, we were all Jacques, and soon came to be called -so; for at that part of the town where we had our breeding, viz., near -Goodman's Fields, the Johns are generally called Jacque; 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 captain, and I cried, and -told my nurse I would be called captain; for she told me I was a -gentleman, and I would be a captain, that I would. The good woman, to -keep the peace, told me, ay, ay, I was a gentleman, and therefore I -should be above a captain, for I should be a colonel, and that was a -great deal better than a captain; "for, my dear," says she, "every -tarpauling, if he gets but to be lieutenant of a press smack, is -called captain, but colonels are soldiers, and none but gentlemen are -ever made colonels. Besides," says she, "I have known colonels come to -be lords and generals, though they were bastards at first, and -therefore you shall be called colonel." - -Well, I was hushed indeed with this for the present, but not -thoroughly pleased, till, a little while after, I heard her tell her -own boy that I was a gentleman, and therefore he must call me colonel; -at which her boy fell a-crying, and he would be called colonel. That -part pleased me to the life, that he should cry to be called colonel, -for then I 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. - -So here was Colonel Jacque and Captain Jacque. As for the third boy, -he was only plain Jacque for some years after, till he came to -preferment by the merit of his birth, as you shall hear in its place. - -We were hopeful boys, all three of us, and promised very early, by -many repeated circumstances of our lives, that we would be all rogues; -and yet I cannot say, if what I have heard of my nurse's character be -true, but the honest woman did what she could to prevent it. - -Before I tell you much more of our story, it would be very proper to -give you 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 Jacques, and they shall be brief and impartial. - -Captain Jacque was the eldest of us all, by a whole year. He was a -squat, big, strong-made boy, and promised to be stout when grown up to -be a man, but not to be tall. His temper was sly, sullen, reserved, -malicious, revengeful; and, withal, he was brutish, bloody, and cruel -in his disposition. He was, as to manners, a mere boor, or clown, of a -carman-like breed; sharp as a street-bred boy must be, but ignorant -and unteachable from a child. He had much the nature of a bull-dog, -bold and desperate, but not generous at all. All the schoolmistresses -we went to could never make him learn--no, not so much as to make him -know his letters; and as if he was born a thief, he would steal -everything that came near him, even as soon almost as he could speak; -and that not from his mother only, but from anybody else, and from us -too that were his brethren and companions. He was an original rogue, -for he would do the foulest and most villainous things, even by his -own inclination; he had no taste or sense of being honest--no, not, I -say, to his brother rogues, which is what other thieves make a point -of honour of; I mean that of being honest to one another. - -The other, that is to say, the youngest of us Johns, was called Major -Jacque, by the accident following: The lady that had deposited him -with our nurse had owned to her that it was a major of the Guards that -was the father of the child, but that she was obliged to conceal his -name, and that was enough. So he was at first called John the Major, -and afterwards the Major; and at last, when we came to rove together, -Major Jacque, according to the rest, for his name was John, as I have -observed already. - -Major Jacque was a merry, facetious, pleasant boy, had a good share of -wit, especially off-hand-wit, as they call it; was full of jests and -good humour, and, as I often said, had something of a gentleman in -him. He had a true manly courage, feared nothing, and could look death -in the face without any hesitation; and yet, if he had the advantage, -was the most generous and most compassionate creature alive. He had -native principles of gallantry in him, without anything of the brutal -or terrible part that the captain had; and, in a word, he wanted -nothing but honesty to have made him an excellent man. He had learned -to read, as I had done; and as he talked very well, so he wrote good -sense and very handsome language, as you will see in the process of -his story. - -As for your humble servant, Colonel Jacque, he was a poor, unhappy, -tractable dog, willing enough, and capable too, to learn anything, if -he had had any but the devil for his schoolmaster. He set out into the -world so early, that when he began to do evil, he understood nothing -of the wickedness of it, nor what he had to expect for it. I remember -very well that when I was once carried before a justice, for a theft -which indeed I was not guilty of, and defended myself by argument, -proving the mistakes of my accusers, and how they contradicted -themselves, the justice told me it was a pity I had not been better -employed, for I was certainly better taught; in which, however, his -worship was mistaken, for I had never been taught anything but to be a -thief; except, as I said, to read and write, and that was all, before -I was ten years old; but I had a natural talent of talking, and could -say as much to the purpose as most people that had been taught no more -than I. - -I passed among my comrades for a bold, resolute boy, and one that -durst fight anything; but I had a different opinion of myself, and -therefore shunned fighting as much as I could, though sometimes I -ventured too, and came off well, being very strong made and nimble -withal. However, I many times brought myself off with my tongue, where -my hands would not have been sufficient, and this as well after I was -a man as while I was a boy. - -I was wary and dexterous at my trade, and was not so often catched 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 unhanged, as you shall hear. - -As for my person, while I was a dirty glass-bottle-house boy, sleeping -in the ashes, and dealing always in the street dirt, it cannot be -expected but that I looked like what I was, and so we did all; that is -to say, like a "black-your-shoes-your-honour," a beggar-boy, a -blackguard-boy, or what you please, despicable and miserable to the -last degree; and yet I remember the people would say of me, "That boy -has a good face; if he was washed and well dressed, he would be a -good, pretty boy. Do but look; what eyes he has; what a pleasant, -smiling countenance! 'Tis a pity. I wonder what the rogue's father and -mother was," and the like. Then they would call me, and ask me my -name, and I would tell them my name was Jacque. "But what's your -surname, sirrah?" says they. "I don't know," says I. "Who is your -father and mother?" "I have none," said I. "What, and never had you -any?" said they. "No," says I, "not that I know of." Then they would -shake their heads and cry, "Poor boy!" and "'Tis a pity," and the -like; and so let me go. But I laid up all these things in my heart. - -I was almost ten years old, the captain eleven, and the major about -eight, when the good woman my nurse died. Her husband was a seaman, -and had been drowned a little before in the _Gloucester_ frigate, one -of the king's ships which was cast away going to Scotland with the -Duke of York in the time of King Charles II., and the honest woman -dying very poor, the parish was obliged to bury her; when the three -young Jacques attended her corpse, and I, the colonel (for we all -passed for her own children), was chief mourner; the captain, who was -the eldest son, going back very sick. - -The good woman being dead, we, the three Jacques, were turned loose to -the world. As to the parish providing for us, we did not trouble -ourselves much about that; we rambled about all three together, and -the people in Rosemary Lane and Ratcliff, and that way, knowing us -pretty well, we got victuals easily enough and without much begging. - -For my particular part, I got some reputation for a mighty civil, -honest boy; for if I was sent off an errand, I always did it -punctually and carefully, and made haste again; and if I was trusted -with any thing, I never touched it to diminish it, but made it a point -of honour to be punctual to whatever was committed to me, though I was -as arrant a thief as any of them in all other cases. - -In like case, some of the poorer shopkeepers would often leave me at -their door, to look after their shops till they went up to dinner, or -till they went over the way to an alehouse, and the like, and I always -did it freely and cheerfully, and with the utmost honesty. - -Captain Jacque, on the contrary, a surly, ill-looking, rough boy, had -not a word in his mouth that savoured either of good manners or good -humour; he would say "Yes" and "No," just as he was asked a question, -and that was all, but nobody got any thing from him that was obliging -in the least. If he was sent off an errand he would forget half of it, -and it may be go to play, if he met any boys, and never go at all, or -if he went, never come back with an answer, which was such a -regardless, disobliging way that nobody had a good word for him, and -everybody said he had the very look of a rogue, and would come to be -hanged. In a word, he got nothing of anybody for goodwill, but was, as -it were, obliged to turn thief for the mere necessity of bread to eat; -for if he begged, he did it with so ill a tone, rather like bidding -folks give him victuals than entreating them, that one man, of whom he -had something given, and knew him, told him one day, "Captain Jacque," -says he, "thou art but an awkward, ugly sort of a beggar, now thou art -a boy; I doubt thou wilt be fitter to ask a man for his purse than for -a penny when thou comest to be a man." - -The major was a merry, thoughtless fellow, always cheerful; whether he -had any victuals or no, he never complained; and he recommended -himself so well by his good carriage that the neighbours loved him, -and he got victuals enough, one where or other. Thus we all made a -shift, though we were so little, to keep from starving; and as for -lodging, we lay in the summer-time about the watch-houses and on -bulkheads and shop-doors, where we were known. As for a bed, we knew -nothing what belonged to it for many years after my nurse died; -and in winter we got into the ash-holes and nealing-arches in the -glass-house, called Dallow's Glass-house, in Rosemary Lane, or at -another glass-house in Ratcliff Highway. - -In this manner we lived for some years; and here we failed not to fall -among a gang of naked, ragged rogues like ourselves, wicked as the -devil could desire to have them be at so early an age, and ripe for -all the other parts of mischief that suited them as they advanced in -years. - -I remember that one cold winter night we were disturbed in our rest -with a constable and his watch crying out for one Wry-neck, who, it -seems, had done some roguery, and required a hue-and-cry of that kind; -and the watch were informed he was to be found among the beggar-boys -under the nealing-arches in the glass-house. - -The alarm being given, we were awakened in the dead of the night with -"Come out here, ye crew of young devils; come out and show -yourselves;" so we were all produced. Some came out rubbing their eyes -and scratching their heads, and others were dragged out; and I think -there was about seventeen of us in all, but Wry-neck as they called -him, was not among them. It seems this was a good big boy, that used -to be among the inhabitants of that place, and had been concerned in a -robbery the night before, in which his comrade, who was taken, in -hopes of escaping punishment, had discovered him, and informed where -he usually harboured; but he was aware, it seems, and had secured -himself, at least for that time. So we were allowed to return to our -warm apartment among the coal-ashes, where I slept many a cold winter -night; nay, I may say, many a winter, as sound and as comfortably as -ever I did since, though in better lodgings. - -In this manner of living we went on a good while, I believe two years, -and neither did or meant any harm. We generally went all three -together; for, in short, the captain, for want of address, and for -something disagreeable in him, would have starved if we had not kept -him with us. As we were always together, we were generally known by -the name of the three Jacques; but Colonel Jacque had always the -preference, upon many accounts. The major, as I have said, was merry -and pleasant, but the colonel always held talk with the better sort--I -mean the better sort of those that would converse with a beggar-boy. -In this way of talk I was always upon the inquiry, asking questions of -things done in public, as well as in private; particularly, I loved to -talk with seamen and soldiers about the war, and about the great -sea-fights or battles on shore that any of them had been in; and, as I -never forgot anything they told me, I could soon, that is to say, in a -few years, give almost as good an account of the Dutch war, and of the -fights at sea, the battles in Flanders, the taking of Maestricht, and -the like, as any of those that had been there; and this made those old -soldiers and tars love to talk with me too, and to tell me all the -stories they could think of, and that not only of the wars then going -on, but also of the wars in Oliver's time, the death of King Charles -I., and the like. - -By this means, as young as I was, I was a kind of an historian; and -though I had read no books, and never had any books to read, yet I -could give a tolerable account of what had been done and of what was -then a-doing in the world, especially in those things that our own -people were concerned in. I knew the names of every ship in the navy, -and who commanded them too, and all this before I was fourteen years -old, or but very soon after. - -Captain Jacque in this time fell into bad company, and went away from -us, and it was a good while before we ever heard tale or tidings of -him, till about half a year, I think, or thereabouts. I understood he -was got among a gang of kidnappers, as they were then called, being a -sort of wicked fellows that used to spirit people's children away; -that is, snatch them up in the dark, and, stopping their mouths, carry -them to such houses where they had rogues ready to receive them, and -so carry them on board ships bound to Virginia, and sell them. - -This was a trade that horrid Jacque, for so I called him when we were -grown up, was very fit for, especially the violent part; for if a -little child got into his clutches, he would stop the breath of it, -instead of stopping its mouth, and never troubled his head with the -child's being almost strangled, so he did but keep it from making a -noise. There was, it seems, some villainous thing done by this gang -about that time, whether a child was murdered among them, or a child -otherwise abused; but it seems it was a child of an eminent citizen, -and the parent somehow or other got a scent of the thing, so that they -recovered their child, though in a sad condition, and almost killed. I -was too young, and it was too long ago, for me to remember the whole -story, but they were all taken up and sent to Newgate, and Captain -Jacque among the rest, though he was but young, for he was not then -much above thirteen years old. - -What punishment was inflicted upon the rogues of that gang I cannot -tell now, but the captain, being but a lad, was ordered to be three -times soundly whipped at Bridewell, my Lord Mayor, or the Recorder, -telling him it was done in pity to him, to keep him from the gallows, -not forgetting to tell him that he had a hanging look, and bid him -have a care on that very account; so remarkable was the captain's -countenance, even so young, and which he heard of afterwards on many -occasions. When he was in Bridewell I heard of his misfortune, and the -major and I went to see him; for this was the first news we heard of -what became of him. - -The very day that we went he was called out to be corrected, as they -called it, according to his sentence; and as it was ordered to be done -soundly, so indeed they were true to the sentence; for the alderman -who was the president of Bridewell, and whom I think they called Sir -William Turner, held preaching to him about how young he was, and what -pity it was such a youth should come to be hanged, and a great deal -more; how he should take warning by it, and how wicked a thing it was -that they should steal away poor innocent children, and the like; and -all this while the man with a blue badge on lashed him most -unmercifully, for he was not to leave off till Sir William knocked -with a little hammer on the table. - -The poor captain stamped and danced, and roared out like a mad boy; -and I must confess I was frighted almost to death; for though I could -not come near enough, being but a poor boy, to see how he was handled, -yet I saw him afterwards with his back all wealed with the lashes, and -in several places bloody, and thought I should have died with the -sight of it; but I grew better acquainted with those things -afterwards. - -I did what I could to comfort the poor captain when I got leave to -come to him. But the worst was not over with him, for he was to have -two more such whippings before they had done with him; and indeed they -scourged him so severely that they made him sick of the kidnapping -trade for a great while; but he fell in among them again, and kept -among them as long as that trade lasted, for it ceased in a few years -afterwards. - -The major and I, though very young, had sensible impressions made -upon us for some time by the severe usage of the captain, and it might -be very well said we were corrected as well as he, though not -concerned in the crime; but it was within the year that the major, a -good-conditioned, easy boy, was wheedled away by a couple of young -rogues that frequented the glass-house apartments, to take a walk with -them, as they were pleased to call it. The gentlemen were very well -matched; the major was about twelve years old, and the oldest of the -two that led him out was not above fourteen. The business was to go to -Bartholomew Fair, and the end of going to Bartholomew Fair was, in -short, 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 -young rogues managed it so well that by 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 themselves, and gave all to him, that, -if they had been taken, nothing might be found about them. - -It was a devilish lucky day to 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 captain. The list of their purchase the first -night was as follows:-- - -1. A white handkerchief from a country wench, as she was staring up at -a jack-pudding; there was 3s. 6d. and a row of pins tied up in one end -of it. - -2. A coloured handkerchief, out of a young country fellow's pocket as -he was buying a china orange. - -3. A riband purse with 11s. 3d. and a silver thimble in it, out of a -young woman's pocket, just as a fellow offered to pick her up. - -_N.B_.--She missed her purse presently, but, not seeing the thief, -charged the man with it that would have picked her up, and cried out, -"A pickpocket!" and he fell into the hands of the mob, but, being -known in the street, he got off with great difficulty. - -4. A knife and fork, that a couple of boys had just bought and were -going home with; the young rogue that took it got it within the minute -after the boy had put it in his pocket. - -5. A little silver box with 7s. in it, all in small silver, 1d., 2d., -3d., 4d. pieces. - -_N.B_.--This, it seems, a maid pulled out of her pocket, to pay at her -going into the booth to see a show, and the little rogue got his hand -in and fetched it off, just as she put it up again. - -6. Another silk handkerchief, out of a gentleman's pocket. - -7. Another. - -8. A jointed baby and a little looking-glass, stolen off a -toy-seller's stall in the fair. - -All this 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 next day to a -strange degree. - -He came very early to me, who lay not far from him, and said to me, -"Colonel Jacque, I want to speak with you." "Well," said I, "what do -you say?" "Nay," said he, "it is business of consequence; I cannot -talk here;" so we walked out. As soon as we were come out into a -narrow lane by the glass-house, "Look here," says he, and pulls out -his little hand almost full of money. - -I was surprised at the sight, when he puts it up again, and, bringing -his hand out, "Here," says he, "you shall have some of it;" and gives -me a sixpence and a shilling's worth of the small silver pieces. This -was very welcome to me, who, as much as I was of a gentleman, and as -much as I thought of myself upon that account, never had a shilling of -money together before in all my life, not that I could call my own. - -I was very earnest then to know how he came by this wealth, for he had -for his share 7s. 6d. in money, the silver thimble, and a silk -handkerchief, which was, in short, an estate to him, that never had, -as I said of myself, a shilling together in his life. - -"And what will you do with it now, Jacque?" said I. "I do?" says he. -"The first thing I do I'll go into Rag Fair and buy me a pair of shoes -and stockings." "That's right," says I, "and so will I too;" so away -we went together, and we bought each of us a pair of Rag Fair -stockings in the first place for fivepence; not fivepence a pair, but -fivepence together; and good stockings they were too, much above our -wear, I assure you. - -We found it more difficult to fit ourselves with shoes; but at last, -having looked a great while before we could find any good enough for -us, we found a shop very well stored, and of these we bought two pair -for sixteenpence. - -We put them on immediately, to our great comfort, for we had neither -of us had any stockings to our legs that had any feet to them for a -long time. I found myself so refreshed with having a pair of warm -stockings on, and a pair of dry shoes--things, I say, which I had not -been acquainted with a great while--that I began to call to my mind my -being a gentleman, and now I thought it began to come to pass. When we -had thus fitted ourselves I said, "Hark ye, Major Jacque, you and I -never had any money in our lives before, and we never had a good -dinner in all our lives. What if we should go somewhere and get some -victuals? I am very hungry." - -"So we will, then," says the major; "I am hungry too." So we went to a -boiling cook's in Rosemary Lane, where we treated ourselves nobly, -and, as I thought with myself, we began to live like gentlemen, for we -had three pennyworth of boiled beef, two pennyworth of pudding, a -penny brick (as they call it, or loaf), and a whole pint of strong -beer, which was sevenpence in all. - -_N.B_.--We had each of us a good mess of charming beef-broth into the -bargain; and, which cheered my heart wonderfully, all the while we -were at dinner, the maid and the boy in the house, every time they -passed by the open box where we sat at our dinner, would look in and -cry, "Gentlemen, do you call?" and "Do ye call, gentlemen?" I say, -this was as good to me as all my dinner. - -Not the best housekeeper in Stepney parish, not my Lord Mayor of -London, no, not the greatest man on earth, could be more happy in -their own imagination, and with less mixture of grief or reflection, -than I was at this new piece of felicity; though mine was but a small -part of it, for Major Jacque had an estate compared to me, as I had an -estate compared to what I had before; in a word, nothing but an utter -ignorance of greater felicity, which was my case, could make anybody -think himself so exalted as I did, though I had no share of this booty -but eighteenpence. - -That night the major and I triumphed in our new enjoyment, and slept -with an undisturbed repose in the usual place, surrounded with the -warmth of the glass-house fires above, which was a full amends for all -the ashes and cinders which we rolled in below. - -Those who know the position of the glass-houses, and the arches where -they neal the bottles after they are made, know that those places -where the ashes are cast, and where the poor boys lie, are cavities in -the brickwork, perfectly close, except at the entrance, and -consequently warm as the dressing-room of a bagnio, that it is -impossible they can feel any cold there, were it in Greenland or Nova -Zembla, and that therefore the boys lie there not only safe, but very -comfortably, the ashes excepted, which are no grievance at all to -them. - -The next day the major and his comrades went abroad again, and were -still successful; nor did any disaster attend them, for I know not how -many months; and, by frequent imitation and direction, Major Jacque -became as dexterous a pickpocket as any of them, and went on through a -long variety of fortunes, too long to enter upon now, because I am -hastening to my own story, which at present is the main thing I have -to set down. - -The major failed not to let me see every day the effects of his new -prosperity, and was so bountiful as frequently to throw me a tester, -sometimes a shilling; and I might perceive that he began to have -clothes on his back, to leave the ash-hole, having gotten a society -lodging (of which I may give an explanation by itself on another -occasion); and which was more, he took upon him to wear a shirt, which -was what neither he or I had ventured to do for three years before, -and upward. - -But I observed all this while, that though Major Jacque was so -prosperous and had thriven so well, and notwithstanding he was very -kind, and even generous, to me, in giving me money upon many -occasions, yet he never invited me to enter myself into the society or -to embark with him, whereby I might have been made as happy as he; no, -nor did he recommend the employment to me at all. - -I was not very well pleased with his being thus reserved to me. I had -learned from him in general that the business was picking of pockets, -and I fancied that though the ingenuity of the trade consisted very -much in sleight-of-hand, a good address, and being very nimble, yet -that it was not at all difficult to learn; and, especially, I thought -the opportunities were so many, the country people that come to London -so foolish, so gaping, and so engaged in looking about them, that it -was a trade with no great hazard annexed to it, and might be easily -learned, if I did but know in general the manner of it, and how they -went about it. - -The subtle devil, never absent from his business, but ready at all -occasions to encourage his servants, removed all these difficulties, -and brought him into an intimacy with one of the most exquisite -divers, or pickpockets, in the town; and this, our intimacy, was of no -less a kind than that, as I had an inclination to be as wicked as any -of them, he was for taking care that I should not be disappointed. - -He was above the little fellows who went about stealing trifles and -baubles in Bartholomew Fair, and ran the risk of being mobbed for -three or four shillings. His aim was at higher things, even at no less -than considerable sums of money, and bills for more. - -He solicited me earnestly to go and take a walk with him as above, -adding that after he had shown me my trade a little, he would let me -be as wicked as I would; that is, as he expressed it, that after he -had made me capable, I should set up for myself, if I pleased, and he -would only wish me good luck. - -Accordingly, as Major Jacque went with his gentlemen only to see the -manner, and receive the purchase, and yet come in for a share; so he -told me, if he had success, I should have my share as much as if I had -been principal; and this he assured me was a custom of the trade, in -order to encourage young beginners, and bring them into the trade with -courage, for that nothing was to be done if a man had not the heart of -the lion. - -I hesitated at the matter a great while, objecting the hazard, and -telling the story of Captain Jacque, my elder brother, as I might call -him. "Well, colonel," says he, "I find you are faint-hearted, and to -be faint-hearted is indeed to be unfit for our trade, for nothing but -a bold heart can go through stitch with this work; but, however, as -there is nothing for you to do, so there is no risk for you to run in -these things the first time. If I am taken," says he, "you have -nothing to do in it; they will let you go free; for it shall easily be -made appear, that whatever I have done, you had no hand in it." - -Upon these persuasions I ventured out with him; but I soon found that -my new friend was a thief of quality, and a pickpocket above the -ordinary rank, and that aimed higher abundantly than my brother -Jacque. He was a bigger boy than I a great deal; for though I was now -near fifteen years old, I was not big of my age; and as to the nature -of the thing, I was perfectly a stranger to it. I knew indeed what at -first I did not, for it was a good while before I understood the thing -as an offence. I looked on picking pockets as a kind of trade, and -thought I was to go apprentice to it. It is true this was when I was -young in the society, as well as younger in years, but even now I -understood it to be only a thing for which, if we were catched, we ran -the risk of being ducked or pumped, which we call soaking, and then -all was over; and we made nothing of having our rags wetted a little; -but I never understood, till a great while after, that the crime was -capital, and that we might be sent to Newgate for it, till a great -fellow, almost a man, one of our society, was hanged for it; and then -I was terribly frighted, as you shall hear by-and-by. - -Well, upon the persuasions of this lad, I walked out with him; a poor -innocent boy, and (as I remember my very thoughts perfectly well) I -had no evil in my intentions. I had never stolen anything in my life; -and if a goldsmith had left me in his shop, with heaps of money -strewed all round me, and bade me look after it, I should not have -touched it, I was so honest; but the subtle tempter baited his hook -for me, as I was a child, in a manner suited to my childishness, for I -never took this picking of pockets to be dishonesty, but, as I have -said above, I looked on it as a kind of trade that I was to be bred up -to, and so I entered upon it, till I became hardened in it beyond the -power of retreating. And thus I was made a thief involuntarily, and -went on a length that few boys do, without coming to the common period -of that kind of life--I mean to the transport-ship, or to the gallows. - -The first day I went abroad with my new instructor, he carried me -directly into the city, and as we went first to the water-side, he led -me into the long-room at the custom-house. We were but a couple of -ragged boys at best, but I was much the worse. My leader had a hat on, -a shirt, and a neckcloth; as for me, I had neither of the three, nor -had I spoiled my manners so much as to have a hat on my head since my -nurse died, which was now some years. His orders to me were to keep -always in sight, and near him, but not close to him, nor to take any -notice of him at any time till he came to me; and if any hurly-burly -happened, I should by no means know him, or pretend to have anything -to do with him. - -I observed my orders to a tittle. While he peered into every corner -and had his eye upon everybody, I kept my eye directly upon him, but -went always at a distance, and on the other side of the long-room, -looking as it were for pins, and picking them up out of the dust as I -could find them, and then sticking them on my sleeve, where I had at -last gotten forty or fifty good pins; but still my eye was upon my -comrade, who, I observed, was very busy among the crowds of people -that stood at the board doing business with the officers who pass the -entries and make the cockets, &c. - -At length he comes over to me, and stooping as if he would take up a -pin close to me, he put some thing into my hand, and said, "Put that -up, and follow me downstairs quickly." He did not run, but shuffled -along apace through the crowd, and went down, not the great stairs -which we came in at, but a little narrow staircase at the other end of -the long-room. I followed, and he found I did, and so went on, not -stopping below, as I expected, nor speaking one word to me, till, -through innumerable narrow passages, alleys, and dark ways, we were -got up into Fenchurch Street, and through Billiter Lane into -Leadenhall Street, and from thence into Leadenhall Market. - -It was not a meat-market day, so we had room to sit down upon one of -the butchers' stalls, and he bid me lug out. What he had given me was -a little leather letter-case, with a French almanac stuck in the -inside of it, and a great many papers in it of several kinds. - -We looked them over, and found there was several valuable bills in it, -such as bills of exchange and other notes, things I did not -understand; but among the rest was a goldsmith's note, as he called -it, of one Sir Stephen Evans, for 300, payable to the bearer, and at -demand. Besides this, there was another note for 12, 10s., being a -goldsmith's bill too, but I forget the name. There was a bill or two -also written in French, which neither of us understood, but which, it -seems, were things of value, being called foreign bills accepted. - -The rogue, my master, knew what belonged to the goldsmiths' bills well -enough, and I observed, when he read the bill of Sir Stephen, he said, -"This is too big for me to meddle with;" but when he came to the bill -12, 10s., he said to me, "This will do. Come hither, Jacque;" so away -he runs to Lombard Street, and I after him, huddling the other papers -into the letter-case. As he went along he inquired the name out -immediately, and went directly to the shop, put on a good, grave -countenance, and had the money paid him without any stop or question -asked. I stood on the other side the way looking about the street, as -not at all concerned with anybody that way, but observed that when he -presented the bill he pulled out the letter-case, as if he had been a -merchant's boy, acquainted with business, and had other bills about -him. - -They paid him the money in gold, and he made haste enough in telling -it over, and came away, passing by me, and going into Three King -Court, on the other side of the way; then we crossed back into -Clement's Lane, made the best of our way to Cole Harbour, at the -water-side, and got a sculler for a penny to carry us over the water -to St. Mary Overy's stairs, where we landed, and were safe enough. - -Here he turns to me; "Colonel Jacque," says he, "I believe you are a -lucky boy; this is a good job. We'll go away to St. George's Fields -and share our booty." Away we went to the Fields, and sitting down in -the grass, far enough out of the path, he pulled out the money. "Look -here, Jacque," says he, "did you ever see the like before in your -life?" "No, never," says I; and added very innocently, "Must we have -it all?" "We have it!" says he, "who should have it?" "Why," says I, -"must the man have none of it again that lost it?" "He have it again!" -says he. "What d'ye mean by that?" "Nay, I don't know," says I. "Why, -you said just now you would let him have the t'other bill again, that -you said was too big for you." - -He laughed at me. "You are but a little boy," says he, "that's true, -but I thought you had not been such a child neither;" so he mighty -gravely explained the thing to me thus: that the bill of Sir Stephen -Evans was a great bill for 300, "and if I," says he, "that am but a -poor lad, should venture to go for the money, they will presently say, -how should I come by such a bill, and that I certainly found it or -stole it; so they will stop me," says he, "and take it away from me, -and it may bring me into trouble for it too; so," says he, "I did say -it was too big for me to meddle with, and that I would let the man -have it again, if I could tell how. But for the money, Jacque, the -money that we have got, I warrant you he should have none of that. -Besides," says he, "whoever he be that has lost this letter-case, to -be sure, as soon as he missed it, he would run to the goldsmith and -give notice that if anybody came for the money they would be stopped; -but I am too old for him there," says he. - -"Why," says I, "and what will you do with the bill? Will you throw it -away? If you do, somebody else will find it," says I, "and they will -go and take the money." "No, no," says he; "then they will be stopped -and examined, as I tell you I should be." I did not know well what all -this meant, so I talked no more about that; but we fell to handling -the money. As for me, I had never seen so much together in all my -life, nor did I know what in the world to do with it, and once or -twice I was a-going to bid him keep it for me, which would have been -done like a child indeed, for, to be sure, I had never heard a word -more of it, though nothing had befallen him. - -However, as I happened to hold my tongue as to that part, he shared -the money very honestly with me; only at the end he told me, that -though it was true he promised me half, yet as it was the first time, -and I had done nothing but look on, so he thought it was very well if -I took a little less than he did; so he divided the money, which was -12, 10s., into two exact parts, viz., 6, 5s. in each part; then he -took 1, 5s. from my part, and told me I should give him that for -hansel. "Well," says I, "take it, then, for I think you deserve it -all:" so, however, I took up the rest, and "What shall I do with this -now," says I, "for I have nowhere to put it?" "Why, have you no -pockets?" says he. "Yes," says I; "but they are full of holes." I have -often thought since that, and with some mirth too, how I had really -more wealth than I knew what to do with; for lodging I had none, nor -any box or drawer to hide my money in; nor had I any pocket, but such -as I say was full of holes. I knew nobody in the world that I could go -and desire them to lay it up for me; for, being a poor naked, ragged -boy, they would presently say I had robbed somebody, and perhaps lay -hold of me, and my money would be my crime, as they say it often is in -foreign countries. And now, as I was full of wealth, behold I was full -of care, for what to do to secure my money I could not tell; and this -held me so long, and was so vexatious to me the next day, that I truly -sat down and cried. - -Nothing could be more perplexing than this money was to me all that -night. I carried it in my hand a good while, for it was in gold, all -but 14s.; and that is to say, it was in four guineas, and that 14s. -was more difficult to carry than the four guineas. At last I sat down -and pulled off one of my shoes, and put the four guineas into that; -but after I had gone a while, my shoe hurt me so I could not go, so I -was fain to sit down again and take it out of my shoe, and carry it in -my hand. Then I found a dirty linen rag in the street, and I took that -up and wrapped it all together, and carried it in that a good way. I -have often since heard people say, when they have been talking of -money that they could not get in, "I wish I had it in a foul clout;" -in truth, I had mine in a foul clout; for it was foul, according to -the letter of that saying, but it served me till I came to a -convenient place, and then I sat down and washed the cloth in the -kennel, and so then put my money in again. - -Well, I carried it home with me to my lodging in the glass-house, and -when I went to go to sleep I knew not what to do with it. If I had let -any of the black crew I was with know of it, I should have been -smothered in the ashes for it, or robbed of it, or some trick or other -put upon me for it; so I knew not what to do, but lay with it in my -hand, and my hand in my bosom. But then sleep went from my eyes. Oh, -the weight of human care! I, a poor beggar-boy, could not sleep so -soon as I had but a little money to keep, who before that could have -slept upon a heap of brick-bats, or stones, or cinders, or anywhere, -as sound as a rich man does on his down bed, and sounder too. - -Every now and then dropping asleep, I should dream that my money was -lost, and start like one frighted; then, finding it fast in my hand, -try to go to sleep again, but could not for a long while; then drop -and start again. At last a fancy came into my head that if I fell -asleep I should dream of the money, and talk of it in my sleep, and -tell that I had money, which if I should do, and one of the rogues -should hear me, they would pick it out of my bosom, and of my hand -too, without waking me; and after that thought I could not sleep a -wink more; so that I passed that night over in care and anxiety -enough; and this, I may safely say, was the first night's rest that I -lost by the cares of this life and the deceitfulness of riches. - -As soon as it was day I got out of the hole we lay in, and rambled -abroad in the fields towards Stepney, and there I mused and considered -what I should do with this money, and many a time I wished that I had -not had it; for, after all my ruminating upon it, and what course I -should take with it, or where I should put it, I could not hit upon -any one thing, or any possible method to secure it, and it perplexed -me so that at last, as I said just now, I sat down and cried heartily. - -When my crying was over the case was the same; I had the money still, -and what to do with it I could not tell. At last it came into my head -that I would look out for some hole in a tree, and seek to hide it -there till I should have occasion for it. Big was this discovery, as I -then thought it. I began to look about me for a tree; but there were -no trees in the fields about Stepney or Mile End that looked fit for -my purpose; and if there were any that I began to look narrowly at, -the fields were so full of people that they would see if I went to -hide any thing there; and I thought the people eyed me as it was, and -that two men in particular followed me to see what I intended to do. - -This drove me farther off, and I crossed the road at Mile End, and in -the middle of the town went down a lane that goes away to the Blind -Beggar's at Bethnal Green. When I came a little way in the lane I -found a footpath over the fields, and in those fields several trees -for my turn, as I thought. At last one tree had a little hole in it, -pretty high out of my reach, and I climbed up the tree to get it, and -when I came there I put my hand in, and found (as I thought) a place -very fit, so I placed my treasure there, and was mighty well satisfied -with it; but, behold, putting my hand in again to lay it more -commodiously, as I thought, of a sudden it slipped away from me, and I -found the tree was hollow, and my little parcel was fallen in quite -out of my reach, and how far it might go in I knew not; so that, in a -word, my money was quite gone, irrecoverably lost. There could be no -room so much as to hope ever to see it again, for 'twas a vast great -tree. - -As young as I was, I was now sensible what a fool I was before, that I -could not think of ways to keep my mpney, but I must come thus far to -throw it into a hole where I could not reach it. Well, I thrust my -hand quite up to my elbow, but no bottom was to be found, or any end -of the hole or cavity. I got a stick of the tree, and thrust it in a -great way, but all was one. Then I cried, nay, roared out, I was in -such a passion. Then I got down the tree again, then up again, and -thrust in my hand again till I scratched my arm and made it bleed, and -cried all the while most violently. Then I began to think I had not so -much as a halfpenny of it left for a halfpenny roll, and I was hungry, -and then I cried again. Then I came away in despair, crying and -roaring like a little boy that had been whipped; then I went back -again to the tree, and up the tree again, and thus I did several -times. The last time I had gotten up the tree I happened to come down -not on the same side that I went up and came down before, but on the -other side of the tree, and on the side of the bank also; and, behold, -the tree had a great open place in the side of it close to the ground, -as old hollow trees often have; and looking into the open place, to my -inexpressible joy, there lay my money and my linen rag, all wrapped up -just as I had put it into the hole; for the tree being hollow all the -way up, there had been some moss or light stuff, which I had not -judgment enough to know was not firm, and had given way when it came -to drop out of my hand, and so it had slipped quite down at once. - -I was but a child, and I rejoiced like a child, for I halloed quite -out loud when I saw it; then I ran to it, and snatched it up, hugged -and kissed the dirty rag a hundred times; then danced and jumped -about, ran from one end of the field to the other, and, in short, I -knew not what; much less do I know now what I did, though I shall -never forget the thing, either what a sinking grief it was to my heart -when I thought I had lost it, or what a flood of joy overwhelmed me -when I had got it again. - -While I was in the first transport of my joy, as I have said, I ran -about, and knew not what I did; but when that was over I sat down, -opened the foul clout the money was in, looked at it, told it, found -it was all there, and then I fell a-crying as savourly as I did -before, when I thought I had lost it. - -It would tire the reader should I dwell on all the little boyish -tricks that I played in the ecstasy of my joy and satisfaction when I -had found my money; so I break off here. Joy is as extravagant as -grief, and since I have been a man I have often thought, that had such -a thing befallen a man, so to have lost all he had, and not have a bit -of bread to eat, and then so strangely to find it again, after having -given it so effectually over--I say, had it been so with a man, it -might have hazarded his using some violence upon himself. - -Well, I came away with my money, and having taken sixpence out of it, -before I made it up again I went to a chandler's shop in Mile End and -bought a halfpenny roll and a halfpenny worth of cheese, and sat down -at the door after I bought it, and ate it very heartily, and begged -some beer to drink with it, which the good woman gave me very freely. - -Away I went then for the town, to see if I could find any of my -companions, and resolved I would try no more hollow trees for my -treasure. As I came along Whitechapel I came by a broker's shop over -against the church, where they sold old clothes, for I had nothing on -but the worst of rags; so I stopped at the shop, and stood looking at -the clothes which hung at the door. - -"Well, young gentleman," says a man that stood at the door, "you look -wishfully. Do you see any thing you like, and will your pocket compass -a good coat now, for you look as if you belonged to the ragged -regiment?" I was affronted at the fellow. "What's that to you," says -I, "how ragged I am? If I had seen anything I liked, I have money to -pay for it; but I can go where I shan't be huffed at for looking." - -While I said thus pretty boldly to the fellow comes a woman out. "What -ails you," says she to the man, "to bully away our customers so? A -poor boy's money is as good as my Lord Mayor's. If poor people did not -buy old clothes, what would become of our business?" And then turning -to me, "Come hither, child," says she; "if thou hast a mind to -anything I have, you shan't be hectored by him. The boy is a pretty -boy, I assure you," says she to another woman that was by this time -come to her. "Ay," says the t'other, "so he is, a very well-looking -child, if he was clean and well dressed, and may be as good a -gentleman's son, for anything we know, as any of those that are well -dressed. Come, my dear," says she, "tell me what is it you would -have." She pleased me mightily to hear her talk of my being a -gentleman's son, and it brought former things to my mind; but when she -talked of my being not clean and in rags, then I cried. - -She pressed me to tell her if I saw anything that I wanted. I told her -no, all the clothes I saw there were too big for me. "Come, child," -says she, "I have two things here that will fit you, and I am sure you -want them both; that is, first, a little hat, and there," says she -(tossing it to me), "I'll give you that for nothing. And here is a -good warm pair of breeches; I dare say," says she, "they will fit you, -and they are very tight and good; and," says she, "if you should ever -come to have so much money that you don't know what to do with it, -here are excellent good pockets," says she, "and a little fob to put -your gold in, or your watch in, when you get it." - -It struck me with a strange kind of joy that I should have a place to -put my money in, and need not go to hide it again in a hollow tree, -that I was ready to snatch the breeches out of her hands, and wondered -that I should be such a fool never to think of buying me a pair of -breeches before, that I might have a pocket to put my money in, and -not carry it about two days together in my hand, and in my shoes and I -knew not how; so, in a word, I gave her two shillings for the -breeches, and went over into the churchyard and put them on, put my -money into my new pockets, and was as pleased as a prince is with his -coach and six horses. I thanked the good woman too for the hat, and -told her I would come again when I got more money, and buy some other -things I wanted; and so I came away. - -I was but a boy, 'tis true, but I thought myself a man, now I had got -a pocket to put my money in, and I went directly to find out my -companion by whose means I got it; but I was frighted out of my wits -when I heard that he was carried to Bridewell. I made no question but -it was for the letter-case, and that I should be carried there too; -and then my poor brother Captain Jacque's case came into my head, and -that I should be whipped there as cruelly as he was, and I was in such -a fright that I knew not what to do. - -But in the afternoon I met him; he had been carried to Bridewell, it -seems, upon that very affair, but was got out again. The case was -thus: having had such good luck at the custom-house the day before, he -takes his walk thither again, and as he was in the long-room, gaping -and staring about him, a fellow lays hold of him, and calls to one of -the clerks that sat behind, "Here," says he, "is the same young rogue -that I told you I saw loitering about t'other day, when the gentleman -lost his letter-case and his goldsmiths' bills; I dare say it was he -that stole them." Immediately the whole crowd of people gathered about -the boy, and charged him point-blank; but he was too well used to such -things to be frighted into a confession of what he knew they could not -prove, for he had nothing about him belonging to it, nor had any money -but six pence and a few dirty farthings. - -They threatened him, and pulled and hauled him, till they almost -pulled the clothes off his back, and the commissioners examined him; -but all was one; he would own nothing, but said he walked up through -the room, only to see the place, both then and the time before, for he -had owned he was there before; so, as there was no proof against him -of any fact, no, nor of any circumstances relating to the letter-case, -they were forced at last to let him go. However, they made a show of -carrying him to Bridewell, and they did carry him to the gate to see -if they could make him confess anything; but he would confess nothing, -and they had no mittimus; so they durst not carry him into the house; -nor would the people have received him, I suppose, if they had, they -having no warrant for putting him in prison. - -Well, when they could get nothing out of him, they carried him into an -alehouse, and there they told him that the letter-case had bills in it -of a very great value; that they would be of no use to the rogue that -had them, but they would be of infinite damage to the gentleman that -had lost them; and that he had left word with the clerk, whom the man -that stopped this boy had called to, and who was there with him, that -he would give 30 to any one that would bring them again, and give all -the security that could be desired that he would give them no trouble, -whoever it was. - -He was just come from out of their hands when I met with him, and so -he told me all the story. "But," says he, "I would confess nothing, -and so I got off, and am come away clear." "Well," says I, "and what -will you do with the letter-case and the bills? Will you not let the -poor man have his bills again?" "No, not I," says he; "I won't trust -them. What care I for their bills?" It came into my head, as young as -I was, that it was a sad thing indeed to take a man's bills away for -so much money, and not have any advantage by it neither; for I -concluded that the gentleman who owned the bills must lose all the -money, and it was strange he should keep the bills, and make a -gentleman lose so much money for nothing. I remember that I ruminated -very much about it, and though I did not understand it very well, yet -it lay upon my mind, and I said every now and then to him, "Do let the -gentleman have his bills again; do, pray do;" and so I teased him, -with "Do" and "Pray do," till at last I cried about them. He said, -"What, would you have me be found out and sent to Bridewell, and be -whipped, as your brother Captain Jacque was?" I said, "No, I would not -have you whipped, but I would have the man have his bills, for they -will do you no good, but the gentleman will be undone, it may be." And -then I added again, "Do let him have them." He snapped me short. -"Why," says he, "how shall I get them to him? Who dare carry them? I -dare not, to be sure, for they will stop me, and bring the goldsmith -to see if he does not know me, and that I received the money, and so -they will prove the robbery, and I shall be hanged. Would you have me -be hanged, Jacque?" - -I was silenced a good while with that, for when he said, "Would you -have me be hanged, Jacque?" I had no more to say. But one day after -this he called to me. "Colonel Jacque," says he, "I have thought of a -way how the gentleman shall have his bills again; and you and I shall -get a good deal of money by it, if you will be honest to me, as I was -to you." "Indeed," says I, "Robin"--that was his name--"I will be very -honest; let me know how it is, for I would fain have him have his -bills." - -"Why," says he, "they told me that he had left word at the clerk's -place in the long-room that he would give 30 to any one that had the -bills, and would restore them, and would ask no questions. Now, if you -will go, like a poor innocent boy, as you are, into the long-room and -speak to the clerk, it may do. Tell him if the gentleman will do as he -promised, you believe you can tell him who has it; and if they are -civil to you, and willing to be as good as their words, you shall have -the letter-case, and give it them." - -I told him ay, I would go with all my heart. "But, Colonel Jacque," -says he, "what if they should take hold of you and threaten to have -you whipped? Won't you discover me to them?" "No," says I; "if they -would whip me to death I won't." "Well, then," says he, "there's the -letter-case; do you go." So he gave me directions how to act and what -to say; but I would not take the letter-case with me, lest they should -prove false, and take hold of me, thinking to find it upon me, and so -charge me with the fact; so I left it with him. And the next morning I -went to the custom-house, as was agreed. What my directions were will, -to avoid repetition, appear in what happened; it was an errand of too -much consequence indeed to be entrusted to a boy, not only so young as -I was, but so little of a rogue as I was yet arrived to the degree of. - -Two things I was particularly armed with, which I resolved upon: 1. -That the man should have his bills again; for it seemed a horrible -thing to me that he should be made to lose his money, which I supposed -he must, purely because we would not carry the letter-case home. 2. -That whatever happened to me, I was never to tell the name of my -comrade Robin, who had been the principal. With these two pieces of -honesty, for such they were both in themselves, and with a manly -heart, though a boy's head, I went up into the long-room in the -custom-house the next day. - -As soon as I came to the place where the thing was done, I saw the man -sit just where he had sat before, and it ran in my head that he had -sat there ever since; but I knew no better; so I went up, and stood -just at that side of the writing-board that goes upon that side of the -room, and which I was but just tall enough to lay my arms upon. - -While I stood there one thrust me this way, and another thrust me that -way, and the man that sat behind began to look at me. At last he -called out to me, "What does that boy do there? Get you gone, sirrah! -Are you one of the rogues that stole the gentleman's letter-case a -Monday last?" Then he turns his tale to a gentleman that was doing -business with him, and goes on thus: "Here was Mr. ---- had a very -unlucky chance on Monday last. Did not you hear of it?" "No, not I," -says the gentleman. "Why, standing just there, where you do," says he, -"making his entries, he pulled out his letter-case, and laid it down, -as he says, but just at his hand, while he reached over to the -standish there for a penful of ink, and somebody stole away his -letter-case." - -"His letter-case!" says t'other. "What, and was there any bills in -it?" - -"Ay," says he, "there was Sir Stephen Evans's note in it for 300, and -another goldsmith's bill for about 12; and which is worse still for -the gentleman, he had two foreign accepted bills in it for a great -sum--I know not how much. I think one was a French bill for 1200 -crowns." - -"And who could it be?" says the gentleman. - -"Nobody knows," says he; "but one of our room-keepers says he saw a -couple of young rogues like that," pointing at me, "hanging about -here, and that on a sudden they were both gone." - -"Villains!" says he again. "Why, what can they do with them? They will -be of no use to them. I suppose he went immediately and gave notice to -prevent the payment." - -"Yes," says the clerk, "he did; but the rogues were too nimble for him -with the little bill of 12 odd money; they went and got the money for -that, but all the rest are stopped. However, 'tis an unspeakable -damage to him for want of his money." - -"Why, he should publish a reward for the encouragement of those that -have them to bring them again; they would be glad to bring them, I -warrant you." - -"He has posted it up at the door that he will give 30 for them." - -"Ay; but he should add that he will promise not to stop or give any -trouble to the person that brings them." - -"He has done that too," says he; "but I fear they won't trust -themselves to be honest, for fear he should break his word." - -"Why? It is true he may break his word in that case, but no man should -do so; for then no rogue will venture to bring home anything that is -stolen, and so he would do an injury to others after him." - -"I durst pawn my life for him, he would scorn it." - -Thus far they discoursed of it, and then went off to something else. I -heard it all, but did not know what to do a great while; but at last, -watching the gentleman that went away, when he was gone I ran after -him to have spoken to him, intending to have broke it to him, but he -went hastily into a room or two full of people at the hither end of -the long-room; and when I went to follow, the doorkeepers turned me -back, and told me I must not go in there; so I went back, and loitered -about near the man that sat behind the board, and hung about there -till I found the clock struck twelve, and the room began to be thin of -people; and at last he sat there writing, but nobody stood at the -board before him, as there had all the rest of the morning. Then I -came a little nearer, and stood close to the board, as I did before; -when, looking up from his paper, and seeing me, says he to me, "You -have been up and down here all this morning, sirrah! What do you want? -You have some business that is not very good, I doubt." - -"No, I han't," said I. - -"No? It is well if you han't," says he. "Pray, what business can you -have in the long-room, sir? You are no merchant." - -"I would speak with you," said I. - -"With me!" says he. "What have you to say to me?" - -"I have something to say," said I, "if you will do me no harm for it." - -"I do thee harm, child! What harm should I do thee?" and spoke very -kindly. - -"Won't you indeed, sir?" said I. - -"No, not I, child; I'll do thee no harm. What is it? Do you know -anything of the gentleman's letter-case?" - -I answered, but spoke softly that he could not hear me; so he gets -over presently into the seat next him, and opens a place that was made -to come out, and bade me come in to him; and I did. - -Then he asked me again if I knew anything of the letter-case. - -I spoke softly again, and said folks would hear him. - -Then he whispered softly, and asked me again. - -I told him I believed I did, but that, indeed, I had it not, nor had -no hand in stealing it, but it was gotten into the hands of a boy that -would have burned it, if it had not been for me; and that I heard him -say that the gentleman would be glad to have them again, and give a -good deal of money for them. - -"I did say so, child," said he; "and if you can get them for him, he -shall give you a good reward, no less than 30, as he has promised." - -"But you said too, sir, to the gentleman just now," said I, "that you -was sure he would not bring them into any harm that should bring -them." - -"No, you shall come to no harm. I will pass my word for it." - -_Boy_. Nor shan't they make me bring other people into trouble? - -_Gent_. No; you shall not be asked the name of anybody, nor to tell -who they are. - -_Boy_. I am but a poor boy, and I would fain have the gentleman have -his bills; and indeed I did not take them away, nor I han't got them. - -_Gent_. But can you tell how the gentleman shall have them? - -_Boy_. If I can get them, I will bring them to you to-morrow morning. - -_Gent_. Can you not do it to-night? - -_Boy_. I believe I may if I knew where to come. - -_Gent_. Come to my house, child. - -_Boy_. I don't know where you live. - -_Gent_. Go along with me now, and you shall see. - -So he carried me up into Tower Street, and showed me his house, and -ordered me to come there at five o'clock at night; which accordingly I -did, and carried the letter-case with me. - -When I came the gentleman asked me if I had brought the book, as he -called it. - -"It is not a book," said I. - -"No, the letter-case; that's all one," says he. - -"You promised me," said I, "you would not hurt me," and cried. - -"Don't be afraid, child," says he. "I will not hurt thee, poor boy; -nobody shall hurt thee." - -"Here it is," said I, and pulled it out. - -He then brought in another gentleman, who, it seems, owned the -letter-case, and asked him if that was it, and he said, "Yes." - -Then he asked me if all the bills were in it. - -I told him I heard him say there was one gone, but I believed there -was all the rest. - -"Why do you believe so?" says he. - -"Because I heard the boy that I believe stole them say they were too -big for him to meddle with." - -The gentleman then that owned them said, "Where is the boy?" - -Then the other gentleman put in, and said, "No, you must not ask him -that; I passed my word that you should not, and that he should not be -obliged to tell it to anybody." - -"Well, child," says he, "you will let us see the letter-case opened, -and whether the bills are in it?" - -"Yes," says I. - -Then the first gentleman said, "How many bills were there in it?" - -"Only three," says he. "Besides the bill of 12, 10s., there was Sir -Stephen Evans's note for 300 and two foreign bills." - -"Well, then, if they are in the letter-case, the boy shall have 30, -shall he not?" "Yes," says the gentleman; "he shall have it very -freely." - -"Come, then, child," says he, "let me open it." - -So I gave it him, and he opened it, and there were all three bills, -and several other papers, fair and safe, nothing defaced or -diminished; and the gentleman said, "All is right." - -Then said the first man, "Then I am security to the poor boy for the -money." "Well, but," says the gentleman, "the rogues have got the 12, -10s.; they ought to reckon that as part of the 30." Had he asked me, -I should have consented to it at first word; but the first man stood -my friend. "Nay," says he, "it was since you knew that the 12, 10s. -was received that you offered 30 for the other bills, and published -it by the crier, and posted it up at the custom-house door, and I -promised him the 30 this morning." They argued long, and I thought -would have quarrelled about it. - -However, at last they both yielded a little, and the gentleman gave me -25 in good guineas. When he gave it me he bade me hold out my hand, -and he told the money into my hand; and when he had done he asked me -if it was right. I said I did not know, but I believed it was. "Why," -says he, "can't you tell it?" I told him no; I never saw so much money -in my life, nor I did not know how to tell money. "Why," says he, -"don't you know that they are guineas?" No, I told him, I did not know -how much a guinea was. - -"Why, then," says he, "did you tell me you believed it was right?" I -told him, because I believed he would not give it me wrong. - -"Poor child," says he, "thou knowest little of the world, indeed. What -art thou?" - -"I am a poor boy," says I, and cried. - -"What is your name?" says he. "But hold, I forgot," said he; "I -promised I would not ask your name, so you need not tell me." - -"My name is Jacque," said I. - -"Why, have you no surname?" said he. - -"What is that?" said I. - -"You have some other name besides Jacque," says he, "han't you?" - -"Yes," says I; "they call me Colonel Jacque." - -"But have you no other name?" - -"No," said I. - -"How came you to be Colonel Jacque, pray?" - -"They say," said I, "my father's name was Colonel." - -"Is your father or mother alive?" said he. - -"No," said I; "my father is dead." - -"Where is your mother, then?" said he. - -"I never had e'er a mother," said I. - -This made him laugh. "What," said he, "had you never a mother? What, -then?" - -"I had a nurse," said I; "but she was not my mother." - -"Well," says he to the gentleman, "I dare say this boy was not the -thief that stole your bills." - -"Indeed, sir, I did not steal them," said I, and cried again. - -"No, no, child," said he, "we don't believe you did. This is a very -clever boy," says he to the other gentleman, "and yet very ignorant -and honest; 'tis pity some care should not be taken of him, and -something done for him. Let us talk a little more with him." So they -sat down and drank wine, and gave me some, and then the first -gentleman talked to me again. - -"Well," says he, "what wilt thou do with this money now thou hast it?" - -"I don't know," said I. - -"Where will you put it?" said he, - -"In my pocket," said I. - -"In your pocket!" said he. "Is your pocket whole? Shan't you lose it?" - -"Yes," said I, "my pocket is whole." - -"And where will you put it when you get home?" - -"I have no home," said I, and cried again. - -"Poor child!" said he. "Then what dost thou do for thy living?" - -"I go of errands," said I, "for the folks in Rosemary Lane." - -"And what dost thou do for a lodging at night?" - -"I lie at the glass-house," said I, "at night." - -"How, lie at the glass-house! Have they any beds there?" says he. - -"I never lay in a bed in my life," said I, "as I remember." - -"Why," says he, "what do you lie on at the glass-house?" - -"The ground," says I; "and sometimes a little straw, or upon the warm -ashes." - -Here the gentleman that lost the bills said, "This poor child is -enough to make a man weep for the miseries of human nature, and be -thankful for himself; he puts tears into my eyes." "And into mine -too," says the other. - -"Well, but hark ye, Jacque," says the first gentleman, "do they give -you no money when they send you of errands?" - -"They give me victuals," said I, "and that's better." - -"But what," says he, "do you do for clothes?" - -"They give me sometimes old things," said I, "such as they have to -spare." - -"Why, you have never a shirt on, I believe," said he, "have you?" - -"No; I never had a shirt," said I, "since my nurse died." - -"How long ago is that?" said he. - -"Six winters, when this is out," said I. - -"Why, how old are you?" said he. - -"I can't tell," said I. - -"Well," says the gentleman, "now you have this money, won't you buy -some clothes and a shirt with some of it?" - -"Yes," said I, "I would buy some clothes." - -"And what will you do with the rest?" - -"I can't tell," said I, and cried. - -"What dost cry for, Jacque?" said he. - -"I am afraid," said I, and cried still. - -"What art afraid of?" - -"They will know I have money." - -"Well, and what then?" - -"Then I must sleep no more in the warm glass house, and I shall be -starved with cold. They will take away my money." - -"But why must you sleep there no more?" - -Here the gentlemen observed to one another how naturally anxiety and -perplexity attend those that have money. "I warrant you," says the -clerk, "when this poor boy had no money he slept all night in the -straw, or on the warm ashes in the glass-house, as soundly and as void -of care as it would be possible for any creature to do; but now, as -soon as he has gotten money, the care of preserving it brings tears -into his eyes and fear into his heart." - -They asked me a great many questions more, to which I answered in my -childish way as well as I could, but so as pleased them well enough. -At last I was going away with a heavy pocket, and I assure you not a -light heart, for I was so frighted with having so much money that I -knew not what in the earth to do with myself. I went away, however, -and walked a little way, but I could not tell what to do; so, after -rambling two hours or thereabout, I went back again, and sat down at -the gentleman's door, and there I cried as long as I had any moisture -in my head to make tears of, but never knocked at the door. - -I had not sat long, I suppose, but somebody belonging to the family -got knowledge of it, and a maid came and talked to me, but I said -little to her, only cried still. At length it came to the gentleman's -ears. As for the merchant, he was gone. When the gentleman heard of me -he called me in, and began to talk with me again, and asked me what I -stayed for. - -I told him I had not stayed there all that while, for I had been gone -a great while, and was come again. - -"Well," says he, "but what did you come again for?" - -"I can't tell," says I. - -"And what do you cry so for?" said he. "I hope you have not lost your -money, have you?" - -No, I told him, I had not lost it yet, but was afraid I should. - -"And does that make you cry?" says he. - -I told him yes, for I knew I should not be able to keep it, but they -would cheat me of it, or they would kill me and take it away from me -too. - -"They?" says he. "Who? What sort of gangs of people art thou with?" - -I told him they were all boys, but very wicked boys; "thieves and -pickpockets," said I, "such as stole this letter-case--a sad pack; I -can't abide them." - -"Well, Jacque," said he, "what shall be done for thee? Will you leave -it with me? Shall I keep it for you?" - -"Yes," said I, "with all my heart, if you please." - -"Come, then," says he, "give it me; and that you may be sure that I -have it, and you shall have it honestly again, I'll give you a bill -for it, and for the interest of it, and that you may keep safe enough. -Nay," added he, "and if you lose it, or anybody takes it from you, -none shall receive the money but your self, or any part of it." - -I presently pulled out all the money, and gave it to him, only keeping -about 15s. for myself to buy some clothes; and thus ended the -conference between us on the first occasion, at least for the first -time. Having thus secured my money to my full satisfaction, I was then -perfectly easy, and accordingly the sad thoughts that afflicted my -mind before began to vanish away. - -This was enough to let any one see how all the sorrows and anxieties -of men's lives come about; how they rise from their restless pushing -at getting of money, and the restless cares of keeping it when they -have got it. I that had nothing, and had not known what it was to have -had anything, knew nothing of the care, either of getting or of -keeping it; I wanted nothing, who wanted everything; I had no care, no -concern about where I should get my victuals or how I should lodge; I -knew not what money was, or what to do with it; and never knew what it -was not to sleep till I had money to keep, and was afraid of losing -it. - -I had, without doubt, an opportunity at this time, if I had not been -too foolish, and too much a child to speak for myself--I had an -opportunity, I say, to have got into the service, or perhaps to be -under some of the care and concern, of these gentlemen; for they -seemed to be very fond of doing some thing for me, and were surprised -at the innocence of my talk to them, as well as at the misery (as they -thought it) of my condition. - -But I acted indeed like a child; and leaving my money, as I have said, -I never went near them for several years after. What course I took, -and what befell me in that interval, has so much variety in it, and -carries so much instruction in it, that it requires an account of it -by itself. - -The first happy chance that offered itself to me in the world was now -over. I had got money, but I neither knew the value of it or the use -of it; the way of living I had begun was so natural to me, I had no -notion of bettering it; I had not so much as any desire of buying me -any clothes--no, not so much as a shirt; and much less had I any -thought of getting any other lodging than in the glass-house, and -loitering about the streets, as I had done; for I knew no good, and -had tasted no evil; that is to say, the life I had led being not evil -in my account. - -In this state of ignorance I returned to my really miserable life; so -it was in itself, and was only not so to me because I did not -understand how to judge of it, and had known no better. - -My comrade that gave me back the bills, and who, if I had not pressed -him, designed never to have restored them, never asked me what I had -given me, but told me if they gave me anything it should be my own; -for, as he said he would not run the venture of being seen in the -restoring them, I deserved the reward if there was any; neither did he -trouble his head with inquiring what I had, or whether I had anything -or no; so my title to what I had got was clear. - -I went now up and down just as I did before. I had money indeed in my -pocket, but I let nobody know it. I went of errands cheerfully as -before, and accepted of what anybody gave me with as much thankfulness -as ever. The only difference that I made with myself was, that if I -was hungry, and nobody employed me, or gave me anything to eat, I -did not beg from door to door, as I did at first, but went to a -boiling-house, as I said once before, and got a mess of broth and a -piece of bread, price a halfpenny; very seldom any meat; or if I -treated myself, it was a halfpennyworth of cheese; all which expense -did not amount to above twopence or three pence a week; for, contrary -to the usage of the rest of the tribe, I was extremely frugal, and I -had not disposed of any of the guineas which I had at first; neither, -as I said to the custom-house gentleman, could I tell what a guinea -was made of, or what it was worth. - -After I had been about a month thus, and had done nothing, my comrade, -as I called him, came to me one morning. "Colonel Jacque," says he, -"when shall you and I take a walk again?" "When you will," said I. -"Have you got no business yet?" says he. "No," says I; and so one -thing bringing on another, he told me I was a fortunate wretch, and he -believed I would be so again, but that he must make a new bargain with -me now; "for," says he, "colonel, the first time we always let a raw -brother come in for full share to encourage him; but afterwards, -except it be when he puts himself forward well and runs equal hazard, -he stands to courtesy; but as we are gentlemen, we always do very -honourably by one another; and if you are willing to trust it or leave -it to me, I shall do handsomely by you, that you may depend upon." I -told him I was not able to do anything, that was certain, for I did -not understand it, and therefore I could not expect to get anything, -but I would do as he bade me; so we walked abroad together. - -We went no more to the custom-house; it was too bold a venture. -Besides, I did not care to show myself again, especially with him in -company. But we went directly to the Exchange, and we hankered about -in Castle Alley, and in Swithin's Alley, and at the coffee-house -doors. It was a very unlucky day, for we got nothing all day but two -or three handkerchiefs, and came home to the old lodgings at the -glass-house; nor had I had anything to eat or drink all day but a -piece of bread which he gave me, and some water at the conduit at the -Exchange Gate. So when he was gone from me, for he did not lie in the -glass-house, as I did, I went to my old broth-house for my usual bait, -and refreshed myself, and the next day early went to meet him again, -as he appointed me. - -Being early in the morning, he took his walk to Billingsgate, where it -seems two sorts of people make a great crowd as soon as it is light, -and at that time a-year rather before daylight; that is to say, crimps -and the masters of coal-ships, whom they call collier-masters; and, -secondly, fishmongers, fish-sellers, and buyers of fish. - -It was the first of these people that he had his eye upon. So he gives -me my orders, which was thus: "Go you," says he, "into all the -alehouses as we go along, and observe where any people are telling of -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 they call it, so they generally -receive their money in those alehouses; 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 I brought -him word that there was a man in such a house who had received a great -deal of money of somebody, 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?" says he; "I'll -warrant him I will have some of it;" and in he goes. He walks up and -down the house, which had several open tables and boxes in it, and he -listened to hear, if he could, what the man's name was; and he heard -somebody call him Cullum, or some such name. Then he watches his -opportunity, and steps up to him, and tells him a long story, that -there was two gentlemen at the Gun tavern sent him to inquire for him, -and to tell him they desired to speak with him. - -The collier-master had his money lay 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 lay by themselves; and as it was -hardly broad day, he found means in delivering his message to lay his -hands upon one of those bags, and carry it off perfectly undiscovered. - -When we had got it he came out to me, who stood but at the door, and -pulling me by the sleeve, "Run, Jacque," says he, "for our lives;" and -away he scours, and I after him, never resting, or scarce looking -about me, till we got quite up into Fenchurch Street, through Lime -Street into Leadenhall Street, down St. Mary Axe to London Wall, then -through Bishopsgate Street and down Old Bedlam into Moorfields. By -this time we were neither of us able to run very fast; nor need we -have gone so far, for I never found that anybody pursued us. When we -got into Moorfields and began to take breath, I asked him what it was -frighted him so. "Fright me, you fool!" says he; "I have got a -devilish great bag of money." "A bag!" said I. "Ay, ay," said he; "let -us get out into the fields where nobody can see us, and I'll show it -you." So away he had me through Long Alley, and cross Hog Lane and -Holloway Lane, into the middle of the great field, which since that -has been called the Farthing Pie-House Fields. There we would have sat -down, but it was all full of water; so we went on, crossed the road at -Anniseed Cleer, and went into the field where now the great hospital -stands; and finding a by-place, we sat down, and he pulls out the bag. -"Thou art a lucky boy, Jacque," says he; "thou deservest a good share -of this job, truly; for it is all along of thy lucky news." So he -pours it all out into my hat; for, as I told you, I now wore a hat. - -How he did to whip away such a bag of money from any man that was -awake and in his senses I cannot tell; but there was a great deal in -it, and among it a paperful by itself. When the paper dropped out of -the bag, "Hold," says he, "that is gold!" and began to crow and hollow -like a mad boy. But there he was baulked; for it was a paper of old -thirteenpence-halfpenny pieces, half and quarter pieces, with -ninepences and fourpence-halfpennies--all old crooked money, Scotch -and Irish coin; so he was disappointed in that. But as it was there -was about 17 or 18 in the bag, as I understood by him; for I could -not tell money, not I. - -Well, he parted this money into three; that is to say, into three -shares--two for himself and one for me, and asked if I was content. I -told him yes, I had reason to be contented. Besides, it was so much -money added to that I had left of his former adventure that I knew not -what to do with it, or with myself, while I had so much about me. - -This was a most exquisite fellow for a thief; for he had the greatest -dexterity at conveying anything away that he scarce ever pitched upon -anything in his eye but he carried it off with his hands, and never -that I know of missed his aim or was caught in the fact. - -He was an eminent pickpocket, and very dexterous at ladies' gold -watches; but he generally pushed higher at such desperate things as -these; and he came off the cleanest and with the greatest success -imaginable; and it was in these kinds of the wicked art of thieving -that I became his scholar. - -As we were now so rich, he would not let me lie any longer in the -glass-house, or go naked and ragged as I had done, but obliged me to -buy two shirts, a waistcoat, and a greatcoat; for a greatcoat was more -for our purpose in the business we was upon than any other. So I -clothed myself as he directed, and he took me a lodging in the same -house with him, and we lodged together in a little garret fit for our -quality. - -Soon after this we walked out again, and then we tried our fortune in -the places by the Exchange a second time. Here we began to act -separately, and I undertook to walk by myself; and the first thing I -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 slipt it into his coat-pocket -again, and then out it came again, and papers were taken out and -others were 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, he might be said to throw it in rather than put it in -with his hand, and the book lay end-way, 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. - -This careless way of men putting their pocket-books into a -coat-pocket, which is so easily dived into by the least boy that has -been used to the trade, can never be too much blamed. The gentlemen -are in great hurries, their heads and thoughts entirely taken up, and -it is impossible they should be guarded enough against such little -hawk's-eyed creatures as we were; and, therefore, they ought either -never to put their pocket-books up at all, or to put them up more -secure, or to put nothing of value into them. I happened to be just -opposite to this gentleman in that they call Swithin's Alley, or that -alley rather which is between Swithin's Alley and the Exchange, just -by a passage that goes out of the alley into the Exchange, when, -seeing the book pass and repass into the pocket and out of the pocket -as above, it came immediately into my head, certainly I might get that -pocket-book out if I were nimble, and I warrant Will would have it, if -he saw it go and come to and again as I did. But when I saw it hang by -the way, as I have said, "Now it is mine," said I to myself, and, -crossing the alley, I brushed smoothly but closely by the man, with my -hand down flat to my own side, and, taking hold of it by the corner -that appeared, the book came so light into my hand, it was impossible -the gentleman should feel the least motion, or anybody else see me -take it away. I went directly forward into the broad place on the -north side of the Exchange, then scoured down Bartholomew Lane, so -into Tokenhouse Yard, into the alleys which pass through from thence -to London Wall, so through Moorgate, and sat down on the grass in the -second of the quarters of Moorfields, towards the middle field; which -was the place that Will and I had appointed to meet at if either of us -got any booty. When I came thither Will was not come; but I saw him -coming in about half-an-hour. - -As soon as Will came to me I asked him what booty he had gotten. He -looked pale, and, as I thought, frighted; but he returned, "I have got -nothing, not I; but, you lucky young dog," says he, "what have you -got? Have not you got the gentleman's pocket-book in Swithin's Alley?" -"Yes," says I, and laughed at him; "why, how did you know it?" "Know -it!" says he. "Why, the gentleman is raving and half distracted; he -stamps and cries and tears his very clothes. He says he is utterly -undone and ruined, and the folks in the alley say there is I know not -how many thousand pounds in it. What can be in it?" says Will. "Come, -let us see." - -Well, we lay close in the grass in the middle of the quarter, so that -nobody minded us; and so we opened the pocket-book, and there was a -great many bills and notes under men's hands; some goldsmiths', and -some belonging to insurance offices, as they call them, and the like. -But that which was, it seems, worth all the rest was that, in one of -the folds of the cover of the book, where there was a case with -several partitions, there was a paper full of loose diamonds. The man, -as we understood afterward, was a Jew, who dealt in such goods, and -who indeed ought to have taken more care of the keeping of them. - -Now was this booty too great, even for Will himself, to manage; for -though by this time I was come to understand things better than I did -formerly, when I knew not what belonged to money, yet Will was better -skilled by far in those things than I. But this puzzled him too, as -well as me. Now were we something like the cock in the fable; for all -these bills, and I think there was one bill of Sir Henry Furness's for -1200, and all these diamonds, which were worth about 150, as they -said--I say, all these things were of no value to us: one little purse -of gold would have been better to us than all of it. "But come," says -Will, "let us look over the bills for a little one." - -We looked over all the bills, and among them we found a bill under a -man's hand for 32. "Come," says Will, "let us go and inquire where -this man lives." So he went into the City again, and Will went to the -post-house, and asked there. They told him he lived at Temple Bar. -"Well," says Will, "I will venture. I'll go and receive the money; it -may be he has not remembered to send to stop the payment there." - -But it came into his thoughts to take another course. "Come," says -Will, "I'll go back to the alley, and see if I can hear anything of -what has happened, for I believe the hurry is not over yet." It seems -the man who lost the book was carried into the King's Head tavern at -the end of that alley, and a great crowd was about the door. - -Away goes Will, and watches and waits about the place; and then, -seeing several people together, for they were not all dispersed, he -asks one or two what was the matter. They tell him a long story of a -gentleman who had lost his pocket-book, with a great bag of diamonds -in it, and bills for a great many thousand pounds, and I know not -what; and that they had been just crying it, and had offered 100 -reward to any one who would discover and restore it. - -"I wish," said he to one of them that parleyed with him, "I did but -know who has it; I don't doubt but I could help him to it again. Does -he remember nothing of anybody, boy or fellow, that was near him? If -he could but describe him, it might do." Somebody that overheard him -was so forward to assist the poor gentleman that they went up and let -him know what a young fellow, meaning Will, had been talking at the -door; and down comes another gentleman from him, and, taking Will -aside, asked him what he had said about it. Will was a grave sort of a -young man, that, though he was an old soldier at the trade, had yet -nothing of it in his countenance; and he answered that he was -concerned in business where a great many of the gangs of little -pickpockets haunted, and if he had but the least description of the -person they suspected, he durst say he could find him out, and might -perhaps get the things again for him. Upon this he desired him to go -up with him to the gentleman, which he did accordingly; and there, he -said, he sat leaning his head back to the chair, pale as a cloth, -disconsolate to a strange degree, and, as Will described him, just -like one under a sentence. - -When they came to ask him whether he had seen no boy or shabby fellow -lurking near where he stood, or passing, or repassing, and the like, -he answered, "No, not any." Neither could he remember that anybody had -come near him. "Then," said Will, "it will be very hard, if not -impossible, to find them out. However," said Will, "if you think it -worth while, I will put myself among those rogues, though," says he, -"I care not for being seen among them. But I will put in among them, -and if it be in any of those gangs, it is ten to one but I shall hear -something of it." - -They asked him then if he had heard what terms the gentleman had -offered to have it restored; he answered, "No" (though he had been -told at the door). They answered, he had offered 100. "That is too -much," says Will; "but if you please to leave it to me, I shall either -get it for you for less than that, or not be able to get it for you at -all." Then the losing gentleman said to one of the other, "Tell him -that if he can get it lower, the overplus shall be to himself." -William said he would be very glad to do the gentleman such a service, -and would leave the reward to himself. "Well, young man," says one of -the gentlemen, "whatever you appoint to the young artist that has done -this roguery (for I warrant he is an artist, let it be who it will), -he shall be paid, if it be within the 100, and the gentleman is -willing to give you 50 besides for your pains." - -"Truly, sir," says Will very gravely, "it was by mere chance that, -coming by the door, and seeing the crowd, I asked what the matter was. -But if I should be instrumental to get the unfortunate gentleman his -pocket-book and the things in it again, I shall be very glad; nor am I -so rich neither, sir, but 50 is very well worth my while too." Then -he took directions who to come to, and who to give his account to if -he learned anything, and the like. - -Will stayed so long that, as he and I agreed, I went home, and he did -not come to me till night; for we had considered before that it would -not be proper to come from them directly to me, lest they should -follow him and apprehend me. If he had made no advances towards a -treaty, he would have come back in half-an-hour, as we agreed; but -staying late, we met at our night rendezvous, which was in Rosemary -Lane. - -When he came he gave an account of all the discourse, and particularly -what a consternation the gentleman was in who lost the pocket-book, -and that he did not doubt but we should get a good round sum for the -recovery of it. - -We consulted all the evening about it, and concluded he should let -them hear nothing of them the next day at all; and that the third day -he should go, but should make no discovery; only that he had got a -scent of it, and that he believed he should have it, and make it -appear as difficult as possible, and to start as many objections as he -could. Accordingly, the third day after he met with the gentleman, -who, he found, had been uneasy at his long stay, and told him they -were afraid that he only flattered them to get from them, and that -they had been too easy in letting him go without a further -examination. - -He took upon him to be very grave with them, and told them that if -that was what he was like to have for being so free as to tell them he -thought he might serve them, they might see that they had wronged him, -and were mistaken by his coming again to them; that if they thought -they could do any thing by examining him, they might go about it, if -they pleased, now; that all he had to say to them was, that he knew -where some of the young rogues haunted who were famous for such -things; and that by some inquiries, offering them money, and the like, -he believed they would be brought to betray one another, and that so -he might pick it out for them; and this he would say before a justice -of peace, if they thought fit; and then all that he had to say further -to them was to tell them he had lost a day or two in their service, -and had got nothing but to be suspected for his pains, and that after -that he had done, and they might seek their goods where they could -find them. - -They began to listen a little upon that, and asked him if he could -give them any hopes of recovering their loss. He told them that he was -not afraid to tell them that he believed he had heard some news of -them, and that what he had done had prevented all the bills being -burnt, book and all; but that now he ought not to be asked any more -questions till they should be pleased to answer him a question or two. -They told him they would give him any satisfaction they could, and bid -him tell what he desired. - -"Why, sir," says he, "how can you expect any thief that had robbed you -to such a considerable value as this would come and put himself into -your hands, confess he had your goods, and restore them to you, if you -do not give them assurance that you will not only give them the reward -you agreed to, but also give assurance that they shall not be stopped, -questioned, or called to account before a magistrate?" - -They said they would give all possible assurance of it. "Nay," says -he, "I do not know what assurance you are able to give; for when a -poor fellow is in your clutches and has shown you your goods, you may -seize upon him for a thief, and it is plain he must be so. Then you -go, take away your goods, send him to prison, and what amends can he -have of you afterward?" - -They were entirely confounded with the difficulty; they asked him to -try if he could get the things into his hands, and they would pay him -the money before he let them go out of his hand, and he should go away -half-an-hour before they went out of the room. - -"No, gentlemen," says he, "that won't do now. If you had talked so -before you had talked of apprehending me for nothing, I should have -taken your words; but now it is plain you have had such a thought in -your heads, and how can I, or any one else, be assured of safety?" - -Well, they thought of a great many particulars, but nothing would do. -At length the other people who were present put in, that they should -give security to him, by a bond of 1000, that they would not give the -person any trouble whatsoever. He pretended they could not be bound, -nor could their obligation be of any value, and that their own goods -being once seen, they might seize them. "And what would it signify," -said he, "to put a poor pick pocket to sue for his reward?" They could -not tell what to say, but told him that he should take the things of -the boy, if it was a boy, and they would be bound to pay him the money -promised. He laughed at them, and said, "No, gentlemen; as I am not -the thief, so I shall be very loth to put myself in the thief's stead -and lie at your mercy." - -They told him they knew not what to do then, and that it would be very -hard he would not trust them at all. He said he was very willing to -trust them and to serve them, but that it would be very hard to be -ruined and charged with the theft for endeavouring to serve them. - -They then offered to give it him under their hands that they did not -in the least suspect him; that they would never charge him with -anything about it; that they acknowledged he went about to inquire -after the goods at their request; and that if he produced them, they -would pay him so much money, at or before the delivery of them, -without obliging him to name or produce that person he had them from. - -Upon this writing, signed by three gentlemen who were present, and by -the person in particular who lost the things, the young gentleman told -them he would go and do his utmost to get the pocket-book and all that -was in it. - -Then he desired that they would in writing, beforehand, give him a -particular of all the several things that were in the book, that he -might not have it said, when he produced it, that there was not all; -and he would have the said writing sealed up, and he would make the -book be sealed up when it was given to him. This they agreed to; and -the gentleman accordingly drew up a particular of all the bills that -he remembered, as he said, was in the book, and also of the diamonds, -as follows:-- - -One bill under Sir Henry Furness's hand for 1200. - -One bill under Sir Charles Duncomb's hand for 800, 250 endorsed off -= 550. - -One bill under the hand of J. Tassel, goldsmith, 165. - -One bill of Sir Francis Child, 39. - -One bill of one Stewart, that kept a wager-office and insurance, 350. - -A paper containing thirty-seven loose diamonds, value about 250. - -A little paper containing three large rough diamonds, and one large -one polished and cut, value 185. - -For all these things they promised, first, to give him whatever he -agreed with the thief to give him, not exceeding 50, and to give him -50 more for himself for procuring them. - -Now he had his cue, and now he came to me, and told me honestly the -whole story as above. So I delivered him the book, and he told me that -he thought it was reasonable we should not take the full sum, because -he would seem to have done them some service, and so make them the -easier. All this I agreed to; so he went the next day to the place, -and the gentlemen met him very punctually. - -He told them at the first word he had done their work, and, as he -hoped, to their mind; and told them, if it had not been for the -diamonds, he could have got all for 10; but that the diamonds had -shone so bright in the boy's imagination that he talked of running -away to France or Holland, and living there all his days like a -gentleman; at which they laughed. "However, gentlemen," said he, "here -is the book;" and so pulled it out, wrapt up in a dirty piece of a -coloured handkerchief, as black as the street could make it, and -sealed with a piece of sorry wax, and the impression of a farthing for -a seal. - -Upon this, the note being also unsealed, at the same time he pulled -open the dirty rag, and showed the gentleman his pocket-book; at which -he was so over-surprised with joy, notwithstanding all the preparatory -discourse, that he was fain to call for a glass of wine or brandy to -drink, to keep him from fainting. - -The book being opened, the paper of diamonds was first taken out, and -there they were every one; only the little paper was by itself; and -the rough diamonds that were in it were loose among the rest, but he -owned they were all there safe. - -Then the bills were called over one by one, and they found one bill -for 80 more than the account mentioned, besides several papers which -were not for money, though of consequence to the gentleman; and he -acknowledged that all was very honestly returned. "And now, young -man," said they, "you shall see we will deal as honestly by you;" and -so, in the first place, they gave him 50 for himself, and then they -told out the 50 for me. - -He took the 50 for himself, and put it up in his pocket, wrapping it -in paper, it being all in gold; then he began to tell over the other -50. But when he had told out 30, "Hold, gentlemen," said he, "as I -have acted fairly for you, so you shall have no reason to say I do not -do so to the end. I have taken 30, and for so much I agreed with the -boy; and so there is 20 of your money again." - -They stood looking one at another a good while, as surprised at the -honesty of it; for till that time they were not quite without a secret -suspicion that he was the thief; but that piece of policy cleared up -his reputation to them. The gentleman that had got his bills said -softly to one of them, "Give it him all." But the other said (softly -too), "No, no; as long as he has got it abated, and is satisfied with -the 50 you have given him, 'tis very well; let it go as it 'tis." -This was not spoke so softly but he heard it, and said, "No," too; "I -am very well satisfied; I am glad I have got them for you;" and so -they began to part. - -But just before they were going away one of the gentlemen said to him, -"Young man, come, you see we are just to you, and have done fairly, as -you have also; and we will not desire you to tell us who this cunning -fellow is that got such a prize from this gentleman; but as you have -talked with him, prithee, can you tell us nothing of how he did it, -that we may beware of such sparks again?" - -"Sir," says Will, "when I shall tell you what they say, and how the -particular case stood, the gentleman would blame himself more than -anybody else, or as much at least. The young rogue that catched this -prize was out, it seems, with a comrade, who is a nimble, experienced -pickpocket as most in London; but at that time the artist was -somewhere at a distance, and this boy never had picked a pocket in his -life before; but he says he stood over against the passage into the -Exchange, on the east side, and the gentleman stood just by the -passage; that he was very earnest in talking with some other -gentleman, and often pulled out this book and opened it, and took -papers out and put others in, and returned it into his coat-pocket; -that the last time it hitched at the pocket-hole, or stopt at -something that was in the pocket, and hung a little out, which the -boy, who had watched it a good while perceiving, he passes by close to -the gentleman, and carried it smoothly off, without the gentleman's -perceiving it at all." - -He went on, and said, "'Tis very strange gentlemen should put -pocket-books which have such things in them into those loose pockets, -and in so careless a manner." "That's very true," says the gentleman; -and so, with some other discourse of no great signification, he came -away to me. - -We were now so rich that we scarce knew what to do with our money; at -least I did not, for I had no relations, no friends, nowhere to put -anything I had but in my pocket. As for Will, he had a poor mother, -but wicked as himself, and he made her rich and glad with his good -success. - -We divided this booty equally; for though the gaining it was mine, yet -the improving of it was his, and his management brought the money; for -neither he or I could have made anything proportionable of the thing -any other way. As for the bills, there was no room to doubt but unless -they had been carried that minute to the goldsmith's for the money, he -would have come with notice to stop the payment, and perhaps have come -while the money was receiving, and have taken hold of the person. And -then as to the diamonds, there had been no offering them to sale by us -poor boys to anybody but those who were our known receivers, and they -would have given us nothing for them compared to what they were worth; -for, as I understood afterwards, those who made a trade of buying -stolen goods took care to have false weights, and cheat the poor devil -that stole them at least an ounce in three. - -Upon the whole, we made the best of it many ways besides. I had a -strange kind of uninstructed conscience at that time; for though I -made no scruple of getting anything in this manner from anybody, yet I -could not bear destroying their bills and papers, which were things -that would do them a great deal of hurt, and do me no good; and I was -so tormented about it that I could not rest night or day while I made -the people easy from whom the things were taken. - -I was now rich, so rich that I knew not what to do with my money or -with myself. I had lived so near and so close, that although, as I -said, I did now and then lay out twopence or threepence for mere -hunger, yet I had so many people who, as I said, employed me, and who -gave me victuals and sometimes clothes, that in a whole year I had not -quite spent the 15s. which I had saved of the custom-house gentleman's -money; and I had the four guineas which was of the first booty before -that still in my pocket--I mean the money that I let fall into the -tree. - -But now I began to look higher; and though Will and I went abroad -several times together, yet, when small things offered, as -handkerchiefs and such trifles, we would not meddle with them, not -caring to run the risk for small matters. It fell out one day that, as -we were strolling about in West Smithfield on a Friday, there happened -to be an ancient country gentleman 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 Suffolk. His -worship, for so they called him, had received the money for these -bullocks at a tavern, whose sign I forget 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 stands to cough, resting his hand with the bag of money -in it upon the 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. Says Will to me, "Stand ready." Upon this he -makes an artificial stumble, and falls 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 gave it a quick snatch, pulled it clean away, and ran like -the wind down the Cloisters with it; turned on the left hand, as soon -as I was through, and cut into Little Britain, so into Bartholomew -Close, then across Aldersgate Street, through Paul's Alley into -Redcross Street, and so across all the streets, through innumerable -alleys, and never stopped till I got into the second quarter of -Moorfields, our old agreed rendezvous. - -Will, in the meantime, fell down with the old gentleman, but soon got -up. The old knight, for such, it seems, he was, was frighted with the -fall, and his breath so stopped with his cough that he could not -recover himself to speak till some 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 anything for a good while; but, coughing -vehemently and looking red, till he was almost black in the face, he -cried, "The ro--hegh, hegh, hegh--the rogues--hegh--have got--hegh, -hegh, hegh, hegh, hegh, hegh;" then he would get a little breath, and -at it again: "The rogues--hegh, hegh;" and, after a great many heghs -and rogues, he brought it out--"have got away my bag of money!" - -All this 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 in the -grass again, and turned out the money, which proved to be eight -guineas, and 5, 12s. in silver, so that it made just 14 together. -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, nor so much as anything offered itself -for an attempt. - -We took many walks of this kind, sometimes together, at a little -distance from one another, and several small hits we made; but we were -so flushed with our success that truly we were above meddling with -trifles, as I said before--no, not such things that others would have -been glad of; nothing but pocket-books, letter-cases, or sums of money -would move us. - -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 -afterward, 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 comes to a goldsmith's shop in Lombard Street -with it; paid in the most of it there; insomuch that it grew dark, and -the goldsmith began to be shutting in shop, and candles to be lighted. -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 -still some time longer, to take notes, as I supposed, for what he had -paid; and by this time it was still darker than before. At last he -comes out of the shop, with still a pretty large bag under his arm, -and walks over into the court, which was then very dark. In the middle -of the court is a boarded entry, and farther, 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," says Will to me; "be nimble;" and as soon as he had said so -he flies at the young man, and gives him such a violent thrust that -pushed him forward with too great a force for him to stand; and as he -strove to recover, the threshold took his feet, and he fell forward -into the other part of the court, as if he had flown in the air, with -his head lying towards the Quakers' meeting-house. I stood ready, and -presently felt out the bag of money, which I heard fall; for it flew -out of his hand, he having his life to save, not his money. I went -forward with the money, and Will, that threw him down, finding I had -it, run backward, and as I made along Fenchurch Street, Will overtook -me, and we scoured home together. The poor young man was hurt a little -with the fall, and reported to his master, as we heard afterward, that -he was knocked down, which was not true, for neither Will or I had any -stick in our hands; but the master of the youth was, it seems, so very -thankful that his young man was not knocked down before he paid the -rest of the money (which was above 100 more) to the goldsmith, who -was Sir John Sweetapple, that he made no great noise at the loss he -had, and, as we heard afterward, only warned his apprentice to be more -careful and come no more through such places in the dark; whereas the -man had really no such deliverance as he imagined, for we saw him -before, when he had all the money about him; but it was no time of day -for such work as we had to do, so that he was in no danger before. - -This booty amounted to 29, 16s., which was 14 18s. apiece, and added -exceedingly to my store, which began now to be very much too big for -my management; and indeed I began to be now full of care for the -preservation of what I had got. I wanted a trusty friend to commit it -to; but where was such a one to be found by a poor boy bred up among -thieves? If I should have let any honest body know that I had so much -money, they would have asked me how I came by it, and would have been -afraid to take it into their hands, lest I being some time or other -catched in my rogueries, they should be counted the receivers of -stolen goods and the encouragers of a thief. - -We had, however, in the meantime a great many other successful -enterprises, some of one kind, some of another, and were never so much -as in danger of being apprehended; but my companion Will, who was now -grown a man, and encouraged by these advantages, fell into quite -another vein of wickedness, getting acquainted with a wretched gang of -fellows that turned their hands to everything that was vile. - -Will was a lusty, strong fellow, and withal very bold and daring, -would fight anybody and venture upon anything; and I found he began to -be above the mean rank of a poor pickpocket, so I saw him but seldom. -However, once coming to me in a very friendly manner, and asking me -how I went on, I told him that I used the old trade still, that I had -had two or three good jobs: one with a young woman, whose pocket I had -picked of eleven guineas; and another, a countrywoman, just come out -of a stage-coach, seeing her pull out her bag to pay the coachman; and -that I followed her till I got an opportunity, and slipped it out so -neatly that though there was 8, 17s. in it, yet she never felt it go. -And several other jobs I told him of, by which I made pretty good -purchase. "I always said you were a lucky boy, Colonel Jacque," says -he; "but, come, you are grown almost a man now, and you shall not be -always at play at push-pin. I am got into better business, I assure -you, and you shall come into it too. I'll bring you into a brave gang, -Jacque," says he, "where you shall see we shall be all gentlemen." - -Then he told me the trade itself, in short, which was with a set of -fellows that had two of the most desperate works upon their hands that -belonged to the whole art of thieving; that is to say, in the evening -they were footpads, and in the night they were housebreakers. Will -told me so many plausible stories, and talked of such great things, -that, in short, I, who had been always used to do anything he bid me -do, went with him without any hesitation. - -Nothing is more certain than that hitherto, being partly from the -gross ignorance of my untaught childhood, as I observed before, partly -from the hardness and wickedness of the company I kept; and add to -these that it was the business I might be said to be brought up to--I -had, I say, all the way hitherto, no manner of thoughts about the good -or evil of what I was embarked in; consequently I had no sense of -conscience, no reproaches upon my mind for having done amiss. - -Yet I had something in me, by what secret influence I knew not, kept -me from the other degrees of raking and vice, and, in short, from the -general wickedness of the rest of my companions. For example, I never -used any ill words, nobody ever heard me swear, nor was I given to -drink, or to love strong drink; and I cannot omit a circumstance that -very much served to prevent it. I had a strange original notion, as I -have mentioned in its place, of my being a gentleman; and several -things had casually happened in my way to increase this fancy of mine. -It happened one day, that being in the Glass-house Yard, between -Rosemary Lane and Ratcliff Highway, there came a man dressed very -well, and with a coach attending him, and he came (as I suppose) to -buy glass-bottles, or some other goods, as they sold; and in -bargaining for his goods, he swore most horrid oaths at every two or -three words. At length the master of the glass-house, an ancient, -grave gentleman, took the liberty to reprove him, which at first made -him swear the worse. After a while the gentleman was a little calmer, -but still he swore very much, though not so bad as at first. After -some time the master of the glass-house turned from him--"Really, -sir," says the good old gentleman, "you swear so, and take God's name -in vain so, that I cannot bear to stay with you. I would rather you -would let my goods alone and go somewhere else. I hope you won't take -it ill, but I don't desire to deal with anybody that does so. I am -afraid my glass-house should fall on your head while you stay in it." - -The gentleman grew good-humoured at the reproof, and said, "Well, -come, don't go away; I won't swear any more," says he, "if I can help -it; for I own," says he, "I should not do it." - -With that the old gentleman looked up at him, and, returning, "Really, -sir," says he, "'tis pity you, that seem to be a fine gentleman, -well-bred and good-humoured, should accustom yourself to such a -hateful practice. Why, 'tis not like a gentleman to swear; 'tis enough -for my black wretches that work there at the furnace, or for these -ragged, naked, blackguard boys," pointing at me, and some others of -the dirty crew that lay in the ashes. "'Tis bad enough for them," says -he, "and they ought to be corrected for it, too; but for a man of -breeding, sir," says he, "a gentleman, it ought to be looked upon as -below them. Gentlemen know better, and are taught better, and it is -plain you know better. I beseech you, sir, when you are tempted to -swear, always ask yourself, 'Is this like a gentleman? Does this -become me as a gentleman?' Do but ask yourself that question, and your -reason will prevail--you will soon leave it off." - -I heard all this, and it made the blood run chill in my veins when he -said swearing was only fit for such as we were. In short, it made as -great an impression upon me as it did upon the gentleman; and yet he -took it very kindly too, and thanked the old gentleman for his advice. -But from that time forward I never had the least inclination to -swearing or ill words, and abhorred it when I heard other boys do it. -As to drinking, I had no opportunity; for I had nothing to drink but -water, or small-beer that anybody gave me in charity, for they seldom -gave away strong beer; and after I had money, I neither desired strong -beer or cared to part with my money to buy it. - -Then as to principle, 'tis true I had no foundation laid in me by -education; and being early led by my fate into evil, I had the less -sense of its being evil left upon my mind. But when I began to grow to -an age of understanding, and to know that I was a thief, growing up in -all manner of villainy, and ripening apace for the gallows, it came -often into my thoughts that I was going wrong, that I was in the -high-road to the devil; and several times I would stop short, and ask -myself if this was the life of a gentleman. - -But these little things wore off again as often as they came on, and I -followed the old trade again, especially when Will came to prompt me, -as I have observed, for he was a kind of a guide to me in all these -things; and I had, by custom and application, together with seeing his -way, learned to be as acute a workman as my master. - -But to go back where I left off. Will came to me, as I have said, and -telling me how much better business he was fallen into, would have me -go along with him, and I should be a gentleman. Will, it seems, -understood that word in a quite different manner from me; for his -gentleman was nothing more or less than a gentleman thief, a villain -of a higher degree than a pickpocket, and one that might do something -more wicked, and better entitling him to the gallows, than could be -done in our way. But my gentleman that I had my eye upon was another -thing quite, though I could not really tell how to describe it either. - -However, the word took with me, and I went with him. We were neither -of us old. Will was about twenty-four; and as for me, I was now about -eighteen, and pretty tall of my age. - -The first time I went with him, he brought me into the company only 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 toward a -place called Pindar of Wakefield, where are abundance of brick-kilns. -Here it was agreed to spread from the field-path to the roadway, all -the way towards Pancras Church, to observe any chance game, as they -called it, which 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. 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 steps up to the gentleman, stops 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 in 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 -that moment, while this was doing, comes a hackney-coach along the -road, and the fourth man, who was that way, cries, "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 considerable patient, and, I suppose, had had considerable -fees. For here they got two good 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 most of it 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 over on that side. -Then he carried him a little out of the way, 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 11s. 6d. in his pocket, which Will took, and came back -to the rest; but while they were together, I, who was on the side of -the Pindar of Wakefield, cried, "Mark, ho!" too. - -What I saw was a couple of poor women, one a kind of a nurse, and the -other a maid-servant, going for Kentish Town. As Will knew that 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." I went up to -them, and speaking to the elderly woman, "Nurse," said I, "don't be -in such haste. I want to speak with you;" at which they both stopped, -and looked a little frighted. "Don't be frighted, sweetheart," said I -to the maid; "a little of that money in the bottom of your pocket will -make all easy, and I will do you no harm." By this time Will came up -to us, for they did not see him before; then they began to scream out. -"Hold!" says 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 5s. 6d., and the old woman a guinea and a shilling, crying -heartily for her money, and said it was all she had left in the world. -Well, we took it for all that, though it made my very heart bleed to -see what agony the poor woman was in at parting with it, and I asked -her where she lived. She said her name was Smith, and she lived at -Kentish Town. I said nothing to her, but bid them go on about their -business, and I gave Will the money. So in a few minutes we were all -together again. Says one of the other rogues, "Come, this is well -enough for one road; it's time to be gone." So we jogged away, -crossing the fields, out of the path towards Tottenham Court. "But -hold!" says Will; "I must go and untie the man." "D--n him," says one -of them, "let him lie." "No," says Will, "I won't 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 to call twice for him aloud. - -This made us hasten away the faster, and getting into Tottenham Court -Road, they thought it was a little too near, so they made into the -town at St. Giles's, and crossing to Piccadilly, went to Hyde Park -gate. Here they ventured to rob another coach; that is 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 whore that he -had picked up, it seems, at the Spring Garden, a little farther. They -took the gentleman's money, his watch, and his silver-hilted sword; -but when they come to the slut, she damned and cursed them for robbing -the gentleman of his money and leaving him 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 left that road too, and went over the -fields to Chelsea. In the way from Westminster to Chelsea we met three -gentlemen, but they were too strong for us to meddle with. They had -been afraid to come over the fields so late (for by this time it was -eight o'clock, and though the moon gave some light, yet it was too -late and too dark to be safe); so they hired three men at Chelsea, two -with pitchforks, and the third, a waterman, with a boathook staff to -guard them. We would have steered clear of them, and cared not to have -them see us, if we could help it. But they did see us, and cried, "Who -comes there?" We answered, "Friends;" and so they went on, to our -great satisfaction. - -When we came to Chelsea, it seems we had other work to do, which I had -not been made privy to; and this was a house to be robbed. They had -some intelligence, it seems, with a servant in the house, who was of -their gang. This rogue was a waiting-man, or footman, and he had a -watchword to let them in by; but this fellow, not for want of being a -villain, but by getting drunk and not minding his part of the work, -disappointed us. For he had promised to rise at two o'clock in the -morning and let us all in; but, being very drunk, and not come in at -eleven o'clock, his master ordered him to be shut out and the doors -locked up, and charged the other servants not to let him in upon any -terms whatsoever. - -We came about the house at one o'clock to make our observations, -intending to go and lie under Beaufort House wall till the clock -struck two, and then to come again; but, behold! when we came to the -house, there lay the fellow at the door fast asleep, and very drunk. -Will, who, I found, was the leader in all these things, waked the -fellow, who, as he had had about two hours' sleep, was a little come -to himself, and told them the misfortune, as he called it, and that he -could not get in. They had some instruments about them, by which they -could have broken in by force; but Will considered that as it was but -waiting till another time, and they should be let in quietly, they -resolved to give it over for that time. - -But this was a happy drunken bout for the family; for the fellow -having let fall some words in his drink (for he was a saucy one as -well as a drunken one, and talked oddly), as that it had been better -they had let him in, and he would make them pay dear for it, or some -such thing, the master hearing of it, turned him away in the morning, -and never let him come into his house again. So, I say, it was a happy -drunkenness to the family, for it saved them from being robbed, and -perhaps murdered; for they were a cursed, bloody crew, and, as I -found, were about thirteen of them in all, whereof three of them made -it their business to get into gentlemen's services, and so to open -doors in the night, and let the other rogues in upon them to rob and -destroy them. - -I rambled this whole night with them. They went from Chelsea, being -disappointed there as above, to Kensington. There they broke into a -brewhouse and washhouse, and by that means into an out-kitchen of a -gentleman's house, where they unhanged a small copper, and brought it -off, and stole about a hundredweight of pewter, and went clear off -with that too. And every one going their own by-ways, they found means -to get safe to their several receptacles where they used to dispose of -such things. - -We lay still the next day, and shared the effects stolen that night, -of which my share came to 8, 19s. The copper and pewter being -weighed, and cast up, a person was at hand to take it as money, at -about half value, and in the afternoon Will and I came away together. -Will was mighty full of the success we had had, and how we might be -sure of the like this way every day. But he observed that I did not -seem so elevated at the success of that night's ramble as I used to -be, and also that I did not take any great notice of the expectations -he was in of what was to come. Yet I had said little to him at that -time. - -But my heart was full of the poor woman's case at Kentish Town, and I -resolved, if possible, to find her out and give her her money. With -the abhorrence that filled my mind at the cruelty of that act, there -necessarily followed a little distaste for the thing itself; and now -it came into my head with a double force that this was the high road -to the devil, and that certainly this was not the life of a gentleman. - -Will and I parted for that time; but next morning we met again, and -Will was mighty brisk and merry. "And now, Colonel Jacque," says he, -"we shall be rich very quickly." "Well," says I, "and what shall we do -when we are rich?" "Do!" says he; "we will buy a couple of good -horses, and go farther afield." - -"What do you mean by farther afield?" says I. "Why," says he, "we will -take the highway like gentlemen, and then we shall get a great deal of -money indeed." "Well," says I, "what then?" "Why, then," says he, "we -shall live like gentlemen." - -"But, Will," says I, "if we get a great deal of money, shan't we leave -this trade off, and sit down, and be safe and quiet?" - -"Ay," says Will; "when we have got a great estate, we shall be willing -to lay it down." "But where," says I, "shall we be before that time -comes, if we should drive on this cursed kind of trade?" - -"Prithee never think of that," says Will; "if you think of those -things, you will never be fit to be a gentleman." He touched me there -indeed, for it ran much in my mind still that I was to be a gentleman, -and it made me dumb for a while; but I came to myself after a little -while, and I said to him, pretty tartly, "Why, Will, do you call this -way of living the life of a gentleman?" - -"Why," says Will, "why not?" - -"Why," says I, "was it like a gentleman for me to take that 22s. from -a poor ancient woman, when she begged of me upon her knees not to take -it, and told me it was all she had in the world to buy her bread for -herself and a sick child which she had at home? Do you think I could -be so cruel, if you had not stood by and made me do it? Why, I cried -at doing it as much as the poor woman did, though I did not let you -see me." - -"You fool you," says Will; "you will never be fit for our business, -indeed, if you mind such things as those. I shall bring you off those -things quickly. Why, if you will be fit for business, you must learn -to fight when they resist, and cut their throats when they submit; you -must learn to stop their breath that they may beg and pray no more. -What signifies pity? Prithee, who will pity us when we come to the Old -Bailey? I warrant you that whining old woman, that begged so heartily -for her 22s., would let you and I beg upon our knees, and would not -save our lives by not coming in for an evidence against us. Did you -ever see any of them cry when they see gentlemen go to the gallows?" - -"Well, Will," says I, "you had better let us keep to the business we -were in before. There were no such cruel doings in that, and yet we -got more money by it than I believe we shall get at this." - -"No, no," says Will, "you are a fool; you don't know what fine things -we shall do in a little while." - -Upon this discourse we parted for that time; but I resolved with -myself that I would never be concerned with him that way any more. The -truth is, they were such a dreadful gang, such horrid barbarous -villains, that even that little while that I was among them my very -blood run cold in my veins at what I heard, particularly the continued -raving and damning one another and themselves at every word they -spoke; and then the horrid resolutions of murder, and cutting throats, -which I perceived was in their minds upon any occasion that should -present. This appeared first in their discourse upon the -disappointment they met with at Chelsea, where the two rogues that -were with us, ay, and Will too, damned and raged that they could not -get into the house, and swore they would have cut the gentleman's -throat if they had got in, and shook hands, damning and cursing -themselves if they did not murder the whole family as soon as Tom -(that was the manservant) could get an opportunity to let them in. - -Two days after this Will came to my lodging; for I had now got a room -by myself, had bought me tolerable good clothes and some shirts, and -began to look like other folks. But, as it happened, I was abroad upon -the scout in another way; for though I was not hardened enough for so -black a villain as Will would have had me be, yet I had not arrived to -any principle sufficient to keep me from a life, in its degree wicked -enough, which tended to the same destruction, though not in so violent -and precipitant degrees. I had his message delivered to me, which was -to meet him the next evening at such a place, and as I came in time -enough to meet, so I went to the place, but resolved beforehand that I -would not go any more with him among the gang. - -However, to my great satisfaction, I missed him; for he did not come -at all to the place, but met with the gang at another place, they -having sent for him in haste upon the notice of some booty; and so -they went all away together. This was a summons, it seems, from one of -the creatures which they had abroad in a family, where an opportunity -offered them to commit a notorious robbery, down almost as far as -Hounslow, and where they wounded a gentleman'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, nor did they get in so easy, -but by the resistance they met with the neighbours were all alarmed, -and the gentlemen rogues were pursued, and being at London with the -booty, one of them was taken. Will, a dexterous fellow and head of the -gang, made his escape, and though in his clothes, with a great weight -about him of both money and plate, plunged into the Thames and swam -over where there was no path or road leading to the river; so that -nobody suspected any one's going that way. Being got over, he made his -way, wet as he was, into some woods adjacent, and, as he told me -afterwards, not far from Chertsey, and stayed lurking about in the -woods or fields thereabouts till his clothes were dry; then, in the -night, got down to Kingston, and so to Mortlake, where he got a boat -to London. - -He knew nothing that one of his comrades was taken; only he knew that -they were all so closely pursued that they were obliged to disperse, -and every one to shift for himself. He happened to come home 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 of saving him from the gallows, discovered -his companions, and Will among the rest, as the principal party in the -whole undertaking. - -Will got notice of this just time enough to run for it and not to be -taken; and away he came to look for me; but, as my good fate still -directed, I was not at home neither. However, he left all his booty at -my lodging, and hid it in an old coat that lay under my bedding, and -left word that my brother Will had been there, and had left his coat -that he borrowed of me, and that it was under my bed. - -I knew not what to make of it, but went up to go to bed; and, finding -the parcel, was perfectly frighted to see, wrapped up in it, above one -hundred pound in plate and money, and yet knew nothing of brother -Will, as he called himself, nor did I hear of him for three or four -days. - -At the end of four days I heard, by great accident, that Will, who -used to be seen with me, and who called me brother, was taken, and -would be hanged. Next day a poor man, a shoemaker, that used formerly -to have a kindness for me, and to send me of errands, and gave me -sometimes some victuals, seeing me accidentally in Rosemary Lane, -going by him, clasped me fast hold by the arm. "Hark ye, young man," -says he, "have I catched you?" and hauled me along as if I had been a -thief apprehended, and he the constable. "Hark ye, Colonel Jacque," -says he again, "come along with me. I must speak with you. What, are -you got into this gang too? What, are you turned housebreaker? Come, -I'll have you hanged, to be sure." - -These were dreadful words to me, who, though not guilty of the -particular thing in question, yet was frighted heartily before, and -did not know what I might be charged with by Will, if he was taken, as -I heard that very morning he was. With these words, the shoemaker -began to hale and drag me along as he used to do when I was a boy. - -However, recovering my spirits, and provoked to the highest degree, I -said to him again, "What do you mean, Mr. ----? Let me alone, or you -will oblige me to make you do it;" and with that I stopped short, and -soon let him see I was grown a little too big to be haled about as I -used to be when I run of his errands, and made a motion with my other -hand as if I would strike him in the face. - -"How, Jacque!" says he; "will you strike me? Will you strike your old -friend?" and then he let go my arm, and laughed. "Well, but hark ye, -colonel," says he, "I am in earnest. I hear bad news of you. They say -you are gotten into bad company, and that this Will calls you brother. -He is a great villain, and I hear he is charged with a bloody robbery, -and will be hanged if he is taken. I hope you are not concerned with -him. If you are, I would advise you to shift for yourself, for the -constable and the headborough are after him to-day, and if he can lay -any thing to you he will do it, you may be sure. He will certainly -hang you to save himself." - -This was kind, and I thanked him, but told him this was a thing too -serious, and that had too much weight in it, to be jested with, as he -had done before; and that some ignorant stranger might have seized -upon me as a person guilty, who had no further concern in it than just -knowing the man, and so I might have been brought into trouble for -nothing. At least people might have thought I was among them, whether -I was or no, and it would have rendered me suspected, though I was -innocent. - -He acknowledged that; told me he was but in jest, and that he talked -to me just as he used to do. - -"However, colonel," says he, "I won't jest any more with you in a -thing of such a dangerous consequence; I only advise you to keep the -fellow company no more." - -I thanked him, and went away, but in the greatest perplexity -imaginable. And now, not knowing what to do with myself, or with the -little ill-gotten wealth which I had, I went musing and alone into the -fields towards Stepney, my usual walk, and there began to consider -what to do. And as this creature had left his prize in my garret, I -began to think that if he should be taken, and should confess and send -the officers to search there for the goods, and they should find them, -I should be undone, and should be taken up for a confederate; whereas -I knew nothing of the matter, and had no hand in it. - -While I was thus musing, and in great perplexity, I heard somebody -halloo to me; and, looking about, I saw Will running after me. I knew -not what to think at first, but seeing him alone, was the more -encouraged, and I stood still for him. When he came up to me I said to -him, "What is the matter, Will?" "Matter!" says Will. "Matter enough; -I am undone. When was you at home?" - -"I saw what you left there," says I. "What is the meaning of it, and -where got you all that? Is that your being undone?" - -"Ay," says Will, "I am undone for all that; for the officers are after -me; and I am a dead dog if I am taken, for George is in custody, and -he has peached on me and all the others to save his life." - -"Life!" says I; "why should you lose your life if they should take -you? Pray what would they do to you?" - -"Do to me!" says he; "they would hang me, if the king had ne'er -another soldier in his guards. I shall certainly be hanged as I am now -alive." - -This frighted me terribly, and I said, "And what will you do then?" -"Nay," says he, "I know not. I would get out of the nation, if I knew -how; but I am a stranger to all those things, and I know not what to -do, not I. Advise me, Jacque," says he; "prithee tell me whither shall -I go. I have a good mind to go to sea." - -"You talk of going away," says I; "what will you do with all you have -hid in my garret? It must not lie there," said I; "for if I should be -taken up for it, and it be found to be the money you stole, I shall be -ruined." - -"I care not what becomes of it, not I," says Will. "I'll be gone. Do -you take it, if you will, and do what you will with it. I must fly, -and I cannot take it with me." "I won't have it, not I," says I to -him. "I'll go and fetch it to you if you will take it," says I; "but I -won't meddle with it. Besides, there is plate. What shall I do with -plate?" said I. "If I should offer to sell it anywhere," said I, "they -will stop me." - -"As for that," says Will, "I could sell it well enough, if I had it; -but I must not be seen anywhere among my old acquaintance; for I am -blown, and they will all betray me. But I will tell you where you -shall go and sell it, if you will, and they will ask you no questions, -if you give them the word that I will give you." So he gave me the -word, and directions to a pawnbroker near Cloth Fair. The word was -_Good tower standard_. Having these instructions, he said to me, -"Colonel Jacque, I am sure you won't betray me; and I promise you, if -I am taken, and should be hanged, I won't name you. I will go to such -a house" (naming a house at Bromley, by Bow, where he and I had often -been), "and there," says he, "I'll stay till it is dark. At night I -will come near the streets, and I will lay under such a haystack all -night" (a place we both knew also very well); "and if you cannot -finish to come to me there, I will go back to Bow." - -I went back and took the cargo, went to the place by Cloth Fair, and -gave the word _Good tower standard_; and without any words, they took -the plate, weighed it, and paid me after the rate of 2s. per ounce for -it. So I came away and went to meet him, but it was too late to meet -him at the first place; but I went to the haystack, and there I found -him fast asleep. - -I delivered him his cargo. What it really amounted to I knew not, for -I never told it; but I went home to my quarters very late and tired. I -went to sleep at first, but, notwithstanding I was so weary, I slept -little or none for several hours. At last, being overcome with sleep, -I dropped, but was immediately roused with noise of people knocking at -the door, as if they would beat it down, and crying and calling out to -the people of the house, "Rise, and let in the constable here. We come -for your lodger in the garret." - -I was frighted to the last degree, and started up in my bed; but when -I was awaked I heard no noise at all, but of two watchmen thumping at -the doors with their staves, and giving the hour, "Past three o'clock, -and a rainy, wet morning"--for such it was. I was very glad when I -found it was but a dream, and went to bed again, but was soon roused a -second time with the same, very same noise and words. Then, being -sooner awaked than I was before, I jumped out of bed and ran to the -window, and found it was just an hour more, and the watchmen were come -about: "Past four o'clock," and they went away again very quietly; so -I lay me down again, and slept the rest of the night quietly enough. - -I laid no stress upon the thing called a dream, neither till now did I -understand that dreams were of any importance; but getting up the next -day, and going out with a resolution to meet brother Will, who should -I meet but my former brother, Captain Jacque. When he saw me, he came -close to me in his blunt way, and says, "Do you hear the news?" "No, -not I," said I; "what news?" "Your old comrade and teacher is taken -this morning and carried to Newgate." "How," says I, "this morning?" -"Yes," says he, "this morning at four o'clock. He is charged with a -robbery and murder somewhere beyond Brentford; and that which is worse -is, that he is impeached by one of the gang, who, to save his own -life, has turned evidence; and therefore you had best consider," says -the captain, "what you have to do." "What I have to do!" says I; "and -what do you mean by that?" "Nay, colonel," says he, "don't be angry; -you know best. If you are not in danger, I am glad of it, but I doubt -not but you were with them." "No, not I," said I again; "I assure you -I was not." "Well," says he, "but if you were not with them this bout, -you have been with them at other times; and 'twill be all one." "Not -I," says I; "you are quite mistaken. I am none of their gang; they are -above my quality." With such, and a little more talk of that kind, we -parted, and Captain Jacque went away; but as he went I observed he -shook his head, seemed to have more concern upon him than he could be -supposed to have merely on my account, of which we shall hear more -very quickly. - -I was extremely alarmed when I heard Will was in Newgate, and, had I -known where to have gone, would certainly have fled as far as legs -would have carried me. My very joints trembled, and I was ready to -sink into the ground; and all that evening, and that night following, -I was in the uttermost consternation. My head ran upon nothing but -Newgate and the gallows, and being hanged; which, I said, I deserved, -if it were for nothing but taking that two-and-twenty shillings from -the poor old nurse. - -The first thing my perplexed thoughts allowed me to take care of was -my money. This indeed lay in a little compass, and I carried it -generally all about me. I had got together, as you will perceive by -the past account, above 60 (for I spent nothing), and what to do with -it I knew not. At last it came into my head that I would go to my -benefactor, the clerk at the custom-house, if he was to be found, and -see if I could get him to take the rest of my money. The only business -was to make a plausible story to him, that he might not wonder how I -came by so much money. - -But my invention quickly supplied that want. There was a suit of -clothes at one of our houses of rendezvous, which was left there for -any of the gang to put on, upon particular occasions, as a disguise. -This was a green livery, laced with pink-coloured galloon, and lined -with the same; an edged hat, a pair of boots, and a whip. I went and -dressed myself up in this livery, and went to my gentleman, to his -house in Tower Street, and there I found him in health and well, just -the same honest gentleman as ever. - -He stared at me when first I came to him, for I met him just at his -door; I say, he stared at me, and seeing me bow and bow to him several -times, with my laced hat under my arm, at last, not knowing me in the -least, says he to me, "Dost thou want to speak with me, young man?" -And I said, "Yes, sir; I believe your worship" (I had learnt some -manners now) "does not know me. I am the poor boy Jacque." He looked -hard at me, and then recollecting me presently, says he, "Who--Colonel -Jacque! Why, where hast thou been all this while? Why, 'tis five or -six years since I saw you." "'Tis above six years, and please your -worship," says I. - -"Well, and where hast thou been all this while?" says he. - -"I have been in the country, sir," says I, "at service." - -"Well, Colonel Jacque," says he, "you give long credit; what's the -reason you han't fetched your money all this while, nor the interest? -Why, you will grow so rich in time by the interest of your money, you -won't know what to do with it." - -To that I said nothing, but bowed and scraped a great many times. -"Well, come, Colonel Jacque," said he, "come in and I will give you -your money, and the interest of it too." - -I cringed and bowed, and told him I did not come to him for my money; -for I had had a good place or two, and I did not want my money. - -"Well, Colonel Jacque," said he, "and who do you live with?" - -"Sir Jonathan Loxham," said I, "sir, in Somersetshire, and please your -worship." This was a name I had heard of, but knew nothing of any such -gentleman, or of the country. - -"Well," says he, "but won't you have your money, Jacque?" - -"No, sir," said I, "if your worship would please, for I have had a -good place." - -"If I would please to do what, prithee? Your money is ready, I tell -thee." - -"No, sir," said I; "but I have had a good place." - -"Well, and what dost thou mean, Jacque? I do not understand thee." - -"Why, and please your worship, my old master, Sir Jonathan's father, -left me 30 when he died, and a suit of mourning, and----" - -"And what, prithee, Jacque? What, hast thou brought me more money?" -For then he began to understand what I meant. - -"Yes, sir," said I; "and your worship would be so good to take it, and -put it all together. I have saved some, too, out of my wages." - -"I told you, Jacque," says he, "you would be rich. And how much hast -thou saved? Come, let me see it." - -To shorten the story, I pulled it out, and he was content to take it, -giving me his note, with interest, for the whole sum, which amounted -to 94; that is to say, - - 25 The first money. - 9 For six years' interest. - 60 Now paid him. - ___ - 94 - - -I came away exceeding joyful, made him abundance of bows and scrapes, -and went immediately to shift my clothes again, with a resolution to -run away from London and see it no more for a great while. But I was -surprised the very next morning, when, going cross Rosemary Lane, by -the end of the place which is called Rag Fair, I heard one call -"Jacque." He had said something before, which I did not hear, but upon -hearing the name Jacque I looked about me, immediately saw three men, -and after them a constable coming towards me with great fury. I was in -a great surprise, and started to run, but one of them clapped in upon -me, and got hold of me, and in a moment the rest surrounded me, and I -was taken. I asked them what they wanted, and what I had done. They -told me it was no place to talk of that there, but showed me their -warrant, and bade me read it, and I should know the rest when I came -before the justice; so they hurried me away. - -I took the warrant, but, to my great affliction, I could know nothing -by that, for I could not read; so I desired them to read it, and they -read it, that they were to apprehend a known thief, that went by the -name of one of the three Jacques of Rag Fair; for that he was charged -upon oath with having been a party in a notorious robbery, burglary, -and murder, committed so and so, in such a place, and on such a day. - -It was to no purpose for me to deny it, or to say I knew nothing of -it; that was none of their business, they said; that must be disputed, -they told me, before the justice, where I would find that it was sworn -positively against me, and then, perhaps, I might be better satisfied. - -I had no remedy but patience; and as my heart was full of terror and -guilt, so I was ready to die with the weight of it as they carried me -along. For as I very well knew that I was guilty of the first day's -work, though I was not of the last, so I did not doubt but I should be -sent to Newgate, and then I took it for granted I must be hanged; for -to go to Newgate and to be hanged were to me as things which -necessarily followed one another. - -But I had a sharp conflict to go through before it came to that part; -and that was before the justice; where, when I was come, and the -constable brought me in, the justice asked me my name. "But hold," -says he, "young man; before I ask you your name, let me do you -justice. You are not bound to answer till your accusers come;" so, -turning to the constable, he asked for his warrant. - -"Well," says the justice, "you have brought this young man here by -virtue of this warrant. Is this young man the person for whom this -warrant is granted?" - -_Con_. I believe so, and please your worship. - -_Just_. Believe so! Why, are you not sure of it? - -_Con_. An't please your worship, the people said so where I took him. - -_Just_. It is a very particular kind of warrant; it is to apprehend a -young man who goes by the name of Jacque, but no surname, only that it -is said he is called Captain Jacque, or some other such name. Now, -young man, pray is your name Captain Jacque? or are you usually called -so? - -I presently found that the men that took me knew nothing of me, and -the constable had taken me up by hearsay; so I took heart, and told -the justice that I thought, with submission, that it was not the -present question what my name was, but what these men, or any one -else, had to lay to my charge; whether I was the person who the -warrant empowered them to apprehend or no. - -He smiled. "'Tis very true, young man," says he, "it is very true; -and, on my word, if they have taken you up, and do not know you, and -there is nobody to charge you, they will be mistaken to their own -damage." - -Then I told his worship I hoped I should not be obliged to tell my -name till my accuser was brought to charge me, and then I should not -conceal my name. - -"It is but reason," said his good worship. "Mr. Constable," turning to -the officers, "are you sure this is the person that is intended in -your warrant? If you are not, you must fetch the person that accuses -him, and on whose oath the warrant was granted." They used many words -to insinuate that I was the person, and that I knew it well enough, -and that I should be obliged to tell my name. - -I insisted on the unreasonableness of it, and that I should not be -obliged to accuse myself: and the justice told them in so many words -that he could not force me to it, that I might do it if I would, -indeed; "but you see," says the justice, "he understood too well to be -imposed upon in that case." So that, in short, after an hour's -debating before his worship, in which time I pleaded against four of -them, the justice told them they must produce the accuser, or he must -discharge me. - -I was greatly encouraged at this, and argued with the more vigour for -myself. At length the accuser was brought, fettered as he was, from -the gaol, and glad I was when I saw him, and found that I knew him -not; that is to say, that it was not one of the two rogues that I went -out with that night that we robbed the poor old woman. - -When the prisoner was brought into the room he was set right against -me. - -"Do you know this young man?" says the justice. - -"No, sir," says the prisoner; "I never saw him in my life." - -"Hum!" says the justice; "did not you charge one that goes by the name -of Jacque, or Captain Jacque, as concerned in the robbery and murder -which you are in custody for?" - -_Pris_. Yes, an't please your worship. - -_Just_. And is this the man, or is he not? - -_Pris_. This is not the man, sir; I never saw this man before. - -"Very good, Mr. Constable," says the justice, "what must we do now?" - -"I am surprised," says the constable. "I was at such a house" (naming -the house), "and this young man went by. The people cried out, -'There's Jacque; that's your man;' and these people ran after him, and -apprehended him." - -"Well," says the justice, "and have these people anything to say to -him? Can they prove that he is the person?" - -One said no, and the other said no; and, in short, they all said no. -"Why, then," said the justice, "what can be done? The young man must -be discharged; and I must tell you, Mr. Constable, and you gentlemen -that have brought him hither, he may give you trouble, if he thinks -fit, for your being so rash. But look you, young man," says the -justice, "you have no great damage done you, and the constable, though -he has been mistaken, had no ill design, but to be faithful to his -office. I think you may pass it by." - -I told his worship I would readily pass it by at his direction, but I -thought the constable and the rest could do no less than to go back to -the place where they had insulted me, and declare publicly there that -I was honourably acquitted, and that I was not the man. This his -worship said was very reasonable, and the constable and his assistants -promised to do it, and so we came all away good friends, and I was -cleared with triumph. - -_Note_.--This was the time that, as I mentioned above, the justice -talked to me, and told me I was born to better things, and that by my -well managing of my own defence, he did not question but I had been -well educated; and that he was sorry I should fall into such a -misfortune as this, which he hoped, however, would be no dishonour to -me, since I was so handsomely acquitted. - -Though his worship was mistaken in the matter of my education, yet it -had this good effect upon me, that I resolved, if possible, I would -learn to read and write, that I would not be such an uncapable -creature, that I should not be able to read a warrant, and see whether -I was the person to be apprehended or not. - -But there was something more in all this than what I have taken notice -of; for, in a word, it appeared plainly that my brother, Captain -Jacque, 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 -be afraid to fly, at the same time that he advised me to shift for -myself. - -As this presently occurred to my thoughts, so I made it my business to -inquire and find him out, and to give him notice of it. - -In the meantime, being now confident of my own safety, I had no more -concern upon my mind about myself; but now I began to be anxious for -poor Will, my master and tutor in wickedness, who was now fast by the -heels in Newgate, while I was happily at liberty; and I wanted very -much to go and see him, and accordingly did so. - -I found him in a sad condition, loaden with heavy irons, and had -himself no prospect or hope of escaping. He told me he should die, but -bid me be easy; for, as it would do him no good to accuse me, who -never was out with any of them but that once, so I might depend upon -it he would not bring me into the trouble. As for the rogue who had -betrayed them all, he was not able to hurt me, for I might be -satisfied he had never seen me in his life. "But, Colonel Jacque," -says he, "I will tell you who was with us, and that is, your brother -the captain, and the villain has certainly named him; and, therefore," -says he, "if you can give him timely notice of it, do, that he may -make his escape." - -He said a great many things to warn me off following the steps he had -led me. "I was far out, Jacque," said he, "when I told you, to be a -notorious thief was to live like a gentleman." He chiefly discovered -his concern that they had, as he feared, killed the gentleman's -gardener, and that he in particular had given him a wound in the neck, -of which he was afraid he would die. - -He had a great sum of money in gold about him, being the same that I -had carried back to him at the haystack; and he had concealed it so -well that those who took him had not found it, and he gave me the -greatest part of it to carry to his mother, which I very honestly -delivered, and came away with a heavy heart. Nor did I ever see him -since, for he was executed in about three weeks' time after, being -condemned that very next sessions. - -I had nothing to do now but to find the captain, who, though not -without some trouble, I at last got news of, and told him the whole -story, and how I had been taken up for him by mistake, and was come -off, but that the warrant was still out for him, and very strict -search after him; I say, telling him all this, he presently discovered -by his surprise that he was guilty, and after a few words more, told -me plainly it was all true, that he was in the robbery, and that he -had the greatest part of the booty in keeping, but what to do with it, -or himself, he did not know; and wanted me to tell him, which I was -very unfit to do, for I knew nothing of the world. Then he told me he -had a mind to fly into Scotland, which was easy to be done, and asked -me if I would go with him. I told him I would, with all my heart, if I -had money enough to bear the charge. He had the trade still in his -eyes by his answer. "I warrant you," says he, "we will make the -journey pay our charge." "I dare not think of going any more upon the -adventure," says I. "Besides, if we meet with any misfortune out of -our knowledge, we shall never get out of it; we shall be undone." -"Nay," says he; "we shall find no mercy here, if they can catch us, -and they can do no worse abroad. I am for venturing at all events." - -"Well, but, captain," says I, "have you husbanded your time so ill -that you have no money to supply you in such a time as this?" "I have -very little indeed," said he, "for I have had bad luck lately." But he -lied, for he had a great share of the booty they had got at their last -adventure, as above; and, as the rest complained, he and Will had got -almost all of it, and kept the rest out of their shares, which made -them the willinger to discover them. - -However it was, he owned he had about 22 in money, and something that -would yield money--I suppose it was plate; but he would not tell me -what it was, or where it was. But he said he durst not go to fetch it, -for he should be betrayed and seized, so he would venture without it. -"Sure," says he, "we shall come back again some time or other." - -I honestly produced all the money I had, which was 16 and some odd -shillings. "Now," says I, "if we are good husbands, and travel -frugally, this will carry us quite out of danger." For we had both -been assured that when we came out of England we should be both safe, -and nobody could hurt us, though they had known us; but we neither of -us thought it was so many weary steps to Scotland as we found it. - -I speak of myself as in the same circumstances of danger with brother -Jacque; but it was only thus: I was in as much fear as he, but not in -quite as much danger. - -I cannot omit that, in the interval of these things, and a few days -before I carried my money to the gentleman in Tower Street, I took a -walk all alone into the fields, in order to go to Kentish Town and do -justice to the poor old nurse. It happened that, before I was aware, I -crossed a field that came to the very spot where I robbed the poor old -woman and the maid, or where, I should say, Will made me rob them. My -heart had reproached me many a time with that cruel action, and many a -time I promised to myself that I would find a way to make her -satisfaction and restore her money, and that day I had set apart for -the work, but was a little surprised that I was so suddenly upon the -unhappy spot. - -The place brought to my mind the villainy I had committed there, and -something struck me with a kind of wish--I cannot say prayer, for I -knew not what that meant--that I might leave off that cursed trade, -and said to myself, "Oh that I had some trade to live by! I would -never rob no more, for sure 'tis a wicked, abominable thing." - -Here indeed I felt the loss of what just parents do, and ought to do, -by all their children--I mean, being bred to some trade or employment; -and I wept many times that I knew not what to do or what to turn my -hand to, though, I resolved to leave off the wicked course I was in. - -But to return to my journey. I asked my way to Kentish Town, and it -happened to be of a poor woman that said she lived there; upon which -intelligence I asked if she knew a woman that lived there whose name -was Smith. She answered yes, very well; that she was not a settled -inhabitant, only a lodger in the town, but that she was an honest, -poor, industrious woman, and by her labour and pains maintained a poor -diseased husband, that had been unable to help himself some years. - -"What a villain have I been," said I to myself, "that I should rob -such a poor woman as this, and add grief and tears to her misery, and -to the sorrows of her house!" This quickened my resolution to restore -her money; and not only so, but I resolved I would give her something -over and above her loss. So I went forward, and by the direction I had -received, found her lodging with very little trouble. Then asking for -the woman, she came to the door immediately; for she heard me ask for -her by her name of a little girl that came first to the door. I -presently spoke to her: "Dame," said I, "was not you robbed about a -year ago, as you was coming home from London, about Pindar of -Wakefield?" "Yes, indeed I was," says she; "and sadly frighted into -the bargain." "And how much did you lose?" said I. "Indeed," says she, -"I lost all the money I had in the world. I am sure I worked hard for -it; it was money for keeping a nurse-child that I had then, and I had -been at London to receive it." "But how much was it, dame?" said I. -"Why," says she, "it was 22s. 6d.; 21s. I had been to fetch, and the -odd money was my own before." - -"Well, look you, good woman, what will you say if I should put you in -a way to get your money again? for I believe the fellow that took it -is fast enough now, and perhaps I may do you a kindness in it, and for -that I came to see you." "Oh dear!" says the old woman, "I understand -you, but indeed I cannot swear to the man's face again, for it was -dark; and, besides, I would not hang the poor wretch for my money; let -him live and repent." "That is very kind," says I--"more than he -deserves from you; but you need not be concerned about that, for he -will be hanged whether you appear against him or not; but are you -willing to have your money again that you lost?" "Yes, indeed," says -the woman, "I should be glad of that; for I have not been so hard put -to it for money a great while as I am now; I have much ado to find us -bread to eat, though I work hard early and late;" and with that she -cried. - -I thought it would have broken my very heart, to think how this poor -creature worked and was a slave at near threescore, and that I, a -young fellow of hardly twenty, should rob her of her bread to support -my idleness and wicked life; and the tears came from my eyes in spite -of all my struggling to prevent it, and the woman perceived it too. -"Poor woman," said I, "'tis a sad thing such creatures as these should -plunder and strip such a poor object as thou art. Well, he is at -leisure now to repent it, I assure you." "I perceive, sir," says she, -"you are very compassionate indeed. I wish he may improve the time God -has spared him, and that he may repent, and I pray God give him -repentance. Whoever he is, I forgive him, whether he can make me -recompense or not, and I pray God forgive him. I won't do him any -prejudice, not I." And with that she went on praying for me. - -"Well, dame, come hither to me," says I; and with that I put my hand -into my pocket, and she came to me. "Hold up your hand," said I; which -she did, and I told her nine half-crowns into her hand. "There, dame," -said I, "is your 22s. 6d. you lost. I assure you, dame," said I, "I -have been the chief instrument to get it off him for you; for, ever -since he told me the story of it among the rest of his wicked -exploits, I never gave him any rest till I made him promise me to make -you restitution." All the while I held her hand and put the money into -it I looked in her face, and I perceived her colour come and go, and -that she was under the greatest surprise of joy imaginable. - -"Well, God bless him," says she, "and spare him from the disaster he -is afraid of, if it be His will. For sure this is an act of so much -justice, and so honest, that I never expected the like." She run on a -great while so, and wept for him when I told her I doubted there was -no room to expect his life. "Well," says she, "then pray God give him -repentance and bring him to heaven; for sure he must have something -that is good at the bottom; he has a principle of honesty at bottom to -be sure, however he may have been brought into bad courses by bad -company or evil example, or other temptations; but I daresay he will -be brought to repentance one time or other before he dies." - -All this touched me nearer than she imagined; for I was the man that -she prayed for all this while, though she did not know it, and in my -heart I said amen to it. For I was sensible that I had done one of the -vilest actions in the world in attacking a poor creature in such a -condition, and not listening to her entreaties when she begged so -heartily for that little money we took from her. - -In a word, the good woman so moved me with her charitable prayers that -I put my hand in my pocket again for her: "Dame," said I, "you are so -charitable in your petitions for this miserable creature that it puts -me in mind of one thing more which I will do for him, whether he -ordered me or not; and that is, to ask your forgiveness for the thief -in robbing you. For it was an offence and a trespass against you, as -well as an injury to you; and therefore I ask your pardon for him. -Will you sincerely and heartily forgive him, dame? I do desire it of -you;" and with that I stood up, and, with my hat off, asked her -pardon. "O sir!" says she, "do not stand up, and with your hat off to -me. I am a poor woman; I forgive him, and all that were with him; for -there was one or more with him. I forgive them with all my heart, and -I pray God to forgive them." - -"Well, dame, then," said I, "to make you some recompense for your -charity, there is something for you more than your loss;" and with -that I gave her a crown more. - -Then I asked her who that was who was robbed with her. She said it was -a servant-maid that lived then in the town, but she was gone from her -place, and she did not know where she lived now. "Well, dame," says -I, "if ever you do hear of her, let her leave word where she may be -found; and if I live to come and see you again, I will get the money -off him for her too. I think that was but little, was it?" "No," says -she; "it was but 5s. 6d.," which I knew as well as she. "Well," says -I, "dame, inquire her out if you have an opportunity;" so she promised -me she would, and away I came. - -The satisfaction this gave me was very much; but then a natural -consequence attended it, which filled me with reflection afterwards; -and this was, that, by the same rule, I ought to make restitution to -all that I had wronged in the like manner; and what could I do as to -that? To this I knew not what to say, and so the thought in time wore -off; for, in short, it was impossible to be done. I had not ability, -neither did I know any of the people whom I had so injured; and that -satisfying me for the present, I let it drop. - -I come now to my journey with Captain Jacque, my supposed brother. We -set out from London on foot, and travelled the first day to Ware; for -we had learnt so much of our road that the way lay through that town. -We were weary enough the first day, having not been used at all to -travelling; but we made shift to walk once up and down the town after -we came into it. - -I soon found that his walking out to see the town was not to satisfy -his curiosity in viewing the place, for he had no notion of anything -of that kind, but to see if he could light of any purchase. For he was -so natural a thief that he could see nothing on the road but it -occurred to him how easily that might be taken, and how cleverly this -might be carried off, and the like. - -Nothing offered in Ware to his mind, it not being market-day; and as -for me, though I made no great scruple of eating and drinking at the -cost of his roguery, yet I resolved not to enter upon anything, as -they called it, nor to take the least thing from anybody. - -When the captain found me resolved upon the negative, he asked me how -I thought to travel. I asked him what he thought of himself, that was -sure to be hanged if he was taken, how small soever the crime was that -he should be taken for. "How can that be?" says he; "they don't know -me in the country." "Ay," says I; "but do you think they do not send -up word to Newgate as soon as any thief is taken in the country, and -so inquire who is escaped from them, or who is fled, that they may be -stopped? Assure yourself," says I, "the gaolers correspond with one -another, with the greatest exactness imaginable; and if you were taken -here but for stealing a basket of eggs, you shall have your accuser -sent down to see if he knows you." - -This terrified him a little for a while, and kept him honest for three -or four days; but it was but for a few days indeed, for he played a -great many rogue's tricks without me; till at last he came to his end -without me too, though it was not till many years after, as you shall -hear in its order. But as these exploits are no part of my story, but -of his, whose life and exploits are sufficient to make a volume larger -than this by itself, so I shall omit every thing but what I was -particularly concerned in during this tedious journey. - -From Ware we travelled to Cambridge, though that was not our direct -road. The occasion was this: in our way, going through a village -called Puckeridge, we baited at an inn, at the sign of the Falcon, and -while we were there a countryman comes to the inn, and hangs his horse -at the door while he goes in to drink. We sat in the gateway, having -called for a mug of beer, and drank it up. We had been talking with -the hostler about the way to Scotland, and he had bid us ask the road -to Royston. "But," says 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, when on -the sudden comes a gentleman's coach to the door, and three or four -horsemen. The horsemen rode into the yard, and the hostler was obliged -to go in with them. Says 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 me to follow him. We walked together to the turning. Says -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 was got up -upon the horse and at my heels. "Come, get up," says he; "we will have -a lift, if we don't get the horse by the bargain." - -I made no difficulty to get up behind him, and away we went at a good -round rate, it being a good strong horse. We lost no time for an -hour's riding and more, by which time we thought we were out of the -reach of being pursued. And as the country man, when he should miss -his horse, would hear that we inquired the way to Royston, he would -certainly pursue us that way, and not towards Cambridge. We went -easier after the first hour's riding, and coming through a town or -two, we alighted by turns, and did not ride double through the -villages. - - -[Image: Escaping with the purloined horse.] - - -Now, as it was impossible for the captain to pass by anything that he -could lay his hand on and not take it, so now, having a horse to carry -it off too, the temptation was the stronger. Going through a village -where a good housewife of the house had been washing, and hung her -clothes out upon a hedge near the road, he could not help it, but got -hold of a couple of good shirts that were but about half dry, and -overtook me upon the spur; for I walked on before. I immediately got -up behind, and away we galloped together as fast as the horse would -well go. In this part of our expedition his good luck or mine carried -us quite out of the road, and having seen nobody to ask the way of, we -lost ourselves, and wandered I know not how many miles to the right -hand, till, partly by that means and partly by the occasion following, -we came quite into the coach-road to Cambridge from London by -Bishop-Stortford. The particular occasion that made me wander on was -thus: the country was all open cornfields, no enclosures; when, being -upon a little rising ground, I bade him stop the horse, for I would -get down and walk a little to ease my legs, being tired with riding so -long behind without stirrups. When I was down and looked a little -about me, I saw plainly the great white road, which we should have -gone, at near two miles from us. - -On a sudden looking a little back to my left, upon that road, I saw -four or five horsemen riding full speed, some a good way before the -others, and hurrying on, as people in a full pursuit. - -It immediately struck me: "Ha! brother Jacque," says I, "get off the -horse this moment, and ask why afterwards." So he jumps off. "What is -the matter?" says he. "The matter!" says I. "Look yonder; it is well -we have lost our way. Do you see how they ride? They are pursuing us, -you may depend upon it. Either," says I, "you are pursued from the -last village for the two shirts, or from Puckeridge for the horse." He -had so much presence of mind that, without my mentioning it to him, he -puts back the horse behind a great white thorn-bush, which grew just -by him; so they could by no means see the horse, which, we being just -at the top of the hill, they might otherwise have done, and so have -pursued that way at a venture. - -But as it was impossible for them to see the horse, so was it as -impossible for them to see us at that distance, who sat down on the -ground to look at them the more securely. - -The road winding about, we saw them a great way, and they rode as fast -as they could make their horses go. When we found they were gone quite -out of sight, we mounted and made the best of our way also; and -indeed, though we were two upon one horse, yet we abated no speed -where the way would admit of it, not inquiring of anybody the way to -anywhere till, after about two hours' riding, we came to a town, -which, upon inquiry, they called Chesterford. And here we stopped, and -asked not our way to any place, but whither that road went, and were -told it was the coach-road to Cambridge; also that it was the way to -Newmarket, to St. Edmund's Bury, to Norwich and Yarmouth, to Lynn, and -to Ely, and the like. - -We stayed here a good while, believing ourselves secure; and -afterwards, towards evening, went forward to a place called -Bournbridge, where the road to Cambridge turns away out of the road to -Newmarket, and where there are but two houses only, both of them being -inns. Here the captain says to me, "Hark ye, you see we are pursued -towards Cambridge, and shall be stopped if we go thither. Now -Newmarket is but ten miles off, and there we may be safe, and perhaps -get an opportunity to do some business." - -"Look ye, Jacque," said I, "talk no more of doing business, for I will -not join with you in anything of that kind. I would fain get you to -Scotland before you get a halter about your neck. I will not have you -hanged in England, if I can help it; and therefore I won't go to -Newmarket, unless you will promise me to take no false steps there." -"Well," says he, "if I must not, then I won't; but I hope you will let -us get another horse, won't you, that we may travel faster?" "No," -says I, "I won't agree to that; but if you will let me send this horse -back fairly, I will tell you how we shall hire horses afterwards, for -one stage, or two, and then take them as far as we please: it is only -sending a letter to the owner to send for him, and then, if we are -stopped, it can do us but little hurt." - -"You are a wary, politic gentleman," says the captain, "but I say we -are better as we are; for we are out of all danger of being stopped on -the way after we are gone from this place." - -We had not parleyed thus long, but, though in the dead of the night, -came a man to the other inn door--for, as I said above, there are two -inns at that place--and called for a pot of beer; but the people were -all in bed, and would not rise. He asked them if they had seen two -fellows come that way upon one horse. The man said he had, that they -went by in the afternoon, and asked the way to Cambridge, but did not -stop only to drink one mug. "Oh!" says he, "are they gone to -Cambridge? Then I'll be with them quickly." I was awake in a little -garret of the next inn, where we lodged, and hearing the fellow call -at the door, got up and went to the window, having some uneasiness at -every noise I heard; and by that means heard the whole story. Now, the -case is plain, our hour was not come, our fate had determined other -things for us, and we were to be reserved for it. The matter was thus. -When we first came to Bournbridge, we called at the first house, and -asked the way to Cambridge, drank a mug of beer and went on, and they -might see to turn off to go the way they directed. But night coming -on, and we being very weary, we thought we should not find the way; -and we came back in the dusk of the evening, and went into the other -house, being the first as we came back, as that where we called before -was the first as we went forward. - -You may be sure I was alarmed now, as indeed I had reason to be. The -captain was in bed and fast asleep, but I wakened him, and roused him -with a noise that frighted him enough. "Rise, Jacque," said I; "we are -both ruined; they are come after us hither." Indeed, I was wrong to -terrify him at that rate; for he started, and jumped out of bed, and -ran directly to the window, not knowing where he was, and, not quite -awake, was just going to jump out of the window, but I laid hold of -him. "What are you going to do?" says I. "I won't be taken," says he. -"Let me alone. Where are they?" - -This was all confusion; and he was so out of himself with the fright, -and being overcome with sleep, that I had much to do to prevent his -jumping out of the window. However, I held him fast, and thoroughly -wakened him, and then all was well again, and he was presently -composed. - -Then I told him the story, and we sat together upon the bedside, -considering what we should do. Upon the whole, as the fellow that -called was apparently gone to Cambridge, we had nothing to fear, but -to be quiet till daybreak, and then to mount and be gone. - -Accordingly, as soon as day peeped we were up; and having happily -informed ourselves of the road at the other house, and being told that -the road to Cambridge turned off on the left hand, and that the road -to Newmarket lay straight forward--I say, having learnt this, the -captain told me he would walk away on foot towards Newmarket; and so, -when I came to go out, I should appear as a single traveller. And -accordingly he went out immediately, and away he walked; and he -travelled so hard that when I came to follow, I thought once that he -had dropped me; for though I rode hard, I got no sight of him for an -hour. At length, having passed the great bank called the Devil's -Ditch, I found him, and took him up behind me, and we rode double till -we came almost to the end of Newmarket town. Just at the hither house -in the town stood a horse at a door, just as it was at Puckeridge. -"Now," says Jack, "if the horse was at the other end of the town I -would have him, as sure as we had the other at Puckeridge;" but it -would not do; so he got down and walked through the town on the -right-hand side of the way. - -He had not got half through the town but the horse, having somehow or -other got loose, came trotting gently on by himself, and nobody -following him. The captain, an old soldier at such work, as soon as -the horse was got a pretty way before him, and that he saw nobody -followed, sets up a run after the horse, and the horse, hearing him -follow, ran the faster. Then the captain calls out, "Stop the horse!" -and by this time the horse was got almost to the farther end of the -town, the people of the house where he stood not missing him all the -while. - -Upon his calling out, "Stop the horse!" the poor people of the town, -such as were next at hand, ran from both sides the way and stopped the -horse for him, as readily as could be, and held him for him till he -came up. He very gravely comes up to the horse, hits him a blow or -two, and calls him dog for running away, gives the man twopence that -catched him for him, mounts, and away he comes after me. - -This was the oddest adventure that could have happened, for the horse -stole the captain, the captain did not steal the horse. When he came -up to me, "Now, Colonel Jacque," says he, "what say you to good luck? -Would you have had me refuse the horse, when he came so civilly to ask -me to ride?" "No, no," said I; "you have got this horse by your wit, -not by design; and you may go on now, I think. You are in a safer -condition than I am, if we are taken." - -The next question was what road we should take. Here were four ways -before us, and we were alike strangers to them all. First, on the -right hand, and at about a little mile from the town, a great road -went off to St. Edmund's Bury; straight on, but in clining afterwards -to the right, lay the great road to Barton Mills and Thetford, and so -to Norwich; and full before us lay a great road, also, to Brandon and -Lynn; and on the left lay a less road to the city of Ely, and into the -fens. - -In short, as we knew not which road to take, nor which way to get into -the great north road, which we had left, so we, by mere unguided -chance, took the way to Brandon, and so to Lynn. At Brand, or Brandon, -we were told that, passing over at a place called Downham Bridge, we -might cross the fen country to Wisbeach, and from thence go along that -bank of the river Nene to Peterborough, and from thence to Stamford, -where we were in the northern road again; and likewise, that at Lynn -we might go by the Washes into Lincolnshire, and so might travel -north. But, upon the whole, this was my rule, that, when we inquired -the way to any particular place, to be sure we never took that road, -but some other which the accidental discourse we might have should -bring in. And thus we did here; for, having chiefly asked our way into -the northern road, we resolved to go directly for Lynn. - -We arrived here very easy and safe, and while we was considering of -what way we should travel next we found we were got to a point, and -that there was no way now left but that by the Washes into -Lincolnshire, and that was represented as very dangerous; so an -opportunity offering of a man that was travelling over the fens, we -took him for our guide, and went with him to Spalding, and from thence -to a town called Deeping, and so to Stamford in Lincolnshire. - -This is a large, populous town, and it was market-day when we came to -it; so we put in at a little house at the hither end of the town, and -walked into the town. - -Here it was not possible to restrain my captain from playing his feats -of art, and my heart ached for him. I told him I would not go with -him, for he would not promise, and I was so terribly concerned at the -apprehensions of his venturous humour that I would not so much as stir -out of my lodging; but it was in vain to persuade him. He went into -the market, and found a mountebank there, which was what he wanted. -How he picked two pockets there in one quarter of an hour, and brought -to our quarters a piece of new holland of eight or nine ells, a piece -of stuff, and played three or four pranks more in less than two hours; -and how afterward he robbed a doctor of physic, and yet came off -clear in them all--this, I say, as above, belongs to his story, not -mine. - -I scolded heartily at him when he came back, and told him he would -certainly ruin himself, and me too, before he left off, and threatened -in so many words that I would leave him, and go back and carry the -horse to Puckeridge where we borrowed it, and so go to London by -myself. - -He promised amendment; but as we resolved (now we were in the great -road) to travel by night, so it being not yet night, he gives me the -slip again, and was not gone half-an-hour but he comes back with a -gold watch in his hand: "Come," says he, "why ain't you ready to go? I -am ready to go as soon as you will;" and with that he pulls out the -gold watch. I was amazed at such a thing as that in a country town; -but it seems there was prayers at one of the churches in the evening, -and he, placing himself as the occasion directed, found the way to be -so near the lady as to get it from her side, and walked off with it -unperceived. - -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 carry it home. "Well," says I, "you are -afraid, and you have reason. Give it me; I will venture to carry it -again." But he would not let me, but told me that when he came into -Scotland we might sell anything there without danger; which was true -indeed, for there they asked us no questions. - -We set out, as I said, in the evening by moon light, and travelled -hard, the road being very plain and large, till we came to Grantham, -by which time it was about two in the morning, and all the town, as it -were, dead asleep. So we went on for Newark, where we reached about -eight in the morning, and there we lay down and slept most of the day; -and by this sleeping so continually in the day-time I kept him from -doing a great deal of mischief, which he would otherwise have done. - -From Newark we took advice of one that was accidentally comparing the -roads, and we concluded that the road by Nottingham would be the best -for us; so we turned out of the great road, and went up the side of -the Trent to Nottingham. Here he played his pranks again in a manner -that it was the greatest wonder imaginable to me that he was not -surprised, and yet he came off clear. And now he had got so many bulky -goods that he bought him a portmanteau to carry them in. It was in -vain for me to offer to restrain him any more; so after this he went -on his own way. - -At Nottingham, I say, he had such success that made us the hastier to -be going than otherwise we would have been, lest we would have been -baulked, and should be laid hold of. From thence we left the road, -which leads to the north again, and went away by Mansfield into -Scarsdale, in Yorkshire. - -I shall take up no more of my own story with his pranks; they very -well merit to be told by themselves. But I shall observe only what -relates to our journey. In a word, I dragged him along as fast as I -could, till I came to Leeds, in Yorkshire. Here, though it be a large -and populous town, yet he could make nothing of it; neither had he any -success at Wakefield; and he told me, in short, that the north-country -people were certainly all thieves. "Why so?" said I. "The people seem -to be just as other people are." "No, no," says he; "they have their -eyes so about them, and are all so sharp, they look upon everybody -that comes near them to be a pickpocket, or else they would never -stand so upon their guard. And then again," says he, "they are so -poor, there is but little to be got; and I am afraid," says he, "the -farther we go north, we shall find it worse." "Well," says I, "what do -you infer from thence?" "I argue from thence," says he, "that we shall -do nothing there, and I had as good go back into the south and be -hanged as into the north to be starved." - -Well, we came at length to Newcastle-upon-Tyne. Here, on a market-day, -was a great throng of people, and several of the townspeople going to -market to buy provisions; and here he played his pranks, cheated a -shopkeeper of 15 or 16 in goods, and got clear away with them; stole -a horse, and sold that he came upon, and played so many pranks that I -was quite frighted for him. I say for him, for I was not concerned for -myself, having never stirred out of the house where I lodged--at least -not with him, nor without some or other with me belonging to the inn -that might give an account of me. - -Nor did I use this caution in vain; for he had made himself so public -by his rogueries that he was waylaid everywhere to be taken, and had -he not artfully at first given out that he was come from Scotland and -was going toward London, inquiring that road, and the like, which -amused his pursuers for the first day, he had been taken, and in all -probability had been hanged there. But by that artifice he got half a -day's time of them; and yet, as it was, he was put so to it that he -was fain to plunge, horse and all, into the river Tweed, and swim -over, and thereby made his escape. It was true that he was before upon -Scots ground (as they call it), and consequently they had no power to -have carried him off, if anybody had opposed them; yet, as they were -in a full chase after him, could they have come up with him they would -have run the risk of the rest, and they could but have delivered him -up if they had been questioned about it. However, as he got over the -Tweed, and was landed safe, they could neither follow him, the water -being too high at the usual place of going over, nor could they have -attempted to have brought him away if they had taken him. The place -where he took the river was where there is a ford below Kelso, but the -water being up, the ford was not passable, and he had no time to go to -the ferry-boat, which is about a furlong off, opposite to the town. - -Having thus made his escape, he went to Kelso, where he had appointed -me to come after him. I followed with a heavy heart, expecting every -hour to meet him upon the road in the custody of the constables and -such people, or to hear of him in the gaol; but when I came to a place -on the border called Woller-haugh-head, there I understood how he had -been chased, and how he made his escape. - -When I came to Kelso he was easy enough to be found; for his having -desperately swam the Tweed, a rapid and large river, made him much -talked of, though it seems they had not heard of the occasion of it, -nor anything of his character; for he had wit enough to conceal all -that, and live as retired as he could till I came to him. - -I was not so much rejoiced at his safety as I was provoked at his -conduct; and the more, for that I could not find he had yet the least -notion of his having been void of common-sense with respect to his -circumstances, as well as contrary to what he promised me. However, as -there was no beating anything into his head by words, I only told him -that I was glad he was at last gotten into a place of safety, and I -asked him then how he intended to manage himself in that country. He -said in few words he did not know yet. He doubted the people were very -poor; but if they had any money he was resolved to have some of it. - -"But do you know, too," says I, "that they are the severest people -upon criminals of your kind in the world?" He did not value that, he -said, in his blunt, short way; he would venture it. Upon this I told -him that, seeing it was so, and he would run such ventures, I would -take my leave of him and be gone back to England. He seemed sullen, or -rather it was the roughness of his untractable disposition. He said I -might do what I would, he would do as he found opportunity. However, -we did not part immediately, but went on towards the capital city. On -the road we found too much poverty and too few people to give him room -to expect any advantage in his way; and though he had his eyes about -him as sharp as a hawk, yet he saw plainly there was nothing to be -done; for as to the men, they did not seem to have much money about -them; and for the women, their dress was such that, had they any -money, or indeed any pockets, it was impossible to come at them; for, -wearing large plaids about them and down to their knees, they were -wrapped up so close that there was no coming to make the least attempt -of that kind. - -Kelso was indeed a good town, and had abundance of people in it; and -yet, though he stayed one Sunday there, and saw the church, which is -very large and thronged with people, yet, as he told me, there was not -one woman to be seen in all the church with any other dress than a -plaid, except in two pews, which belonged to some nobleman, and who, -when they came out, were so surrounded with footmen and servants that -there was no coming near them, any more than there was any coming near -the king surrounded by his guards. - -We set out, therefore, with this discouragement, which I was secretly -glad of, and went forward to Edinburgh. All the way thither we went -through no considerable town, and it was but very coarse travelling -for us, who were strangers; for we met with waters which were very -dangerous to pass, by reason of hasty rains, at a place called -Lauderdale, and where my captain was really in danger of drowning, his -horse being driven down by the stream, and fell under him, by which he -wetted and spoiled his stolen goods that he brought from Newcastle, -and which he had kept dry strangely, by holding them up in his arms -when he swam the Tweed. But here it wanted but little that he and his -horse had been lost, not so much by the depth of the water as the fury -of the current. But he had a proverb in his favour, and he got out of -the water, though with difficulty enough, not being born to be -drowned, as I shall observe afterwards in its place. - -We came to Edinburgh the third day from Kelso, having stopped at an -inn one whole day, at a place called Soutrahill, to dry our goods and -refresh ourselves. We were oddly saluted at Edinburgh. The next day -after we came thither, my captain having a desire to walk and look -about him, asked me if I would go and see the town. I told him yes; so -we went out, and coming through a gate that they call the Nether Bow, -into the great High Street, which went up to the Cross, we were -surprised to see it thronged with an infinite number of people. "Ay," -says my captain, "this will do." However, as I had made him promise to -make no adventures that day, otherwise I told him I would not go out -with him, so I held him by the sleeve, and would not let him stir from -me. - -Then we came up to the Market Cross, and there besides the great -number of people who passed and repassed, we saw a great parade or -kind of meeting, like an exchange of gentlemen, of all ranks and -qualities, and this encouraged my captain again, and he pleased -himself with that sight. - -It was while we were looking, and wondering at what we saw here, that -we were surprised with a sight which we little expected. We observed -the people running on a sudden, as to see some strange thing just -coming along; and strange it was indeed: for we see two men naked from -the waist upwards run by us as swift as the wind, and we imagined -nothing but that it was two men running a race for some mighty wager. -On a sudden we found two long, small ropes or lines, which hung down -at first, pulled straight, and the two racers stopped, and stood -still, one close by the other. We could not imagine what this meant, -but the reader may judge at our surprise when we found a man follow -after, who had the ends of both those lines in his hands, and who, -when he came up to them, gave each of them two frightful lashes with a -wire whip or lash, which he held in the other hand. And then the two -poor naked wretches run on again to the length of their line or -tether, where they waited for the like salutation; and in this -manner they danced the length of the whole street, which is about -half-a-mile. - -This was a dark prospect to my captain, and put him in mind, not only -of what he was to expect if he made a slip in the way of his -profession in this place, but also of what he had suffered when he was -but a boy, at the famous place called Bridewell. - -But this was not all; for, as we saw the execution, so we were curious -to examine into the crime too; and we asked a young fellow who stood -near us what the two men had done for which they suffered that -punishment. The fellow, an unhappy, ill-natured Scotchman, perceived -by our speech that we were Englishmen, and by our question that we -were strangers, told us, with a malicious wit, that they were two -Englishmen, and that they were whipped so for picking pockets, and -other petty thieveries, and that they were afterwards to be sent away -over the border into England. - -Now this was every word of it false, and was only formed by his nimble -invention to insult us as Englishmen; for when we inquired further, -they were both Scotchmen, and were thus scourged for the usual -offences for which we give the like punishment in England. And the man -who held the line and scourged them was the city hangman, who (by the -way) is there an officer of note, has a constant salary, and is a man -of substance; and not only so, but a most dexterous fellow in his -office, and makes a great deal of money of his employment. - -This sight, however, was very shocking to us; and my captain turned to -me: "Come," says he, "let us go away; I won't stay here any longer." I -was glad to hear him say so, but did not think he had meant or -intended what he said. However, we went back to our quarters, and kept -pretty much within, only that in the evenings we walked about. But -even then my captain found no employment, no encouragement. Two or -three times, indeed, he made a prize of some mercery and millinery -goods; but when he had them he knew not what to do with them, so that, -in short, he was forced to be honest in spite of his goodwill to be -otherwise. - -We remained here about a month, when, on a sudden, my captain was -gone, horse and all, and I 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 whither he was gone or -whether he would return to Edinburgh again or no. - -I took his leaving me very heinously, 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 make much of him; and, on the -other hand, I had a secret resolution, if I had gone back to England, -to have restored him to the owner, at Puckeridge, by Ware. And so I -should have wronged him of nothing but the use of him for so long a -time; but I found an occasion to answer all my designs about the horse -to advantage. - -There came a man to the stabler--so they call the people at Edinburgh -that take in horses to keep--and wanted to know if he could hear of -any returned horses for England. My landlord, so we called him, came -bluntly to me one day, and asked me if my horse was my own. It was an -odd question, as my circumstances stood, and puzzled me at first; and -I asked why, and what was the matter. "Because," says he, "if it be a -hired horse in England, as is often the case with Englishmen who come -to Scotland, I could help you to send it back, and get you something -for riding." So he expressed himself. - -I was very glad of the occasion, and, in short, took security there of -the person for delivering the horse safe and sound, and had 15s. -sterling for the riding him. Upon this agreement, I gave order to -leave the horse at the Falcon, at Puckeridge, and where I heard, many -years after, that he was honestly left, and that the owner had him -again, but had nothing for the loan of him. - -Being thus eased of the expense of my horse, and having nothing at all -to do, I began to consider with 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 I would not join with -my captain in his desperate attempts, yet I made no scruple to live at -his expense, which, as I came out of England only to keep him company, -had been but just, had I not known that all he had to spend upon me -was what he robbed honest people of, and that I was all that while a -receiver of stolen goods. But I was not come off so far then as to -scruple that part at all. - -In the next place, I was not so anxious about my money running low, -because I knew what a reserve I had made at London. But still I was -very willing to have engaged in any honest employment for a -livelihood, for I was sick indeed of the wandering life which I had -led, and was resolved to thieve no more. But then two or three things -which I had offered me I lost, because I could not write or read. - -This afflicted me a great while very much; but the stabler, as I have -called him, delivered me from my anxiety that way by bringing me to an -honest but a poor young man, who undertook to teach me both to write -and read, and in a little time too, and for a small expense, if I -would take pains at it. I promised all possible diligence, and to work -I went with it, but found the writing much more difficult to me than -the reading. - -However, in half a year's time, or thereabouts, I could read, and -write too, tolerably well, insomuch that I began to think I was now -fit for business. And I got by it into the service of a certain -officer of the customs, who employed me for a time; but as he set me -to do little but pass and repass between Leeds and Edinburgh, with the -accounts which he kept for the farmers of the customs there, leaving -me to live at my own expense till my wages should be due, I run out -the little money I had left, in clothes and subsistence, and a little -before the year's end, when I was to have 12 English money, truly my -master was turned out of his place; and, which was worse, having been -charged with some misapplications, was obliged to take shelter in -England, and so we that were 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 I was reduced by -it to the last extremity. I might have gone for England, an English -ship being there. The master proffered me to give me my passage (upon -telling him my distress), and to take my word for the payment of 10s. -when I came there. But my captain appeared just then under new -circumstances, which obliged him not to go away, and I was loth to -leave him. It seems we were yet further to take our fate together. - -I have mentioned that he left me, and that I saw him no more for -eighteen months. His rambles and adventures were many in that time. He -went to Glasgow, played some remarkable pranks there, escaped almost -miraculously from the gallows; got over to Ireland, wandered about -there, turned raparee, and did some villainous things there, and -escaped from Londonderry, over to the Highlands in the north of -Scotland; and about a month before I was left destitute at Leith by my -master, behold! my noble Captain Jacque came in there, on board the -ferry-boat from Fife, being, after all adventures and successes, -advanced to the dignity of a foot-soldier in a body of recruits raised -in the north for the regiment of Douglas. - -After my disaster, being reduced almost as low as my captain, I found -no better shift before me, at least 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; and I confess that thing did not sit -so ill upon me as I thought at first it would have done; for though I -fared hard and lodged ill (for the last, especially, is the fate of -poor soldiers in that part of the world), yet to me that had been used -to lodge on the ashes in the glass house, this was no great matter. I -had a secret satisfaction at being now under no necessity of stealing, -and living in fear of a prison, and of the lash of the hangman--a -thing which, from the time I saw it in Edinburgh, was so terrible to -me that I could not think of it without horror. And it was an -inexpressible ease to my mind that I was now in a certain way of -living, which was honest, and which I could say was not unbecoming a -gentleman. - -Whatever was my satisfaction in that part, yet other circumstances did -not equally concur to make this life suit me; for after we had been -about six months in this figure, we were informed that the recruits -were all to march for England, and to be shipped off at Newcastle, or -at Hull, to join the regiment, which was then in Flanders. - -I should tell you that, before this, I was extremely delighted with -the life of a soldier, and I took the exercise so naturally that the -sergeant that taught us to handle our arms, seeing me so ready at it, -asked me if I had never carried arms before. I told him no; at which -he swore, though jesting. "They call you colonel," says he, "and I -believe you will be a colonel, or you must be some colonel's bastard, -or you would never handle your arms as you do, at once or twice -showing." - -This pleased me extremely, and encouraged me, and I was mightily taken -with the life of a soldier; but when my captain came and told me the -news, that we were to march for England, and to be shipped off for -Flanders at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, I was surprised very much, and new -thoughts began to come in my mind; as, first, my captain's condition -was particular, for he durst not appear publicly at Newcastle, as he -must have done if he had marched with the battalion (for they were a -body of above four hundred, and therefore called themselves a -battalion, though we were but recruits, and belonged to several -companies abroad)--I say, he must have marched with them, and been -publicly seen, in which case he would have been apprehended and -delivered up. In the next place I remembered that I had almost 100 in -money in London, and if it should have 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 answer in -the affirmative--100 being at that time sufficient to buy colours in -any new regiment, though not in that regiment, which was on an old -establishment. This whetted my ambition, and I dreamt of nothing but -being a gentleman officer, as well as a gentleman soldier. - -These two circumstances concurring, I began to be very uneasy, and -very unwilling in my thoughts to go over a poor musqueteer into -Flanders, to be knocked on the head at the tune of 3s. 6d. a week. -While I was daily musing on the circumstances of being sent away, as -above, and considering what to do, my captain comes to me one evening: -"Hark ye, Jacque," says he, "I must speak with you; let us take a walk -in the fields a little out from the houses." We were quartered at a -place called Park End, near the town of Dunbar, about twenty miles -from Berwick-upon-Tweed, and about sixteen miles from the river Tweed, -the nearest way. - -We walked together here, and talked seriously upon the matter. The -captain told me how his case stood, and that he durst not march with -the battalion into Newcastle; that if he did he should be taken out of -the ranks and tried for his life, and that I knew as well as he. "I -could go privately to Newcastle," says he, "and go through the town -well enough, but to go publicly is to run into the jaws of -destruction." "Well," says I, "that is very true; but what will you -do?" "Do!" says he. "Do you think I am so bound by honour, as a -gentleman soldier, that I will be hanged for them? No, no," says he; -"I am resolved to be gone, and I would have you go with us." Said I, -"What do you mean by us?" "Why, here is another honest fellow, an -Englishman also," says he, "that is resolved to desert too, and he has -been a long while in their service, and says he knows how we shall be -used abroad, and he will not go to Flanders, says he, not he." - -"Why," says I, "you will be shot to death for deserters if you are -taken, and they will send out scouts for you in the morning all over -the country, so that you will certainly fall into their hands." "As -for that," says he, "my comrade is thoroughly acquainted with the way, -and he has undertaken to bring us to the banks of the Tweed before -they can come up with us; and when we are on the other side of the -Tweed, they can't take us up." - -"And when would you go away?" says I. - -"This minute," says he; "no time to be lost; 'tis a fine moonshining -night." - -"I have none of my baggage," says I; "let me go back and fetch my -linen and other things." - -"Your linen is not much, I suppose," says he, "and we shall easily get -more in England the old way." - -"No," says I, "no more of your old ways. It has been owing to those -old ways that we are now in such a strait." - -"Well, well," says he, "the old ways are better than this starving -life of a gentleman, as we call it." - -"But," says I, "we have no money in our pockets. How shall we travel?" - -"I have a little," says the captain, "enough to help us on to -Newcastle; and if we can get none by the way, we will get some -collier-ship to take us in and carry us to London by sea." - -"I like that the best of all the measures you have laid yet," said I; -and so I consented to go, and went off with him immediately. The -cunning rogue, having lodged his comrade a mile off under the hills, -had dragged me by talking with him, by little and little, that way, -till just when I consented he was in sight, and he said, "Look, -there's my comrade!" who I knew presently, having seen him among the -men. - -Being thus gotten under the hills, and a mile off the way, and the day -just shut in, we kept on apace, resolving, if possible, to get out of -the reach of our pursuers before they should miss us or know anything -of our being gone. - -We plied our time so well and travelled so hard that by five o'clock -in the morning, we were at a little village whose name I forget; but -they told us that we were within eight miles of the Tweed, and that as -soon as we should be over the river we were on English ground. - -We refreshed a little here, but marched on with but little stay. -However, it was half-an-hour past eight in the morning before we -reached the Tweed, so it was at least twelve miles, when they told us -it was but eight. Here we overtook two more of the same regiment, who -had deserted from Haddington, where another part of the recruits were -quartered. - -Those were Scotchmen, and very poor, having not one penny in their -pockets, and had no more when they made their escape but 8s. between -them. And when they saw us, whom they knew to be of the same regiment -they took us to be pursuers, and that we came to lay hold of them; -upon which they stood upon their defence, having the regiment swords -on, as we had also, but none of the mounting or clothing; for we were -not to receive the clothing till we came to the regiment in Flanders. - -It was not long before we made them understand that we were in the -same circumstances with themselves, and so we soon became one company; -and after resting some time on the English side of the river (for we -were heartily tired, and the others were as much fatigued as we -were)--I say, after resting awhile, we set forwards towards Newcastle, -whither we resolved to go to get our passage by sea to London; for we -had not money to hold us out any farther. - -Our money was ebbed very low; for though I had one piece of gold in my -pocket, which I kept reserved for the last extremity, yet it was but -half-a-guinea, and my captain had bore all our charges as far as his -money would go, so that when we came to Newcastle we had but sixpence -left in all to help ourselves, and the two Scots had begged their way -all along the road. - -We contrived to come into Newcastle in the dusk of the evening, and -even then we durst not venture into the public part of the town, but -made down towards the river, something below the town, where some -glass-houses stand. Here we knew not what to do with ourselves; but, -guided by our fate, we put a good face upon the matter, and went into -an alehouse, sat down, and called for a pint of beer. - -The house was kept by a woman only--that is to say, we saw no other; -and as she appeared very frank and entertained us cheerfully, we at -last told our condition, and asked her if she could not help us to -some kind master of a collier that would give us a passage to London -by sea. The subtle devil, who immediately found us proper fish for her -hook, gave us the kindest 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 particular acquaintance, that went away but -with the morning tide; that the ship was fallen down to Shields, but -she believed was hardly over the bar yet, and she would send to his -house and see if he was gone on board; for sometimes the 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 her to send to his house, for we knew not what to do, and if -she could oblige him to take us on board, we did not care what time of -night it was; for, as we had no money, we had no lodging, and we -wanted nothing but to be on board. - -We looked upon this as a mighty favour, that she sent to the master's -house, and, to our greater 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 the way home. - -This was all in our favour, and we were extremely pleased with it. -About an hour after, the landlady being in the room with us, her maid -brings us word the master was below. So down she goes to him, telling -us she would go and tell him our case, and see to persuade him to take -us all on board. After some time she comes up with him, and brings him -into the room to us. "Where are these honest gentlemen soldiers," says -he, "that are in such distress?" We stood all up, and paid our -respects to him. "Well, gentlemen, 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 will be very -willing to do anything we can in the ship, though we are not seamen." - -"Why," says he, "were none of you ever at sea in your lives?" - -"No," says we, "not one of us." - -"You will be able to do me no service, then," says he; "for you will -be all sick. Well, however," says he, "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 this very night?" - -"Yes, sir," says we again; "we are ready to go this minute." - -"No, no," says he very kindly; "we'll drink together. Come, landlady," -says he, "make these honest gentlemen a sneaker of punch." - -We looked at one another, for we knew we had no money, and he -perceived it. "Come, come," says he, "don't be concerned at your -having no money; my landlady here and I never part with dry lips. -Come, goodwife," says he, "make the punch as I bid you." - -We thanked him and said, "God bless you, noble captain," a hundred -times over, being overjoyed with such good luck. While we were -drinking the punch he calls the landlady: "Come," says he, "I'll step -home and take my things, and bid them good-bye, and order the boat to -come at high water and take me up here. And pray, goodwife," says he, -"get me something for supper. Sure, if I can give these honest men -their passage, I may give them a bit of victuals too; it may be they -han't had much for dinner." - -With this away he went, and in a little while we heard the jack -a-going; and one of us, going down stairs for a spy, brought us word -there was a good leg of mutton at the fire. In less than an hour our -captain came again, and came up to us, and blamed us that we had not -drank all the punch out. "Come," says he, "don't be bashful; when that -is out we can have another. When I am obliging poor men, I love to do -it handsomely." - -We drank on, and drank the punch out, and more was brought up, and he -pushed it about apace; and then came up a leg of mutton, and I need -not say that we ate heartily, being told several times that we should -pay nothing. After supper was done he bids my landlady ask if the boat -was come. And she brought word no; it was not high water by a good -deal. "No!" says he. "Well, then, give us some more punch." So more -punch was brought in, and, as was afterwards confessed, something was -put into it, or more brandy than ordinary, and by that time the punch -was drunk out we were all very drunk; and as for me, I was asleep. - -About the time that was out we were told the boat was come; so we -tumbled out, almost over one another, into the boat, and away we went, -and our captain in the boat. 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 waked 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, we were all gotten into the ship. All I remember of it -was this, that as soon as we were on board our captain, as we called -him, called out thus: "Here, boatswain, take care of these gentlemen, -and give them good cabins, and let them turn in and go to sleep, for -they are very weary;" and so indeed we were, and very drunk too, being -the first time I had ever drank punch in my life. - -Well, 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 meantime the ship, which was indeed just ready to go, and only on -notice given had come to an anchor for us at Shields, weighed, stood -over the bar, and went off to sea; and when we waked, 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 we understood -it. We were very well used and well satisfied with our condition for -about three days, when we began to inquire whether we were not almost -come, and how much longer it would be before we should come into the -river. "What river?" says one of the men. "Why, the Thames," says my -Captain Jacque. "The Thames!" says the seaman. "What do you mean by -that? What, han't you had time enough to be sober yet?" So Captain -Jacque said no more, but looked about him like a fool; when, a while -after, some other of us asked the like question, and the seaman, who -knew nothing of the cheat, began to smell a trick, and turning to the -other Englishman that came with us, "Pray," says he, "where do you -fancy you are going, that you ask so often about it?" "Why, to -London," says he. "Where should we be going? We agreed with the -captain to carry us to London." "Not with the captain," says he, "I -dare say. Poor men! you are all cheated; and I thought so when I saw -you come aboard with that kidnapping rogue Gilliman. Poor men!" adds -he, "you are all be trayed. Why, you are going to Virginia, and the -ship is bound to Virginia." - -The Englishman falls a-storming and raving like a madman, and we -gathering round him, let any man guess, if they can, what was our -surprise and how we were confounded when we were told how it was. In -short, we drew our swords and began to lay about us, and made such a -noise and hurry in the ship that at last the seamen were obliged to -call out for help. The captain commanded us to be disarmed in the -first place, which was not, however, done without giving and receiving -some wounds, and afterwards he caused us to be brought to him into the -great cabin. - -Here he talked very calmly to us, that he was really very sorry for -what had befallen us; that he perceived we had been trepanned, and -that the fellow who had brought us on board was a rogue that was -employed by a sort of wicked merchants not unlike himself; that he -supposed he had been represented to us as captain of the ship, and -asked us if it was not so. We told him yes, and gave him a large -account of ourselves, and how we came to the woman's house to inquire -for some master of a collier to get a passage to London, and that this -man engaged to carry us to London in his own ship, and the like, as is -related above. - -He told us he was very sorry for it, and he had no hand in it; but it -was out of his power to help us, and let us know very plainly what our -condition was; namely, that we were put on board his ship as servants -to be delivered at Maryland to such a man, whom he named to us; but -that, however, if we would be quiet and orderly in the ship, he would -use us well in the passage, and take care we should be used well when -we came there, and that he would do anything for us that lay in his -power; but if we were unruly and refractory, we could not expect but -he must take such measures as to oblige us to be satisfied; and that, -in short, we must be handcuffed, carried down between the decks and -kept as prisoners, for it was his business to take care that no -disturbance must be in the ship. - -My captain raved like a madman, swore at the captain, told him he -would not fail to cut his throat, either on board or ashore, whenever -he came within his reach; and that, if he could not do it now, he -would do it after he came to England again, if ever he durst show his -face there again. For he might depend upon it, if he was carried away -to Virginia, he should find his way to England again; that, if it was -twenty years after, he would have satisfaction of him. "Well, young -man," says the captain, smiling, "'tis very honestly said, and then I -must take care of you while I have you here, and afterwards I must -take care of myself." "Do your worst," says Jacque boldly; "I'll pay -you home for it one time or other." "I must venture that, young man," -says he, still calmly, "but for the present you and I must talk a -little;" so he bids the boatswain, who stood near him, secure him, -which he did. I spoke to him to be easy and patient, and that the -captain had no hand in our misfortune. - -"No hand in it! D--n him," said he aloud, "do you think he is not -confederate in this villainy? Would any honest man receive innocent -people on board his ship and not inquire of their circumstances, but -carry them away and not speak to them? And now he knows how -barbarously we are treated, why does he not set us on shore again? I -tell you he is a villain, and none but him. Why does he not complete -his villainy and murder us, and then he will be free from our revenge? -But nothing else shall ever deliver him from my hands but sending us -to the d--l, or going thither himself; and I am honester in telling -him so fairly than he has been to me, and am in no passion any more -than he is." - -The captain was, I say, a little shocked at his boldness, for he -talked a great deal more of the same kind, with a great deal of spirit -and fire, and yet without any disorder in his temper. Indeed I was -surprised at it, for I never had heard him talk so well and so much to -the purpose in my life. The captain was, I say, a little shocked at -it. However, he talked very handsomely to him, and said to him, "Look -ye, young man, I bear with you the more because I am sensible your -case is very hard; and yet I cannot allow your threatening me neither, -and you oblige me by that to be severer with you than I intended. -However, I will do nothing to you but what your threatening my life -makes necessary." The boatswain called out to have him to the geers, -as they called it, and to have him taste the cat-o'-nine-tails--all -which were terms we did not understand till afterwards, when we were -told he should have been whipped and pickled, for they said it was not -to be suffered. But the captain said, "No, no; the young man has been -really injured, and has reason to be very much provoked; but I have -not injured him," says he. And then he protested he had no hand in it, -that he was put on board, and we also, by the owner's agent, and for -their account; that it was true that they did always deal in servants, -and carried a great many every voyage, but that it was no profit to -him as commander; but they were always put on board by the owners, and -that it was none of his business to inquire about them; and, to prove -that he was not concerned in it, but was very much troubled at so base -a thing, and that he would not be instrumental to carry us away -against our wills, if the wind and the weather would permit, he would -set us on shore again, though, as it blowed then, the wind being at -south-west and a hard gale, and that they were already as far as the -Orkneys, it was impossible. - -But the captain was the same man. He told him that, let the wind blow -how it would, he ought not to carry us away against our consent; and -as to his pretences of his owners and the like, it was saying of -nothing to him, for it was he, the captain, that carried us away, and -that, whatever rogue trepanned us on board, now he knew it, he ought -no more to carry us away than murder us; and that he demanded to be -set on shore, or else he, the captain, was a thief and a murderer. - -The captain continued mild still; and then I put in with an argument -that had like to have brought us all back, if the weather had not -really hindered it; which, when I came to understand sea affairs -better, I found was indeed so, and that it had been impossible. I told -the captain that I was sorry that my brother was so warm, but that our -usage was villainous, which he could not deny. Then I took up the air -of what my habit did not agree with. I told him that we were not -people to be sold for slaves, that though we had the misfortune to be -in a circumstance that obliged us to conceal ourselves, having -disguised ourselves to get out of the army, as being not willing to go -into Flanders, yet that we were men of substance, and able to -discharge ourselves from the service when it came to that; and, to -convince him of it, I told him I would give him sufficient security to -pay 20 apiece for my brother and myself; and in as short time as we -could send from the place he should put into London, and receive a -return. And, to show that I was able to do it, I pulled out my bill -for 94 from the gentleman of the custom-house, and who, to my -infinite satisfaction, he knew as soon as he saw the bill. He was -astonished at this, and, lifting up his hands, "By what witchcraft," -says he, "were ye brought hither!" - -"As to that," says I, "we have told you the story, and we add nothing -to it; but we insist upon it that you will do this justice to us now." -"Well," says he, "I am very sorry for it, but I cannot answer putting -back the ship; neither, if I could," says he, "is it practicable to be -done." - -While this discourse lasted the two Scotchmen and the other Englishman -were silent; but as I seemed to acquiesce, the Scotchmen began to talk -to the same purpose, which I need not repeat, and had not mentioned -but for a merry passage that followed. After the Scotchmen had -said all they could, and the captain still told them they must -submit,--"And will you then carry us to Virginia?" "Yes," says the -captain. "And will we be sold," says the Scotchman, "when we come -there?" "Yes," says the captain. "Why then, sir," says the Scotchman, -"the devil will have you at the hinder end of the bargain." "Say you -so," says 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, and you shall be used as kindly, both here and there too, as I -can." The poor Scotchmen could say little to it, nor I, nor any of us; -for we saw there was no remedy but to leave the devil and the captain -to agree among themselves, as the captain had said, as to the honesty -of it. - -Thus, in short, we were all, I say, obliged to acquiesce but my -captain, who was so much the more obstinate when he found that I had a -fund to make such an offer upon; nor could all my persuasions prevail -with him. The captain of the ship and he had many pleasant dialogues -about this in the rest of the voyage, in which Jacque never treated -him with any language but that of kidnapper and villain, nor talked of -anything but of taking his revenge of him. But I omit that part, -though very diverting, as being no part of my own story. - -In short, the wind continued to blow hard, though very fair, till, as -the seamen said, we were past the islands on the north of Scotland, -and that we began to steer away westerly (which I came to understand -since). As there was no land any way for many hundred leagues, so we -had no remedy but patience, and to be easy as we could; only my surly -Captain Jacque continued the same man all the way. - -We had a very good voyage, no storms all the way, and a northerly wind -almost twenty days together; so that, in a word, we made the capes of -Virginia in two-and-thirty days from the day we steered west, as I -have said, which was in the latitude of 60 degrees 30 minutes, being -to the north of the isle of Great Britain; and this, they said, was a -very quick passage. - -Nothing material happened to me during the voyage; and indeed, when I -came there, I was obliged to act in so narrow a compass that nothing -very material could present itself. - -When we came ashore, which was in a great river which they call -Potomac, the captain asked us, but me more particularly, whether I had -anything to propose to him now. Jacque answered, "Yes, I have -something to propose to you, captain; that is, that I have promised -you to cut your throat, and depend upon it I will be as good as my -word." "Well, well," says the captain, "if I can't help it, you -shall;" so he turned away to me. I understood him very well what he -meant; but I was now out of the reach of any relief; and as for my -note, it was now but a bit of paper of no value, for nobody could -receive it but myself. I saw no remedy, and so talked coldly to him of -it as of a thing I was indifferent about; and indeed I was grown -indifferent, for I considered all the way on the voyage, that as I was -bred a vagabond, had been a pickpocket and a soldier, and was run from -my colours, and that I had no settled abode in the world, nor any -employ to get anything by, except that wicked one I was bred to, which -had the gallows at the heels of it, I did not see but that this -service might be as well to me as other business. And this I was -particularly satisfied with when they told me that after I had served -out the five years' servitude I should have the courtesy of the -country (as they called it); that is, a certain quantity of land to -cultivate and plant for myself. So that now I was like to be brought -up to something by which I might live, without that wretched thing -called stealing, which my very soul abhorred, and which I had given -over, as I have said, ever since that wicked time that I robbed the -poor widow of Kentish Town. - -In this mind I was when I arrived at Virginia; and so, when the -captain inquired of me what I intended to do, and whether I had -anything to propose--that is to say, he meant whether I would give him -my bill, which he wanted to be fingering very much--I answered coldly, -my bill would be of no use to me now, for nobody would advance -anything upon it. Only this I would say to him, that if he would carry -me and Captain Jacque back to England, and to London again, I would -pay him the 20 off my bill for each of us. This he had no mind to; -"for, as to your brother," says he, "I would not take him into my ship -for twice 20, he is such a hardened, desperate villain," says he; "I -should be obliged to carry him in irons as I brought him hither." - -Thus we parted with our captain or kidnapper, call him as you will. We -were then delivered to the merchants to whom we were consigned, who -again disposed of us as they thought fit; and in a few days we were -separated. - -As for my Captain Jacque, to make short of the story, that desperate -rogue had the luck to have a very easy, good master, whose easiness -and good humour he abused very much; and, in particular, took an -opportunity to run away with a boat which his master entrusted him and -another with to carry some provisions down the river to another -plantation which he had there. This boat and provisions they ran away -with, and sailed north to the bottom of the bay, as they call it, and -into a river called Susquehanna, and there quitting the boat, they -wandered through the woods, till they came to Pennsylvania, from -whence they made shift to get passage to New England, and from thence -home; where, falling in among his old companions and to the 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 disposed of, that is to say, sold, to a rich planter -whose name was Smith, and with me the other Englishman, who was my -fellow-deserter, that Jacque brought me to when we went off from -Dunbar. - -We were now fellow-servants, and it was our lot to be carried up a -small river or creek which falls into Potomac river, about eight miles -from the great river. Here we were brought to the plantation, and put -in among about fifty servants, as well negroes as others; and being -delivered to the head man, or director, or manager of the plantation, -he took care to let us know that we must expect to work, and very hard -too; for it was for that purpose his master bought servants, and for -no other. I told him, very submissively, that since it was our -misfortune to come into such a miserable condition as we were in, we -expected no other; only we desired we might be showed our business, -and be allowed to learn it gradually, since he might be sure we had -not been used to labour; and I added that when he knew particularly by -what methods we were brought and betrayed into such a condition, he -would perhaps see cause at least to show us that favour, if not more. -This I spoke with such a moving tone as gave him a curiosity to -inquire into the particulars of our story, which I gave him at large, -a little more to our advantage, too, than ordinary. - -This story, as I hoped it would, did move him to a sort of tenderness; -but yet he told us that his master's business must be done, and that -he expected we must work as above; that he could not dispense with -that upon any account whatever. Accordingly, to work we went; and -indeed we had three hard things attending us; namely, we worked hard, -lodged hard, and fared hard. The first I had been an utter stranger -to; the last I could shift well enough with. - -During this scene of life I had time to reflect on my past hours, and -upon what I had done in the world; and though I had no great capacity -of making a clear judgment, and very little reflections from -conscience, yet it made some impressions upon me; and particularly, -that I was brought into this miserable condition of a slave by some -strange directing power as a punishment for the wickedness of my -younger years; and this thought was increased upon the following -occasion. The master whose service I was now engaged in was a man of -substance and figure in the country, and had abundance of servants, as -well negroes as English; in all, I think, he had near two hundred; and -among so many, as some grew every year infirm and unable to work, -others went off upon their time being expired, and others died; and by -these and other accidents the number would diminish, if they were not -often recruited and filled, and this obliged him to buy more every -year. - -It happened while I was here that a ship arrived from London with -several servants, and among the rest was seventeen transported felons, -some burnt in the hand, others not; eight of whom my master bought for -the time specified in the warrant for their transportation -respectively, some for a longer, some a shorter, term of years. - -Our master was a great man in the country, and a justice of peace, -though he seldom came down to the plantation where I was. Yet, as the -new servants were brought on shore and delivered at our plantation, -his worship came thither, in a kind of state, to see and receive them. -When they were brought before him I was called, among other servants, -as a kind of guard, to take them into custody after he had seen them, -and carry them to the work. They were brought by a guard of seamen -from the ship, and the second mate of the ship came with them, and -delivered them to our master, with the warrant for their -transportation, as above. - -When his worship had read over the warrants, he called them over by -their names, one by one, and having let them know, by his reading the -warrants over again to each man respectively, that he knew for what -offences they were transported, he talked to every one separately very -gravely; let them know how much favour they had received in being -saved from the gallows, which the law had appointed for their crimes; -that they were not sentenced to be transported, but to be hanged, and -that transportation was granted them upon their own request and humble -petition. - -Then he laid before them that they ought to look upon the life they -were just going to enter upon as just beginning the world again; that -if they thought fit to be diligent and sober, they would, after the -time they were ordered to serve was expired, be encouraged by the -constitution of the country to settle and plant for themselves; and -that even he himself would be so kind to them, that if he lived to see -any of them serve their time faithfully out, it was his custom to -assist his servants in order to their settling in that country, -according as their behaviour might merit from him; and they would see -and know several planters round about them who now were in very good -circumstances, and who formerly were only his servants, in the same -condition with them, and came from the same place--that is to say, -Newgate; and some of them had the mark of it in their hands, but were -now very honest men and lived in very good repute. - -Among the rest of his new servants, he came to a young fellow not -above seventeen or eighteen years of age, and his warrant mentions -that he was, though a young man, yet an old offender; that he had been -several times condemned, but had been respited or pardoned, but still -he continued an incorrigible pickpocket; that the crime for which he -was now transported was for picking a merchant's pocket-book, or -letter-case, out of his pocket, in which was bills of exchange for a -very great sum of money; that he had afterwards received the money -upon some of the bills, but that going to a goldsmith in Lombard -Street with another bill, and having demanded the money, he was -stopped, notice having been given of the loss of them; that he was -condemned to die for the felony, and being so well known for an old -offender, had certainly died, but the merchant, upon his earnest -application, had obtained that he should be transported, on condition -that he restored all the rest of his bills, which he had done -accordingly. - -Our master talked a long time to this young fellow; mentioned, with -some surprise, that he so young should have followed such a wicked -trade so long as to obtain the name of an old offender at so young an -age; and that he should be styled incorrigible, which is to signify -that notwithstanding his being whipped two or three times, and several -times punished by imprisonment, and once burnt in the hand, yet -nothing would do him any good, but that he was still the same. He -talked mighty religiously to this boy, and told him God had not only -spared him from the gallows, but had now mercifully delivered him from -the opportunity of committing the same sin again, and put it into his -power to live an honest life, which perhaps he knew not how to do -before; and though some part of his life now might be laborious, yet -he ought to look on it to be no more than being put out apprentice to -an honest trade, in which, when he came out of his time, he might be -able to set up for himself and live honestly. - -Then he told him that while he was a servant he would have no -opportunity to be dishonest; so when he came to be for himself he -would have no temptation to it; and so, after a great many other kind -things said to him and the rest, they were dismissed. - -I was exceedingly moved at this discourse of our master's, as anybody -would judge I must be, when it was directed to such a young rogue, -born a thief, and bred up a pickpocket, like myself; for I thought all -my master said was spoken to me, and sometimes it came into my head -that sure my master was some extraordinary man, and he knew all things -that ever I had done in my life. - -But I was surprised to the last degree when my master, dismissing -all the rest of us servants, pointed at me, and speaking to his -head-clerk, "Here," says he, "bring that young fellow hither to me." - -I had been near a year in the work, and I had plied it so well that -the clerk, or headman, either flattered me or did really believe that -I behaved very well. But I was terribly frighted to hear myself called -out aloud, just as they used to call for such as had done some -misdemeanour, and were to be lashed or otherwise corrected. - -I came in like a malefactor indeed, and thought I looked like one just -taken in the fact and carried before the justice; and indeed when I -came in, for I was carried into an inner room or parlour in the house -to him (his discourse to the rest was in a large hall, where he sat in -a seat like a lord judge upon the bench, or a petty king upon his -throne); when I came in, I say, he ordered his man to withdraw, and I -standing half naked and bare-headed, with my haugh, or hoe, in my hand -(the posture and figure I was in at my work), near the door, he bade -me lay down my hoe and come nearer. Then he began to look a little -less stern and terrible than I fancied him to look before, or, -perhaps, both his countenance then and before might be to my -imagination differing from what they really were; for we do not always -judge those things by the real temper of the person, but by the -measure of our apprehensions. - -"Hark ye, young man, how old are you?" says my master; and so our -dialogue began. - -_Jacque_. Indeed, sir, I do not know. - -_Mast_. What is your name? - -_Jacque_. They call me Colonel[4] here, but my name is Jacque, an't -please your worship. - -_Mast_. But prithee, what is thy name? - -_Jacque_. Jacque. - -_Mast_. What! is thy Christian name, then, Colonel, and thy surname -Jacque? - -_Jacque_. Truly, sir, to tell your honour the truth, I know little or -nothing of myself,[5] nor what my true name is; but thus I have been -called ever since I remember. Which is my Christian name, or which my -surname, or whether I was ever christened or not, I cannot tell. - -_Mast_. Well, however, that's honestly answered. Pray, how came you -hither, and on what account are you made a servant here? - -_Jacque_. I wish your honour could have patience with me to hear the -whole story; it is the hardest and most unjust thing that ever came -before you. - -_Mast_. Say you so? Tell it me at large, then. I'll hear it, I promise -that, if it be an hour long. - -This encouraged me, and I began at being a soldier, and being -persuaded to desert at Dunbar, and gave him all the particulars, as -they are related above, to the time of my coming on shore and the -captain talking to me about my bill after I arrived here. He held up -his hands several times as I went on, expressing his abhorrence of the -usage I had met with at Newcastle, and inquired the name of the master -of the ship; "for," said he, "that captain, for all his smooth words, -must be a rogue." So I told him his name, and the name of the ship, -and he took it down in his book, and then he went on. - -_Mast_. But pray answer me, honestly too, to another question: What -was it made you so much concerned at my talking to the boy there, the -pickpocket? - -_Jacque_. An't please your honour, it moved me to hear you talk so -kindly to a poor slave. - -_Mast_. And was that all? Speak truly now. - -_Jacque_. No, indeed; but a secret wish came into my thoughts, that -you, that were so good to such a creature as that, could but one way -or other know my case, and that if you did, you would certainly pity -me, and do something for me. - -_Mast_. Well, but was there nothing in his case that hit your own, -that made you so affected with it; for I saw tears come from your eyes -and it was that made me call to speak to you? - -_Jacque_. Indeed, sir, I have been a wicked, idle boy, and was left -desolate in the world; but that boy is a thief, and condemned to be -hanged. I never was before a court of justice in my life. - -_Mast_. Well, I won't examine you too far. If you were never before a -court of justice, and are not a criminal transported, I have nothing -further to inquire of you. You have been ill used, that's certain; and -was it that that affected you? - -_Jacque_. Yes, indeed, please your honour. (We all called him his -honour, or his worship.) - -_Mast_. Well, now I do know your case, what can I do for you? You -speak of a bill of 94 of which you would have given the captain 40 -for your liberty; have you that bill in your keeping still? - -_Jacque_. Yes, sir; here it is. - -I pulled it out of the waistband of my drawers, where I always found -means to preserve it, wrapped up in a piece of paper, and pinned to -the waistband, and yet almost worn out, too, with often pinning and -removing. So I gave it to him to read, and he read it. - -_Mast_. And is this gentleman in being that gave you the bill? - -_Jacque_. Yes, sir; he was alive and in good health when I came from -London, which you may see by the date of the bill, for I came away the -next day. - -_Mast_. I do not wonder that the captain of the ship was willing to -get this bill of you when you came on shore here. - -_Jacque_. I would have given it into his possession if he would have -carried me and my brother back again to England, and have taken what -he asked for us out of it. - -_Mast_. Ay; but he knew better than that, too. He knew, if he had any -friends there, they would call him to an account for what he had done. -But I wonder he did not take it from you while you were at sea, either -by fraud or by force. - -_Jacque_. He did not attempt that indeed. - -_Mast_. Well, young man, I have a mind to try if I can do you any -service in this case. On my word, if the money can be paid, and you -can get it safe over, I might put you in a way how to be a better man -than your master, if you will be honest and diligent. - -_Jacque_. As I have behaved myself in your service, sir, you will, I -hope, judge of the rest. - -_Mast_. But perhaps you hanker after returning to England? - -_Jacque_. No, indeed, sir; if I can but get my bread honestly here, I -have no mind to go to England; for I know not how to get my bread -there. If I had, I had not 'listed for a soldier. - -_Mast_. Well, but I must ask you some questions about that part -hereafter; for 'tis indeed something strange that you should list for -a soldier when you had 94 in your pocket. - -_Jacque_. I shall give your worship as particular account of that as I -have of the other part of my life, if you please; but 'tis very long. - -_Mast_. Well, we will have that another time. But to the case in hand. -Are you willing I should send to anybody at London to talk with that -gentleman that gave you the bill; not to take the money of him, but to -ask him only whether he has so much money of yours in his hands, and -whether he will part with it when you shall give order, and send the -bill, or a duplicate of it; that is (says he) the copy? (And it was -well he did say so, for I did not understand the word duplicate at -all.) - -_Jacque_. Yes, sir; I will give you the bill itself, if you please. I -can trust it with you, though I could not with him. - -_Mast_. No, no, young man, I won't take it from you. - -_Jacque_. I wish your worship would please to keep it for me, for if I -should lose it, then I am quite undone. - -_Mast_. I will keep it for you, Jacque, if you will; but then you -shall have a note under my hand, signifying that I have it, and will -return it you upon demand, which will be as safe to you as the bill. I -won't take it else. - -So I gave my master the bill, and he gave me his note for it; and he -was a faithful steward for me, as you will hear in its place. After -this conference I was dismissed, and went to my work; but about two -hours after, the steward, or the overseer of the plantation, came -riding by, and coming up to me as I was at work, pulled a bottle out -of his pocket, and calling me to him, gave me a dram of rum. When, in -good manners, I had taken but a little sup, he held it out to me -again, and bade me take another, and spoke wondrous civilly to me, -quite otherwise than he used to do. - -This encouraged me and heartened me very much, but yet I had no -particular view of anything, or which way I should have any relief. - -A day or two after, when we were all going out to our work in the -morning, the overseer called me to him again, and gave me a dram and a -good piece of bread, and bade me come off from my work about one -o'clock, and come to him to the house, for he must speak with me. - -When I came to him, I came, to be sure, in the ordinary habit of a -poor half-naked slave. "Come hither, young man," says he, "and give me -your hoe." When I gave it him, "Well," says he, "you are to work no -more in this plantation." - -I looked surprised, and as if I was frighted. "What have I done, sir?" -said I; "and whither am I to be sent away?" - -"Nay, nay," says he, and looked very pleasantly, "do not be frighted; -'tis for your good; 'tis not to hurt you. I am ordered to make an -overseer of you, and you shall be a slave no longer." - -"Alas!" says I to him, "I an overseer! I am in no condition for it. I -have no clothes to put on, no linen, nothing to help myself." - -"Well, well," says he, "you may be better used than you are aware of. -Come hither with me." So he led me into a vast, great warehouse, or, -rather, set of warehouses, one within another, and calling the -warehouse-keeper, "Here," says he, "you must clothe this man, and give -him everything necessary, upon the foot of number five, and give the -bill to me. Our master has ordered me to allow it in the account of -the west plantation." That was, it seems, the plantation where I was -to go. - -Accordingly, the warehouse-keeper carried me into an inner warehouse, -where were several suits of clothes of the sort his orders mentioned, -which were plain but good sorts of clothes, ready made, being of a -good broadcloth, about 11s. a yard in England; and with this he gave -me three good shirts, two pair of shoes, stockings, and gloves, a hat, -six neckcloths, and, in short, everything I could want; and when he -had looked everything out, and fitted them, he lets me into a little -room by itself. "Here," says he; "go in there a slave, and come out a -gentleman;" and with that carried everything into the room, and, -shutting the door, bid me put them on, which I did most willingly; and -now you may believe that I began to hope for something better than -ordinary. - -In a little while after this came the overseer, and gave me joy of my -new clothes, and told me I must go with him. So I was carried to -another plantation, larger than that where I worked before, and where -there were two overseers or clerks; one within doors, and one without. -This last was removed to another plantation, and I was placed there in -his room (that is to say, as the clerk without doors), and my business -was to look after the servants and negroes, and take care that they -did their business, provide their food, and, in short, both govern and -direct them. - -I was elevated to the highest degree in my thoughts at this -advancement, and it is impossible for me to express the joy of my mind -upon this occasion; but there came a difficulty upon me, that shocked -me so violently and went so against my very nature that I really had -almost forfeited my place about it, and, in all appearance, the favour -of our master, who had been so generous to me; and this was, that when -I entered upon my office, I had a horse given me and a long horsewhip, -like what we call in England a hunting-whip. The horse was to ride up -and down all over the plantation, to see the servants and negroes did -their work; and, the plantation being so large, it could not be done -on foot, at least so often and so effectively as was required; and the -horsewhip was given me to correct and lash the slaves and servants -when they proved negligent or quarrelsome, or, in short, were guilty -of any offence. This part turned the very blood within my veins, and I -could not think of it with any temper, that I, who was but yesterday a -servant or slave like them, and under the authority of the same lash, -should lift up my hand to the cruel work which was my terror but the -day before. This, I say, I could not do; insomuch that the negroes -perceived it, and I had soon so much contempt upon my authority that -we were all in disorder. - -The ingratitude of their return for the compassion I showed them -provoked me, I confess, and a little hardened my heart; and I began -with the negroes, two of whom I was obliged to correct; and I thought -I did it most cruelly; but after I had lashed them till every blow I -struck them hurt myself and I was ready to faint at the work, the -rogues laughed at me, and one of them had the impudence to say, behind -my back, that, if he had the whipping of me, he would show me better -how to whip a negro. - -Well, however, I had no power to do it in such a barbarous manner as I -found it was necessary to have it done; and the defect began to be a -detriment to our master's business. And now I began indeed to see that -the cruelty so much talked of, used in Virginia and Barbados, and -other colonies, in whipping the negro slaves, was not so much owing to -the tyranny and passion and cruelty of the English, as had been -reported, the English not being accounted to be of a cruel -disposition, and really are not so; but that it is owing to the -brutality and obstinate temper of the negroes, who cannot be managed -by kindness and courtesy, but must be ruled with a rod of iron, beaten -with scorpions, as the Scripture calls it, and must be used as they do -use them, or they would rise and murder all their masters; which, -their numbers considered, would not be hard for them to do, if they -had arms and ammunition suitable to the rage and cruelty of their -nature. - -But I began to see at the same time that this brutal temper of the -negroes was not rightly managed; that they did not take the best -course with them to make them sensible, either of mercy or punishment; -and it was evident to me that even the worst of those tempers might be -brought to a compliance without the lash, or at least without so much -of it as they generally inflicted. - -Our master was really a man of humanity himself, and was sometimes so -full of tenderness that he would forbid the severities of his -overseers and stewards; but he saw the necessity of it, and was -obliged at last to leave it to the discretion of his upper servants. -Yet he would often bid them be merciful, and bid them consider the -difference of the constitution of the bodies of the negroes, some -being less able to bear the tortures of their punishment than others, -and some of them less obstinate, too, than others. - -However, somebody was so officious as to inform him against me upon -this occasion, and let him know that I neglected his affairs, and that -the servants were under no government; by which means his plantation -was not duly managed, and that all things were in disorder. - -This was a heavy charge for a young overseer, and his honour came like -a judge, with all his attendants, to look into things and hear the -cause. However, he was so just to me as that, before he censured me, -he resolved to hear me fully, and that not only publicly, but in -private too. And the last part of this was my particular good fortune; -for, as he had formerly allowed me to speak to him with freedom, so I -had the like freedom now, and had full liberty to explain and defend -myself. - -I knew nothing of the complaint against me till I had it from his own -mouth, nor anything of his coming till I saw him in the very -plantation, viewing his work, and viewing the several pieces of ground -that were ordered to be new planted; and after he had rode all round, -and seen things in the condition which they were to be seen in, how -every thing was in its due order, and the servants and negroes were -all at work, and everything appearing to his mind, he went into the -house. - -As I saw him come up the walks I ran towards him and made my homage, -and gave him my humble thanks for the goodness he had showed me in -taking me from the miserable condition I was in before, and employing -and entrusting me in his business; and he looked pleasant enough, -though he did not say much at first; and I attended him through the -whole plantation, gave him an account of everything as we went along, -answered all his objections and inquiries everywhere in such a manner -as it seems he did not expect; and, as he acknowledged afterwards, -everything was very much to his satisfaction. - -There was an overseer, as I observed, belonging to the same -plantation, who was, though not over me, yet in a work superior to -mine; for his business was to see the tobacco packed up and deliver it -either on board the sloops or otherwise, as our master ordered, and to -receive English goods from the grand warehouse, which was at the other -plantation, because that was nearest the water-side; and, in short, to -keep the accounts. - -This overseer, an honest and upright man, made no complaint to him of -his business being neglected, as above, or of anything like it, though -he inquired of him about it, and that very strictly, too. - -I should have said, that as he rid over the plantation, he came in his -round to the place where the servants were usually corrected when they -had done any fault; and there stood two negroes, with their hands tied -behind them, as it were under sentence; and when he came near them -they fell on their knees and made pitiful signs to him for mercy. -"Alas! alas!" says he, turning to me, "why did you bring me this way? -I do not love such sights. What must I do now? I must pardon them; -prithee, what have they done?" I told him the particular offences -which they were brought to the place for. One had stole a bottle of -rum, and had made himself drunk with it, and, when he was drunk, had -done a great many mad things, and had attempted to knock one of the -white servants' brains out with a handspike, but that the white man -had avoided the blow, and, striking up the negro's heels, had seized -him and brought him prisoner thither, where he had lain all night; and -that I had told him he was to be whipped that day, and the next three -days, twice every day. - -"And could you be so cruel?" says his honour. "Why, you would kill the -poor wretch; and so, beside the blood which you would have to answer -for, you would lose me a lusty man negro, which cost me at least 30 -or 40, and bring a reproach upon my whole plantation. Nay, and more -than that, some of them in revenge would murder me, if ever it was in -their power." - -"Sir," says I, "if those fellows are not kept under by violence, I -believe you are satisfied nothing is to be done with them; and it is -reported in your works that I have been rather their jest than their -terror, for want of using them as they deserve; and I was resolved, -how much soever it is against my own disposition, that your service -should not suffer for my unseasonable forbearance; and therefore, if I -had scourged him to death----" "Hold," says he; "no, no, by no means -any such severity in my bounds. Remember, young man; you were once a -servant. Deal as you would acknowledge it would be just to deal with -you in his case, and mingle always some mercy. I desire it, and let -the consequence of being too gentle be placed to my account." - -This was as much as I could desire, and the more because what passed -was in public, and several, both negroes and white servants, as well -as the particular persons who had accused me, heard it all, though I -did not know it. "A cruel dog of an overseer," says one of the white -servants behind; "he would have whipped poor bullet-head"--so they -called the negro that was to be punished--"to death if his honour had -not happened to come to-day." - -However, I urged the notorious crime this fellow was guilty of, and -the danger there was in such forbearance, from the refractory and -incorrigible temper of the negroes, and pressed a little the necessity -of making examples. But he said, "Well, well, do it the next time, but -not now;" so I said no more. - -The other fellow's crime was trifling compared with this; and the -master went forward, talking of it to me, and I following him, till we -came to the house; when, after he had been sat down a while, he called -me to him, and, not suffering my accusers to come near till he had -heard my defence, he began with me thus:-- - -_Mast_. Hark ye, young man, I must have some discourse with you. Your -conduct is complained of since I set you over this plantation. I -thought your sense of the obligation I had laid on you would have -secured your diligence and faithfulness to me. - -_Jacque_. I am very sorry any complaint should be made of me, because -the obligation I am under to your honour (and which I freely confess) -does bind me to your interest in the strongest manner imaginable; and, -however I may have mistaken my business, I am sure I have not -willingly neglected it. - -_Mast_. Well, I shall not condemn you without hearing you, and -therefore I called you in now to tell you of it. - -_Jacque_. I humbly thank your honour. I have but one petition more, -and that is, that I may know my accusation; and, if you please, my -accusers. - -_Mast_. The first you shall, and that is the reason of my talking to -you in private; and if there is any need of a further hearing, you -shall know your accusers too. What you are charged with is just -contrary to what appeared to me just now, and therefore you and I must -come to a new understanding about it, for I thought I was too cunning -for you, and now I think you have been too cunning for me. - -_Jacque_. I hope your honour will not be offended that I do not fully -understand you. - -_Mast_. I believe you do not. Come, tell me honestly, did you really -intend to whip the poor negro twice a day for four days together; that -is to say, to whip him to death, for that would have been the English -of it, and the end of it? - -_Jacque_. If I may be permitted to guess, sir, I believe I know the -charge that is brought against me, and that your honour has been told -that I have been too gentle with the negroes, as well as other -servants; and that when they deserved to be used with the accustomed -severity of the country, I have not given them half enough; and that -by this means they are careless of your business, and that your -plantation is not well looked after, and the like. - -_Mast_. Well, you guess right. Go on. - -_Jacque_. The first part of the charge I confess, but the last I deny, -and appeal to your honour's strictest examination into every part of -it. - -_Mast_. If the last part could be true, I would be glad the first -were; for it would be an infinite satisfaction to me that, my business -not being neglected, nor our safety endangered, those poor wretches -could be used with more humanity; for cruelty is the aversion of my -nature, and it is the only uncomfortable thing that attends me in all -my prosperity. - -_Jacque_. I freely acknowledge, sir, that at first it was impossible -for me to bring myself to that terrible work. How could I, that was -but just come out of the terror of it myself, and had but the day -before been a poor naked, miserable servant myself, and might be -to-morrow reduced to the same condition again; how could I use this -terrible weapon[6] on the naked flesh of my fellow-servants, as well -as fellow-creatures? At least, sir, when my duty made it absolutely -necessary, I could not do it without the utmost horror. I beseech you, -pardon me if I have such a tenderness in my nature, that though I -might be fit to be your servant, I am incapable of being an -executioner, having been an offender myself. - -_Mast_. Well, but how, then, can my business be done? And how will -this terrible obstinacy of the negroes, who, they tell me, can be no -otherwise governed, be kept from neglect of their work, or even -insolence and rebellion? - -_Jacque_. This brings me, sir, to the latter part of my defence; and -here I hope your honour will be pleased to call my accusers, or that -you will give yourself the trouble of taking the exactest view of your -plantation, and see, or let them show you, if anything is neglected, -if your business has suffered in anything, or if your negroes or other -servants are under less government than they were before; and if, on -the contrary, I have found out that happy secret, to have good order -kept, the business of the plantation done, and that with diligence and -despatch, and that the negroes are kept in awe, the natural temper of -them subjected, and the safety and peace of your family secured, as -well by gentle means as by rough, by moderate correction as by torture -and barbarity, by a due awe of just discipline as by the horror of -unsufferable torments, I hope your honour will not lay that sin to my -charge. - -_Mast_. No, indeed; you would be the most acceptable manager that ever -I employed. But how, then, does this consist with the cruel sentence -you had passed on the poor fellow that is in your condemned hole -yonder, who was to be whipped eight times in four days? - -_Jacque_. Very well, sir. First, sir, he remains under the terrible -apprehensions of a punishment so severe as no negro ever had before. -This fellow, with your leave, I intended to release to-morrow without -any whipping at all, after talking to him in my way about his offence, -and raising in his mind a sense of the value of pardon. And if this -makes him a better servant than the severest whipping will do, then, I -presume, you would allow I have gained a point. - -_Mast_. Ay; but what if it should not be so? For these fellows have no -sense of gratitude. - -_Jacque_. That is, sir, because they are never pardoned. If they -offend, they never know what mercy is; and what, then, have they to be -grateful for? - -_Mast_. Thou art in the right indeed. Where there is no mercy showed, -there is no obligation laid upon them. - -_Jacque_. Besides, sir, if they have at any time been let go, which is -very seldom, they are not told what the case is. They take no pains -with them to imprint principles of gratitude on their minds, to tell -them what kindness is shown them, and what they are indebted for it, -and what they might gain in the end by it. - -_Mast_. But do you think such usage would do? Would it make any -impression? You persuade yourself it would, but you see 'tis against -the received notion of the whole country. - -_Jacque_. There are, it may be, public and national mistakes and -errors in conduct, and this is one. - -_Mast_. Have you tried it? You cannot say it is a mistake till you -have tried and proved it to be so. - -_Jacque_. Your whole plantation is a proof of it. This very fellow had -never acted as he did if he had not gotten rum in his head, and been -out of the government of himself; so that, indeed, all the offence I -ought to have punished him for had been that of stealing a bottle of -rum and drinking it all up; in which case, like Noah, he did not know -the strength of it, and when he had it in his head he was a madman, he -was as one raging and distracted; so that, for all the rest, he -deserved pity rather than punishment. - -_Mast_. Thou art right, certainly right, and thou wilt be a rare -fellow if thou canst bring these notions into practice. I wish you had -tried it upon any one particular negro, that I might see an example. I -would give 500 if it could be brought to bear. - -_Jacque_. I desire nothing, sir, but your favour, and the advantage of -obliging you. I will show you an example of it among your own negroes, -and all the plantation will acknowledge it. - -_Mast_. You make my very heart glad within me, Jacque. If you can -bring this to pass, I here give you my word I'll not only give you -your own freedom, but make a man of you for this world as long as you -live. - -Upon this I bowed to him very respectfully, and told him the following -story:--"There is a negro, sir, in your plantation who has been your -servant several years before I came. He did a fault that was of no -great consequence in itself, but perhaps would have been worse if they -had indeed gone further; and I had him brought into the usual place, -and tied him by the thumbs for correction, and he was told that he -should be whipped and pickled in a dreadful manner. After I had made -proper impressions on his mind of the terror of his punishment, and -found that he was sufficiently humbled by it, I went into the house, -and caused him to be brought out, just as they do when they go to -correct the negroes on such occasions. When he was stripped and tied -up he had two lashes given him, that was indeed very cruel ones, and I -called to them to hold. 'Hold!' said I to the two men that had just -began to lay on upon the poor fellow: 'Hold!' said I, 'let me talk -with him.' - -"So he was taken down. Then I began and represented to him how kind -you, that were his great master,[7] had been to him; that you had -never done him any harm; that you had used him gently, and he had -never been brought to this punishment in so many years, though he had -done some faults before; that this was a notorious offence, for he had -stolen some rum, and made himself and two other negroes drunk-mad;[8] -and had abused two women negroes, who had husbands in our master's -service, but in another plantation; and played several pranks, and for -this I had appointed him this punishment. - -"He shook his head, and made signs that he was _muchee sorree_, as he -called it. 'And what will you say or do,' said I, 'if I should prevail -with the great master to pardon you? I have a mind to go and see if I -can beg for you.' He told me he would lie down, let me kill him. 'Me -will,' says he, 'run, go, fetch, bring for you as long as me live.' -This was the opportunity I had a mind to have, to try whether, as -negroes have all the other faculties of reasonable creatures, they had -not also some sense of kindness, some principles of natural -generosity, which, in short, is the foundation of gratitude; for -gratitude is the product of generous principles." - -"You please me with the beginning of this story," says he; "I hope you -have carried it on." - -"Yes, sir," says I; "it has been carried on further perhaps than you -imagine, or will think has been possible in such a case. - -"But I was not so arrogant as to assume the merit to myself. 'No, no,' -said I, 'I do not ask you to go or run for me; you must do all that -for our great master, for it will be from him entirely that you will -be pardoned at all, for your offence is against him; and what will you -say? Will you be grateful to him, and run, go, fetch, bring, for him, -as long as you live, as you have said you would for me?' - -"'Yes, indeed,' says he, 'and muchee do, muchee do, for you too' (he -would not leave me out); 'you ask him for me.' - -"Well, I put off all his promised gratitude to me from myself, as was -my duty, and placed it to your account; told him I knew you was muchee -good, muchee pitiful, and I would persuade you if I could; and so told -him I would go to you, and he should be whipped no more till I came -again; but, 'Hark ye, Mouchat,' says I (that was the negro's name), -'they tell me, when I came hither, that there is no showing kindness -to any of you negroes; that when we spare you from whipping you laugh -at us, and are the worse.' - -"He looked very serious at me, and said, 'Oh, that not so; the masters -say so, but no be so, no be so, indeede, indeede,' and so we parleyed." - -_Jacque_. Why do they say so, then? To be sure they have tried you -all. - -_Negro_. No, no, they no try; they say so, but no try. - -_Jacque_. I hear them all say so. - -_Negro_. Me tell you the true; they have no mercie; they beat us -cruel, all cruel; they never have show mercie. How can they tell we be -no better? - -_Jacque_. What! do they never spare? - -_Negro_. Master, me speakee the true; they never give mercie; they -always whippee, lashee, knockee down, all cruel. Negro be muchee -better man, do muchee better work, but they tell us no mercie. - -_Jacque_. But what, do they never show any mercy? - -_Negro_. No, never; no, never; all whippee; all whippee, cruel, worse -than they whippee de horse, whippee de dog. - -_Jacque_. But would they be better if they did? - -_Negro_. Yes, yes; negro be muchee better if they be mercie. When they -be whippee, whippee, negro muchee cry, muchee hate; would kill if they -had de gun. But when they makee de mercie, then negro tell de great -tankee, and love to worke, and do muchee worke; and because he good -master to them. - -_Jacque_. They say no; you would laugh at them and mock when they show -mercy. - -_Negro_. How they say when they show mercie? They never show mercie; -me never see them show one mercie since me live. - -"Now, sir," said I, "if this be so, really they go, I dare say, -contrary to your inclination, for I see you are but too full of pity -for the miserable. I saw it in my own case; and upon a presumption -that you had rather have your work done from a principle of love than -fear, without making your servants bleed for every trifle, if it were -possible; I say, upon this presumption I dealt with this Mouchat, as -you shall hear." - -_Mast_. I have never met with anything of this kind since I have been -a planter, which is now about forty years. I am delighted with the -story. Go on; I expect a pleasant conclusion. - -_Jacque_. The conclusion, sir, will be, I believe, as much to your -satisfaction as the beginning; for it every way answered my -expectation, and will yours also, and show you how you might be -faithfully served if you pleased, for 'tis certain you are not so -served now. - -_Mast_. No, indeed; they serve me but just as they do the devil, for -fear I should hurt them. But 'tis contrary to an ingenuous spirit to -delight in such service. I abhor it, if I could but know how to get -any other. - -_Jacque_. It is easy, sir, to show you that you may be served upon -better principles, and consequently be better served, and more to your -satisfaction; and I dare undertake to convince you of it. - -_Mast_. Well, go on with the story. - -_Jacque_. After I had talked thus to him I said, "Well, Mouchat, I -shall see how you will be afterwards, if I can get our great master to -be merciful to you at this time." - -_Negro_. Yes, you shall see; you muchee see, muchee see. - -"Upon this I called for my horse and went from him, and made as if I -rode away to you, who they told me was in the next plantation; and -having stayed four or five hours, I came back and talked to him again, -told him that I had waited on you, and that you had heard of his -offence, was highly provoked, and had resolved to cause him to be -severely punished for an example to all the negroes in the plantation; -but that I had told you how penitent he was, and how good he would be -if you would pardon him; and had at last prevailed on you. That you -had told me what all people said of the negroes; how, that to show -them mercy was to make them think you were never in earnest with them, -and that you did but trifle and play with them. However, that I had -told you what he had said of himself, and that it was not true of the -negroes, and that the white men said it, but that they could not know -because they did never show any mercy, and therefore had never tried; -that I had persuaded you to show mercy, to try whether kindness would -prevail as much as cruelty. 'And now, Mouchat,' said I, 'you will be -let go. Pray let our great master see that I have said true.' So I -ordered him to be untied, gave him a dram of rum out of my -pocket-bottle, and ordered them to give him some victuals. - -"When the fellow was let loose, he came to me and kneeled down to me, -and took hold of my legs and of my feet, and laid his head upon the -ground, and sobbed and cried like a child that had been corrected, but -could not speak for his life; and thus he continued a long time. I -would have taken him up, but he would not rise; but I cried as fast as -he, for I could not bear to see a poor wretch lie on the ground to me, -that was but a servant the other day like himself. At last, but not -till a quarter of an hour, I made him get up, and then he spoke. 'Me -muchee know good great master, muchee good you master. No negro -unthankful; me die for them, do me so muchee kind.' - -"I dismissed him then, and bid him go to his wife (for he was -married), and not work that afternoon; but as he was going away I -called him again, and talked thus to him. - -"'Now, Mouchat,' says I, 'you see the white men can show mercy. Now -you must tell all the negroes what has been reported of them; that -they regard nothing but the whip; that if they are used gently they -are the worse, not the better; and that this is the reason why the -white men show them no mercy; and convince them that they would be -much better treated and used kindlier if they would show themselves as -grateful for kind usage as humble after torment; and see if you can -work on them.' - -"'Me go, me go,' says he; 'me muchee talk to them. They be muchee glad -as me be, and do great work to be used kind by de great master.'" - -_Mast_. Well, but now what testimony have you of this gratitude you -speak of? Have you seen any alteration among them? - -_Jacque_. I come next to that part, sir. About a month after this I -caused a report to be spread abroad in the plantation that I had -offended you, the great master, and that I was turned out of the -plantation, and was to be hanged. Your honour knows that some time ago -you sent me upon your particular business into Potuxent River, where I -was absent twelve days; then I took the opportunity to have this -report spread about among the negroes, to see how it would work. - -_Mast_. What! to see how Mouchat would take it? - -_Jacque_. Yes, sir; and it made a discovery indeed. The poor fellow -did not believe it presently, but finding I was still absent, he went -to the head-clerk, and standing at his door, said nothing, but looked -like a fool of ten years old. After some time the upper overseer came -out, and seeing him stand there, at first said nothing, supposing he -had been sent of some errand; but observing him to stand stock-still, -and that he was in the same posture and place during the time that he -had passed and repassed two or three times, he stops short the last -time of his coming by. "What do you want," says he to him, "that you -stand idle here so long?" - -"'Me speakee; me tell something,' says he. - -"Then the overseer thought some discovery was at hand, and began to -listen to him. 'What would you tell me?' says he. - -"'Me tell! Pray,' says he, 'where be de other master?' - -"He meant he would ask where he was. 'What other master do you mean?' -says the clerk. 'What! do you want to speak with the great master? He -can't be spoke with by you. Pray what is your business? Cannot you -tell it to me?' - -"'No, no; me no speakee the great master--the other master,' says -Mouchat." - -"'What! the colonel?' says the clerk. - -"'Yes, yes; the colonel,' says he. - -"'Why, don't you know that he is to be hanged to-morrow,' says the -clerk, 'for making the great master angry?'[9] - -"'Yes, yes,' says Mouchat; 'me know, me know; but me want speak; me -tell something.' - -"'Well, what would you say?' says the clerk. - -"'Oh! me no let him makee de great master angry.' With that he kneeled -down to the clerk. - -"'What ails you?' says the clerk. 'I tell you he must be hanged.' - -"'No, no,' says he; 'no hang de master. Me kneel for him to great -master.' - -"'You kneel for him!' says the clerk.[10] 'What! do you think the -great master will mind you? He has made the great master angry, and -must be hanged, I tell you. What signifies your begging?' - -"_Negro_. Oh! me pray, me pray the great master for him. - -"_Clerk_. Why, what ails you that you would pray for him? - -"_Negro_. Oh! he beggee the great master for me; now me beggee for -him. The great master muchee good, muchee good; he pardon me when the -other master beggee me; now he pardon him when me beggee for him -again. - -"_Clerk_. No, no; your begging won't do. Will you be hanged for him? -If you do that, something may be. - -"_Negro_. Yes, yes; me be hang for de poor master that beggee for me. -Mouchat shall hang; the great master shall hangee me, whippee me; -anything to save the poor master that beggee me; yes, yes, indeed. - -"_Clerk_. Are you in earnest, Mouchat? - -"_Negro_. Yes, indeed; me tellee de true. The great master shall know -me tellee de true, for he shall see the white man hangee me, Mouchat. -Poor negro Mouchat will be hangee, be whippee, anything for the poor -master that beggee for me. - -"With this the poor fellow cried most pitifully, and there was no room -to question his being in earnest; when on a sudden I appeared, for I -was fetched to see all this transaction. I was not in the house at -first, but was just come home from the business you sent me of, and -heard it all; and indeed neither the clerk or I could bear it any -longer, so he came out to me. 'Go to him,' says he; 'you have made an -example that will never be forgot, that a negro can be grateful. Go to -him,' adds he, 'for I can talk to him no longer.' So I appeared, and -spoke to him presently, and let him see that I was at liberty; but to -hear how the poor fellow behaved your honour cannot but be pleased." - -_Mast_. Prithee go on. I am pleased with it all; 'tis all a new scene -of negro life to me, and very moving. - -_Jacque_. For a good while he stood as if he had been thunderstruck -and stupid; but, looking steadily at me, though not speaking a word, -at last he mutters to himself, with a kind of laugh, "Ay, ay," says -he, "Mouchat see, Mouchat no see; me wakee, me no wakee; no hangee, no -hangee; he live truly, very live;" and then on a sudden he runs to me, -snatches me away as if I had been a boy of ten years old, and takes me -up upon his back and runs away with me, till I was fain to cry out to -him to stop. Then he sets me down, and looks at me again, then falls -a-dancing about me as if he had been bewitched, just as you have seen -them do about their wives and children when they are merry. - -"Well, then, he began to talk with me, and told me what they had said -to him, how I was to be hanged. 'Well,' says I, 'Mouchat, and would -you have been satisfied to be hanged to save me?' 'Yes, yes,' says he; -'be truly hangee, to beggee you.' - -"'But why do you love me so well, Mouchat?' said I. - -"'Did you no beggee me,' he says, 'at the great master? You savee me, -make great master muchee good, muchee kind, no whippee me; me no -forget; me be whipped, be hanged, that you no be hanged; me die, that -you no die; me no let any bad be with you all while that me live.' - -"Now, sir, your honour may judge whether kindness, well managed, would -not oblige these people as well as cruelty, and whether there are -principles of gratitude in them or no." - -_Mast_. But what, then, can be the reason that we never believed it to -be so before? - -_Jacque_. Truly, sir, I fear that Mouchat gave the true reason. - -_Mast_. What was that, pray? That we were too cruel? - -_Jacque_. That they never had any mercy showed them; that we never -tried them whether they would be grateful or no; that if they did a -fault they were never spared, but punished with the utmost cruelty; so -that they had no passion, no affection, to act upon but that of fear, -which necessarily brought hatred with it; but that if they were used -with compassion they would serve with affection as well as other -servants. Nature is the same, and reason governs in just proportions -in all creatures; but having never been let taste what mercy is, they -know not how to act from a principle of love. - -_Mast_. I am convinced it is so. But now, pray tell me, how did you -put this in practice with the poor negroes now in bonds yonder, when -you passed such a cruel sentence upon them that they should be whipped -twice a day, for four days together? Was that showing mercy? - -_Jacque_. My method was just the same; and if you please to inquire of -Mr.----, your other servant, you will be satisfied that it was so; for -we agreed upon the same measures as I took with Mouchat; namely, first -to put them into the utmost horror and apprehensions of the cruellest -punishment that they ever heard of, and thereby enhance the value of -their pardon, which was to come as from yourself, but not without our -great intercession. Then I was to argue with them, and work upon their -reason, to make the mercy that was showed them sink deep into their -minds and give lasting impressions; explain the meaning of gratitude -to them, and the nature of an obligation, and the like, as I had done -with Mouchat. - -_Mast_. I am answered. Your method is certainly right, and I desire -you may go on with it; for I desire nothing on this side heaven more -than to have all my negroes serve me from principles of gratitude for -my kindness to them. I abhor to be feared like a lion, like a tyrant. -It is a violence upon nature every way, and is the most disagreeable -thing in the world to a generous mind. - -_Jacque_. But, sir, I am doubtful that you may not believe that I -intended to act thus with those poor fellows. I beseech you to send -for Mr.----, that he may tell you what we had agreed on before I speak -with him. - -_Mast_. What reason have I to doubt that? - -_Jacque_. I hope you have not; but I should be very sorry you should -think me capable of executing such a sentence as you have heard me own -I had passed on them, and there can be no way effectually to clear it -up but this. - -_Mast_. Well, seeing you put so much weight upon it, he shall be -called for. - -[He was called, and being ordered by the master to tell the measures -that were concerted between them for the punishment or management of -those negroes, he gave it just as Jacque had done before.] - -_Jacque_. I hope, sir, you are now not only satisfied of the truth of -the account I gave relating to the method we had agreed on, but of its -being so proper and so likely to answer your end. - -_Mast_. I am fully satisfied, and shall be glad to see that it answers -the end; for, as I have said, nothing can be more agreeable to me. -Nothing has so much robbed me of the comfort of all my fortunes as the -cruelty used, in my name, on the bodies of those poor slaves. - -_Jacque_. It is certainly wrong, sir; it is not only wrong as it is -barbarous and cruel; but it is wrong, too, as it is the worst way of -managing and of having your business done. - -_Mast_. It is my aversion; it fills my very soul with horror. I -believe if I should come by while they were using those cruelties on -the poor creatures, I should either sink down at the sight of it or -fly into a rage and kill the fellow that did it; though it is done, -too, by my own authority. - -_Jacque_. But, sir, I dare say I shall convince you also that it is -wrong in respect of interest, and that your business shall be better -discharged and your plantations better ordered, and more work done by -the negroes who shall be engaged by mercy and lenity than by those who -are driven and dragged by the whips and the chains of a merciless -tormentor. - -_Mast_. I think the nature of the thing speaks itself. Doubtless it -should be so, and I have often thought it would be so, and a thousand -times wished it might be so; but all my English people pretend -otherwise, and that it is impossible to bring the negroes to any sense -of kindness, and consequently not to any obedience of love. - -_Jacque_. It may be true, sir, that there may be found here and there -a negro of a senseless, stupid, sordid disposition, perfectly -untractable, undocible, and incapable of due impressions; especially -incapable of the generosity of principle which I am speaking of. You -know very well, sir, there are such among Christians as well as among -the negroes; whence else came the English proverb, That if you save a -thief from the gallows, he shall be the first to cut your throat. But, -sir, if such a refractory, undocible fellow comes in our way, he must -be dealt with, first by the smooth ways to try him, then by the -violent way to break his temper, as they break a horse; and if nothing -will do, such a wretch should be sold off, and others bought in his -room; for the peace of the plantation should not be broken for one -devilish-tempered fellow. And if this was done I doubt not you should -have all your plantations carried on and your work done, and not a -negro or a servant upon it but what would not only work for you, but -even die for you, if there was an occasion for it, as you see this -poor Mouchat would have done for me. - -_Mast_. Well, go on with your measures, and may you succeed. I'll -promise you I will fully make you amends for it. I long to have these -cruelties out of use, in my plantation especially. As for others, let -them do as they will. - -Our master being gone, I went to the prisoners, and first I suffered -them to be told that the great master had been there, and that he had -been inclined to pardon them, till he knew what their crime was; but -then he said it was so great a fault that it must be punished. -Besides, the man that talked to them told them that the great master -said that he knew if he had pardoned them they would be but the worse, -for that the negroes were never thankful for being spared, and that -there were no other ways to make them obedient but severity. - -One of the poor fellows, more sensible than the other, answered, if -any negro be badder for being kindly used, they should be whipped till -they were muchee better; but that he never knew that, for that he -never knew the negro be kindly use. - -This was the same thing as the other had said, and indeed was but too -true, for the overseers really knew no such thing as mercy; and that -notion of the negroes being no other way to be governed but by cruelty -had been the occasion that no other method was ever tried among them. - -Again, if a slack hand had at any time been held upon them, it had not -been done with discretion, or as a point of mercy, and managed with -the assistance of argument to convince the negroes of the nature and -reason of it, and to show them what they ought to do in return for it; -but it was perhaps the effect of negligence, ill conduct, and want of -application to the business of the plantation; and then it was no -wonder that the negroes took the advantage of it. - -Well, I carried on the affair with these two negroes just as I did -with Mouchat, so I need not repeat the particulars; and they were -delivered with infinite acknowledgments and thanks, even to all the -extravagances of joy usual in those people on such occasions. And such -was the gratitude of those two pardoned fellows that they were the -most faithful and most diligent servants ever after that belonged to -the whole plantation, Mouchat excepted. - -In this manner I carried on the plantation fully to his satisfaction; -and before a year more was expired there was scarce any such thing as -correction known in the plantation, except upon a few boys, who were -incapable of the impressions that good usage would have made, even -upon them too, till they had lived to know the difference. - -It was some time after this conference that our great master, as we -called him, sent for me again to his dwelling-house, and told me he -had had an answer from England from his friend, to whom he had written -about my bill. I was a little afraid that he was going to ask me leave -to send it to London; but he did not say anything like that, but told -me that his friend had been with the gentleman, and that he owned the -bill, and that he had all the money in his hand that the bill had -mentioned; but that he had promised the young man that had given him -the money (meaning me) not to pay the money to anybody but himself, -though they should bring the bill; the reason of which was, that I did -not know who might get the bill away from me. - -"But now, Colonel Jacque," says he, "as you wrote him an account where -you was, and by what wicked arts you were trepanned, and that it was -impossible for you to have your liberty till you could get the money, -my friend at London has written to me, that, upon making out a due -copy of the bill here, attested by a notary and sent to him, and your -obligation likewise attested, whereby you oblige yourself to deliver -the original to his order after the money is paid, he will pay the -money." - -I told him I was willing to do whatever his honour directed; and so -the proper copies were drawn as I had been told were required. - -"But now, what will you do with this money, Jacque?" says he, smiling. -"Will you buy your liberty of me, and go to planting?" - -I was too cunning for him now indeed, for I remembered what he had -promised me; and I had too much knowledge of the honesty of his -principles, as well as of the kindness he had for me, to doubt his -being as good as his word; so I turned all this talk of his upon him -another way. I knew that when he asked me if I would buy my liberty -and go to planting, it was to try if I would leave him; so I said, -"As to buying my liberty, sir--that is to say, going out of your -service--I had much rather buy more time in your service, and I am -only unhappy that I have but two years to serve." - -"Come, come, colonel," says he, "don't flatter me; I love plain -dealing. Liberty is precious to everybody; if you have a mind to have -your money brought over, you shall have your liberty to begin for -yourself, and I will take care you shall be well used by the country, -and get you a good plantation." - -I still insisted that I would not quit his service for the best -plantation in Maryland; that he had been so good to me, and I believed -I was so useful to him, that I could not think of it; and at last I -added I hoped he could not believe but I had as much gratitude as a -negro. - -He smiled, and said he would not be served upon those 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 pulls out a piece of paper, and throws it to me: -"There," says he, "there's a certificate of your coming 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." 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 service. And now we strained courtesies, and he -told me I should be his servant still; but it should be on two -conditions: first, that he would give me 30 a year 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 upon my -own account, "For, Colonel Jacque," says he, smiling, "though you are -but a young man, yet 'tis time you were doing something for yourself." - -I answered that I could do little at a plantation for myself, unless I -neglected his business, which I was resolved not to do on any terms -whatever, but that I would serve him faithfully, if he would accept of -me, as long as he lived. "So you shall," says he again, "and serve -yourself too." And thus we parted for that time. - -Here I am to observe in the general, to avoid dwelling too long upon a -story, that as the two negroes who I delivered from punishment were -ever after the most diligent and laborious poor fellows in the whole -plantation as above, except Mouchat, of whom I shall speak more -by-and-by, so they not only were grateful themselves for their good -usage, but they influenced the whole plantation; so that the gentle -usage and lenity with which they had been treated had a thousand times -more influence upon them to make them diligent than all the blows and -kicks, whippings, and other tortures could have which they had been -used to. And now the plantation was famous for it; so that several -other planters began to do the same, though I cannot say it was with -the same success, which might be for want of taking pains with them -and working upon their passions in a right manner. It appeared that -negroes were to be reasoned into things as well as other people, and -it was by thus managing their reason that most of the work was done. - -However, as it was, the plantations in Maryland were the better for -this undertaking, and they are to this day less cruel and barbarous to -their negroes than they are in Barbados and Jamaica; and 'tis observed -the negroes are not in these colonies so desperate, neither do they so -often run away or so often plot mischief against their master, as they -do in those. - -I have dwelt the longer upon it that, if possible, posterity might be -persuaded to try gentler methods with those miserable creatures, and -to use them with humanity; assuring them that if they did so, adding -the common prudence that every particular case would direct them to -for itself, the negroes would do their work faithfully and cheerfully; -they would not find any of that refractoriness and sullenness in their -temper that they pretend now to complain of, but they would be the -same as their Christian servants, except that they would be the more -thank ful, and humble, and laborious of the two. - -I continued in this station between five and six years after this, and -in all that time we had not one negro whipped, except, as I observed -before, now and then an unlucky boy, and that only for trifles. I -cannot say but we had some ill-natured, ungovernable negroes; but if -at any time such offended, they were pardoned the first time, in the -manner as above, and the second time were ordered to be turned out of -the plantation. And this was remarkable, that they would torment -themselves at the apprehension of being turned away, more by a great -deal than if they had been to be whipped, for then they were only -sullen and heavy. Nay, at length we found the fear of being turned out -of the plantation had as much effect to reform them--that is to say, -make them more diligent--than any torture would have done; and the -reason was evident, namely, because in our plantation they were used -like men, in the other like dogs. - -My master owned the satisfaction he took in this blessed change, as he -called it, as long as he lived; and as he was so engaged by seeing the -negroes grateful, he showed the same principle of gratitude to those -that served him as he looked for in those that he served, and -particularly to me; and so I come briefly to that part. The first -thing he did after giving me my liberty as above, and making me an -allowance, was to get the country bounty to me--that is to say, a -quantity of land to begin and plant for myself. - -But this he managed a way by himself, and, as I found afterwards, took -up, that is, purchased in my name, about three hundred acres of land, -in a more convenient place than it would have otherwise been allotted -me; and this he did by his interest with the lord proprietor; so that -I had an extent of ground marked out to me, not next but very near one -of his own plantations. When I made my acknowledgment for this to him, -he told me plainly that I was not beholden to him for it all; for he -did it that I might not be obliged to neglect his business for the -carrying on my own, and on that account he would not reckon to me what -money he paid, which, however, according to the custom of the country, -was not a very great sum--I think about 40 or 50. - -Thus he very generously gave me my liberty, advanced this money for -me, put me into a plantation for myself, and gave me 30 a year wages -for looking after one of his own plantations. - -"But, Colonel," says he to me, "giving you this plantation is nothing -at all to you 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 to you -for the carrying it on; such as tools, provisions for servants, and -some servants to begin; materials to build outhouses, and -conveniences of all sorts for the plantation, and to buy hogs, cows, -horses for stock, and the like; and I'll take it out of your cargo, -which will come from London, for the money of your bill." - -This was highly obliging and very kind, and the more so, as it -afterwards appeared. In order to this he sent two servants of his own -who were carpenters. As for timber, boards, planks, and all sorts of -such things, in a country almost all made of wood they could not be -wanting. These run me up a little wooden house in less than three -weeks' time, where I had three rooms, a kitchen, an outhouse, and -two large sheds at a distance from the house for store houses, almost -like barns, with stables at the end of them; and thus I was set up in -the world, and, in short, removed by the degrees that you have heard -from a pickpocket to a kidnapped, miserable slave in Virginia (for -Maryland is Virginia, speaking of them at a distance); then from a -slave to a head-officer or overseer of slaves, and from thence to a -master-planter. - -I had now, as above, a house, a stable, two warehouses, and three -hundred acres of land; but, as we say, bare walls make giddy hussies, -so I had neither axe nor hatchet to cut down the trees; horse, nor -hog, nor cow to put upon the land; not a hoe or a spade to break -ground, nor a pair of hands but my own to go to work upon. - -But Heaven and kind masters make up all those things to a diligent -servant; and I mention it because people who are either transported or -otherwise trepanned into those places are generally thought to be -rendered miserable and undone; whereas, on the contrary, I would -encourage them, upon my own experience, to depend upon it, that if -their own diligence in the time of service gains them but a good -character, which it will certainly do if they can deserve it, there is -not the poorest and most despicable felon that ever went over but may, -after his time is served, begin for himself, and may in time be sure -of raising a good plantation. - -For example, I will now take a man in the meanest circumstances of a -servant, who has served out his five or seven years; suppose a -transported wretch for seven years. The custom of the place was -then--what it is since I know not--that on his master's certifying -that he had served his time out faithfully, he had fifty acres of land -allotted him for planting, and on this plan he begins. - -Some had a horse, a cow, and three hogs given, or rather lent, them, -as a stock for the land, which they made an allowance for at a certain -time and rate. - -Custom has made it a trade to give credit to such beginners as these -for tools, clothes, nails, ironwork, and other things necessary for -their planting, and which the persons so giving credit to them are to -be paid for out of the crop of tobacco which they shall plant. Nor is -it in the debtor's power to defraud the creditor of payment in that -manner; and as tobacco is their coin as well as their product, so all -things are to be purchased at a certain quantity of tobacco, the price -being so rated. - -Thus the naked planter has credit at his beginning, and immediately -goes to work to cure the land and plant tobacco; and from this little -beginning have some of the most considerable planters in Virginia, and -in Maryland also, raised themselves--namely, from being without a hat -or a shoe to estates of 40,000 or 50,000; and in this method, I may -add, no diligent man ever miscarried, if he had health to work and was -a good husband; for he every year increases a little, and every year -adding more land and planting more tobacco, which is real money, he -must gradually increase in substance, till at length he gets enough to -buy negroes and other servants, and then never works himself any more. - -In a word, every Newgate wretch, every desperate forlorn creature, the -most despicable ruined man in the world, has here a fair opportunity -put into his hands to begin the world again, and that upon a foot of -certain gain and in a method exactly honest, with a reputation that -nothing past will have any effect upon; and innumerable people have -raised themselves from the worst circumstances in the world--namely, -from the cells in Newgate. - -But I return to my own story. I was now a planter, and encouraged by a -kind benefactor; for, that I might not be wholly taken up with my new -plantation, he gave me freely, and without any consideration, my -grateful negro, Mouchat. He told me it was a debt due to the affection -that poor creature had always had for me; and so indeed it was, for as -the fellow would once have been hanged for me, so now, and to his -last, he loved me so much that it was apparent he did everything with -pleasure that he did for me; and he was so overcome of joy when he -heard that he was to be my negro that the people in the plantation -really thought it would turn his head, and that the fellow would go -distracted. - -Besides this, he sent me two servants more, a man and a woman, but -these he put to my account, as above. Mouchat and these two fell -immediately to work for me, and 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, or shed rather, for -so it should be called. - -These two acres I got in good forwardness, and most of it well -planted with tobacco; though some of it we were obliged to plant with -garden-stuff for food, such as potatoes, carrots, cabbages, peas, -beans, &c. - -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. For my bill, as I have observed, having been copied and -attested in form, and sent to London, my kind friend and custom-house -gentleman paid me the money, and the merchant at London, by my good -master's direction, had laid it all out 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 capes; that is to say, the mouth of the bay. -Some of the goods were recovered, but spoiled; and, in short, nothing -but the nails, tools, and ironwork were good for anything; and though -the value of them was pretty considerable in proportion to the rest, -yet my loss was irreparably great, and indeed the greatness of the -loss to me 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 several -years before 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 cheerfully to me. "Come," says he, -"do not be so discouraged; you may make up this loss." "No, sir," says -I; "that never can be, for it is my all, and I shall never be out of -debt." "Well, but," says he, "you have no creditor, however, but me; -and now I remember I once told you I would make a man of you, and I -will not disappoint you for this disaster." - -I thanked him, and did it with more ceremony and respect than ever, -because I thought myself 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 ironwork saved out of the ship, -in proportion, than I wanted, 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--that is to say, -30 a year--because I wanted it very much; but the second and third -year I resolved not to take it on any account whatsoever, but to leave -it in my benefactor's hands to clear off the debt I had contracted. - -And now I must impose a short digression on the reader, to note that -notwithstanding all the disadvantages of a most wretched education, -yet now, when I began to feel myself, as I may say, in the world, and -to be arrived to an independent state, and to foresee that I might be -something considerable in time; I say, now I found different -sentiments of things taking place in my mind. And, first, I had a -solid principle of justice and honesty, and a secret horror at -things past, when I looked back upon my former life. That original -something--I knew not what--that used formerly to check me in the -first meannesses of my youth, and used to dictate to me when I was but -a child that I was to be a gentleman, continued to operate upon me now -in a manner I cannot describe; and I continually remembered the words -of the ancient glassmaker to the gentleman that he reproved for -swearing, that to be a gentleman was to be an honest man; that without -honesty human nature was sunk and degenerated; the gentleman lost all -the dignity of his birth, and placed himself even below an honest -beggar. These principles, growing upon my mind in the present -circumstances I was in, gave me a secret satisfaction that I can give -no description of. It was an inexpressible joy to me that I was now -like to be, not only a man, but an honest man; and it yielded me a -greater pleasure that I was ransomed from being a vagabond, a thief, -and a criminal, as I had been from a child, than that I was delivered -from slavery and the wretched state of a Virginia sold servant. I had -notion enough in my mind of the hardships of the servant, or slave, -because I had felt it and worked through it; I remembered it as a -state of labour and servitude, hardship and suffering. But the other -shocked my very nature, chilled my blood, and turned the very soul -within me; the thought of it was like reflections upon hell and the -damned spirits; it struck me with horror, it was odious and frightful -to look back on, and it gave me a kind of a fit, a convulsion or -nervous disorder, that was very uneasy to me. - -But to look forward, to reflect how things were changed, how happy I -was that I could live by my own endeavours, and was no more under the -necessity of being a villain, and of getting my bread at my own hazard -and the ruin of honest families--this had in it something more than -commonly pleasing and agreeable, and, in particular, it had a pleasure -that till then I had known nothing of. It was a sad thing to be under -a necessity of doing evil to procure that subsistence which I could -not support the want of, to be obliged to run the venture of the -gallows rather than the venture of starving, and to be always wicked -for fear of want. - -I cannot say that I had any serious religious reflections, or that -these things proceeded yet from the uneasiness of conscience, but from -mere reasonings with myself, and from being arrived to a capacity of -making a right judgment of things more than before. Yet I own I had -such an abhorrence of the wicked life I had led that I was secretly -easy, and had a kind of pleasure in the disaster that was upon me -about the ship, and that, though it was a loss, I could not but be -glad that those ill-gotten goods was gone, and that I had lost what I -had stolen. For I looked on it as none of mine, and that it would be -fire in my flax if I should mingle it with what I had now, which was -come honestly by, and was, as it were, sent from heaven to lay the -foundation of my prosperity, which the other would be only as a moth -to consume. - -At the same time my thoughts dictated to me, that though this was the -foundation of my new life, yet that this was not the superstructure, -and that I might still be born for greater things than these; that it -was honesty and virtue alone that made men rich and great, and gave -them a fame as well as a 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 I began now to love books, and particularly I had an -opportunity of reading some very considerable ones, such as Livy's -Roman History, the history of the Turks, the English History of Speed, -and others; the history of the Low Country wars, the history of -Gustavus Adolphus, king of Sweden, and the history of the Spaniards' -conquest of Mexico, with several others, some of which I bought at a -planter's house who was lately dead and his goods sold, and others I -had borrowed. - -I considered my present state of life to be my mere youth, though I -was now above thirty years old, because in my youth I had learned -nothing; and if my daily business, which was now great, would have -permitted, I would have been content to have gone to school. However, -fate, that had yet 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 life; that he acknowledged; and being driven to -extremities, took to the highway, for which, had he been taken, he -would have been hanged. But falling into some low-prized rogueries -afterwards, for want of opportunity for worse, was catched, condemned, -and transported, 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 months, if I would let him -have books, or even without books, if he had time. I told him a book -would become his hands 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 I was assured that he was fit to -receive that favour of a kind master. In short, I made him to me what -my benefactor made me to him, and from him I gained a fund of -knowledge infinitely more valuable than the rate of a slave, which was -what I had paid for it; but of this hereafter. - -With these thoughts I went cheerfully about my work. As I had now five -servants, my plantation went on, though gently, yet safely, and -increased gradually, though slowly. But the third year, with the -assistance of my old benefactor, I purchased two negroes more, so that -now I had seven servants; and having cured land sufficient for supply -of their food, I was at no difficulty to maintain them; so that my -plantation began now to enlarge itself, and as I lived without any -personal expense, but was maintained at my old great master's, as we -called him, and at his charge, with 30 a year besides, so all my -gains was laid up for increase. - -In this posture I went on for twelve years, and was very successful in -my plantation, and had gotten, by means of my master's favour, who 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 plantation, 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 chiefly carried on his whole -business for him. Yet I seemed now at a loss; my counsellor and my -chief supporter was gone, and I had no confidant to communicate myself -to, on all occasions, as formerly; but there was no remedy. I was, -however, in a better condition to stand alone than ever. I had a very -large plantation, and had near seventy negroes and other servants. In -a word, I was grown really rich, considering my first circumstances, -that began as I may say with nothing; that is to say, I had nothing of -stock, but I had a great beginning, for I had such a man's friendship -and support in my beginning, that indeed I needed no other stock; and -if I had had 500 to have begun with, and not the assistance, advice, -and countenance of such a man, I had not been in a better condition. -But he promised to make a man of me; and so he did, and in one respect -I may say I have merited it of him, for I brought his plantation into -such order, and the government of his negroes into such a regulation, -that if he had given 500 to have had it done, he would have thought -his money well bestowed. His work was always in order, going forward -to his mind; every thing was in a thriving posture; his servants all -loved him, even negroes and all, and yet there was no such thing as a -cruel punishment or severities known among them. - -In my own plantation it was the same thing. I wrought so upon the -reason and the affections of my negroes that they served me -cheerfully, and, by consequence, faithfully and diligently; when in my -neighbour's plantation there was not a week hardly passed without such -horrible outcries, roarings and yellings of the servants, either under -torture or in fear of it, that their negroes would, in discourse with -ours, wish themselves dead and gone, as it seems they believed they -should after death, into their own country. - -If I met with a sullen, stupid fellow, as sometimes it was -unavoidable, I always parted with him and sold him off; for I would -not keep any that sense of kind usage would not oblige. But I seldom -met with such bad ones; for, by talking to them in a plain reasoning -way, I found the temper of the roughest of them would break and -soften. The sense of their own interest would prevail with them at -first or last; and if it had not, the contrary temper was so general -among my people that their own fellows and countrymen would be against -them, and that served to bring them to reason as soon as any other -thing. And this those who think it worth their while will easily find, -viz., that having prevailed effectually over one leading man among -them to be tractable, and pleased, and grateful, he shall make them -all like him, and that in a little while, with more ease than can be -imagined. - -I was now a planter, and also a student. My pedagogue I mentioned -above was very diligent, and proved an extraordinary man indeed. He -taught me not only with application, but with admirable judgment in -the teaching part; for I have seen it in many instances since that -time that every good scholar is not fitted for a schoolmaster, and -that the art of teaching is quite different from that of knowing the -language taught. - -But this man had both, and proved of great use to me, and I found -reason, in the worth of the person, to be very kind to him, his -circumstances considered. I once took the liberty to ask him how it -came to pass that he, who must have had a liberal education and great -advantages to have advanced him in the world, should be capable of -falling into such miserable circumstances as he was in when he came -over. I used some caution in entering upon an inquiry which, as I -said, might not be pleasant to him to relate, but that I would make -him amends by telling him, that if he desired not to enter into it -with me, I would readily excuse him, and would not take it ill at all. -This I did because to a man under such afflictions one should always -be tender, and not put them upon relating anything of themselves which -was grievous to them or which they had rather was concealed. - -But he told me that it was true, that to look back upon his past life -was indeed _renovare dolorem_; but that such mortifications were now -useful to him, to help forward that repentance which he hoped he was -sincerely entered upon; and that though it was with horror he looked -back upon misspent time and ill-applied gifts which a bountiful -Creator had blessed him with, and spared to him for a better improvement, -yet he thought he ought to load himself with as much of the shame as it -pleased God to make his lot, since he had already loaded himself with -the guilt in a shameless manner, till God, he still hoped in mercy to -him, had cut him short and brought him to public disgrace; though he -could not say he had been brought to justice, for then he had been sent -into eternity in despair, and not been sent to Virginia to repent of the -wickedest life that ever man lived. He would have gone on, but I found -his speech interrupted by a passionate struggle within, between his -grief and his tears. - -I took no more notice of it than to tell him that I was sorry I had -asked him about it, but that it was my curiosity. When I saw that -ignorant, untaught, untractable creatures come into misery and shame, -I made no inquiry after their affairs; but when I saw men of parts and -learning take such steps, I concluded it must be occasioned by -something exceeding wicked. "So, indeed," said he, "the judge said to -me when I begged mercy of him in Latin. He told me that when a man -with such learning falls into such crimes he is more inexcusable than -other men, because, his learning recommending him, he could not want -advantages and had the less temptation to crimes." - -"But, sir," said he, "I believe my case was what I find is the case of -most of the wicked part of the world, viz., that to be reduced to -necessity is to be wicked; for necessity is not only the temptation, -but is such a temptation as human nature is not empowered to resist. -How good, then," says he, "is that God which takes from you, sir, the -temptation, by taking away the necessity!" - -I was so sensible of the truth of what he said, knowing it by my own -case, that I could not enter any further upon the discourse; but he -went on voluntarily. "This, sir," says he, "I am so sensible of that I -think the case I am reduced to much less miserable than the life which -I lived before, because I am delivered from the horrid necessity of -doing such ill things which was my ruin and disaster then, even for my -bread, and am not now obliged to ravish my bread out of the mouths of -others by violence and disorder, but am fed, though I am made to earn -it by the hard labour of my hands, and I thank God for the -difference." He paused here, but went on thus:-- - -"How much is the life of a slave in Virginia to be preferred to that -of the most prosperous thief in the world! Here I live miserable, but -honest; suffer wrong, but do no wrong; my body is punished, but my -conscience is not loaded; and as I used to say that I had no leisure -to look in, but I would begin when I had some recess, some time to -spare, now God has found me leisure to repent." He run on in this -manner a great while, giving thanks, I believe most heartily, for his -being delivered from the wretched life he had lived, though his misery -were to be tenfold as much as it was. - -I was sincerely touched with his discourse on this subject. I had -known so much of the real difference of the case that I could not but -be affected with it, though till now, I confess, I knew little of the -religious part. I had been an offender as well as he, though not -altogether in the same degree, but I knew nothing of the penitence; -neither had I looked back upon anything as a crime, but as a life -dishonourable and not like a gentleman, which run much in my thoughts, -as I have several times mentioned. - -"Well, but now," says I, "you talk penitently, and I hope you are -sincere; but what would be your case if you were delivered from the -miserable condition of a slave sold for money, which you are now in? -Should you not, think you, be the same man?" - -"Blessed be God," says he, "that, if I thought I should, I would -sincerely pray that I might not be delivered, and that I might for -ever be a slave rather than a sinner." - -"Well, but," says I, "suppose you to be under the same necessity, in -the same starving condition, should you not take the same course?" - -He replied very sharply, "That shows us the need we have of the -petition in the Lord's prayer, 'Lead us not into temptation;' and of -Solomon's or Agar's prayer, 'Give me not poverty, lest I steal.' I -should ever beg of God not to be left to such snares as human nature -cannot resist. But I have some hope, that I should venture to starve -rather than to steal; but I also beg to be delivered from the danger, -because I know not my own strength." - -This was honestly spoken, indeed; and there really were such visible -tokens of sincerity in all his discourse that I could not suspect him. -On some of our discourses on this subject, he pulled out a little -dirty paper-book, in which he had wrote down such a prayer in verse as -I doubt few Christians in the world could subscribe to; and I cannot -but record it, because I never saw anything like it in my life. The -lines are as follow:-- - - - "Lord! whatsoever sorrows rack my breast, - Till crime removes too, let me find no rest; - How dark soe'er my state or sharp my pain, - Oh! let not troubles cease and sin remain. - For Jesus' sake remove not my distress, - Till free triumphant grace shall repossess - The vacant throne from whence my sins depart, - And make a willing captive of my heart; - Till grace completely shall my soul subdue, - Thy conquest full and my subjection true." - - -There were more lines on the same subject, but these were the -beginning; and these touching me so sensibly, I have remembered them -distinctly ever since, and have, I believe, repeated them to myself a -thousand times. - -I pressed him no more, you may be sure, after an answer so very -particular and affecting as this was. It was easy to see the man was a -sincere penitent, not sorrowing for the punishment he was suffering -under; for his condition was no part of his affliction; he was rather -thankful for it, as above; but his concern was a feeling and affecting -sense of the wicked and abominable life he had led, the abhorred -crimes he had committed both against God and man, and the little sense -he had had of the condition he was in, and that even till he came to -the place where he now was. - -I asked him if he had no reflections of this kind after or before his -sentence. He told me Newgate (for the prison at Bristol is called so, -it seems, as well as that at London) was a place that seldom made -penitents, but often made villains worse, till they learnt to defy God -and devil; but that, however, he could look back with this -satisfaction, that he could say he was not altogether insensible of it -even then; but nothing that amounted to a thorough serious looking up -to heaven; that he often indeed looked in, and reflected upon his past -misspent life, even before he was in prison, when the intervals of his -wicked practices gave some time for reflection, and he would sometimes -say to himself, "Whither am I going? to what will all these things -bring me at last? and where will they end? Sin and shame follow one -another, and I shall certainly come to the gallows. Then," said he, "I -would strike upon my breast, and say, 'O wicked wretch! when will you -repent?' and would answer myself as often, 'Never! never! never! -except it be in a gaol or at a gibbet.' - -"Then," said he, "I would weep and sigh, and look back a little upon -my wretched life, the history of which would make the world amazed; -but, alas! the prospect was so dark, and it filled me with so much -terror, that I could not bear it. Then I would fly to wine and company -for relief; that wine brought on excess, and that company, being -always wicked company like yourself, brought on temptation, and then -all reflection vanished and I was the same devil as before." - -He spoke this with so much affection that his face was ever smiling -when he talked of it, and yet his eyes had tears standing in them at -the same time, and all the time; for he had a delightful sorrow, if -that be a proper expression, in speaking of it. - -This was a strange relation to me, and began to affect me after a -manner that I did not understand. I loved to hear him talk of it, and -yet it always left a kind of a dead lump behind it upon my heart, -which I could give no reason for, nor imagine to what it should tend; -I had a heaviness on my soul, without being able to describe it or to -say what ailed me. - -Well, he went on with his relation. "After this," says he, "I fell -into the hands of a justice for a trifle, a piece of sport in our -crime; and I, that for a hundred robberies, as well on the highway as -otherwise, the particulars of which would fill a book to give an -account of, ought, whenever I was taken, to be hanged in chains, and -who, if it had been public, could not have failed of having twenty -people come in against me, was privately hurried into a country gaol -under a wrong name; tried for a small fact, within benefit of clergy, -and in which I was not principally guilty, and by this means obtained -the favour of being transported. - -"And what think you," said he, "has most sensibly affected me, and -brought on the blessed change that, I hope I may say, God has wrought -in my soul? Not the greatness of my crimes, but the wonders of that -merciful Providence, which, when it has mercy in store for a man, -often brings him into the briers, into sorrow and misery for lesser -sins, that men may be led to see how they are spared from the -punishment due to them for the greater guilt which they know lies upon -them. Do you think that when I received the grant of transportation I -could be insensible what a miracle of divine goodness such a thing -must be to one who had so many ways deserved to be hanged, and must -infallibly have died if my true name had been known, or if the least -notice had been given that it was such a notorious wretch as I that -was in custody? There began the first motive of repentance; for -certainly the goodness of our great Creator in sparing us, when we -forfeit our lives to His justice, and His merciful bringing us out of -the miseries which we plunge ourselves into, when we have no way to -extricate ourselves; His bringing those very miseries to be the means -of our deliverance, and working good to us out of evil, when we are -working the very evil out of His good; I say, these things are -certainly the strongest motives to repentance that are in the world, -and the sparing thieves from the gallows certainly makes more -penitents than the gallows itself. - -"It is true," continued he, "that the terror of punishment works -strongly upon the mind; in view of death men are filled with horror of -soul, and immediately they call that repentance which I doubt is too -often mistaken, being only a kind of anguish in the soul, which breeds -a grief for the punishment that is to be suffered--an amazement -founded upon the dreadful view of what is to follow. But the sense of -mercy is quite another thing; this seizes all the passions and all the -affections, and works a sincere, unfeigned abhorrence of the crime, as -a crime, as an offence against our Benefactor, as an act of baseness -and ingratitude to Him who has given us life and all the blessings and -comforts of life, and who has conquered us by continuing to do us -good, when He has been provoked to destroy us. - -"This, sir," says he, "has been the fountain of that repentance which -I so much rejoice in; this is the delightful sorrow," says he, "that I -spoke of just now; and this makes smiles sit on my face while tears -run from my eyes, a joy that I can no otherwise express than by -telling you, sir, that I never lived a happy day since I came to an -age of acting in the world till I landed in this country, and worked -in your plantation, naked and hungry, weary and faint, oppressed with -cold in one season, and heat in the other. Then I began to see into my -own ways, and see the difference between the hardships of the body and -the torment of the mind. Before I revelled in fulness, and here I -struggled with hard fare; then I wallowed in sloth and voluptuous -ease; here I laboured till nature sometimes was just sinking under the -load; but with this difference in the felicity of either case, namely, -that there I had a hell in my soul, was filled with horror and -confusion, was a daily terror to myself, and always expected a -miserable end; whereas here I had a blessed calm of soul, an emblem -and forerunner of heaven, thankful and humble, adoring that mercy that -had snatched me out of the jaws of the devil. These took up my -thoughts, and made my most weary hours pleasant to me, my labour -light, and my heart cheerful. I never lay down on my hard lodging but -I praised God with the greatest excess of affection, not only that it -was not the condemned hole, and that I was delivered from the death I -had deserved, but that it was not Shooter's Hill; that I was not still -a robber, a terror to just and honest men, a plunderer of the innocent -and the poor, a thief, and a villain, that ought to be rooted out from -the earth for the safety of others; but that I was delivered from the -horrid temptation of sinning to support my luxury, and making one vice -necessary to another; and this, I bear witness, is sufficient to -sweeten the bitterest sorrow, and make any man be thankful for -Virginia, or a worse place, if that can be." - -He then entertained me with an opinion of his, that if it were -possible for the face of heaven and hell to be disclosed and laid -open, and that men could be made capable of seeing distinctly and -separately the joys and glory and utmost felicity of one, and the -horrors of the other, and to make a judgment of both according to the -power of human reasoning, the first would have a stronger and more -powerful effect to reform the world than the latter; but this we had -further discourses about on many occasions. - -If it should be inquired how I was capable of hearing all this, and -having no impressions made upon my mind by it, especially when it so -many ways suited my own case, and the condition of the former part of -my life, I shall answer that presently by myself. However, I took no -notice of it to him, for he had quite other notions of me than I had -of myself; nor did I, as is usual in such cases, enter into any -confidence with him on my own story, only that I took sometimes the -occasion to let him know that I did not come over to Virginia in the -capacity of a criminal, or that I was not transported; which, -considering how many of the inhabitants there were so who then lived -in good circumstances, was needful enough to be done. - -But as to myself, it was enough that I was in condition now; 'twas no -matter to anybody what I had been; and as it was grown pretty much out -of memory from what original disaster I came into the country, or that -I was ever a servant otherwise than voluntary, and that it was no -business of mine to expose myself, so I kept that part close. But for -all that, it was impossible for me to conceal the disorder I was in as -often as he talked of these things. I had hitherto gone on upon a -notion of things founded only in their appearance, as they affected me -with good or evil, esteeming the happy and unhappy part of life to be -those that gave me ease or sorrow, without regarding, or indeed much -understanding, how far those turns of life were influenced by the -Giver of Life, or how far they were all directed by a sovereign God -that governs the world, and all the creatures he had made. - -As I had no education but as you have heard, so I had had no -instruction, no knowledge of religion, or indeed of the meaning of it; -and though I was now in a kind of search after religion, it was a mere -looking, as it were, into the world to see what kind of a thing or -place it was, and what had been done in it. But as to Him that made -it, there had truly been scarce a creature among all that He had made, -with souls in them, that were so entirely without the knowledge of God -as I was, and made so little inquiry about it. - -But the serious, affectionate discourse of this young man began to -have different effects upon me, and I began to say to myself, "This -man's reflections are certainly very just; but what a creature am I, -and what have I been doing!--I that never once did this in all my -life; that never said so much--'God, I thank Thee for all that I have -been saved from, or all that I have been brought to in this world;' -and yet my life has been as full of variety, and I have been as -miraculously delivered from dangers and mischiefs, and as many of -them, as ever he has. And if it has all been brought to pass by an -invisible hand in mercy to me, what have I been doing, and where have -I lived, that I only should be the most thoughtless and unthankful of -all God's creatures?" - -This, indeed, began to grow upon me, and made me very melancholy; but -as to religion, I understood so little about it that if I had resolved -upon any such thing as a new course of life, or to set about a -religious change, I knew not at which end to begin or what to do about -it. - -One day it happened that my tutor--for so I always called him--had the -Bible in his hand, and was looking in it, as he generally did many -times every day, though I knew not for what. Seeing the Bible, I took -it out of his hands, and went to look in it, which I had done so -little before that I think I might safely say I had never read a -chapter in it in all my life. He was talking of the Bible then as a -book only, and where he had it, and how he brought it to Virginia, and -in some ecstasy he took and kissed it. "This blessed book!" says he; -"this was all the treasure I brought out from England with me. And a -comfortable treasure it has been to me," added he; "I would not have -been without it in my sorrows for any other treasure in the world;" -and so he went on at large. - -I, that had no notion of what he meant--only, as I have said above, -some young infant thoughts about the works of Providence in the world -and its merciful dealings with me--took the book out of his hand and -went to look in it; and the book opened at the Acts xxvi. 28, where -Felix says to St. Paul, "Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian." -"I think," says I, "here's a line hits me to a tittle, upon the long -account you have given of yourself, and I must say them to you, as the -governor here said;" and so I read the words to him. He blushed at the -text, and returns, "I wish I could answer you in the very words the -Apostle returned to him in the next verse: 'I would thou wert both -almost, and altogether such as I am, except these bonds.'" - -I was now more than thirty years old by my own account, and as well as -it was possible for me to keep a reckoning of my age, who had nobody -left that ever knew my beginning; I was, I say, above thirty years -old, and had gone through some variety in the world. But as I was -perfectly abandoned in my infancy, and utterly without instruction in -my youth, so I was entirely ignorant of everything that was worthy the -name of religion in the world; and this was the first time that ever -any notion of religious things entered into my heart. I was surprised -at this man's talk, and that several ways particularly he talked so -feelingly of his past circumstances, and they were so like my own, -that every time he made a religious inference from his own condition, -and argued from one condition of his to another, it struck into my -thoughts like a bullet from a gun that I had certainly as much to be -thankful for and to repent of as he had, except only that I had no -knowledge of better things to be thankful for, which he had. But in -return for that, I was delivered and set up in the world, made a -master, and easy, and was in good circumstances, being raised from the -very same low, distressed condition as he was in--I mean a sold -servant--but that he remained so still; so that, if his sin had been -greater than mine, so his distress was still greater. - -This article of gratitude struck deep and lay heavy upon my mind. I -remembered that I was grateful to the last degree to my old master, -who had raised me from my low condition, and that I loved the very -name of him, or, as might be said, the very ground he trod on; but I -had not so much as once thought of any higher obligation; no, nor so -much as, like the Pharisee, had said once, "God, I thank thee," to -Him, for all the influence which His providence must have had in my -whole affair. - -It occurred to me presently that if none of all these things befall us -without the direction of a Divine Power, as my new instructor had told -me at large, and that God had ordered everything, the most minute and -least transaction of life, insomuch that not a hair of our head shall -fall to the ground without His permission; I say, it occurred to me -that I had been a most unthankful dog to that Providence that had done -so much for me; and the consequence of the reflection was immediately -this: how justly may that Power, so disobliged, take away again His -wool and His flax, with which I am now clothed, and reduce me to the -misery of my first circumstances. - -This perplexed me much, and I was very pensive and sad; in which, -however, my new instructor was a constant comforter to me, and I -learned every day something or other from him; upon which I told him -one morning that I thought be must leave off teaching me Latin, and -teach me religion. He spoke with a great deal of modesty of his being -incapable of informing me of anything that I did not know, and -proposed to me to read the Scriptures every day, as the sure and only -fund of instruction. I answered that, in the words of the eunuch to -St. Philip when the apostle asked him if he understood what he read: -"How can I, unless some one guide me?" - -We talked frequently upon this subject, and I found so much reason to -believe he was a sincere convert that I can speak of him as no other -in all I have to say of him. However, I cannot say my thoughts were -yet ripened for an operation of that kind. I had some uneasiness about -my past life, and I lived now, and had done so before I knew him, a -very regular, sober life, always taken up in my business and running -into no excesses. But as to commencing penitent, as this man had done, -I cannot say I had any convictions upon me sufficient to bring it on, -nor had I a fund of religious knowledge to support me in it. So it -wore off again gradually, as such things generally do where the first -impressions are not deep enough. - -In the meantime, as he read over long lectures of his own disasters to -me, and applied them all seriously to me, so our discourse was always -very solid and weighty, and we had nothing of levity between us, even -when we were not concerned in religious discourses. He read history to -me; and, where books were wanting, he gave me ideas of those things -which had not been recorded by our modern histories, or at least that -our number of books would not reach. By these things he raised an -unquenchable thirst in me, after seeing something that was doing in -the world; and the more because all the world was at that time -engaged, more or less, in the great war wherein the French king might -be said to be engaged with and against all the powers of Europe. - -Now, I looked upon myself as one buried alive in a remote part of the -world, where I could see nothing at all, and hear but a little of what -was seen, and that little not till at least half a year after it was -done, and sometimes a year or more; and, in a word, the old reproach -often came in the way--namely, that even this was not yet the life of -a gentleman. - -It was true that this was much nearer to it than that of a pickpocket, -and still nearer than that of a sold slave; but, in short, this would -not do, and I could receive no satisfaction in it. I had now a second -plantation, a very considerable one, and it went forward very well. I -had on it almost a hundred servants already of sundry sorts, and an -overseer that I had a great deal of reason to say I might depend upon, -and but that I had a third in embryo, and newly begun, I had nothing -to hinder me from going where I pleased. - -However, I 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 possible, and realise those -things to my mind which I had hitherto only entertained remote ideas -of by the help of books. - -Accordingly I pushed forward the settlement of my third plantation, in -order to bring it to be in a posture either to be let to a tenant or -left in trust with an overseer, as I should find occasion. - -Had I resolved to leave it to an overseer or steward, no man in the -world could have been fit for it like my tutor; but I could not think -of parting with him, who was the cause of my desire of travelling, and -who I concluded to make my partner in my travels. - - - -END OF VOL. I. - - - - - - -THE LIFE OF COLONEL JACQUE. - - -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, to my great -disappointment, 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's diligence and honest application, even unassisted, delivered -himself, [though not] any farther than, as I say, by making him an -overseer, which was only a present ease and deliverance to him from -the hard labour and fare which he endured as a servant. - -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 principal manager for near twenty years, as you shall hear in -its place. - -I mention these things the more at large that, if any unhappy wretch -who may have the disaster to fall into such circumstances as these may -come to see this account, they may learn the following short lessons -from these examples:-- - -I. That Virginia and a state of transportation may be the happiest -place and condition they were ever in for this life, as, by a sincere -repentance and a diligent application to the business they are put to, -they are effectually delivered from a life of flagrant wickedness and -put in a perfect new condition, in which they have no temptation to -the crimes they formerly committed, and have a prospect of advantage -for the future. - -II. That in Virginia the meanest and most despicable creature, after -his time of servitude is expired, if he will but apply himself with -diligence and industry to the business of the country, is sure (life -and health supposed) both of living well and growing rich. - -As this is a foundation which the most unfortunate wretch alive is -entitled to, a transported felon is, in my opinion, a much happier man -than the most prosperous untaken thief in the nation. Nor are those -poor young people so much in the wrong as some imagine them to be that -go voluntarily over to those countries, and in order to get themselves -carried over and placed there, freely bind themselves there, -especially if the persons into whose hands they fall do anything -honestly by them; for, as it is to be supposed that those poor people -knew not what course to take before, or had miscarried in their -conduct before, here they are sure to be immediately provided for, -and, after the expiration of their time, to be put in a condition to -provide for themselves. But I return to my own story, which now begins -a new scene. - -I was now making provision for my going to England. After having -settled my plantation in such hands as was 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 me 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 correspondent 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 twenty-four guns and about six hundred -hogsheads of tobacco, and we left the capes of Virginia on the 1st 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. - -After we had been about eleven days at sea, having the wind most part -of the time blowing very hard at west, or between the west and -north-west, by which we were carried a great way farther to the -eastward than they usually go in their course for England, we met with -a furious tempest, which held us five days, blowing most of the time -excessive hard, and by which we were obliged to run away afore the -wind, as the seamen call it, wheresoever it was our lot to go. By this -storm our ship was greatly damaged, and some leaks we had, but not so -bad that by the diligence of the seamen they were stopped. However, -the captain, after having beaten up again as well as he could against -the weather, and the sea going very high, at length he resolved to go -away for the Bermudas. - -I was not seaman enough to understand what the reason of their -disputes was, but in their running for the islands it seems they -overshot the latitude, and could never reach the islands of Bermudas -again. The master and the mate differed to an extremity about this, -their reckonings being more than usually wide of one another, the -storm having driven them a little out of their knowledge. The master, -being a positive man, insulted the mate about it, and threatened to -expose him for it when he came to England. The mate was an excellent -sea artist and an experienced sailor, but withal a modest man, and -though he insisted upon his being right, did it in respectful terms -and as it became him. But after several days' dispute, when the -weather came to abate and the heavens to clear up, that they could -take their observations and know where they were, it appeared that the -mate's account was right, and the captain was mistaken; for they were -then in the latitude of 29 degrees, and quite out of the wake of the -Bermudas. - -The mate made no indecent use of the discovery at all, and the -captain, being convinced, carried it civilly to him, and so the heats -were over among them; but the next question was, what they should do -next. Some were for going one way, some another; but all agreed that -they were not in a condition to go on the direct course for England, -unless they could have a southerly or south-west wind, which had not -been our fate since we came to sea. - -Upon the whole, they resolved by consent to steer away to the -Canaries, which was the nearest land they could make except the Cape -de Verde Islands, which were too much to the southward for us, if it -could be avoided. - -Upon this they stood away N.E., and the wind hanging still westerly, -or to the northward of the west, we made good way, and in about -fifteen days' sail we made the Pico Teneriffe, being a monstrous hill -in one of the Canary Islands. Here we refreshed ourselves, got fresh -water and some fresh provisions, and plenty of excellent wine, but no -harbour to run into, to take care of the ship, which was leaky and -tender, having had so much very bad weather; so we were obliged to do -as well as we could, and put to sea again, after riding at the -Canaries four days only. - -From the Canaries we had tolerable weather and a smooth sea till we -came into the soundings--so they call the mouth of the British -Channel--and the wind blowing hard at the N. and the N.W. obliged us -to keep a larger offing, as the seamen call it, at our entrance into -the Channel; when, behold! in the grey of the morning a French cruiser -or privateer of twenty-six guns appeared, and crowded after us with -all the sail they could make. In short, our captain exchanged a -broadside or two with them, 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 best 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 to St. Malo. - -I was not much concerned for the loss I had in the ship, because I -knew I had sufficient in the world somewhere or other; but as I was -effectually stripped of everything I had about me, and even almost my -clothes from my back, I was in but a very indifferent condition. But -somebody informing the captain of the privateer, that I was a -passenger and a merchant, he called for me and inquired into my -circumstances, and coming to hear from myself how I had been used, -obliged the seamen to give me a coat and hat and a pair of shoes, -which they had taken off me, and himself gave me a morning gown of his -own to wear while I was in his ship, and, to give him his due, treated -me very well. - -I had, however, besides my being taken, the mortification to be -detained on board the cruiser, and seeing the ship I was in manned -with Frenchmen and sent away, as above, for St. Malo; and this was a -greater mortification to me afterwards, when, being brought into St. -Malo, I heard that our own ship was retaken in her passage to St. Malo -by an English man-of-war and carried to Portsmouth. - -When our ship was sent away the _Rover_ cruised abroad again in the -mouth of the Channel for some time, but met with no purchase. At last -they made a sail, which proved to be one of their nation and one of -their own trade, from whom they learned, the news having been carried -to England that some French privateers lay off and on in the -soundings, that three English men-of-war were come out from Plymouth -on purpose to cruise in the Channel, and that they would certainly -meet with us. Upon this intelligence the Frenchman, a bold, brave -fellow, far from shrinking from his work, stands away N.E. for St. -George's Channel, and in the latitude of 48 degrees and a half, -unhappily enough, meets with a large and rich English ship, bound home -from Jamaica. It was in the grey of the morning, and very clear, when -a man on the roundtop cried out, "_Au voile_, a sail." I was in hopes -indeed it had been the English men-of-war, and by the hurry and -clutter they were in to get all ready for a fight, I concluded it was -so, and got out of my hammock (for I had no cabin to lie in) that I -might see what it was; but I soon found that my hopes were in vain, -and it was on the wrong side; for that that being on our larboard bow, -the ship lying then northward to make the coast of Ireland, by the -time I was turned out I could perceive they had all their sails bent -and full, having begun to chase, and making great way. On the other -hand, it was evident the ship saw them too, and knew what they were, -and, to avoid them, stretched away with all the canvas they could lay -on for the coast of Ireland, to run in there for harbour. - -Our privateer, it was plain, infinitely outsailed her, running two -foot for her one, and towards evening came up with them. Had they been -able to have held it but six hours longer they would have got into -Limerick River, or somewhere under shore, so that we should not have -ventured upon them. But we came up with them, and the captain, when he -saw there was no remedy, bravely brought to and prepared to fight. She -was a ship of thirty guns, but deep in the sea, cumbered between decks -with goods, and could not run out her lower-deck guns, the sea also -going pretty high, though at last she ventured to open her gun-room -ports and fire with three guns on a side. But her worst fate was, she -sailed heavy, being deep loaden, and the Frenchman had run up by her -side and poured in his broadside, and was soon ready again. However, -as she was well manned too, and that the English sailors bestirred -themselves, they gave us their broadsides too very nimbly and -heartily, and I found the Frenchman had a great many men killed at the -first brush. But the next was worse, for the English ship, though she -did not sail so well as the Frenchman, was a bigger ship and strong -built, and as we (the French) bore down upon them again, the English -run boldly on board us, and laid thwart our hawse, lashing themselves -fast to us. Then it was that the English captain run out his lower -tier of guns, and indeed tore the Frenchman so, that, had he held it, -the privateer would have had the worst of it. But the Frenchman, with -admirable readiness, indeed, and courage, the captain appearing -everywhere with his sword in his hand, bestirred themselves, and -loosing themselves from the English ship, thrusting her off with -brooms, and pouring their small shot so thick that the other could not -appear upon deck; I say, clearing themselves thus, they came to lie -a-broadside of each other, when, by long firing, the English ship was -at length disabled, her mizzen-mast and bowsprit shot away, and, which -was worst of all, her captain killed; so that, after a fight which -held all night--for they fought in the dark--and part of the next day, -they were obliged to strike. - -I was civilly desired by the French captain to go down into the hold -while the fight held, and, besides the civility of it, I found he was -not willing I should be upon deck. Perhaps he thought I might have -some opportunity to do hurt, though I know not how it could be. -However, I was very ready to go down, for I had no mind to be killed, -especially by my own friends; so I went down and sat by the surgeon, -and had the opportunity to find that, the first broadside the English -fired, seven wounded men were brought down to the surgeon, and -three-and-thirty more afterwards, that is to say, when the English lay -thwart their bow; and after they cleared themselves there were about -eleven more; so that they had one-and-fifty men wounded and about -two-and-twenty killed. The Englishman had eighteen men killed and -wounded, among whom was the captain. - -The French captain, however, triumphed in his prize; for it was an -exceeding rich ship, having abundance of silver on board. And after -the ship was taken and they had plundered all the great cabin -afforded, which was very considerable, the mate promised the captain -that, if he would give him his liberty, he would discover six thousand -pieces of eight to him privately, which none of the men should know -of. The captain engaged, and gave it under his hand to set him at -liberty as soon as he came on shore. Accordingly, in the night, after -all was either turned in, as they call it, or employed on the duty of -the watch, the captain and the mate of the prize went on board, and -having faithfully discovered the money, which lay in a place made on -purpose to conceal it, the captain resolved to let it lie till they -arrived, and then he conveyed it on shore for his own use; so that the -owners, nor the seamen, ever came to any share of it, which, by the -way, was a fraud in the captain. But the mate paid his ransom by the -discovery, and the captain gave him his liberty very punctually, as he -had promised, and two hundred pieces of eight to carry him to England -and to make good his losses. - -When he had made this prize, the captain thought of nothing more than -how to get safe to France with her, for she was a ship sufficient to -enrich all his men and his owners also. The account of her cargo, by -the captain's books, of which I took a copy, was in general: - - - 260 hogsheads of sugar. - 187 smaller casks of sugar. - 176 barrels of indigo. - 28 casks of pimento. - 42 bags of cotton wool. - 80 cwt. of elephants' teeth. - 60 small casks of rum. - 18,000 pieces of eight, besides the six thousand concealed. -Several parcels of drugs, tortoise-shell, sweetmeats, called succades, -chocolate, lime juice, and other things of considerable value. - - -This was a terrible loss among the English merchants, and a noble -booty for the rogues that took it; but as it was in open war and by -fair fighting, as they call it, there was no objection to be made -against them, and, to give them their due, they fought bravely for it. - -The captain was not so bold as to meeting the English men-of-war -before, but he was as wary now; for, having a prize of such value in -his hands, he was resolved not to lose her again, if he could help it. -So he stood away to the southward, and that so far that I once thought -he was resolved to go into the Straits, and home by Marseilles. But -having sailed to the latitude of 45 degrees 3 quarters, or -thereabouts, he steered away east, into the bottom of the Bay of -Biscay, and carried us all into the river of Bordeaux, where, on -notice of his arrival with such a prize, his owners or principals came -overland to see him, and where they consulted what to do with her. The -money they secured, to be sure, and some of the cargo; but the ships -sailed afterwards along the coast to St. Malo, taking the opportunity -of some French men-of-war which were cruising on the coast to be their -convoy as far as Ushant. - -Here the captain rewarded and dismissed the English mate, as I have -said, who got a passage from thence to Dieppe by sea, and after that -into England, by the help of a passport, through Flanders to Ostend. -The captain, it seems, the more willingly shipped him off that he -might not discover to others what he had discovered to him. - -I was now at Bordeaux, in France, and the captain asked me one morning -what I intended to do. I did not understand him at first, but he soon -gave me to understand that I was now either to be delivered up to the -state as an English prisoner, and so be carried to Dinan, in Brittany, -or to find means to have myself exchanged, or to pay my ransom, and -this ransom he told me at first was three hundred crowns. - -I knew not what to do, but desired he would give me time to write to -England to my friends; for that I had a cargo of goods sent to them by -me from Virginia, but I did not know but it might have fallen into -such hands as his were, and if it was, I knew not what would be my -fate. He readily granted that; so I wrote by the post, and had the -satisfaction, in answer to it, to hear that the ship I was taken in -had been retaken, and carried into Portsmouth; which I doubted would -have made my new master more strict, and perhaps insolent; but he said -nothing of it to me, nor I to him, though, as I afterwards understood, -he had advice of it before. - -However, this was a help to me, and served to more than pay my ransom -to the captain. And my correspondent in London, hearing of my being -alive and at Bordeaux, immediately sent me a letter of credit upon an -English merchant at Bordeaux for whatever I might have occasion for. -As soon as I received this I went to the merchant, who honoured the -letter of credit, and told me I should have what money I pleased. But -as I, who was before a mere stranger in the place and knew not what -course to take, had now, as it were, a friend to communicate my -affairs to and consult with, as soon as I told him my case, "Hold," -says he; "if that be your case, I may perhaps find a way to get you -off without a ransom." - -There was, it seems, a ship bound home to France from Martinico, taken -off Cape Finisterre by an English man-of-war, and a merchant of -Rochelle, being a passenger, was taken on board, and brought into -Plymouth. This man had made great solicitation by his friends to be -exchanged, pleading poverty, and that he was unable to pay any ransom. -My friend told me something of it, but not much, only bade me not be -too forward to pay any money to the captain, but pretend I could not -hear from England. This I did till the captain appeared impatient. - -After some time the captain told me I had used him ill; that I had -made him expect a ransom, and he had treated me courteously and been -at expense to subsist me, and that I held him in suspense, but that, -in short, if I did not procure the money, he would send me to Dinan in -ten days, to lie there as the king's prisoner till I should be -exchanged. My merchant gave me my cue, and by his direction I answered -I was very sensible of his civility, and sorry he should lose what -expenses he had been at, but that I found my friends forgot me, and -what to do I did not know, and that, rather than impose upon him, I -must submit to go to Dinan, or where he thought fit to send me; but -that if ever I obtained my liberty, and came into England, I would not -fail to reimburse him what expense he had been at for my subsistence; -and so, in short, made my case very bad in all my discourse. He shook -his head and said little, but the next day entered me in the list of -English prisoners to be at the king's charge, as appointed by the -intendant of the place, and to be sent away into Brittany. - -I was then out of the captain's power, and immediately the merchant, -with two others who were friends to the merchant prisoner at Plymouth, -went to the intendant and gained an order for the exchange, and my -friend giving security for my being forthcoming, in case the other was -not delivered, I had my liberty immediately, and went home with him to -his house. - -Thus we bilked the captain of his ransom money. But, however, my -friend went to him, and letting him know that I was exchanged by the -governor's order, paid him whatever he could say he was in disburse on -my account; and it was not then in the captain's power to object, or -to claim anything for a ransom. - -I got passage from hence to Dunkirk on board a French vessel, and -having a certificate of an exchanged prisoner from the intendent at -Bordeaux, I had a passport given me to go into the Spanish -Netherlands, and so whither I pleased. - -Accordingly I came to Ghent, in April----, just as the armies were -going to take the field. I had no dislike to the business of the army, -but I thought I was a little above it now, and had other things to -look to; for that, in my opinion, nobody went into the field but those -that could not live at home. And yet I resolved to see the manner of -it a little too, so, having made an acquaintance with an English -officer quartered at Ghent, I told him my intention, and he invited me -to go with him, and offered me his protection as a volunteer, that I -should quarter with him in his tent, and live as I would, and either -carry arms or not, as I saw occasion. - -The campaign was none of the hardest that had been, or was like to be; -so that I had the diversion of seeing the service, as it was proper to -call it, without much hazard. Indeed I did not see any considerable -action, for there was not much fighting that campaign. As to the merit -of the cause on either side, I knew nothing of it, nor had I suffered -any of the disputes about it to enter into my thoughts. The Prince of -Orange had been made king of England, and the English troops were all -on his side; and I heard a great deal of swearing and damning for King -William among the soldiers. But as for fighting, I observed the French -beat them several times, and particularly the regiment my friend -belonged to was surrounded in a village where they were posted, I knew -not upon what occasion, and all taken prisoners. But by great good -hap, I, being not in service, and so not in command, was strolled away -that day to see the country about; for it was my delight to see the -strong towns, and observe the beauty of their fortifications; and -while I diverted myself thus, I had the happy deliverance of not being -taken by the French for that time. - -When I came back I found the enemy possessed of the town, but as I -was no soldier they did me no harm, and having my French passport in -my pocket, they gave me leave to go to Nieuport, where I took the -packet-boat and came over to England, landing at Deal instead of -Dover, the weather forcing us into the Downs; and thus my short -campaign ended, and this was my second essay at the trade of -soldiering. - -When I came to London I was very well received by my friend, to -whom I had consigned my effects, and I found myself in very good -circumstances; for all my goods, which, as above, by several ships, I -had consigned to him, came safe to hand; and my overseers that I had -left behind had shipped at several times four hundred hogsheads of -tobacco to my correspondent in my absence, being the product of my -plantation, or part of it, for the time of my being abroad; so that I -had above 1000 in my factor's hands, two hundred hogsheads of tobacco -besides left in hand, not sold. - -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 thing in the -world to do; for I was grown out of everybody's knowledge, 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 inquiring at the -proper place, had been rambling about the world, came to London, fell -into his own 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 Jacque, who I called major, followed the like wicked trade, -but was a man of more gallantry and generosity; and having committed -innumerable depredations upon mankind, yet had 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, with 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 -with so much success that he 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 generously, as they called it, without -murdering or wounding, or ill-using those they robbed;--I say, he had -the honour to be broke 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 who I got the -knowledge of without letting them so much as guess at who I was or -upon what account I inquired. - -I was now at the height of my good fortune. Indeed I was in very good -circumstances, and being of a frugal temper from the beginning, I -saved things together as they came, and yet lived very well too. -Particularly I had the reputation of a very considerable merchant, and -one that came over vastly rich from Virginia; and as I frequently -bought supplies for my several families and plantations there as they -wrote to me for them, so I passed, I say, for a great merchant. - -I lived single, indeed, and in lodgings, but I began to be very well -known, and though I had subscribed my name only "Jack" to my -particular correspondent, yet the French, among whom I lived near a -year, as I have said, not understanding what Jack meant, called me -Monsieur Jacques and Colonel Jacques, and so gradually Colonel Jacque. -So I was called in the certificate of exchanging me with the other -prisoner, so that I went so also into Flanders; upon which, and seeing -my certificate of exchange, as above, I was called Colonel Jacques in -England by my friend who I called correspondent. And thus I passed for -a foreigner and a Frenchman, and I was infinitely fond of having -everybody take me for a Frenchman; and as I spoke French very well, -having learned it by continuing so long among them, so I went -constantly to the French church in London, and spoke French upon all -occasions as much as I could; and, to complete the appearance of it, I -got me a French servant to do my business--I mean as to my -merchandise, which only consisted in receiving and disposing of -tobacco, of which I had about five hundred to six hundred hogsheads a -year from my own plantations, and in supplying my people with -necessaries 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 my 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 indeed. She went very well dressed, and -was a most beautiful person. She was well-bred, sung admirably fine, -and sometimes I could hear her very distinctly, the houses being over -against one another, in a narrow court, not much unlike Three King -Court in Lombard Street. - -This lady put herself so often in my way that I could not in good -manners forbear taking notice of her, and giving her 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 I lodged at, 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. - -I was a mere boy in the affair of love, and knew the least of what -belonged to a woman of 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. - -But I know not by what witchcraft in the conversation of this woman, -and her singling me out upon several occasions, I began to be -ensnared, I knew not how, or to what end; and was on a sudden so -embarrassed in my thoughts about her that, like a charm, she had me -always in her circle. If she had not been one of the subtlest women on -earth, she could never have brought me to have given myself the least -trouble about her, but I was drawn in by the magic of a genius capable -to deceive a more wary capacity than mine, and it was impossible to -resist her. - -She attacked me without ceasing, with the fineness 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 obstructions, 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 the bay several months. - -All this while nothing was more certain than that she intended -to have me, if she could catch; and it was indeed a kind of a catch, -for she managed all by art, and drew me in with the most resolute -backwardness, that it was almost impossible not to be deceived by it. -On the other hand, she did not appear to be a woman despicable, -neither was she poor, or in a condition that should require so much -art to draw any man in; but the cheat was really on my side; for she -was unhappily told that I was vastly rich, a great merchant, and that -she would live like a queen; which I was not at all instrumental in -putting upon her, neither did I know that she went upon that motive. - -She was too cunning to let me perceive how easy she was to be had; on -the contrary, she run all the hazards of bringing me to neglect her -entirely that one would think any woman in the world could do. And I -have wondered often since how that it was possible it should fail of -making me perfectly averse to her; for as I had a perfect indifferency -for the whole sex, and never till then entertained any notion of them, -they were no more to me than a picture hanging up against a wall. - -As we conversed freely together in public, so she took a great many -occasions to rally the men, and the weakness they were guilty of in -letting the women insult them as they did. She thought if the men had -not been fools, marriage had been only treaties of peace between two -neighbours, or alliances offensive or defensive, which must -necessarily have been carried on sometimes by interviews and personal -treaties, but oftener by ambassadors, agents, and emissaries on both -sides; but that the women had outwitted us, and brought us upon our -knees, and made us whine after them, and lower ourselves, so as we -could never pretend to gain our equality again. - -I told her I thought it was a decency to the ladies to give them the -advantage of denying a little, that they might be courted, and that I -should not like a woman the worse for denying me. "I expect it, -madam," says I, "when I wait on you to-morrow;" intimating that I -intended it. "You shan't be deceived, sir," says she, "for I'll deny -now, before you ask me the question." - -I was dashed so effectually with so malicious, so devilish an answer -that I returned with a little sullenness, "I shan't trespass upon you -yet, madam; and I shall be very careful not to offend you when I do." - -"It is the greatest token of your respect, sir," says she, "that you -are able to bestow upon me, and the most agreeable too, except one, -which I will not be out of hopes of obtaining of you in a little -time." - -"What is in my power to oblige you in, madam," said I, "you may -command me in at any time, especially the way we are talking of." This -I spoke still with a resentment very sincere. - -"It is only, sir, that you would promise to hate me with as much -sincerity as I will endeavour to make you a suitable return." - -"I granted that request, madam, seven years before you asked it," said -I, "for I heartily hated the whole sex, and scarce know how I came to -abate that good disposition in compliment to your conversation; but I -assure you that abatement is so little that it does no injury to your -proposal." - -"There's some mystery in that indeed, sir," said she, "for I desire to -assist your aversion to women in a more particular manner, and hoped -it should never abate under my management." We said a thousand -ill-natured things after this, but she outdid me, for she had such a -stock of bitterness upon her tongue as no woman ever went beyond her, -and yet all this while she was the pleasantest and most obliging -creature in every part of our conversation that could possibly be, and -meant not one word of what she said; no, not a word. But I must -confess it no way answered her end, for it really cooled all my -thoughts of her, and I, that had lived in so perfect an indifferency -to the sex all my days, was easily returned to that condition again, -and began to grow very cold and negligent in my usual respects to her -upon all occasions. - -She soon found she had gone too far with me, and, in short, that she -was extremely out in her politics; that she had to do with one that -was not listed yet among the whining sort of lovers, and knew not what -it was to adore a mistress in order to abuse her; and that it was not -with me as it was with the usual sort of men in love, that are warmed -by the cold, and rise in their passions as the ladies fall in their -returns. On the contrary, she found that it was quite altered. I was -civil to her, as before, but not so forward. When I saw her at her -chamber-window, I did not throw mine open, as I usually had done, to -talk with her. When she sung in the parlour, where I could easily hear -it, I did not listen. When she visited at the house where I lodged, I -did not always come down; or if I did, I had business which obliged me -to go abroad; and yet all this while, when I did come into her -company, I was as intimate as ever. - -I could easily see that this madded her to the heart, and that she -was perplexed to the last degree, for she found that she had all her -game to play over again; that so absolute a reservedness, even to -rudeness and ill manners, was a little too much; but she was a mere -posture-mistress in love, and could put herself into what shapes she -pleased. - -She was too wise to show a fondness or forwardness that looked like -kindness. She knew that was the meanest and last step a woman can -take, and lays her under the foot of the man she pretends to. Fondness -is not the last favour indeed, but it is the last favour but one that -a woman can grant, and lays her almost as low; I mean, it lays her at -the mercy of the man she shows it to; but she was not come to that -neither. This chameleon put on another colour, turned, on a sudden, -the gravest, soberest, majestic madam, so that any one would have -thought she was advanced in age in one week from two-and-twenty to -fifty, and this she carried on with so much government of herself that -it did not in the least look like art; but if it was a representation -of nature only, it was so like nature itself that nobody living can be -able to distinguish. She sung very often in her parlour, as well by -herself as with two young ladies who came often to see her. I could -see by their books, and her guitar in her hand, that she was singing; -but she never opened the window, as she was wont to do. Upon my -coming to my window, she kept her own always shut; or if it was open, -she would be sitting at work, and not look up, it may be, once in -half-an-hour. - -If she saw me by accident all this while, she would smile, and speak -as cheerfully as ever; but it was but a word or two, and so make her -honours and be gone; so that, in a word, we conversed just as we did -after I had been there a week. - -She tired me quite out at this work; for though I began the -strangeness, indeed, yet I did not design the carrying it on so far. -But she held it to the last, just in the same manner as she began it. -She came to the house where I lodged as usual, and we were often -together, supped together, played at cards together, danced together; -for in France I accomplished myself with everything that was needful -to make me what I believed myself to be even from a boy--I mean a -gentleman. I say, we conversed together, as above, but she was so -perfectly another thing to what she used to be in every part of her -conversation that it presently occurred to me that her former -behaviour was a kind of a rant or fit; that either it was the effect -of some extraordinary levity that had come upon her, or that it was -done to mimic the coquets of the town, believing it might take with -me, who she thought was a Frenchman, and that it was what I loved. But -her new gravity was her real natural temper, and indeed it became her -so much better, or, as I should say, she acted it so well, that it -really brought me back to have, not as much only, but more mind to her -than ever I had before. - -However, it was a great while before I discovered myself, and I stayed -indeed to find out, if possible, whether this change was real or -counterfeit; for I could not easily believe it was possible the gay -humour she used to appear in could be a counterfeit. It was not, -therefore, till a year and almost a quarter that I came to any -resolution in my thoughts about her, when, on a mere accident, we came -to a little conversation together. - -She came to visit at our house as usual, and it happened all the -ladies were gone abroad; but, as it fell out, I was in the passage or -entry of the house, going towards the stairs, when she knocked at the -door; so, stepping back, I opened the door, and she, without any -ceremony, came in, and ran forward into the parlour, supposing the -women had been there. I went in after her, as I could do no less, -because she did not know that the family was abroad. - -Upon my coming in she asked for the ladies. I told her I hoped she -came to visit me now, for that the ladies were all gone abroad. "Are -they?" said she, as if surprised--though I understood afterwards she -knew it before, as also that I was at home--and then rises up to be -gone. "No, madam," said I, "pray do not go; when ladies come to visit -me, I do not use to tire them of my company so soon." "That's as -ill-natured," says she, "as you could possibly talk. Pray don't -pretend I came to visit you. I am satisfied who I came to visit, and -satisfied that you know it." "Yes, madam," said I; "but if I happen to -be all of the family that's left at home, then you came to visit me." - - -[Illustration: COLONEL JACQUE AND THE LADY] - -"I never receive visits from those that I hate," says she. - -"You have me there, indeed," said I; "but you never gave me leave to -tell you why I hated you. I hated you because you would never give me -an opportunity to tell you I loved you. Sure, you took me for some -frightful creature, that you would never come near enough so much as -to let me whisper to you that I love you." - -"I never care to hear anything so disagreeable," says she, "though it -be spoken ever so softly." - -We rallied thus for an hour. In short, she showed the abundance of her -wit, and I an abundant deficiency of mine; for though three or four -times she provoked me to the last degree, so that once I was going to -tell her I had enough of her company, and, if she pleased I would wait -upon her to the door, yet she had always so much witchcraft on her -tongue that she brought herself off again; till, to make the story -short, we came at last to talk seriously on both sides about -matrimony, and she heard me freely propose it, and answered me -directly upon many occasions. For example, she told me I would carry -her away to France or to Virginia, and that she could not think of -leaving England, her native country. I told her I hoped she did not -take me for a kidnapper. (By the way, I did not tell her how I had -been kidnapped myself.) She said no; but the consequence of my -affairs, which were, it seems, mostly abroad, might oblige me to go, -and she could never think of marrying any man that she could not be -content to go all over the world with, if he had occasion to go -himself. This was handsomely expressed indeed. I made her easy on that -point, and thus we began the grand parley; which indeed she drew me -into with the utmost art and subtilty, such as was peculiar to -herself, but was infinitely her advantage in our treating of marriage; -for she made me effectually court her, though at the same time in her -design she courted me with the utmost skill, and such skill it was -that her design was perfectly impenetrable to the last moment. - -In short, we came nearer and nearer every time we met; and after one -casual visit more, in which I had the mighty favour of talking with -her alone, I then waited on her every day at her own house, or -lodgings rather, and so we set about the work to a purpose, and in -about a month we gave the world the slip, and were privately married, -to avoid ceremony and the public inconveniency of a wedding. - -We soon found a house proper for our dwelling, and so went to -housekeeping. We had not been long together but I found that gay -temper of my wife returned, and she threw off the mask of her gravity -and good conduct, that I had so long fancied was her mere natural -disposition; and now, having no more occasion for disguises, she -resolved to seem nothing but what really she was, a wild, untamed -colt, perfectly loose, and careless to conceal any part, no, not the -worst of her conduct. - -She carried on this air of levity to such an excess that I could not -but be dissatisfied at the expense of it; for she kept company that I -did not like, lived beyond what I could support, and sometimes lost at -play more than I cared to pay. Upon which, one day, I took occasion to -mention it, but lightly; and said to her, by way of raillery, that we -lived merrily, for as long as it would last. She turned short upon me, -"What do you mean?" says she. "Why, you don't pretend to be uneasy, do -ye?" "No, no, madam, not I, by no means; it is no business of mine, -you know," said I, "to inquire what my wife spends, or whether she -spends more than I can afford, or less. I only desire the favour to -know, as near as you can guess, how long you will please to take to -despatch me, for I would not be too long a-dying." - -"I do not know what you talk of," says she. "You may die as leisurely, -or as hastily, as you please, when your time comes; I a'nt a-going to -kill you, as I know of." - -"But you are a-going to starve me, madam," said I, "and hunger is as -leisurely a death as breaking upon the wheel." - -"I starve you! Why, are not you a great Virginia merchant, and did not -I bring you 1500? What would you have? Sure, you can maintain a wife -out of that, can't you?" - -"Yes, madam," says I, "I could maintain a wife, but not a gamester, -though you had brought me 1500 a year; no estate is big enough for a -box and dice." - -She took fire at that, and flew out in a passion, and after a great -many bitter words, told me, in short, that she saw no occasion to -alter her conduct; and as for my not maintaining her, when I could not -maintain her longer she would find some way or other to maintain -herself. - -Some time after the first rattle of this kind, she vouchsafed to let -me know that she was pleased to be with child. I was at first glad of -it, in hopes it would help to abate her madness; but it was all one, -and her being with child only added to the rest, for she made such -preparations for her lying-in, and the other appendixes of a child's -being born, that, in short, I found she would be downright distracted. -And I took the liberty to tell her one day that she would soon bring -herself and me to destruction, and entreated her to consider that such -figures as those were quite above us, and out of our circle; and, in -short, that I neither could nor would allow such expenses; that, at -this rate, two or three children would effectually ruin me, and that I -desired her to consider what she was doing. - -She told me, with an air of disdain, that it was none of her business -to consider anything of that matter; that if I could not allow it, she -would allow it herself, and I might do my worst. - -I begged her to consider things for all that, and not drive me to -extremities; that I married her to love and cherish her, and use her -as a good wife ought to be used, but not to be ruined and undone by -her. In a word, nothing could mollify her, nor any argument persuade -her to moderation, but withal she took it so heinously that I should -pretend to restrain her, that she told me in so many words she would -drop her burthen with me, and then, if I did not like it, she would -take care of herself; she would not live with me an hour, for she -would not be restrained, not she; and talked a long while at that -rate. - -I told her, as to her child, which she called her burthen, it should -be no burthen to me; as to the rest, she might do as she pleased; it -might, however, do me this favour, that I should have no more lyings -in at the rate of 136 at a time, as I found she intended it should be -now. She told me she could not tell that; if she had no more by me, -she hoped she should by somebody else. "Say you so, madam?" said I. -"Then they that get them shall keep them." She did not know that -neither, she said, and so turned it off jeering, and, as it were, -laughing at me. - -This last discourse nettled me, I must confess, and the more because I -had a great deal of it and very often, till, in short, we began at -length to enter into a friendly treaty about parting. - -Nothing could be more criminal than the several discourses we had upon -this subject. She demanded a separate maintenance, and, in particular, -at the rate of 300 a year, and I demanded security of her that she -should not run me in debt. She demanded the keeping of the child, with -an allowance of 100 a year for that, and I demanded that I should be -secured from being charged for keeping any she might have by somebody -else, as she had threatened me. - -In the interval, and during these contests, she dropped her burthen -(as she called it), and brought me a son, a very fine child. - -She was content during her lying-in to abate a little, though it was -but a very little indeed, of the great expense she had intended, and, -with some difficulty and persuasion, was content with a suit of -child-bed linen of 15 instead of one she had intended of threescore; -and this she magnified as a particular testimony of her condescension -and a yielding to my avaricious temper, as she called it. But after -she was up again, it was the same thing, and she went on with her -humour to that degree that in a little time she began to carry it on -to other excesses, and to have a sort of fellows come to visit her, -which I did not like, and once, in particular, stayed abroad all -night. The next day, when she came home, she began to cry out first; -told me where (as she said) she lay, and that the occasion was a -christening, where the company had a feast and stayed too late; that, -if I was dissatisfied, I might inform myself there of all the -particulars, where she lay, and the like. I told her coldly, "Madam, -you do well to suggest my being dissatisfied, for you may be sure I -am, and you could expect no other; that as to going to your haunts to -inform myself, that is not my business: it is your business to bring -testimonies of your behaviour, and to prove where you lay, and in what -company. It is enough to me that you lay out of your own house, -without your husband's knowledge or consent, and before you and I -converse again I must have some satisfaction of the particulars." - -She answered, with all her heart; she was as in different as I; and -since I took so ill her lying at a friend's house on an extraordinary -occasion, she gave me to understand that it was what she would have me -expect, and what she would have the liberty to do when she thought -fit. - -"Well, madam," said I, "if I must expect what I cannot allow, you must -expect I shall shut my doors by day against those that keep out of -them at night." - -She would try me, she said, very speedily; and if I shut the doors -against her, she would find a way to make me open them. - -"Well, madam," says I, "you threaten me hard, but I would advise you -to consider before you take such measures, for I shall be as good as -my word." However, it was not long that we could live together upon -these terms; for I found very quickly what company she kept, and that -she took a course which I ought not to bear. So I began the separation -first, and refused her my bed. We had indeed refrained all converse as -husband and wife for about two months before, for I told her very -plainly I would father no brats that were not of my own getting; and -matters coming thus gradually to an extremity, too great to continue -as it was, she went off one afternoon, and left me a line in writing, -signifying that affairs had come to such a pass between us that she -did not think fit to give me the opportunity of shutting her out of -doors, and that therefore she had retired herself to such a place, -naming a relation of her own, as scandalous as herself; and that she -hoped I would not give her the trouble to sue for her support in the -ordinary course of law, but that, as her occasions required, she -should draw bills upon me, which she expected I would not refuse. - -I was extremely satisfied with this proceeding, and took care to let -her hear of it, though I gave no answer at all to her letter; and as I -had taken care before that whenever she played such a prank as this, -she should not be able to carry much with her, so, after she was gone, -I immediately broke up housekeeping, sold my furniture by public -outcry, and in it everything in particular that was her own, and set a -bill upon my door, giving her to understand by it that she had passed -the Rubicon, that as she had taken such a step of her own accord, so -there was no room left her ever to think of coming back again. - -This was what any one may believe I should not have done if I had seen -any room for a reformation; but she had given me such testimonies of a -mind alienated from her husband, in particular espousing her own -unsufferable levity, that there was indeed no possibility of our -coming afterwards to any terms again. - -However, I kept a couple of trusty agents so near her that I failed -not to have a full account of her conduct, though I never let her know -anything of me but that I was gone over to France. As to her bills -which she said she would draw upon me, she was as good as her word in -drawing one of 30, which I refused to accept, and never gave her -leave to trouble me with another. - -It is true, and I must acknowledge it, that all this was a very -melancholy scene of life to me, and but that she took care by carrying -herself to the last degree provoking, and continually to insult me, I -could never have gone on to the parting with so much resolution; for I -really loved her very sincerely, and could have been anything but a -beggar and a cuckold with her, but those were intolerable to me, -especially as they were put upon me with so much insult and rudeness. - -But my wife carried it at last to a point that made all things light -and easy to me, for after above a year's separation, and keeping such -company as she thought fit, she was pleased to be with child again, in -which she had, however, so much honesty as not to pretend that she had -had anything to do with me. What a wretched life she led after this, -and how she brought herself to the utmost extremity of misery and -distress, I may speak of hereafter. - -I had found, soon after our parting, that I had a great deal of reason -to put myself into a posture at first not to be imposed upon by her; -for I found very quickly that she had run herself into debt in several -places very considerably, and that it was upon a supposition that I -was liable to those debts. But I was gone, and it was absolutely -necessary I should do so; upon which she found herself obliged, out of -her wicked gains, however, whatever she made of them, to discharge -most of those debts herself. - -As soon as she was delivered of her child, in which my intelligence -was so good that I had gotten sufficient proof of it, I sued her in -the ecclesiastical court, in order to obtain a divorce; and as she -found it impossible to avoid it, so she declined the defence, and I -gained a legal decree, or what they call it, of divorce, in the usual -time of such process; and now I thought myself a free man once again, -and began to be sick of wedlock with all my heart. - -I lived retired, because I knew she had contracted debts which I -should be obliged to pay, and I was resolved to be gone out of her -reach with what speed I could. But it was necessary that I should stay -till the Virginia fleet came in, because I looked for at least three -hundred hogsheads of tobacco from thence, which I knew would heal all -my breaches; for indeed the extravagance of three years with this lady -had sunk me most effectually, even far beyond her own fortune, which -was considerable, though not quite 1500, as she had called it. - -But all the mischiefs I met with on account of this match were not -over yet; for when I had been parted with her about three months, and -had refused to accept her bill of 30, which I mentioned above, though -I was removed from my first lodgings too, and thought I had -effectually secured myself from being found out, yet there came a -gentleman well dressed to my lodgings one day, and was let in before I -knew of it, or else I should scarce have admitted him. - -He was led into a parlour, and I came down to him in my gown and -slippers. When I came into the room he called me as familiarly -by my name as if he had known me twenty years, and pulling out a -pocket-book, he shows me a bill upon me, drawn by my wife, which was -the same bill for 30 that I had refused before. - -"Sir," says I, "this bill has been presented before, and I gave my -answer to it then." - -"Answer, sir!" says he, with a kind of jeering, taunting air. "I do -not understand what you mean by an answer; it is not a question, sir; -it is a bill to be paid." - -"Well, sir," says I, "it is a bill; I know that, and I gave my answer -to it before." - -"Sir, sir," says he very saucily, "your answer! There is no answer to -a bill; it must be paid. Bills are to be paid, not to be answered. -They say you are a merchant, sir; merchants always pay their bills." - -I began to be angry too a little, but I did not like my man, for I -found he began to be quarrelsome. However, I said, "Sir, I perceive -you are not much used to presenting bills. Sir, a bill is always first -presented, and presenting is a question; it is asking if I will accept -or pay the bill, and then whether I say yes or no, it is an answer one -way or other. After 'tis accepted, it indeed requires no more answer -but payment when 'tis due. If you please to inform yourself, this is -the usage which all merchants or tradesmen of any kind who have bills -drawn upon them act by." - -"Well, sir," says he, "and what then? What is this to the paying me -the 30?" - -"Why, sir," says I, "it is this to it, that I told the person that -brought it I should not pay it." - -"Not pay it!" says he. "But you shall pay it; ay, ay, you will pay -it." - -"She that draws it has no reason to draw any bills upon me, I am -sure," said I; "and I shall pay no bills she draws, I assure you." - -Upon this he turns short upon me: "Sir, she that draws this bill is a -person of too much honour to draw any bill without reason, and 'tis an -affront to say so of her, and I shall expect satisfaction of you for -that by itself. But first the bill, sir--the bill; you must pay the -bill, sir." - -I returned as short: "Sir, I affront nobody. I know the person as well -as you, I hope; and what I have said of her is no affront. She can -have no reason to draw bills upon me, for I owe her nothing." - -I omit intermingling the oaths he laced his speech with, as too foul -for my paper. But he told me he would make me know she had friends to -stand by her, that I had abused her, and he would let me know it, and -do her justice. But first I must pay his bill. - -I answered, in short, I would not pay the bill, nor any bills she -should draw. - -With that he steps to the door and shuts it, and swore by G--d he -would make me pay the bill before we parted, and laid his hand upon -his sword, but did not draw it out. - -I confess I was frighted to the last degree, for I had no sword; and -if I had, I must own that, though I had learned a great many good -things in France to make me look like a gentleman, I had forgot the -main article of learning how to use a sword, a thing so universally -practised there; and, to say more, I had been perfectly unacquainted -with quarrels of this nature; so that I was perfectly surprised when -he shut the door, and knew not what to say or do. - -However, as it happened, the people of the house, hearing us pretty -loud, came near the door, and made a noise in the entry to let me know -they were at hand; and one of the servants, going to open the door, -and finding it locked, called out to me, "Sir, for God's sake open the -door! What is the matter? Shall we fetch a constable?" I made no -answer, but it gave me courage; so I sat down composed in one of the -chairs, and said to him, "Sir, this is not the way to make me pay the -bill; you had much better be easy, and take your satisfaction another -way." - -He understood me of fighting, which, upon my word, was not in my -thoughts; but I meant that he had better take his course at law. - -"With all my heart," says he; "they say you are a gentleman, and they -call you colonel. Now, if you are a gentleman, I accept your -challenge, sir; and if you will walk out with me, I will take it for -full payment of the bill, and will decide it as gentlemen ought to -do." - -"I challenge you, sir!" said I. "Not I; I made no challenge," I said. -"This is not the way to make me pay a bill that I have not accepted; -that is, that you had better seek your satisfaction at law." - -"Law!" says he; "law! Gentlemen's law is my law. In short, sir, you -shall pay me or fight me." And then, as if he had mistaken, he turns -short upon me, "Nay," says he, "you shall both fight me and pay me, -for I will maintain her honour;" and in saying this he bestowed about -six or seven "damme's" and oaths, by way of parenthesis. - -This interval delivered me effectually, for just at the words "fight -me, for I will maintain her honour," the maid had brought in a -constable, with three or four neighbours to assist him. - -He heard them come in, and began to be a little in a rage, and asked -me if I intended to mob him instead of paying; and laying his hand on -his sword, told me, if any man offered to break in upon him, he would -run me through the first moment, that he might have the fewer to deal -with afterwards. - -I told him he knew I had called for no help (believing he could not be -in earnest in what he had said), and that, if anybody attempted to -come in upon us, it was to prevent the mischief he threatened, and -which he might see I had no weapons to resist. - -Upon this the constable called, and charged us both in the king's name -to open the door. I was sitting in a chair, and offered to rise. He -made a motion as if he would draw, upon which I sat down again, and -the door not being opened, the constable set his foot against it and -came in. - -"Well, sir," says my gentleman, "and what now? What's your business -here?" "Nay, sir," says the constable, "you see my business. I am a -peace-officer; all I have to do is to keep the peace, and I find the -people of the house frightened for fear of mischief between you, and -they have fetched me to prevent it." "What mischief have they supposed -you should find?" says he. "I suppose," says the constable, "they were -afraid you should fight." "That's because they did not know this -fellow here. He never fights. They call him colonel," says he. "I -suppose he might be born a colonel, for I dare say he was born a -coward; he never fights; he dares not see a man. If he would have -fought, he would have walked out with me, but he scorns to be brave; -they would never have talked to you of fighting if they had known him. -I tell you, Mr. Constable, he is a coward, and a coward is a rascal;" -and with that he came to me, and stroked his finger down my nose -pretty hard, and laughed and mocked most horribly, as if I was a -coward. Now, for aught I knew, it might be true, but I was now what -they call a coward made desperate, which is one of the worst of men in -the world to encounter with; for, being in a fury, I threw my head in -his face, and closing with him, threw him fairly on his back by mere -strength; and had not the constable stepped in and taken me off, I had -certainly stamped him to death with my feet, for my blood was now all -in a flame, and the people of the house were frighted now as much the -other way, lest I should kill him, though I had no weapon at all in my -hand. - -The constable too reproved me in his turn; but I said to him, "Mr. -Constable, do you not think I am sufficiently provoked? Can any man -bear such things as these? I desire to know who this man is and who -sent him hither." - -"I am," says he, "a gentleman, and come with a bill to him for money, -and he refuses to pay it." "Well," says the constable very prudently, -"that is none of my business; I am no justice of the peace to hear the -cause. Be that among yourselves, but keep your hands off one another, -and that is as much as I desire; and therefore, sir," says the -constable to him, "if I may advise you, seeing he will not pay the -bill, and that must be decided between you as the law directs, I would -have you leave it for the present and go quietly away." - -He made many impertinent harangues about the bill, and insisted that -it was drawn by my own wife. I said angrily, "Then it was drawn by a -whore." He bullied me upon that, told me I durst not tell him so -anywhere else; so I answered, "I would very soon publish her for a -whore to all the world, and cry her down;" and thus we scolded for -near half-an-hour, for I took courage when the constable was there, -for I knew that he would keep us from fighting, which indeed I had no -mind to, and so at length I got rid of him. - -I was heartily vexed at this rencounter, and the more because I had -been found out in my lodging, which I thought I had effectually -concealed. However, I resolved to remove the next day, and in the -meantime I kept within doors all that day till the evening, and then I -went out in order not to return thither any more. - -Being come out into Gracechurch Street, I observed a man follow me, -with one of his legs tied up in a string, and hopping along with the -other, and two crutches; he begged for a farthing, but I inclining not -to give him anything, the fellow followed me still, till I came to a -court, when I answered hastily to him, "I have nothing for you! Pray -do not be so troublesome!" with which words he knocked me down with -one of his crutches. - -Being stunned with the blow, I knew nothing what was done to me -afterwards; but coming to myself again, I found I was wounded very -frightfully in several places, and that among the rest my nose was -slit upwards, one of my ears cut almost off, and a great cut with a -sword on the side of the forehead; also a stab into the body, though -not dangerous. - -Who had been near me, or struck me, besides the cripple that struck me -with his crutch, I knew not, nor do I know to this hour; but I was -terribly wounded, and lay bleeding on the ground some time, till, -coming to myself, I got strength to cry out for help, and people -coming about me, I got some hands to carry me to my lodging, where I -lay by it more than two months before I was well enough to go out of -doors; and when I did go out, I had reason to believe that I was -waited for by some rogues, who watched an opportunity to repeat the -injury I had met with before. - -This made me very uneasy, and I resolved to get myself out of danger -if possible, and to go over to France, or home, as I called it, to -Virginia, so to be out of the way of villains and assassinations; for -every time I stirred out here I thought I went in danger of my life; -and therefore, as before, I went out at night, thinking to be -concealed, so now I never went out but in open day, that I might be -safe, and never without one or two servants to be my lifeguard. - -But I must do my wife a piece of justice here too, and that was, that, -hearing what had befallen me, she wrote me a letter, in which she -treated me more decently than she had been wont to do. She said she -was very sorry to hear how I had been used, and the rather because she -understood it was on presenting her bill to me. She said she hoped I -could not, in my worst dispositions, think so hardly of her as to -believe it was done by her knowledge or consent, much less by her -order or direction; that she abhorred such things, and protested, if -she had the least knowledge or so much as a guess at the villains -concerned, she would discover them to me. She let me know the person's -name to whom she gave the bill, and where he lived, and left it to me -to oblige him to discover the person who had brought it and used me so -ill, and wished I might find him and bring him to justice, and have -him punished with the utmost severity of the law. - -I took this so kindly of my wife that I think in my conscience, had -she come after it herself to see how I did, I had certainly taken her -again; but she satisfied herself with the civility of another letter, -and desiring me to let her know as often as I could how I was; adding -that it would be infinitely to her satisfaction to hear I was -recovered of the hurt I had received, and that he was hanged at Tyburn -who had done it. - -She used some expressions signifying, as I understood them, her -affliction at our parting and her continued respect for me; but did -not make any motion towards returning. Then she used some arguments to -move me to pay her bills, intimating that she had brought me a large -fortune, and now had nothing to subsist on, which was very severe. - -I wrote her an answer to this letter, though I had not to the other, -letting her know how I had been used; that I was satisfied, upon her -letter, that she had no hand in it; that it was not in her nature to -treat me so, who had never injured her, used any violence with her, or -been the cause or desire of our parting; that, as to her bill, she -could not but know how much her expensive way of living had straitened -and reduced me, and would, if continued, have ruined me; that she had -in less than three years spent more than as much as she brought to me, -and would not abate her expensive way, though calmly entreated by me, -with protestations that I could not support so great an expense, but -chose rather to break up her family and go from me than to restrain -herself to reasonable limits; though I used no violence with her, but -entreaties and earnest persuasions, backed with good reason; letting -her know how my estate was, and convincing her that it must reduce us -to poverty at least; that, however, if she would recall her bill, I -would send her 30, which was the sum mentioned in her bill, and, -according to my ability, would not let her want, if she pleased to -live within due bounds; but then I let her know also that I had a very -bad account of her conduct, and that she kept company with a -scandalous fellow, who I named to her; that I was loth to believe such -things of her, but that, to put an entire end to the report and -restore her reputation, I let her know that still, after all I heard, -if she would resolve to live without restraints, within the reasonable -bounds of my capacity, and treat me with the same kindness, affection, -and tenderness as I always had treated her, and ever would, I was -willing to receive her again, and would forget all that was past; but -that, if she declined me now, it would be forever; for if she did not -accept my offer, I was resolved to stay here no longer, where I had -been so ill-treated on many occasions, but was preparing to go into my -own country, where I would spend my days in quiet, and in a retreat -from the world. - -She did not give such an answer to this as I expected; for though she -thanked me for the 30, yet she insisted upon her justification in all -other points; and though she did not refuse to return to me, yet she -did not say she accepted it, and, in short, said little or nothing to -it, only a kind of claim to a reparation of her injured reputation, -and the like. - -This gave me some surprise at first, for I thought, indeed, any woman -in her circumstances would have been very willing to have put an end -to all her miseries, and to the reproach which was upon her, by a -reconciliation, especially considering she subsisted at that time but -very meanly. But there was a particular reason which prevented her -return, and which she could not plead to in her letter, yet was a good -reason against accepting an offer which she would otherwise have been -glad of; and this was, that, as I have mentioned above, she had fallen -into bad company, and had prostituted her virtue to some of her -flatterers, and, in short, was with child; so that she durst not -venture to accept my offer. - -However, as I observed above, she did not absolutely refuse it, -intending (as I understood afterward) to keep the treaty of it on foot -till she could drop her burthen, as she had called it before, and -having been delivered privately, have accepted my proposal afterward; -and, indeed, this was the most prudent step she could take, or, as we -may say, the only step she had left to take. But I was too many for -her here too. My intelligence about her was too good for her to -conceal such an affair from me, unless she had gone away before she -was visibly big, and unless she had gone farther off too than she did; -for I had an account to a tittle of the time when, and place where, -and the creature of which she was delivered; and then my offers of -taking her again were at an end, though she wrote me several very -penitent letters, acknowledging her crime and begging me to forgive -her. But my spirit was above all that now, nor could I ever bear the -thoughts of her after that, but pursued a divorce, and accordingly -obtained it, as I have mentioned already. - -Things being at this pass, I resolved, as I have observed before, to -go over to France, after I had received my effects from Virginia; and -accordingly I came to Dunkirk in the year ----, and here I fell into -company with some Irish officers of the regiment of Dillon, who by -little and little entered me into the army, and by the help of -Lieutenant-General ----, an Irishman, and some money, I obtained a -company in his regiment, and so went into the army directly. - -I was exceeding pleased with my new circumstances, and now I used to -say to myself I was come to what I was born to, and that I had never -till now lived the life of a gentleman. - -Our regiment, after I had been some time in it, was commanded into -Italy, and one of the most considerable actions that I was in was the -famous attack upon Cremona, in the Milanese, where the Germans, being -privately and by treachery let into the town in the night through a -kind of common sewer, surprised the town and got possession of the -greatest part of it, surprising the mareschal, Duke de Villeroi, and -taking him prisoner as he came out of his quarters, and beating the -few French troops which were left in the citadel; but were in the -middle of their victory so boldly and resolutely attacked by two Irish -regiments who were quartered in the street leading to the river Po, -and who kept possession of the water-gate, or Po gate, of the town, by -which the German reinforcements should have come in, that, after a -most desperate fight, the Germans had their victory wrung out of their -hands, and not being able to break through us to let in their friends, -were obliged at length to quit the town again, to the eternal honour -of those Irish regiments, and indeed of their whole nation, and for -which we had a very handsome compliment from the king of France. - -I now had the satisfaction of knowing, and that for the first time -too, that I was not that cowardly, low-spirited wretch that I was when -the fellow bullied me in my lodgings about the bill of 30. Had he -attacked me now, though in the very same condition, I should, naked -and unarmed as I was, have flown in the face of him and trampled him -under my feet. But men never know themselves till they are tried, and -courage is acquired by time and experience of things. - -Philip de Comines tells us that, after the battle of Monteleri, the -Count de Charolois, who till then had an utter aversion to the war, -and abhorred it and everything that belonged to it, was so changed by -the glory he obtained in that action, and by the flattery of those -about him, that afterwards the army was his mistress and the fatigues -of the war his chief delight. It is too great an example for me to -bring in my own case, but so it was, that they flattered me so with my -bravery, as they called it, on the occasion of this action, that I -fancied myself brave, whether I was so or not, and the pride of it -made me bold and daring to the last degree on all occasions. But what -added to it was, that somebody gave a particular account to the Court -of my being instru mental to the saving the city, and the whole -Cremonese, by my extraordinary defence of the Po gate, and by my -managing that defence after the lieutenant-colonel who commanded the -party where I was posted was killed; upon which the king sent me a -public testimony of his accepting my service, and sent me a brevet to -be lieutenant-colonel, and the next courier brought me actually a -commission for lieutenant-colonel in the regiment of ----. - -I was in several skirmishes and petty encounters before this, by which -I gained the reputation of a good officer; but I happened to be in -some particular posts too, by which I got somewhat that I liked much -better, and that was a good deal of money. - -Our regiment was sent from France to Italy by sea. We embarked at -Toulon, and landed at Savona, in the territory of Genoa, and marched -from thence to the duchy of Milan. At the first town we were sent to -take possession of, which was Alexandria, the citizens rose upon our -men in a most furious manner, and drove the whole garrison, which -consisted of eight hundred men--that is, French and soldiers in the -French service--quite out of the town. - -I was quartered in a burgher's house, just by one of the ports, with -eight of my men and a servant, where, calling a short council with my -men, we were resolved to maintain the house we were in, whatever it -cost, till we received orders to quit it from the commanding officer. -Upon this, when I saw our men could not stand their ground in the -street, being pressed hard by the citizens, I turned out of doors all -the family, and kept the house as a castle, which I was governor in; -and as the house joined to the city gate, I resolved to maintain it, -so as to be the last that should quit the place, my own retreat being -secured by being so near the port. - -Having thus emptied the house of the inhabitants, we made no scruple -of filling our pockets with what ever we could find there. In a word, -we left nothing we could carry away, among which it came to my lot to -dip into the burgher's cabinet whose house it was where we were, and -there I took about the quantity of two hundred pistoles in money and -plate, and other things of value. There was great complaint made to -Prince Vaudemont, who was then governor of the Milanese, of this -violence. But as the repulse the citizens gave us was contrary to his -order, and to the general design of the prince, who was then wholly in -the interest of King Philip, the citizens could obtain nothing; and I -found that if we had plundered the whole city it would have been the -same thing; for the governor had orders to take our regiment in, and -it was an act of open rebellion to resist us as they did. However, we -had orders not to fire upon the burghers, unless constrained to it by -evident necessity, and we rather chose to quit the place as we did -than dispute it with a desperate body of fellows, who wanted no -advantage of us, except only that of having possession of two bastions -and one port of our retreat. First, they were treble our number; for -the burghers, being joined by seven companies of the regular troops, -made up above sixteen hundred men, besides rabble, which was many -more, whereas we were about eight hundred in all; they also had the -citadel and several pieces of cannon, so that we could have made -nothing of it if we had attacked them. But they submitted three or -four days after to other forces, the soldiers within turning upon them -and taking the citadel from them. - -After this we lay still in quarters eight months. For the prince, -having secured the whole Milanese for King Philip, and no enemy -appearing for some time, had nothing to do but to receive the -auxiliary troops of France, and as they came, extend himself every way -as he could, in order to keep the imperialists (who were preparing to -fall into Italy with a great army) as much at a distance as possible, -which he did by taking possession of the city of Mantua, and of most -of the towns on that side, as far as the Lake De la Guarda and the -river Adige. - -We lay in Mantua some time, but were afterwards drawn out by order of -the Count de Tesse (after wards Marshal of France), to form the French -army, till the arrival of the Duke de Vendme, who was to command in -chief. Here we had a severe campaign, _anno_ 1701, having Prince -Eugene of Savoy and an army of forty thousand Germans, all old -soldiers, to deal with; and though the French army was more numerous -than the enemy by twenty-five thousand men, yet, being on the -defensive, and having so many posts to cover, not knowing exactly -where the Prince of Savoy, who commanded the imperial army, would -attack us, it obliged the French to keep their troops so divided and -so remote from one another that the Germans pushed on their design -with great success, as the histories of those times more fully relate. - -I was at the action of Carpi, July 1701, where we were worsted by the -Germans; indeed, were forced to quit our encampment and give up to the -prince the whole river Adige, and where our regiment sustained some -loss. But the enemies got little by us, and Monsieur Catinat, who -commanded at that time, drew up in order of battle the next day in -sight of the German army, and gave them a defiance; but they would not -stir, though we offered them battle two days together; for, having -gained the passage over the Adige by our quitting Rivoli, which was -then useless to us, their business was done. - -Finding they declined a decisive action, our generals pressed them in -their quarters, and made them fight for every inch of ground they -gained; and at length, in the September following, we attacked them in -their intrenched posts of Chiar. Here we broke into the very heart of -their camp, where we made a very terrible slaughter. But I know not by -what mistake among our generals, or defect in the execution of their -orders, the brigade of Normandy and our Irish Brigade, who had so -bravely entered the German intrenchments, were not supported as we -should have been, so that we were obliged to sustain the shock of the -whole German army, and at last to quit the advantage we had gained, -and that not without loss; but, being timely reinforced by a great -body of horse, the enemy were in their turn beaten off too, and driven -back into their very camp. The Germans boasted of having a great -victory here, and indeed, in repulsing us after we had gained their -camp, they had the advantage. But had Monsieur de Tesse succoured us -in time, as old Catinat said he ought to have done, with twelve -thousand foot which he had with him, that day's action had put an end -to the war, and Prince Eugene must have been glad to have gone back to -Germany in more haste than he came, if, perhaps, we had not cut him -short by the way. - -But the fate of things went another way, and the Germans continued all -that campaign to push forward and advance one post after another, till -they beat us quite out of the Milanese. - -The latter part of this campaign we made only a party war, the French, -according to their volatile temper, being every day abroad, either -foraging or surprising the enemy's foragers, plundering or -circumventing the plunders of the other side. But they very often came -short home, for the Germans had the better of them on several -occasions; and indeed so many lost their lives upon these petty -encounters that I think, including those who died of distempers gotten -by hard service and bad quarters, lying in the field even till the -middle of December among rivers and bogs, in a country so full of -canals and rivers as that part of Italy is known to be; I say, we lost -more men, and so did the enemy also, than would have been lost in a -general decisive battle. - -The Duke of Savoy, to give him his due, pressed earnestly to put it to -a day and come to a battle with Prince Eugene; but the Duke de -Villeroi, Monsieur Catinat, and the Count de Tesse were all against -it; and the principal reason was, that they knew the weakness of the -troops, who had suffered so much on so many occasions that they were -in no condition to give battle to the Germans. So after, as I say, -about three months' harassing one another with parties, we went into -winter quarters. - -Before we marched out of the field, our regiment, with a detachment of -dragoons of six hundred, and about two hundred and fifty horse, went -out with a design to intercept Prince Commercy, a general of note -under Prince Eugene of Savoy. The detachment was intended to be only -horse and dragoons; but because it was the imperialists' good luck to -beat many of our parties, and, as was given out, many more than we -beat of theirs, and because it was believed that the prince, who was -an officer of good note among them, would not go abroad but in very -good company, the Irish regiment of foot was ordered to be added, -that, if possible, they might meet with their match. - -I was commanded, about two hours before, to pass about two hundred -foot and fifty dragoons at a small wood where our general had -intelligence that prince would post some men to secure his passage, -which accordingly I did. But Count Tesse, not thinking our party -strong enough, had marched himself, with a thousand horse and three -hundred grenadiers, to support us. And it was very well he did so; for -Prince Commercy, having intelligence of the first party, came forward -sooner than they expected, and fell upon them, and had entirely routed -them had not the Count, hearing the firing, advanced with the thousand -horse he had, with such expedition as to support his men in the very -heat of the action, by which means the Germans were defeated and -forced to retire. But the prince made a pretty good retreat, and after -the action came on to the wood where I was posted; but the surprise of -his defeat had prevented his sending a detachment to secure the pass -at the wood, as he intended. - -The Count de Tesse, understanding that we were sent, as above, to the -wood, followed them close at the heels, to prevent our being cut off, -and, if it were possible that we should give them any check at the -wood, to fall in and have another brush with them. It was near night -before they came to the wood, by which means they could not discern -our number. But when they came up to the wood, fifty dragoons advanced -to discover the pass and see if all was clear. These we suffered to -pass a great way into the defile, or lane, that went through the wood, -and then clapping in between them and the entrance, cut off their -retreat so effectually that when they discovered us and fired, they -were instantly surrounded and cut in pieces, the officers who -commanded them and eight dragoons only being made prisoners. - -This made the prince halt, not knowing what the case was or how strong -we were, and, to get better intelligence, sent two hundred horse to -surround or skirt the wood and beat up our quarter, and in the interim -the Count de Tesse appeared in his rear. We found the strait he was in -by the noise of our own troops at a distance; so we resolved to engage -the two hundred horse immediately. Accordingly our little troop of -horse drew up in the entrance of the lane and offered to skirmish, and -our foot, lying behind the hedge which went round the wood, stood -ready to act as occasion should offer. The horse, being attacked, gave -way, and retired into the lane; but the Germans were too old for us -there. They contented themselves to push us to the entrance, but would -not be drawn into a narrow pass without knowing whether the hedges -were lined or no. - -But the prince, finding the French in his rear, and not being strong -enough to engage again, resolved to force his way through, and -commanded his dragoons to alight and enter the wood, to clear the -hedges on either side the lane, that he might pass with his cavalry. -This they did so vigorously, and were so much too strong for us, that -though we made good our ground a long time, yet our men were almost -half of them cut in pieces. However, we gave time to the French -cavalry to come up, and to fall on the prince's troops and cut them -off, and take a great many prisoners, and then we retreated in our -turn, opening a gap for our own horse to break in. Three hundred of -the dragoons were killed, and two hundred of them taken prisoners. - -In the first heat of this action, a German officer of dragoons, well -followed, had knocked down three men that stood next me; and, offering -me quarter, I was obliged to accept it, and gave him my sword; for our -men were upon the point of quitting their post and shifting every one -as they could. But the scale was turned, for our cavalry breaking in, -as above, the dragoons went to wreck, and the officer who had me -prisoner, turning to me, said, "We are all lost." I asked him if I -could serve him. "Stand still a little," says he; for his men fought -most desperately indeed. But about two hundred French horse appearing -in his rear too, he said to me in French, "I will be your prisoner," -and returning me my sword, gave me also his own. A dragoon that stood -near him was just going to do the like, when he was shot dead, and the -horse coming up, the field was cleared in an instant. But Prince -Commercy went off with the rest of his party, and was pursued no -farther. - -There were sixteen or seventeen of our men released, as I was, from -being taken; but they had not the luck I had, to take the officer that -had them in keeping. He had been so generous to me as not to ask what -money I had about me, though I had not much if he had. But I lost by -his civility, for then I could not have the assurance to ask him for -his money, though I understood he had near a hundred pistoles about -him. But he very handsomely at night, when we came to our tents, made -me a present of twenty pistoles, and in return I obtained leave for -him to go to Prince Eugene's camp upon his parole, which he did, and -so got himself exchanged. - -It was after this campaign that I was quartered at Cremona, when the -action happened there of which I have spoken already, and where our -Irish regiment did such service that they saved the town from being -really surprised, and indeed beat the Germans out again, after they -had been masters of three-quarters of the town six hours, and by which -they gained a very great reputation. - -But I hasten on to my own history, for I am not writing a journal of -the wars, in which I had no long share. - -The summer after this our two Irish regiments were drawn out into the -field, and had many a sore brush with the Germans; for Prince Eugene, -a vigilant general, gave us little rest, and gained many advantages by -his continual moving up and down, harassing his own men and ours too; -and whoever will do the French justice, and knew how they had behaved, -must acknowledge they never declined the Germans, but fought them upon -all occasions with the utmost resolution and courage; and though it -cost the blood of an infinite number of fine gentlemen, as well as -private soldiers, yet the Duke de Vendme, who now commanded, though -King Philip was himself in the army this campaign, made the Prince of -Savoy a full return in his own kind, and drove him from post to post, -till he was just at the point of quitting the whole country of Italy. -All that gallant army Prince Eugene brought with him into Italy, which -was the best without doubt, for the goodness of the troops, that ever -were there, laid their bones in that country, and many thousands more -after them, till, the affairs of France declining in other places, -they were forced in their turn to give way to their fate, as may be -seen in the histories of those times, as above. But it is none of my -business. - -The part that I bore in these affairs was but short and sharp. We took -the field about the beginning of July 1702, and the Duke de Vendme -ordered the whole army to draw the sooner together, in order to -relieve the city of Mantua, which was blocked up by the imperialists. - -Prince Eugene was a politic, and indeed a fortunate, prince, and had -the year before pushed our army upon many occasions. But his good -fortune began to fail him a little this year, for our army was not -only more numerous than his, but the duke was in the field before him; -and as the prince had held Mantua closely blocked up all the winter, -the duke resolved to relieve the town, cost what it would. As I said, -the duke was first in the field; the prince was in no condition to -prevent his raising the blockade by force; so he drew off his troops, -and leaving several strong bodies of troops to protect Bersello, which -the Duke de Vendme threatened, and Borgo Fort, where his magazine -lay, he drew all the rest of his forces together, to make head against -us. By this time the king of Spain was come into the army, and the -Duke de Vendme lay with about thirty-five thousand men near Luzara, -which he had resolved to attack, to bring Prince Eugene to a battle. -The Prince of Vaudemont lay intrenched with twenty thousand more at -Rivalto, behind Mantua, to cover the frontiers of Milan, and there was -near twelve thousand in Mantua itself; and Monsieur Pracontal lay with -ten thousand men just under the cannon of one of the forts which guard -the causeway which leads into the city of Mantua; so that, had all -these joined, as they would have done in a few days more, the prince -must have been put to his shifts, and would have had enough to do to -have maintained himself in Italy; for he was master of no one place in -the country that could have held out a formal siege of fifteen days' -open trenches, and he knew all this very well; and therefore it seems, -while the Duke of Vendme resolved, if possible, to bring him to a -battle, and to that end made dispositions to attack Luzara, we were -surprised to find, the 15th of June 1702, the whole imperial army -appeared in _battalia_, and in full march, to attack us. - -As it happened, our army was all marching in columns towards them, as -we had done for two days before; and I should have told you that, -three days before, the duke having noticed that General Visconti, with -three imperial regiments of horse and one of dragoons, was posted at -San-Victoria, on the Tessona, he resolved to attack them; and this -design was carried so secretly, that while Monsieur Visconti, though -our army was three leagues another way, was passing towards the -Modenese, he found himself unexpectedly attacked by six thousand horse -and dragoons of the French army. He defended himself very bravely for -near an hour; when, being overpowered, and finding he should be forced -into disorder, he sounded a retreat. But the squadrons had not faced -about to make their retreat scarce a quarter of an hour, when they -found themselves surrounded with a great body of infantry, who had -entirely cut off their retreat, except over the bridge of Tessona, -which being thronged with their baggage, they could neither get -backward or forward; so they thrust and tumbled over one another in -such a manner that they could preserve no kind of order; but abundance -fell into the river and were drowned, many were killed, and more taken -prisoners; so that, in a word, the whole three regiments of horse and -one of dragoons were entirely defeated. - -This was a great blow to the prince, because they were some of the -choicest troops of his whole army. We took about four hundred -prisoners, and all their baggage, which was a very considerable booty, -and about eight hundred horses; and no doubt these troops were very -much wanted in the battle that ensued on the 15th, as I have said. Our -army being in full march, as above, to attack Luzara, a party of -Germans appeared, being about six hundred horse, and in less than an -hour more their whole army, in order of battle. - -Our army formed immediately, and the duke posted the regiments as they -came up so much to their advantage that Prince Eugene was obliged to -alter his dispositions, and had this particular inconvenience upon his -hands, viz., to attack an army superior to his own, in all their most -advantageous posts; whereas, had he thought fit to have waited but one -day, we should have met him half-way. But this was owing to the pride -of the German generals, and their being so opinionated of the goodness -of their troops. The royal army was posted with the left to the great -river Po, on the other side of which the Prince of Vaudemont's army -lay cannonading the intrenchments which the imperialists had made at -Borgo Fort; and hearing that there was like to be a general battle, he -detached twelve battalions and about a thousand horse, to reinforce -the royal army; all which, to our great encouragement, had time to -join the army, while Prince Eugene was making his new dispositions for -the attack. And yet it was the coming of these troops which caused -Prince Eugene to resolve to begin the fight, expecting to have come to -an action before they could come up. But he was disappointed in the -reason of fighting, and yet was obliged to fight too, which was an -error in the prince that it was too late to retrieve. - -It was five o'clock in the evening before he could bring up his whole -line to engage; and then, after having cannonaded us to no great -purpose for half-an-hour, his right, commanded by the Prince de -Commercy, attacked our left wing with great fury. Our men received -them so well and seconded one another so punctually that they were -repulsed with a very great slaughter; and the Prince de Commercy -being, unhappily for them, killed in the first onset, the regiments, -for want of orders, and surprised with the fall of so great a man, -were pushed into disorder, and one whole brigade was entirely broke. - -But their second line, advancing under General Herbeville, restored -things in the first. The battalions rallied, and they came boldly on -to charge a second time, and being seconded with new reinforcements -from their main body, our men had their turn, and were pushed to a -canal which lay on their left flank between them and the Po, behind -which they rallied; and being supported by new troops, as well horse -as foot, they fought on both sides with the utmost obstinacy, and with -such courage and skill that it was not possible to judge who should -have had the better could they have been able to have fought it out. - -On the right of the royal army was posted the flower of the French -cavalry--namely, the gendarmes, the royal carbineers, and the queen's -horse-guards, with four hundred horse more--and next them the -infantry, among which were our brigade. The horse advanced first to -charge, and they carried all before them sword in hand, receiving the -fire of two imperial regiments of cuirassiers without firing a shot, -and falling in among them, bore them down by the strength of their -horses, putting them into confusion, and left so clear a field for us -to follow that the first line of our infantry stood drawn up upon the -ground which the enemy at first possessed. - -In this first attack the Marquis de Crequi, who commanded the whole -right wing, was killed--a loss which fully balanced the death of the -Prince de Commercy on the side of the Germans. After we had thus -pushed the enemy's cavalry, as above, their troops, being rallied by -the dexterity of their generals and supported by three imperial -regiments of foot, came on again to the charge with such fury that -nothing could withstand them. And here two battalions of our Irish -regiments were put into disorder, and abundance of our men killed; and -here also I had the misfortune to receive a musket-shot, which broke -my left arm; and that was not all, for I was knocked down by a -giant-like German soldier, who, when he thought he had killed me, set -his foot upon me, but was immediately shot dead by one of my men, and -fell just upon me, which, my arm being broken, was a very great -mischief to me; for the very weight of the fellow, who was almost as -big as a horse, was such that I was not able to stir. - -Our men were beaten back after this from the place where they stood; -and so I was left in possession of the enemy, but was not their -prisoner--that is to say, was not found till next morning, when a -party being sent, as usual, with surgeons to look after the wounded -men among the dead, found me almost smothered with the dead Germans -and others that lay near me. However, to do them justice, they used me -with humanity, and the surgeons set my arm very skilfully and well; -and four or five days after, I had liberty to go to Parma upon parole. - -Both the armies continued fighting, especially on our left, till it -was so dark that it was impossible to know who they fired at, or for -the generals to see what they did; so they abated firing gradually, -and, as it may be truly said, the night parted them. - -Both sides claimed the victory, and both concealed their losses as -much as it was possible; but it is certain that never battle was -fought with greater bravery and obstinacy than this was; and had there -been daylight to have fought it out, doubtless there would have been -many thousand more men killed on both sides. - -All the Germans had to entitle them to the victory was, that they made -our left retire, as I have said, to the canal, and to the high banks -or mounds on the edge of the Po; but they had so much advantage in the -retreat--they fired from thence among the thickest of the enemy, and -could never be forced from their posts. - -The best testimony the royal army had of the victory, and which was -certainly the better of the two, was, that, two days after the fight, -they attacked Guastalia, as it were in view of the German army, and -forced the garrison to surrender, and to swear not to serve again for -six months, which, they being fifteen hundred men, was a great loss to -the Germans; and yet Prince Eugene did not offer to relieve it. And -after that we took several other posts which the imperialists had -possession of, but were obliged to quit them upon the approach of the -French army, not being in a condition to fight another battle that -year. - -My campaign was now at an end, and though I came lame off, I came off -much better than abundance of gentlemen; for in that bloody battle we -had above four hundred officers killed or wounded, whereof three were -general officers. - -The campaign held on till December, and the Duke de Vendme took Borgo -Fort and several other places from the Germans, who, in short, lost -ground every day in Italy. I was a prisoner a great while, and there -being no cartel settled, Prince Eugene ordered the French prisoners to -be sent into Hungary, which was a cruelty that could not be reasonably -exercised on them. However, a great many, by that banishment, found -means to make their escape to the Turks, by whom they were kindly -received, and the French ambassador at Constantinople took care of -them, and shipped them back again into Italy at the king's charge. - -But the Duke de Vendme now took so many German prisoners that Prince -Eugene was tired of sending his prisoners to Hungary, and was obliged -to be at the charge of bringing some of them back again whom he had -sent thither, and come to agree to a general exchange of prisoners. - -I was, as I have said, allowed for a time to go to Parma upon my -parole, where I continued for the recovery of my wound and broken arm -forty days, and was then obliged to render myself to the commanding -officer at Ferrara, where Prince Eugene coming soon after, I was, with -several other prisoners of war, sent away into the Milanese, to be -kept for an exchange of prisoners. - -It was in the city of Trent that I continued about eight months. The -man in whose house I quartered was exceedingly civil to me, and took a -great deal of care of me, and I lived very easy. Here I contracted a -kind of familiarity, perfectly undesigned by me, with the daughter of -the burgher at whose house I had lodged, and, I know not by what -fatality that was upon me, I was prevailed with afterwards to marry -her. This was a piece of honesty on my side which I must acknowledge I -never intended to be guilty of; but the girl was too cunning for me, -for she found means to get some wine into my head more than I used to -drink, and though I was not so disordered with it but that I knew very -well what I did, yet in an unusual height of good humour I consented -to be married. This impolitic piece of honesty put me to many -inconveniences, for I knew not what to do with this clog which I had -loaded myself with. I could neither stay with her or take her with me, -so that I was exceedingly perplexed. - -The time came soon after that I was released by the cartel, and so was -obliged to go to my regiment, which then was in quarters in the -Milanese, and from thence I got leave to go to Paris, upon my promise -to raise some recruits in England for the Irish regiments, by the help -of my correspondence there. Having thus leave to go to Paris, I took a -passport from the enemy's army to go to Trent, and making a long -circuit, I went back thither, and very honestly packed up my baggage, -wife and all, and brought her away through Tyrol into Bavaria, and so -through Suabia and the Black Forest into Alsatia; from thence I came -into Lorraine, and so to Paris. - -I had now a secret design to quit the war, for I really had had enough -of fighting. But it was counted so dishonourable a thing to quit while -the army was in the field that I could not dispense with it; but an -intervening accident made that part easy to me. The war was now -renewed between France and England and Holland, just as it was before; -and the French king, meditating nothing more than how to give the -English a diversion, fitted out a strong squadron of men-of-war and -frigates at Dunkirk, on board of which he embarked a body of troops of -about six thousand five hundred men, besides volunteers; and the new -king, as we called him, though more generally he was called the -Chevalier de St. George, was shipped along with them, and all for -Scotland. - -I pretended a great deal of zeal for this service, and that if I might -be permitted to sell my company in the Irish regiment I was in, and -have the chevalier's brevet for a colonel, in case of raising troops -for him in Great Britain after his arrival, I would embark volunteer -and serve at my own expense. The latter gave me a great advantage with -the chevalier; for now I was esteemed as a man of consideration, and -one that must have a considerable interest in my own country. So I -obtained leave to sell my company, and having had a good round sum of -money remitted me from London, by the way of Holland, I prepared a -very handsome equipage, and away I went to Dunkirk to embark. - -I was very well received by the chevalier; and as he had an account -that I was an officer in the Irish brigade, and had served in Italy, -and consequently was an old soldier, all this added to the character -which I had before, and made me have a great deal of honour paid me, -though at the same time I had no particular attachment to his person -or to his cause. Nor indeed did I much consider the cause of one side -or other. If I had, I should hardly have risked, not my life only, but -effects too, which were all, as I might say, from that moment -forfeited to the English government, and were too evidently in their -power to confiscate at their pleasure. - -However, having just received a remittance from London of 300 -sterling, and sold my company in the Irish regiment for very near as -much, I was not only insensibly drawn in, but was perfectly volunteer -in that dull cause, and away I went with them at all hazards. It -belongs very little to my history to give an account of that fruitless -expedition, only to tell you that, being so closely and effectually -chased by the English fleet, which was superior in force to the -French, I may say that, in escaping them, I escaped being hanged. - -It was the good fortune of the French that they overshot the port they -aimed at, and intending for the Frith of Forth, or, as it is called, -the Frith of Edinburgh, the first land they made was as far north as a -place called Montrose, where it was not their business to land, and so -they were obliged to come back to the frith, and were gotten to the -entrance of it, and came to an anchor for the tide. But this delay or -hindrance gave time to the English, under Sir George Byng, to come to -the frith, and they came to an anchor, just as we did, only waiting to -go up the frith with the flood. - -Had we not overshot the port, as above, all our squadron had been -destroyed in two days, and all we could have done had been to have -gotten into the pier or haven at Leith with the smaller frigates, and -have landed the troops and ammunition; but we must have set fire to -the men-of-war, for the English squadron was not above twenty-four -hours behind us, or thereabout. - -Upon this surprise, the French admiral set sail from the north point -of the frith where we lay, and crowding away to the north, got the -start of the English fleet, and made their escape, with the loss of -one ship only, which, being behind the rest, could not get away. - -When we were satisfied the English left chasing us, which was not till -the third night, when we altered our course and lost sight of them, we -stood over to the coast of Norway, and keeping that shore on board all -the way to the mouth of the Baltic, we came to an anchor again, and -sent two scouts abroad to learn news, to see if the sea was clear; and -being satisfied that the enemy did not chase us, we kept on with an -easier sail, and came all back again 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 run in my head, concluding that, if I had been -taken, I should certainly have been hanged. - -But the care was now over. I took my leave of the chevalier, and of -the army, and made haste to Paris. I came so unexpectedly to Paris, -and to my own lodgings, that it was my misfortune to make a discovery -relating to my wife which was not at all to my satisfaction; for I -found her ladyship had kept some company that I had reason to believe -were not such as an honest woman ought to have conversed with, and as -I knew her temper by what I had found of her myself, I grew very -jealous and uneasy about her. I must own it touched me very nearly, -for I began to have an extraordinary value for her, and her behaviour -was very taking, especially after I had brought her into France; but -having a vein of levity, it was impossible to prevent her running into -such things in a town so full of what they call gallantry as Paris. - -It vexed me also to think that it should be my fate to be a cuckold -both abroad and at home, and sometimes I would be in such a rage about -it that I had no government of myself when I thought of it. Whole -days, and I may say sometimes whole nights, I spent musing and -considering what I should do to her, and especially what I should do -to the villain, whoever he was, that had thus abused and supplanted -me. Here indeed I committed murder more than once, or indeed than a -hundred times, in my imagination; and, as the devil is certainly an -apparent prompter to wickedness, if he is not the first mover of it in -our minds, he teased me night and day with proposals to kill my wife. - -This horrid project he carried up so high, by raising fierce thoughts -and fomenting the blood upon my contemplation of the word cuckold, -that, in short, I left debating whether I should murder her or no, as -a thing out of the question, and determined; and my thoughts were then -taken up only with the management how I should kill her, and how to -make my escape after I had done it. - -All this while I had no sufficient evidence of her guilt, neither had -I so much as charged her with it or let her know I suspected her, -otherwise than as she might perceive it in my conduct, and in the -change of my behaviour to her, which was such that she could not but -perceive that something troubled me. Yet she took no notice of it to -me, but received me very well, and showed herself to be glad of my -return. Nor did I find she had been extravagant in her expenses while -I was abroad. But jealousy, as the wise man says, is the wrath of a -man; her being so good a hussy at what money I had left her gave my -distempered fancy an opinion that she had been maintained by other -people, and so had had no occasion to spend. - -I must confess she had a difficult point here upon her, though she had -been really honest; for, as my head was prepossessed of her -dishonesty, if she had been lavish I should have said she had spent it -upon her gentlemen; and as she had been frugal, I said she had been -maintained by them. Thus, I say, my head was distempered; I believed -myself abused, and nothing could put it out of my thoughts night or -day. - -All this while it was not visibly broken out between us; but I was so -fully possessed with the belief of it that I seemed to want no -evidence, and I looked with an evil eye upon everybody that came near -her or that she conversed with. There was an officer of the Guards du -Corps that lodged in the same house with us, a very honest gentleman -and a man of quality. I happened to be in a little drawing-room -adjoining to a parlour where my wife sat at that time, and this -gentleman came into the parlour, which, as he was one of the family, -he might have done without offence; but he, not knowing that I was in -the drawing-room, sat down and talked with my wife. I heard every word -they said, for the door between us was open; nor could I say that -there passed anything between them but cursory discourse. They talked -of casual things, of a young lady, a burgher's daughter of nineteen, -that had been married the week before to an advocate in the Parliament -of Paris, vastly rich, and about sixty-three; and of another, a widow -lady of fortune in Paris, that had married her deceased husband's -_valet de chamber_; and of such casual matters, that I could find no -fault with her now at all. - -But it filled my head with jealous thoughts and fired my temper. Now I -fancied he used too much freedom with her, then that she used too much -freedom to him, and once or twice I was upon the point of breaking in -upon them and affronting them both, but I restrained myself. At length -he talked some thing merrily of the lady throwing away her maiden -head, as I understood it, upon an old man; but still it was nothing -indecent. But I, who was all on fire already, could bear it no longer, -but started up and came into the room, and catching at my wife's -words, "Say you so, madam?" said I. "Was he too old for her?" and -giving the officer a look that I fancy was something akin to the face -on the sign called the Bull and Mouth, within Aldersgate, I went out -into the street. - -The marquis--so he was styled--a man of honour and of spirit too, took -it as I meant it, and followed me in a moment and "hemmed" after me in -the street; upon which I stopped, and he came up to me. "Sir," said -he, "our circumstances are very unhappy in France, that we cannot do -ourselves justice here without the most severe treatment in the world. -But, come on it what will, you must explain yourself to me on the -subject of your behaviour just now." - -I was a little cooled as to the point of my conduct to him in the very -few moments that had passed, and was very sensible that I was wrong to -him; and I said, therefore, to him, very frankly, "Sir, you are a -gentleman whom I know very well, and I have a very great respect for -you; but I had been disturbed a little about the conduct of my wife, -and were it your own case, what would you have done less?" - -"I am sorry for any dislike between you and your wife," says he; "but -what is that to me? Can you charge me with any indecency to her, -except my talking so and so?" (at which he repeated the words); "and -as I knew you were in the next room and heard every word, and that all -the doors were open, I thought no man could have taken amiss so -innocent an expression." - -"I could no otherwise take it amiss," said I, "than as I thought it -implied a farther familiarity, and that you cannot expect should be -borne by any man of honour. However, sir," said I, "I spoke only to my -wife. I said nothing to you, but gave you my hat as I passed you." - -"Yes," said he, "and a look as full of rage as the devil. Are there no -words in such looks?" - -"I can say nothing to that," said I, "for I cannot see my own -countenance; but my rage, as you call it, was at my wife, not at you." - -"But hark you, sir," said he, growing warm as I grew calm, "your anger -at your wife was for her discourse with me, and I think that concerns -me too, and I ought to resent it." - -"I think not, sir," said I; "nor, had I found you in bed with my wife, -would I have quarrelled with you; for if my wife will let you lie with -her, it is she is the offender. What have I to do with you? You could -not lie with her if she was not willing; and if she is willing to be a -whore, I ought to punish her; but I should have no quarrel with you. I -will lie with your wife if I can, and then I am even with you." - -I spoke this all in good humour and in order to pacify him, but it -would not do; but he would have me give him satisfaction, as he called -it. I told him I was a stranger in the country, and perhaps should -find little mercy in their course of justice; that it was not my -business to fight any man in his vindicating his keeping company with -my wife, for that the injury was mine, in having a bad woman to deal -with; that there was no reason in the thing, that after any man should -have found the way into my bed, I, who am injured, should go and stake -my life upon an equal hazard against the man who has abused me. - -Nothing would prevail with this person to be quiet for all this; but I -had affronted him, and no satisfaction could be made him but that at -the point of the sword; so we agreed to go away together to Lisle, in -Flanders. I was now soldier enough not to be afraid to look a man in -the face, and as the rage at my wife inspired me with courage, so he -let fall a word that fired and provoked me beyond all patience; for, -speaking of the distrust I had of my wife, he said, unless I had good -information I ought not to suspect my wife. I told him, if I had good -information, I should be past suspicion. He replied, if he was the -happy man, that had so much of her favour, he would take care then to -put me past the suspicion. I gave him as rough an answer as he could -desire, and he returned in French, _"Nous verrons Lisle_;" that is -to say, "We will talk further of it at Lisle." - -I told him I did not see the benefit either to him or me of going so -far as Lisle to decide this quarrel, since now I perceived he was the -man I wanted; that we might decide this quarrel _au champ_, upon the -spot, and whoever had the fortune to fall the other might make his -escape to Lisle as well afterwards as before. - -Thus we walked on talking very ill-naturedly on both sides, and yet -very mannerly, till we came clear of the suburbs of Paris, on the way -to Charenton; when, seeing the way clear, I told him under those trees -was a very fit place for us, pointing to a row of trees adjoining to -Monsieur ----'s garden-wall. So we went thither, and fell to work -immediately. After some fencing he made a home-thrust at me, and run -me into my arm, a long slanting wound, but at the same time received -my point into his body, and soon after fell. He spoke some words -before he dropped; first he told me I had killed him; then he said he -had indeed wronged me, and as he knew it, he ought not to have fought -me. He desired I would make my escape immediately, which I did into -the city, but no farther, nobody, as I thought, having seen us -together. In the afternoon, about six hours after the action, -messengers brought news, one on the heels of another, that the marquis -was mortally wounded, and carried into a house at Charenton. That -account, saying he was not dead, surprised me a little, not doubting -but that, concluding I had made my escape, he would own who it was. -However, I discovered nothing of my concern, but, going up into my -chamber, I took out of a cabinet there what money I had, which indeed -was so much as I thought would be sufficient for my expenses. But -having an accepted bill for two thousand livres, I walked sedately to -a merchant who knew me, and got fifty pistoles of him upon my bill, -letting him know my business called me to England, and I would take -the rest of him when he had received it. - -Having furnished myself thus, I provided me a horse for my servant, -for I had one very good one of my own, and once more ventured home to -my lodging, where I heard again that the marquis was not dead. My wife -all this while covered her concern for the marquis so well that she -gave me no room to make any remark upon her; but she saw evidently the -marks of rage and deep resentment in my behaviour after some little -stay, and perceiving me making preparation for a journey, she said to -me, "Are you going out of town?" "Yes, madam," says I, "that you may -have room to mourn for your friend the marquis;" at which she started, -and showed she was indeed in a most terrible fright, and making a -thousand crosses about herself, with a great many callings upon the -Blessed Virgin and her country saints, she burst out at last, "Is it -possible? Are you the man that has killed the marquis? Then you are -undone, and I too." - -"You may, madam, be a loser by the marquis being killed; but I'll take -care to be as little a loser by you as I can. 'Tis enough; the marquis -has honestly confessed your guilt, and I have done with you." She -would have thrown herself into my arms, protesting her innocence, and -told me she would fly with me, and would convince me of her fidelity -by such testimonies as I could not but be satisfied with, but I thrust -her violently from me. "_Allez, infame!_" said I. "Go, infamous -creature, and take from me the necessity I should be under, if I -stayed, of sending you to keep company with your dear friend the -marquis." I thrust her away with such force that she fell backward -upon the floor, and cried out most terribly, and indeed she had -reason, for she was very much hurt. - -It grieved me indeed to have thrust her away with such force, but you -must consider me now in the circumstances of a man enraged, and, as it -were, out of himself, furious and mad. However, I took her up from the -floor and laid her on the bed, and calling up her maid, bid her go and -take care of her mistress; and, going soon after out of doors, I took -horse and made the best of my way, not towards Calais or Dunkirk, or -towards Flanders, whither it might be suggested I was fled, and -whither they did pursue me the same evening, but I took the direct -road for Lorraine, and riding all night and very hard, I passed the -Maine the next day at night, at Chalons, and came safe into the Duke -of Lorraine's dominions the third day, where I rested one day only to -consider what course to take; for it was still a most difficult thing -to pass any way, but that I should either be in the king of France's -dominions or be taken by the French allies as a subject of France. But -getting good advice from a priest at Bar le Duc, who, though I did not -tell him the particulars of my case, yet guessed how it was, it being, -as he said, very usual for gentlemen in my circumstances to fly that -way;--upon this supposition, this kind _padre_ got me a church pass; -that is to say, he made me a purveyor for the abbey of ----, and, as -such, got me a passport to go to Deux Ponts, which belonged to the -king of Sweden. Having such authority there, and the priest's -recommendation to an ecclesiastic in the place, I got passports from -thence in the king of Sweden's name to Cologne, and then I was -thoroughly safe. So, making my way to the Netherlands without any -difficulty, I came to the Hague, and from thence, though very -privately and by several names, I came to England. And thus I got -clear of my Italian wife--whore I should have called her; for, after I -had made her so myself, how should I expect any other of her? - -Being arrived at London, I wrote to my friend at Paris, but dated my -letters from the Hague, where I ordered him to direct his answers. The -chief business of my writing was to know if my bill was paid him, to -inquire if any pursuit was made after me, and what other news he had -about me or my wife, and particularly how it had fared with the -marquis. - -I received an answer in a few days, importing that he had received the -money on my bill, which he was ready to pay as I should direct; that -the marquis was not dead; "but," said he, "you have killed him another -way, for he has lost his commission in the Guards, which was worth to -him twenty thousand livres, and he is yet a close prisoner in the -Bastile;" that pursuit was ordered after me upon suspicion; that they -had followed me to Amiens, on the road to Dunkirk, and to Chastean de -Cambresis, on the way to Flanders, but missing me that way, had given -it over; that the marquis had been too well instructed to own that he -had fought with me, but said that he was assaulted on the road, and -unless I could be taken, he would take his trial and come off for want -of proof; that my flying was a circumstance indeed that moved strongly -against him, because it was known that we had had some words that day, -and were seen to walk together, but that, nothing being proved on -either side, he would come off with the loss of his commission, which, -however, being very rich, he could bear well enough. - -As to my wife, he wrote me word she was inconsolable, and had cried -herself to death almost; but he added (very ill-natured indeed), -whether it was for me or for the marquis, that he could not determine. -He likewise told me she was in very bad circumstances and very low, so -that, if I did not take some care of her, she would come to be in very -great distress. - -The latter part of this story moved me indeed, for I thought, however -it was, I ought not to let her starve; and, besides, poverty was a -temptation which a woman could not easily withstand, and I ought not -to be the instrument to drive her to a horrid necessity of crime, if I -could prevent it. - -Upon this I wrote to him again to go to her, and talk with her, and -learn as much as he could of her particular circumstances; and that, -if he found she was really in want, and, particularly, that she did -not live a scandalous life, he should give her twenty pistoles, and -tell her, if she would engage to live retired and honestly, she should -have so much annually, which was enough to subsist her. - -She took the first twenty pistoles, but bade him tell me that I had -wronged her and unjustly charged her, and I ought to do her justice; -and I had ruined her by exposing her in such a manner as I had, having -no proof of my charge or ground for any suspicion; that, as to twenty -pistoles a year, it was a mean allowance to a wife that had travelled -over the world, as she had done with me, and the like; and so -expostulated with him to obtain forty pistoles a year of me, which I -consented to. But she never gave me the trouble of paying above one -year; for after that the marquis was so fond of her again that he took -her away to himself, and, as my friend wrote me word, had settled four -hundred crowns a year on her, and I never heard any more of her. - -I was now in London, but was obliged to be very retired and change my -name, letting nobody in the nation know who I was, except my merchant -by whom I corresponded with my people in Virginia; and particularly -with my tutor, who was now become the head manager of my affairs, and -was in very good circumstances himself also by my means. But he -deserved all I did or could do for him, for he was a most faithful -friend as well as servant, as ever man had, in that country at least. - -I was not the easiest man alive, in the retired, solitary manner I now -lived in; and I experienced the truth of the text, that "it is not -good for man to be alone," for I was extremely melancholy and heavy, -and indeed knew not what to do with myself, particularly because I was -under some restraint, that I was too afraid to go abroad. At last I -resolved to go quite away, and go to Virginia again, and there live -retired as I could. - -But when I came to consider that part more narrowly, I could not -prevail with myself to live a private life. I had got a wandering kind -of taste, and knowledge of things begat a desire of increasing it, and -an exceeding delight I had in it, though I had nothing to do in the -armies or in war, and did not design ever to meddle with it again. Yet -I could not live in the world and not inquire what was doing in it; -nor could I think of living in Virginia, where I was to hear my news -twice a year, and read the public accounts of what was just then upon -the stocks, as the history of things past. - -This was my notion: I was now in my native country, where my -circumstances were easy, and though I had ill-luck abroad, for I -brought little money home with me, yet, by a little good management, I -might soon have money by me. I had nobody to keep but myself, and my -plantations in Virginia generally returned me from 400 to 600 a -year, one year above 700, and to go thither, I concluded, was to be -buried alive; so I put off all thoughts of it, and resolved to settle -somewhere in England where I might know everybody and nobody know me. -I was not long in concluding where to pitch, for as I spoke the French -tongue perfectly well, having been so many years among them, it was -easy for me to pass for a Frenchman. So I went to Canterbury, called -myself an Englishman among the French, and a Frenchman among the -English; and on that score was the more perfectly concealed, going by -the name of Monsieur Charnot with the French, and was called Mr. -Charnock among the English. - -Here indeed I lived perfectly incog. I made no particular acquaintance -so as to be intimate, and yet I knew everybody, and everybody knew me. -I discoursed in common, talked French with the Walloons, and English -with the English; and lived retired and sober, and was well enough -received by all sorts; but as I meddled with nobody's business, so -nobody meddled with mine; I thought I lived pretty well. - -But I was not fully satisfied. A settled family life was the thing I -loved; had made two pushes at it, as you have heard, but with -ill-success; yet the miscarriage of what was past did not discourage -me at all, but I resolved to marry. I looked out for a woman as -suitable as I could, but always found some thing or other to shock my -fancy, except once a gentleman's daughter of good fashion; but I met -with so many repulses of one kind or another that I was forced to give -it over; and indeed, though I might be said to be a lover in this -suit, and had managed myself so well with the young lady that I had no -difficulty left but what would soon have been adjusted, yet her father -was so difficult, made so many objections, was to-day not pleased one -way, to-morrow another, that he would stand by nothing that he himself -had proposed, nor could he be ever brought to be of the same mind two -days together; so that we at last put an end to the pretensions, for -she would not marry without her father's consent, and I would not -steal her, and so that affair ended. - -I cannot say but I was a little vexed at the dis appointment of -this, so I left the city of Canterbury and went to London in the -stage-coach. Here I had an odd scene presented as ever happened of its -kind. - -There was in the stage-coach a young woman and her maid. She was -sitting in a very melancholy posture, for she was in the coach before -me, and sighed most dreadfully all the way, and whenever her maid -spoke to her she burst out into tears. I was not long in the coach -with her but, seeing she made such a dismal figure, I offered to -comfort her a little, and inquired into the occasion of her -affliction. But she would not speak a word; but her maid, with a force -of crying too, said her master was dead, at which word the lady burst -out again into a passion of crying, and between mistress and maid this -was all I could get for the morning part of that day. When we came to -dine, I offered the lady, that seeing, I supposed, she would not dine -with the company, if she would please to dine with me, I would dine in -a separate room; for the rest of the company were foreigners. Her maid -thanked me in her mistresses name, but her mistress could eat nothing, -and desired to be private. - -Here, however, I had some discourse with the maid, from whom I learned -that the lady was wife to a captain of a ship, who was outward bound -to somewhere in the Straits--I think it was to Zante and Venice; that, -being gone no farther than the Downs, he was taken sick, and after -about ten days' illness had died at Deal; that his wife, hearing of -his sickness, had gone to Deal to see him, and had come but just time -enough to see him die; had stayed there to bury him, and was now -coming to London in a sad, disconsolate condition indeed. - -I heartily pitied the young gentlewoman indeed, and said some things -to her in the coach to let her know I did so, which she gave no answer -to, but in civility now and then made a bow, but never gave me the -least opportunity to see her face, or so much as to know whether she -had a face or no, much less to guess what form of a face it was. It -was winter time, and the coach put up at Rochester, not going through -in a day, as was usual in summer; and a little before we came to -Rochester I told the lady I understood she had ate nothing to-day, -that such a course would but make her sick, and, doing her harm, could -do her deceased husband no good; and therefore I entreated her that, -as I was a stranger, and only offered a civility to her in order to -abate her severely afflicting herself, she would yield so far to -matters of ceremony as let us sup together as passengers; for, as to -the strangers, they did not seem to understand the custom or to desire -it. - -She bowed, but gave no answer; only, after pressing her by arguments, -which she could not deny was very civil and kind, she returned, she -gave me thanks, but she could not eat. "Well, madam," said I, "do but -sit down; though you think you cannot eat, perhaps you may eat a bit. -Indeed you must eat, or you will destroy yourself at this rate of -living, and upon the road too; in a word, you will be sick indeed." I -argued with her. The maid put in, and said, "Do, madam; pray try to -divert yourself a little." I pressed her again, and she bowed to me -very respectfully, but still said, "No," and she could not eat. The -maid continued to importune her, and said, "Dear madam, do. The -gentleman is a civil gentleman; pray, madam, do;" and then, turning to -me, said, "My mistress will, sir, I hope," and seemed pleased, and -indeed was so. - -However, I went on to persuade her; and, taking no notice of what her -maid said, that I was a civil gentleman, I told her, "I am a stranger -to you, madam; but if I thought you were shy of me on any account, as -to civility, I will send my supper up to you in your own chamber, and -stay below myself." She bowed then to me twice, and looked up, which -was the first time, and said she had no suspicion of that kind; that -my offer was so civil that she was as much ashamed to refuse it as she -should be ashamed to accept it, if she was where she was known; that -she thought I was not quite a stranger to her, for she had seen me -before; that she would accept my offer so far as to sit at table, -because I desired it; but she could not promise me to eat, and that -she hoped I would take the other as a constraint upon her, in return -to so much kindness. - -She startled me when she said she had seen me before; for I had not -the least knowledge of her, nor did I remember so much as to have -heard of her name; for I had asked her name of her maid; and indeed it -made me almost repent my compliment, for it was many ways essential to -me not to be known. However, I could not go back; and, besides, if I -was known, it was essentially necessary to me to know who it was that -knew me, and by what circumstances; so I went on with my compliment. - -We came to the inn but just before it was dark. I offered to hand my -widow out of the coach, and she could not decline it; but though her -hoods were not then much over her face, yet, being dark, I could see -little of her then. I waited on her then into the stairfoot, and led -her up the inn-stairs to a dining-room which the master of the house -offered to show us, as if for the whole company; but she declined -going in there, and said she desired rather to go directly to her -chamber, and turning to her maid, bade her speak to the innkeeper to -show her to her lodging-room. So I waited on her to the door, and took -my leave, telling her I would expect her at supper. - -In order to treat her moderately well, and not extravagantly, for I -had no thoughts of anything farther than civility, which was the -effect of mere compassion for the unhappiness of the most truly -disconsolate woman that I ever met with; I say, in order to treat her -handsomely, but not extravagantly, I provided what the house afforded, -which was a couple of partridges and a very good dish of stewed -oysters. They brought us up afterwards a neat's tongue and a ham that -was almost cut quite down, but we ate none of it; for the other was -fully enough for us both, and the maid made her supper off the oysters -we had left, which were enough. - -I mention this because it should appear I did not treat her as a -person I was making any court to, for I had nothing of that in my -thoughts; but merely in pity to the poor woman, who I saw in a -circumstance that was indeed very unhappy. - -When I gave her maid notice that supper was ready, she fetched her -mistress, coming in before her with a candle in her hand, and then it -was that I saw her face, and being in her dishabille, she had no hood -over her eyes or black upon her head, when I was truly surprised to -see one of the most beautiful faces upon earth. I saluted her, and led -her to the fireside, the table, though spread, being too far from the -fire, the weather being cold. - -She was now something sociable, though very grave, and sighed often on -account of her circumstances. But she so handsomely governed her -grief, yet so artfully made it mingle itself with all her discourse, -that it added exceedingly to her behaviour, which was every way most -exquisitely genteel. I had a great deal of discourse with her, and -upon many subjects, and by degrees took her name, that is to say, from -herself, as I had done before from her maid; also the place where she -lived, viz., near Ratcliff, or rather Stepney, where I asked her leave -to pay her a visit when she thought fit to admit company, which she -seemed to intimate would not be a great while. - -It is a subject too surfeiting to entertain people with the beauty of -a person they will never see. Let it suffice to tell them she was the -most beautiful creature of her sex that I ever saw before or since; -and it cannot be wondered if I was charmed with her the very first -moment I saw her face. Her behaviour was likewise a beauty in itself, -and was so extraordinary that I cannot say I can describe it. - -The next day she was much more free than she was the first night, and -I had so much conversation as to enter into particulars of things on -both sides; also she gave me leave to come and see her house, which, -however, I did not do under a fortnight or thereabouts, because I did -not know how far she would dispense with the ceremony which it was -necessary to keep up at the beginning of the mourning. - -However, I came as a man that had business with her, relating to the -ship her husband was dead out of, and the first time I came was -admitted; and, in short, the first time I came I made love to her. She -received that proposal with disdain. I cannot indeed say she treated -me with any disrespect, but she said she abhorred the offer, and would -hear no more of it. How I came to make such a proposal to her I scarce -knew then, though it was very much my intention from the first. - -In the meantime I inquired into her circumstances and her character, -and heard nothing but what was very agreeable of them both; and, above -all, I found she had the report of the best-humoured lady and the -best-bred of all that part of the town; and now I thought I had found -what I had so often wished for to make me happy and had twice -miscarried in, and resolved not to miss her, if it was possible to -obtain her. - -It came indeed a little into my thoughts that I was a married man, and -had a second wife alive, who, though she was false to me and a whore, -yet I was not legally divorced from her, and that she was my wife for -all that. But I soon got over that part; for, first, as she was a -whore, and the marquis had confessed it to me, I was divorced in law, -and I had a power to put her away. But having had the misfortune of -fighting a duel, and being obliged to quit the country, I could not -claim the legal process which was my right, and therefore might -conclude myself as much divorced as if it had been actually done, and -so that scruple vanished. - -I suffered now two months to run without pressing my widow any more, -only I kept a strict watch to find if any one else pretended to her. -At the end of two months I visited her again, when I found she -received me with more freedom, and we had no more sighs and sobs about -the last husband; and though she would not let me press my former -proposal so far as I thought I might have done, yet I found I had -leave to come again, and it was the article of decency which she stood -upon as much as anything; that I was not disagreeable to her, and that -my using her so handsomely upon the road had given me a great -advantage in her favour. - -I went on gradually with her, and gave her leave to stand off for two -months more. But then I told her the matter of decency, which was but -a ceremony, was not to stand in competition with the matter of -affection; and, in short, I could not bear any longer delay, but that, -if she thought fit, we might marry privately; and, to cut the story -short, as I did my courtship, in about five months I got her in the -mind, and we were privately married, and that with so very exact a -concealment that her maid, that was so instrumental in it, yet had no -knowledge of it for near a month more. - -I was now, not only in my imagination, but in reality, the most happy -creature in the world, as I was so infinitely satisfied with my wife, -who was indeed the best-humoured woman in the world, a most -accomplished, beautiful creature indeed, perfectly well-bred, and had -not one ill quality about her; and this happiness continued without -the least interruption for about six years. - -But I, that was to be the most unhappy fellow alive in the article of -matrimony, had at last a disappointment of the worst sort even here. I -had three fine children by her, and in her time of lying-in with the -last she got some cold, that she did not in a long time get off; and, -in short, she grew very sickly. In being so continually ill and out of -order, she very unhappily got a habit of drinking cordials and hot -liquors. Drink, like the devil, when it gets hold of any one, though -but a little, it goes on by little and little to their destruction. So -in my wife, her stomach being weak and faint, she first took this -cordial, then that, till, in short, she could not live without them, -and from a drop to a sup, from a sup to a dram, from a dram to a -glass, and so on to two, till at last she took, in short, to what we -call drinking. - -As I likened drink to the devil, in its gradual possession of the -habits and person, so it is yet more like the devil in its -encroachment on us, where it gets hold of our senses. In short, my -beautiful, good-humoured, modest, well-bred wife grew a beast, a slave -to strong liquor, and would be drunk at her own table--nay, in her own -closet by herself, till, instead of a well-made, fine shape, she was -as fat as a hostess; her fine face, bloated and blotched, had not so -much as the ruins of the most beautiful person alive--nothing remained -but a good eye; that indeed she held to the last. In short, she lost -her beauty, her shape, her manners, and at last her virtue; and, -giving herself up to drinking, killed herself in about a year and a -half after she first began that cursed trade, in which time she twice -was exposed in the most scandalous manner with a captain of a ship, -who, like a villain, took the advantage of her being in drink and not -knowing what she did. But it had this unhappy effect, that instead of -her being ashamed and repenting of it when she came to herself, it -hardened her in the crime, and she grew as void of modesty at last as -of sobriety. - -Oh, the power of intemperance! and how it encroaches on the best -dispositions in the world; how it comes upon us gradually and -insensibly; and what dismal effects it works upon our morals, changing -the most virtuous, regular, well-instructed, and well-inclined tempers -into worse than brutal! That was a good story, whether real or -invented, of the devil tempting a young man to murder his father. No, -he said; that was unnatural. "Why, then," says the devil, "go and lie -with your mother." "No," says he; "that is abominable." "Well, then," -says the devil, "if you will do nothing else to oblige me, go and get -drunk." "Ay, ay," says the fellow, "I will do that." So he went and -made himself drunk as a swine, and when he was drunk, he murdered his -father and lay with his mother. - -Never was a woman more virtuous, modest, chaste, sober; she never so -much as desired to drink any thing strong; it was with the greatest -entreaty that I could prevail with her to drink a glass or two of -wine, and rarely, if ever, above one or two at a time; even in company -she had no inclination to it. Not an immodest word ever came out of -her mouth, nor would she suffer it in any one else in her hearing -without resentment and abhorrence. But upon that weakness and illness -after her last lying-in, as above, the nurse pressed her, whenever she -found herself faint and a sinking of her spirits, to take this cordial -and that dram, to keep up her spirits, till it became necessary even -to keep her alive, and gradually increased to a habit, so that it was -no longer her physic but her food. Her appetite sunk and went quite -away, and she ate little or nothing, but came at last to such a -dreadful height that, as I have said, she would be drunk in her own -dressing-room by eleven o'clock in the morning, and, in short, at last -was never sober. - -In this life of hellish excess, as I have said, she lost all that was -before so valuable in her, and a villain, if it be proper to call a -man who was really a gentleman by such a name, who was an intimate -acquaintance, coming to pretend a visit to her, made her and her maid -so drunk together that he lay with them both; with the mistress, the -maid being in the room, and with the maid, the mistress being in the -room; after which he, it seems, took the like liberty with them both -as often as he thought fit, till the wench, being with child, -discovered it for herself, and for her mistress too. Let any one judge -what was my case now. I, that for six years thought myself the -happiest man alive, was now the most miserable, distracted creature. -As to my wife, I loved her so well, and was so sensible of the -disaster of her drinking being the occasion of it all, that I could -not resent it to such a degree as I had done in her predecessor; but I -pitied her heartily. However, I put away all her servants, and almost -locked her up; that is to say, I set new people over her, who would -not suffer any one to come near her without my knowledge. - -But what to do with the villain that had thus abused both her and me, -that was the question that remained. To fight him upon equal terms, I -thought, was a little hard; that after a man had treated me as he had -done, he deserved no fair play for his life. So I resolved to wait for -him in Stepney fields, and which way he often came home pretty late, -and pistol him in the dark, and, if possible, to let him know what I -killed him for before I did it. But when I came to consider of this, -it shocked my temper too as well as principle, and I could not be a -murderer, whatever else I could be, or whatever I was provoked to be. - -However, I resolved, on the other hand, that I would severely correct -him for what he had done, and it was not long before I had an -opportunity; for, hearing one morning that he was walking across the -fields from Stepney to Shadwell, which way I knew he often went, I -waited for his coming home again, and fairly met him. - -I had not many words with him, but told him I had long looked for him; -that he knew the villainy he had been guilty of in my family, and he -could not believe, since he knew also that I was fully informed of it, -but that I must be a great coward, as well as a cuckold, or that I -would resent it, and that it was now a very proper time to call him to -an account for it; and therefore bade him, if he durst show his face -to what he had done, and defend the name of a captain of a man-of-war, -as they said he had been, to draw. - -He seemed surprised at the thing, and began to parley, and would -lessen the crime of it; but I told him it was not a time to talk that -way, since he could not deny the fact; and to lessen the crime was to -lay it the more upon the woman, who, I was sure, if he had not first -debauched with wine, he could never have brought to the rest; and, -seeing he refused to draw, I knocked him down with my cane at one -blow, and I would not strike him again while he lay on the ground, but -waited to see him recover a little; for I saw plainly he was not -killed. In a few minutes he came to himself again, and then I took him -fast by one wrist, and caned him as severely as I was able, and as -long as I could hold it for want of breath, but forbore his head, -because I was resolved he should feel it. In this condition at last he -begged for mercy, but I was deaf to all pity a great while, till he -roared out like a boy soundly whipped. Then I took his sword from him -and broke it before his face, and left him on the ground, giving him -two or three kicks on the backside, and bade him go and take the law -of me if he thought fit. - -I had now as much satisfaction as indeed could be taken of a coward, -and had no more to say to him; but as I knew it would make a great -noise about the town, I immediately removed my family, and, that I -might be perfectly concealed, went into the north of England, and -lived in a little town called ----, not far from Lancaster, where I -lived retired, and was no more heard of for about two years. My wife, -though more confined than she used to be, and so kept up from the lewd -part which, I believe, in the intervals of her intemperance, she was -truly ashamed of and abhorred, yet retained the drinking part, which -becoming, as I have said, necessary for her subsistence, she soon -ruined her health, and in about a year and a half after my removal -into the north she died. - -Thus I was once more a free man, and, as one would think, should by -this time have been fully satisfied that matrimony was not appointed -to be a state of felicity to me. - -I should have mentioned that the villain of a captain who I had -drubbed, as above, pretended to make a great stir about my assaulting -him on the highway, and that I had fallen upon him with three -ruffians, with an intent to murder him; and this began to obtain -belief among the people in the neighbourhood. I sent him word of so -much of it as I had heard, and told him I hoped it did not come from -his own mouth; but if it did, I expected he would publicly disown it, -he himself declaring he knew it to be false, or else I should be -forced to act the same thing over again, till I had disciplined him -into better manners; and that he might be assured that if he continued -to pretend that I had anybody with me when I caned him, I would -publish the whole story in print, and, besides that, would cane him -again wherever I met him, and as often as I met him, till he thought -fit to defend himself with his sword like a gentleman. - -He gave me no answer to this letter; and the satisfaction I had for -that was, that I gave twenty or thirty copies of it about among the -neighbours, which made it as public as if I had printed it (that -is, as to his acquaintance and mine), and made him so hissed at -and hated that he was obliged to remove into some other part of the -town--whither I did not inquire. - -My wife being now dead, I knew not what course to take in the world, -and I grew so disconsolate and discouraged that I was next door to -being distempered, and sometimes, indeed, I thought myself a little -touched in my head. But it proved nothing but vapours and the vexation -of this affair, and in about a year's time, or thereabouts, it wore -off again. - -I had rambled up and down in a most discontented, unsettled posture -after this, I say, about a year, and then I considered I had three -innocent children, and I could take no care of them, and that I must -either go away and leave them to the wide world or settle here and get -somebody to look after them, and that better a mother-in-law than no -mother; for to live such a wandering life it would not do; so I -resolved I would marry as anything offered, though it was mean, and -the meaner the better. I concluded my next wife should be only taken -as an upper servant; that is to say, a nurse to my children and -housekeeper to myself; "and let her be whore or honest woman," said I, -"as she likes best; I am resolved I will not much concern myself about -that;" for I was now one desperate, that valued not how things went. - -In this careless, and indeed rash, foolish humour, I talked to myself -thus: "If I marry an honest woman, my children will be taken care of; -if she be a slut and abuses me, as I see everybody does, I will kidnap -her and send her to Virginia, to my plantations there, and there she -shall work hard enough and fare hard enough to keep her chaste, I'll -warrant her." - -I knew well enough at first that these were mad, hare-brained notions, -and I thought no more of being serious in them than I thought of being -a man in the moon; but I know not how it happened to me, I reasoned -and talked to myself in this wild manner so long that I brought myself -to be seriously desperate; that is, to resolve upon another marriage, -with all the suppositions of unhappiness that could be imagined to -fall out. - -And yet even this rash resolution of my senses did not come -presently to action; for I was half a year after this before I fixed -upon anything. At last, as he that seeks mischief shall certainly find -it, so it was with me. There happened to be a young, or rather a -middle-aged, woman in the next town, which was but a half-mile off, -who usually was at my house and among my children every day when the -weather was tolerable; and though she came but merely as a neighbour, -and to see us, yet she was always helpful in directing and ordering -things for them, and mighty handy about them, as well before my wife -died as after. - -Her father was one that I employed often to go to Liverpool, and -sometimes to Whitehaven, and do business for me; for having, as it -were, settled myself in the northern parts of England, I had ordered -part of my effects to be shipped, as occasion of shipping offered, to -either of those two towns, to which, the war continuing very sharp, it -was safer coming, as to privateers, than about through the Channel to -London. - -I took a mighty fancy at last that this girl would answer my end, -particularly that I saw she was mighty useful among the children; so, -on the other hand, the children loved her very well, and I resolved to -love her too, flattering myself mightily, that as I had married two -gentlewomen and one citizen, and they proved all three whores, I -should now find what I wanted in an innocent country wench. - -I took up a world of time in considering of this matter; indeed scarce -any of my matches were done without very mature consideration. The -second was the worst in that article, but in this I thought of it, I -believe, four months most seriously before I resolved, and that very -prudence spoiled the whole thing. However, at last being resolved, I -took Mrs. Margaret one day as she passed by my parlour-door, called -her in, and told her I wanted to speak with her. She came readily in, -but blushed mightily when I bade her sit down in a chair just by me. - -I used no great ceremony with her, but told her that I had observed -she had been mighty kind to my children, and was very tender to them, -and that they all loved her, and that, if she and I could agree about -it, I intended to make her their mother, if she was not engaged to -somebody else. The girl sat still and said never a word till I said -those words, "if she was not engaged to somebody else;" when she -seemed struck. However, I took no notice of it, other than this, "Look -ye, Moggy," said I (so they call them in the country), "if you have -promised yourself, you must tell me." For we all knew that a young -fellow, a good clergyman's wicked son, had hung about her a great -while, two or three years, and made love to her, but could never get -the girl in the mind, it seems, to have him. - -She knew I was not ignorant of it, and therefore, after her first -surprise was over, she told me Mr. ---- had, as I knew, often come -after her, but she had never promised him anything, and had for -several years refused him; her father always telling her that he was a -wicked fellow, and that he would be her ruin if she had him. - -"Well, Moggy, then," says I, "what dost say to me? Art thou free to -make me a wife?" She blushed and looked down upon the ground, and -would not speak a good while; but when I pressed her to tell me, she -looked up, and said she supposed I was but jesting with her. Well, I -got over that, and told her I was in very good earnest with her, and I -took her for a sober, honest, modest girl, and, as I said, one that my -children loved mighty well, and I was in earnest with her; if she -would give me her consent, I would give her my word that I would have -her, and we would be married to-morrow morning. She looked up again at -that, and smiled a little, and said no, that was too soon too to say -yes. She hoped I would give her some time to consider of it, and to -talk with her father about it. - -I told her she needed not much time to consider about it; but, -however, I would give her till to-morrow morning, which was a great -while. By this time I had kissed Moggy two or three times, and she -began to be freer with me; and when I pressed her to marry me the next -morning, she laughed, and told me it was not lucky to be married in -her old clothes. - -I stopped her mouth presently with that, and told her she should not -be married in her old clothes, for I would give her some new. "Ay, it -may be afterwards," says Moggy, and laughed again. "No, just now," -says I. "Come along with me, Moggy;" so I carried her upstairs into my -wife's room that was, and showed her a new morning-gown of my wife's, -that she had never worn above two or three times, and several other -fine things. "Look you there, Moggy," says I, "there is a wedding-gown -for you; give me your hand now that you will have me to-morrow -morning. And as to your father, you know he has gone to Liverpool on -my business, but I will answer for it he shall not be angry when he -comes home to call his master son-in-law; and I ask him no portion. -Therefore give me thy hand for it, Moggy," says I very merrily to her, -and kissed her again; and the girl gave me her hand, and very -pleasantly too, and I was mightily pleased with it, I assure you. - -There lived about three doors from us an ancient gentleman who passed -for a doctor of physic, but who was really a Romish priest in orders, -as there are many in that part of the country; and in the evening I -sent to speak with him. He knew that I understood his profession, and -that I had lived in popish countries, and, in a word, believed me a -Roman too, for I was such abroad. When he came to me I told him the -occasion for which I sent for him, and that it was to be to-morrow -morning. He readily told me, if I would come and see him in the -evening, and bring Moggy with me, he would marry us in his own study, -and that it was rather more private to do it in the evening than in -the morning. So I called Moggy again to me, and told her, since she -and I had agreed the matter for to-morrow, it was as well to be done -overnight, and told her what the doctor had said. - -Moggy blushed again, and said she must go home first, that she could -not be ready before to-morrow. "Look ye, Moggy," says I, "you are my -wife now, and you shall never go away from me a maid. I know what you -mean; you would go home to shift you. Come, Moggy," says I, "come -along with me again upstairs." So I carried her to a chest of linen, -where were several new shifts of my last wife's, which she had never -worn at all, and some that had been worn. - -"There is a clean smock for you, Moggy," says I, "and to-morrow you -shall have all the rest." When I had done this, "Now, Moggy," says I, -"go and dress you;" so I locked her in, and went downstairs. "Knock," -says I, "when you are dressed." - -After some time Moggy did not knock, but down she came into my room, -completely dressed, for there were several other things that I bade -her take, and the clothes fitted her as if they had been made for her. -It seems she slipped the lock back. - -"Well, Moggy," says I, "now you see you shan't be married in your old -clothes;" so I took her in my arms and kissed her; and well pleased I -was as ever I was in my life, or with anything I ever did in my life. -As soon as it was dark Moggy slipped away beforehand, as the doctor -and I had agreed, to the old gentleman's housekeeper, and I came in -about half-an-hour after; and there we were married in the doctor's -study--that is to say, in his oratory or chapel, a little room within -his study--and we stayed and supped with him afterwards. - -Then, after a short stay more, I went home first, because I would send -the children all to bed, and the other servants out of the way; and -Moggy came some time after, and so we lay together that night. The -next morning I let all the family know that Moggy was my wife, and my -three children were rejoiced at it to the last degree. And now I was a -married man a fourth time; and, in short, I was really more happy in -this plain country girl than with any of all the wives I had had. She -was not young, being about thirty-three, but she brought me a son the -first year. She was very pretty, well-shaped, and of a merry, cheerful -disposition, but not a beauty. She was an admirable family manager, -loved my former children, and used them not at all the worse for -having some of her own. In a word, she made me an excellent wife, but -lived with me but four years, and died of a hurt she got of a fall -while she was with child, and in her I had a very great loss indeed. - -And yet such was my fate in wives, that, after all the blushing and -backwardness of Mrs. Moggy at first, Mrs. Moggy had, it seems, made a -slip in her younger days, and was got with child ten years before, by -a gentleman of a great estate in that country, who promised her -marriage, and afterwards deserted her. But as that had happened long -before I came into the country, and the child was dead and forgotten, -the people were so good to her, and so kind to me, that, hearing I had -married her, nobody ever spoke of it; neither did I ever hear of it or -suspect it till after she was in her grave, and then it was of small -consequence to me one way or other; and she was a faithful, virtuous, -obliging wife to me. I had very severe affliction indeed while she -lived with me; for the smallpox, a frightful distemper in that -country, broke into my family, and carried off three of my children -and a maid-servant; so that I had only one of my former wife's, and -one by my Moggy, the first a son, the last a daughter. - -While these things were in agitation came on the invasion of the Scots -and the fight at Preston; and I have cause to bless the memory of my -Moggy; for I was all on fire on that side, and just going away with -horse and arms to join the Lord Derwentwater. But Moggy begged me off -(as I may call it), and hung about me so with her tears and -importunities that I sat still and looked on; for which I had reason -to be thankful. - -I was really a sorrowful father, and the loss of my children stuck -close to me; but the loss of my wife stuck closer to me than all the -rest. Nor was my grief lessened or my kindest thoughts abated in the -least by the account I heard of her former miscarriages, seeing they -were so long before I knew her, and were not discovered by me or to me -in her lifetime. - -All these things put together made me very comfortless. And now I -thought Heaven summoned me to retire to Virginia, the place, and, as I -may say, the only place, I had been blessed at, or had met with -anything that deserved the name of success in, and where, indeed, my -affairs being in good hands, the plantations were increased to such a -degree that some years my return here made up eight hundred pounds, -and one year almost a thousand. So I resolved to leave my native -country once more, and taking my son with me, and leaving Moggy's -daughter with her grandfather, I made him my principal agent, left him -considerable in his hands for the maintenance of the child, and left -my will in his hand, by which, if I died before I should otherwise -provide for her, I left her 2000 portion, to be paid by my son out of -the estate I had in Virginia, and the whole estate, if he died -unmarried. - -I embarked for Virginia in the year ----, at the town of Liverpool, -and had a tolerable voyage thither, only that we met with a pirate -ship, in the latitude of 48 degrees, who plundered us of every thing -they could come at that was for their turn; that is to say, -provisions, ammunition, small-arms, and money. But, to give the rogues -their due, though they were the most abandoned wretches that were ever -seen, they did not use us ill. And as to my loss, it was not -considerable; the cargo which I had on board was in goods, and was of -no use to them; nor could they come at those things without rummaging -the whole ship, which they did not think worth their while. - -I found all my affairs in very good order at Virginia, my plantations -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 ought to remember it, to the encouragement of all faithful servants, -that he gave me an account, which, I believe, was critically just, of -the whole affairs of the plantations, each by themselves, and balanced -in years, every year's produce being fully transmitted, charges -deducted, to my order at London. - -I was exceedingly satisfied, as I had good reason indeed, with his -management; and with his management, as much in its degree, of his own -I can safely say it. He had improved a very large plantation of his -own at the same time, which he began upon the foot of the country's -allowance of land and the encouragement he had from me. - -When he had given me all this pleasing, agreeable account, you will -not think it strange that I had a desire to see the plantations, and -to view all the servants, which, in both the works, were upwards of -three hundred; and as my tutor generally bought some every fleet that -came from England, 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 slavery, which to -gentlemen must be worse than death. - -I do not mention what I did or said relating to them here. I shall -speak at large of it when the rest of them came over, which more -nearly concerned me. - -But one circumstance occurred to me here that equally surprised me and -terrified me to the last degree. Looking over all the servants, as I -say above, and viewing the plantations narrowly and frequently, I came -one day by a place where some women were at work by themselves. I was -seriously reflecting on the misery of human life, when I saw some of -those poor wretches. Thought I, "They have perhaps lived gay and -pleasantly in the world, notwithstanding, through a variety of -distresses, they may have been brought to this; and if a body was to -hear the history of some of them now, it would perhaps be as moving -and as seasonable a sermon as any minister in the country could -preach." - -While I was musing thus and looking at the women, on a sudden I heard -a combustion among other of the women-servants, who were almost behind -me, in the same work, and help was called loudly for, one of the women -having swooned away. They said she would die immediately if something -was not done to relieve her. I had nothing about me but a little -bottle, which we always carried about us there with rum, to give any -servant a dram that merited that favour; so I turned my horse and went -up towards the place. But as the poor creature was lying flat on the -ground, and the rest of the women-servants about her, I did not see -her, but gave them the bottle, and they rubbed her temples with it, -and, with much ado, brought her to life, and gave her a little to -drink. But she could drink none of it, and was exceeding ill -afterwards, so that she was carried to the infirmary--so they call it -in the religious houses in Italy where the sick nuns and friars are -carried; but here, in Virginia, I think they should call it the -condemned hole, for it really was only a place just fit for people to -die in, not a place to be cured in. - -The sick woman refusing to drink, one of the women-servants brought me -the bottle again, and I bade them drink it among them, which had -almost set them together by the ears for the liquor, there being not -enough to give every one a sup. - -I went home to my house immediately, and reflecting on the miserable -provision was wont to be made for poor servants when they were sick, I -inquired of my manager if it was so still. He said he believed mine -was better than any in the country; but he confessed it was but sad -lodging. However, he said he would go and look after it immediately -and see how it was. - -He came to me again about an hour after, and told me the woman was -very ill, and frighted with her condition; that she seemed to be very -penitent for some things in her past life, which lay heavy upon her -mind, believing she should die; that she asked him if there was no -minister to comfort poor dying servants; and he told her that she knew -they had no minister nearer than such a place, but that, if she lived -till morning, he should be sent for. He told me, also, that he had -removed her into a room where their chief workman used to lodge; that -he had given her a pair of sheets, and everything he could that he -thought she wanted, and had appointed another woman-servant to tend -her and sit up with her. - -"Well," says I, "that's well; for I cannot bear to have poor creatures -lie and perish, by the mere hardship of the place they are in, when -they are sick and want help. Besides," said I, "some of those -unfortunate creatures they call convicts may be peopie that have been -tenderly brought up." "Really, sir," says he, "this poor creature, I -always said, had something of a gentlewoman in her. I could see it by -her behaviour, and I have heard the other women say that she lived -very great once, and that she had fifteen hundred pound to her -portion; and I dare say she has been a handsome woman in her time, and -she has a hand as fine as a lady's now, though it be tanned with the -weather. I dare say she was never brought up to labour as she does -here, and she says to the rest that it will kill her." - -"Truly," says I, "it may be so, and that may be the reason that she -faints under it;" and I added, "Is there nothing you can put her to -within doors that may not be so laborious and expose her to so much -heat and cold?" He told me yes, there was. He could set her to be the -housekeeper, for the woman that lately was such was out of her time, -and was married and turned planter. "Why, then, let her have it," said -I, "if she recovers; and in the meantime go," said I, "and tell her -so; perhaps the comfort of it may help to restore her." - -He did so, and with that, taking good care of her, and giving her good -warm diet, the woman recovered, and in a little time was abroad again; -for it was the mere weight of labour, and being exposed to hard -lodging and mean diet, to one so tenderly bred, that struck her and -she fainted at her work. - -When she was made housekeeper she was quite another body. She put all -the household into such excellent order, and managed their provisions -so well, that my tutor admired her conduct, and would be every now and -then speaking of her to me, that she was an excellent manager. "I'll -warrant," says he, "she has been bred a gentlewoman, and she has been -a fine woman in her time too." In a word, he said so many good things -of her that I had a mind to see her. So one day I took occasion to go -to the plantation-house, as they called it, and into a parlour always -reserved for the master of the plantation. There she had opportunity -to see me before I could see her, and as soon as she had seen me she -knew me; but indeed had I seen her an hundred times I should not have -known her. She was, it seems, in the greatest confusion and surprise -at seeing who I was that it was possible for any one to be; and when I -ordered my manager to bring her into the room, he found her crying, -and begged him to excuse her, that she was frighted, and should die -away if she came near me. - -I, not imagining anything but that the poor creature was afraid of me -(for masters in Virginia are terrible things), bade him tell her she -need to be under no concern at my calling for her; for it was not for -any hurt nor for any displeasure, but that I had some orders to give -her. So, having, as he thought, encouraged her, though her surprise -was of another kind, he brought her in. When she came in she held a -handkerchief in her hand, wiping her eyes, as if she had cried. "Mrs. -Housekeeper," said I, speaking cheerfully to her, "don't be concerned -at my sending for you; I have had a very good account of your -management, and I called for you to let you know I am very well -pleased with it; and if it falls in my way to do you any good, if your -circumstances will allow it, I may be willing enough to help you out -of your misery." - -She made low courtesies, but said nothing. However, she was so far -encouraged that she took her hand from her face, and I saw her face -fully; and I believe she did it desiring I should discover who she -was; but I really knew nothing of her, any more than if I had never -seen her in my life, but went on, as I thought, to encourage her, as I -used to do with any that I saw deserved it. - -In the meantime my tutor, who was in the room, went out on some -business or other--I know not what. As soon as he was gone she burst -out into a passion, and fell down on her knees just before me: "Oh, -sir!" says she, "I see you don't know me. Be merciful to me; I am your -miserable divorced wife!" - -I was astonished; I was frighted; I trembled like one in an ague; I -was speechless; in a word, I was ready to sink, and she fell flat on -her face, and lay there as if she had been dead. I was speechless, I -say, as a stone. I had only presence of mind enough to step to the -door and fasten it, that my tutor might not come in; then, going back -to her, I took her up and spoke comfortably to her, and told her I no -more knew her than if I had never seen her. - -"Oh, sir!" said she, "afflictions are dreadful things; such as I have -suffered have been enough to alter my countenance; but forgive," said -she, "for God's sake, the injuries I have done you. I have paid dear -for all my wickedness, and it is just, it is righteous, that God -should bring me to your foot, to ask your pardon for all my brutish -doings. Forgive me, sir," said she, "I beseech you, and let me be your -slave or servant for it as long as I live; it is all I ask;" and with -those words she fell upon her knees again and cried so vehemently that -it was impossible for her to stop it or to speak a word more. I took -her up again, made her sit down, desired her to compose herself, and -to hear what I was going to say; though indeed it touched me so -sensibly that I was hardly able to speak any more than she was. - -First, I told her it was such a surprise to me that I was not able to -say much to her; and indeed the tears run down my face almost as fast -as they did on hers. I told her that I should only tell her now, that, -as nobody had yet known anything that had passed, so it was absolutely -necessary not a word of it should be known; that it should not be the -worse for her that she was thus thrown in my hands again; but that I -could do nothing for her if it was known, and, therefore, that her -future good or ill fortune would depend upon her entire concealing it; -that, as my manager would come in again presently, she should go back -to her part of the house, and go on in the business as she did before; -that I would come to her and talk more at large with her in a day or -two. So she retired, after assuring me that not a word of it should go -out of her mouth; and indeed she was willing to retire before my tutor -came again, that he might not see the agony she was in. - -I was so perplexed about this surprising incident that I hardly knew -what I did or said all that night; nor was I come to any settled -resolution in the morning what course to take in it. However, in the -morning I called my tutor, and told him that I had been exceedingly -concerned about the poor distressed creature, the housekeeper; that I -had heard some of her story, which was very dismal; that she had been -in very good circumstances and was bred very well, and that I was glad -he had removed her out of the field into the house; but still she was -almost naked, and that I would have him go down to the warehouse and -give her some linen, especially head-clothes, and all sorts of small -things such as hoods, gloves, stockings, shoes, petticoats, &c., and -to let her choose for herself; also a morning-gown of calico, and a -mantua of a better kind of calico; that is to say, new clothe her; -which he did, but brought me word that he found her all in tears, and -that she had cried all night long, and, in short, he believed she -would indeed cry herself to death; that all the while she was -receiving the things he gave her she cried; that now and then she -would struggle with and stop it, but that then, upon another word -speaking, she would burst out again, so that it grieved everybody that -saw her. - -I was really affected with her case very much, but struggled hard with -myself to hide it, and turned the discourse to something else. In the -meantime, though I did not go to her the next day, nor till the third -day, yet I studied day and night how to act, and what I should do in -this remarkable case. - -When I came to the house, which was the third day, she came into the -room I was in, clothed all over with my things which I had ordered -her, and told me she thanked God she was now my servant again and wore -my livery, thanked me for the clothes I had sent her, and said it was -much more than she had deserved from me. - -I then entered into discourses with her, nobody being present but -ourselves; and first I told her she should name no more of the unkind -things that had passed, for she had humbled herself more than enough -on that subject, and I would never reproach her with anything that was -past. I found that she had been the deepest sufferer by far. I told -her it was impossible for me, in my present circumstances, to receive -her there as a wife who came over as a convict, neither did she know -so little as to desire it; but I told her I might be instrumental to -put an end to her misfortunes in the world, and especially to the -miserable part of it which was her present load, provided she could -effectually keep her own counsel and never let the particulars come -out of her mouth, and that from the day she did she might date her -irrevocable ruin. - -She was as sensible of the necessity of that part as I was, and told -me all she could claim of me would be only to deliver her from her -present calamity that she was not able to support; and that then, if I -pleased, she might live such a life as that she might apply the -residue of what time she should have wholly to repentance; that she -was willing to do the meanest offices in the world for me; and though -she should rejoice to hear that I would forgive her former life, yet -that she would not look any higher than to be my servant as long as -she lived; and, in the meantime, I might be satisfied she would never -let any creature so much as know that I had ever seen her before. - -I asked her if she was willing to let me into any part of the history -of her life since she and I parted; but I did not insist upon it -otherwise than as she thought convenient. She said, as her breach with -me began first in folly and ended in sin, so her whole life afterwards -was a continued series of calamity, sin and sorrow, sin and shame, and -at last misery; that she was deluded into gay company and to an -expensive way of living which betrayed her to several wicked courses -to support the expenses of it; that after a thousand distresses and -difficulties, being not able to maintain herself, she was reduced to -extreme poverty; that she would many times have humbled herself to me -in the lowest and most submissive manner in the world, being sincerely -penitent for her first crime, but that she could never hear of me, nor -which way I was gone; that she was by that means so abandoned that she -wanted bread, and those wants and distresses brought her into bad -company of another kind, and that she fell in among a gang of thieves, -with whom she herded for some time, and got money enough a great -while, but under the greatest dread and terror imaginable, being in -the constant fear of coming to shame; that afterwards what she feared -was come upon her, and for a very trifling attempt in which she was -not principal, but accidentally concerned, she was sent to this place. -She told me her life was such a collection of various fortunes--up and -down, in plenty and in misery, in prison and at liberty, at ease and -in torment--that it would take up a great many days to give me a -history of it; that I was come to see the end of it, as I had seen the -best part of the beginning; that I knew she was brought up tenderly -and fared delicately; but that now she was, with the prodigal, brought -to desire husks with swine, and even to want that supply. Her tears -flowed so strongly upon this discourse that they frequently -interrupted her, so that she could not go on without difficulty, and -at last could not go on at all. So I told her I would excuse her -telling any more of her story at that time; that I saw it was but a -renewing of her grief, and that I would rather contribute to her -forgetting what was past, and desired her to say no more of it; so I -broke off that part. - -In the meantime I told her, since Providence had thus cast her upon my -hands again, I would take care that she should not want, and that she -should not live hardly neither, though I could go no further at -present; and thus we parted for that time, and she continued in the -business of housekeeper; only that, to ease her, I gave her an -assistant; and, though I would not have it called so, it was neither -more or less than a servant to wait on her and do everything for her; -and told her, too, that it was so. - -After she had been some time in this place she recovered her spirits -and grew cheerful; her fallen flesh plumped up, and the sunk and -hollow parts filled again, so that she began to recover something of -that brightness and charming countenance which was once so very -agreeable to me; and sometimes I could not help having warm desires -towards her, and of taking her into her first station again; but there -were many difficulties occurred which I could not get over a great -while. - -But in the meantime another odd accident happened which put me to a -very great difficulty, and more than I could have thought such a thing -could be capable of. My tutor, a man of wit and learning, and full of -generous principles, who was at first moved with compassion for the -misery of this gentlewoman, and, even then, thought there were some -things more than common in her, as I have hinted; now when, as I say, -she was recovered, and her sprightly temper restored and comforted, he -was charmed so with her conversation that, in short, he fell in love -with her. - -I hinted in my former account of her that she had a charming tongue, -was mistress of abundance of wit, that she sung incomparably fine, and -was perfectly well-bred. These all remained witli her still, and made -her a very agreeable person; and, in short, he came to me one evening -and told me that he came to ask my leave to let him marry the -housekeeper. - -I was exceedingly perplexed at this proposal, but, however, I gave him -no room to perceive that. I told him I hoped he had considered well of -it before he brought it so far as to offer it to me, and supposed that -he had agreed that point so that I had no consent to give, but as she -had almost four years of her time to serve. - -He answered no; he paid such a regard to me that he would not so much -as take one step in such a thing without my knowledge, and assured me -he had not so much as mentioned it to her. I knew not what answer -indeed to make to him, but at last I resolved to put it off from -myself to her, because then I should have opportunity to talk with her -beforehand. So I told him he was perfectly free to act in the matter -as he thought fit; that I could not say either one thing or another to -it, neither had I any right to meddle in it. As to her serving out her -time with me, that was a trifle, and not worth naming, but I hoped he -would consider well every circumstance before he entered upon such an -affair as that. - -He told me he had fully considered it already, and that he was -resolved, seeing I was not against it, to have her whatever came of -it, for he believed he should be the happiest man alive with her. Then -he ran on in his character of her, how clever a woman she was in the -management of all manner of business, how admirable conversation she -was, what a wit, what a memory, what a vast share of knowledge, and -the like; all which I knew to be the truth, and yet short of her just -character too; for, as she was all that formerly when she was mine, -she was vastly improved in the school of affliction, and was all the -bright part, with a vast addition of temper, prudence, judgment, and -all that she formerly wanted. - -I had not much patience, as you may well imagine, till I saw my honest -housekeeper, to communicate this secret to her, and to see what course -she would steer on so nice an occasion. But I was suddenly taken so -ill with a cold which held for two days that I could not stir out of -doors; and in this time the matter was all done and over; for my tutor -had gone the same night and made his attack; but was coldly received -at first, which very much surprised him, for he made no doubt to have -her consent at first word. However, the next day he came again, and -again the third day, when, finding he was in earnest, and yet that she -could not think of anything of that kind, she told him, in few words, -that she thought herself greatly obliged to him for such a testimony -of his respect to her, and should have embraced it willingly, as -anybody would suppose one in her circumstances should do, but that she -would not abuse him so much, for that she must acknowledge to him she -was under obligations that prevented her; that was, in short, that she -was a married woman and had a husband alive. - -This was so sincere but so effectual an answer that he could have no -room to reply one word to it, but that he was very sorry, and that it -was a very great affliction to him, and as great a disappointment as -ever he met with. - -The next day after he had received this repulse I came to the -plantation-house, and, sending for the housekeeper, I began with her, -and told her that I understood she would have a very advantageous -proposal made to her, and that I would have her consider well of it, -and then told her what my tutor had said to me. - -She immediately fell a-crying, at which I seemed to wonder very much. -"Oh, sir!" says she, "how can you name such a thing to me?" I told her -that I could name it the better to her because I had been married -myself since I parted from her. "Yes, sir," says she; "but the case -alters; the crime being on my side, I ought not to marry; but," says -she, "that is not the reason at all, but I cannot do it." I pretended -to press her to it, though not sincerely, I must acknowledge, for my -heart had turned toward her for some time, and I had fully forgiven -her in my mind all her former conduct; but, I say, I seemed to press -her to it, at which she burst out in a passion. "No, no," says she; -"let me be your slave rather than the best man's wife in the world." I -reasoned with her upon her circumstances, and how such a marriage -would restore her to a state of ease and plenty, and none in the world -might ever know or suspect who or what she had been. But she could not -bear it; but, with tears, again raising her voice that I was afraid -she would be heard, "I beseech you," says she, "do not speak of it any -more. I was once yours, and I will never belong to any man else in the -world. Let me be as I am, or anything else you please to make me, but -not a wife to any man alive but yourself." - -I was so moved with the passion she was in at speaking this that I -knew not what I said or did for some time. At length I said to her, -"It is a great pity you had not long ago been as sincere as you are -now; it had been better for us both. However, as it is, you shall not -be forced to anything against your mind, nor shall you be the worse -treated for refusing; but how will you put him off? No doubt he -expects you will receive his proposal as an advantage; and as he sees -no farther into your circumstances, so it is." "Oh, sir!" says she, "I -have done all that already. He has his answer, and is fully satisfied. -He will never trouble you any more on that head;" and then she told me -what answer she had given him. - -From that minute I resolved that I would certainly take her again to -be my wife as before. I thought she had fully made me amends for her -former ill conduct, and she deserved to be forgiven (and so indeed she -did, if ever woman did, considering also what dreadful penance she had -undergone, and how long she had lived in misery and distress); and -that Providence had, as it were, cast her upon me again, and, above -all, had given her such an affection to me and so resolved a mind that -she could refuse so handsome an offer of deliverance rather than be -farther separated from me. - -As I resolved this in my mind, so I thought it was cruel to conceal it -any longer from her. Nor, in deed, could I contain myself any longer, -but I took her in my arms: "Well," says I, "you have given me such a -testimony of affection in this that I can no longer withstand. I -forgive you all that ever was between us on this account, and, since -you will be nobody's but mine, you shall be mine again as you were at -first." - -But this was too much for her the other way, and now she was so far -overcome with my yielding to her that, had she not got vent to her -passion by the most vehement crying, she must have died in my arms; -and I was forced to let her go and set her down in a chair, where she -cried for a quarter of an hour before she could speak a word. - -When she was come to herself enough to talk again, I told her we must -consider of a method how to bring this to pass, and that it must not -be done by publishing there that she was my wife before, for that -would expose us both, but that I would openly marry her again. This -she agreed was very rational, and accordingly, about two months after, -we were married again, and no man in the world ever enjoyed a better -wife or lived more happy than we both did for several years after. - -And now I began to think my fortunes were settled for this world, and -I had nothing before me but to finish a life of infinite variety, such -as mine had been, with a comfortable retreat, being both made wiser by -our sufferings and difficulties, and able to judge for ourselves what -kind of life would be best adapted to our present circumstances, and -in what station we might look upon ourselves to be most completely -happy. - -But man is a short-sighted creature at best, and in nothing more than -in that of fixing his own felicity, or, as we may say, choosing for -himself. One would have thought, and so my wife often suggested to me, -that the state of life that I was now in was as perfectly calculated -to make a man completely happy as any private station in the world -could be. We had an estate more than sufficient, and daily increasing, -for the supporting any state or figure that in that place we could -propose to ourselves or even desire to live in; we had everything that -was pleasant and agreeable, without the least mortification in any -circumstances of it; every sweet thing, and nothing to embitter it; -every good, and no mixture of evil with it; nor any gap open where we -could have the least apprehensions of any evil breaking out upon us. -Nor indeed was it easy for either of us, in our phlegmatic, melancholy -notions, to have the least imagination how anything disastrous could -happen to us in the common course of things, unless something should -befall us out of the ordinary way of Providence, or of its acting in -the world. - -But, an unseen mine blew up all this apparent tranquillity at once; -and though it did not remove my affairs there from me, yet it -effectually removed me from them and sent me a-wandering into the -world again--a condition full of hazards, and always attended with -circumstances dangerous to mankind, while he is left to choose his own -fortunes and be guided by his own short-sighted measures. - -I must now return to a circumstance of my history which had been past -for some time, and which relates to my conduct while I was last in -England. - -I mentioned how my faithful wife Moggy, with her tears and her -entreaties, had prevailed with me not to play the madman and openly -join in the rebellion with the late Lord Derwentwater and his party -when they entered Lancashire, and thereby, as I may say, saved my -life. But my curiosity prevailed so much at last that I gave her the -slip when they came to Preston, and at least thought I would go and -look at them, and see what they were likely to come to. - -My former wife's importunities, as above, had indeed prevailed upon me -from publicly embarking in that enterprise and joining openly with -them in arms; and by this, as I have observed, she saved my life to be -sure, because I had then publicly espoused the rebellion, and had been -known to have been among them, which might have been as fatal to me -afterwards, though I had not been taken in the action, as if I had. - -But when they advanced and came nearer to us to Preston, and there -appeared a greater spirit among the people in their favour, my old -doctor, whom I mentioned before, who was a Romish priest, and had -married us, inspired me with new zeal, and gave me no rest till he -obliged me, with only a good horse and arms, to join them the day -before they entered Preston, he himself venturing in the same posture -with me. - -I was not so public here as to be very well known, at least by any one -that had knowledge of me in the country where I lived; and this was -indeed my safety afterwards, as you will soon hear. But yet I was -known too among the men, especially among the Scots, with some of whom -I had been acquainted in foreign service. With these I was -particularly conversant, and, passing for a French officer, I talked -to them of making a select detachment to defend the pass between -Preston and the river and bridge, upon maintaining which, as I -insisted, depended the safety of the whole party. - -It was with some warmth that I spoke of that affair, and as I passed -among them, I say, for a French officer and a man of experience, it -caused several debates among them. But the hint was not followed, as -is well known, and from that moment I gave them all up as lost, and -meditated nothing but how to escape from them, which I effected the -night before they were surrounded by the royal cavalry. I did not do -this without great difficulty, swimming the river Ribble at a place -where, though I got well over, yet I could not for a long while get to -a place where my horse could land himself--that is to say, where the -ground was firm enough for him to take the land. However, at length I -got on shore, and riding very hard, came the next evening in sight of -my own dwelling. Here, after lying by in a wood till the depth of -night, I shot my horse in a little kind of a gravel pit, or marl pit, -where I soon covered him with earth for the present, and marching all -alone, I came about two in the morning to my house, where my wife, -surprised with joy and yet terribly frighted, let me in; and then I -took immediate measures to secure myself upon whatever incident might -happen, but which, as things were ordered, I had no need to make use -of, for the rebels being entirely defeated, and either all killed or -taken prisoners, I was not known by anybody in the country to have -been among them; no, nor so much as suspected. And thus I made a -narrow escape from the most dangerous action, and most foolishly -embarked in, of any that I had ever been engaged in before. - -It was very lucky to me that I killed and buried my horse, for he -would have been taken two days after, and would, to be sure, have been -known by those who had seen me upon him at Preston. But now, as none -knew I had been abroad, nor any such circumstance could discover me, I -kept close, and as my excursion had been short and I had not been -missed by any of my neighbours, if anybody came to speak with me, -behold I was at home. - -However, I was not thoroughly easy in my mind, and secretly wished I -was in my own dominions in Virginia, to which, in a little time, other -circumstances occurring, I made preparations to remove with my whole -family. - -In the meantime, as above, the action at Preston happened, and the -miserable people surrendered to the king's troops. Some were executed -for examples, as in such cases is usual, and the government extending -mercy to the multitude, they were kept in Chester Castle, and other -places a considerable time, till they were disposed of, some one way, -some another, as we shall hear. - -Several hundreds of them after this were, at their own request, -transported, as it is vulgarly expressed, to the plantations--that is -to say, sent to Virginia and other British colonies to be sold after -the usual manner of condemned criminals, or, as we call them there, -convicts, to serve a limited time in the country, and then be made -freemen again. Some of these I have spoken of above; but now, to my no -little uneasiness, I found, after I had been there some time, two -ships arrived with more of these people in the same river where all my -plantations lay. - -I no sooner heard of it but the first step I took was to resolve to -let none of them be bought into my work or to any of my plantations; -and this I did, pretending that I would not make slaves every day of -unfortunate gentlemen who fell into that condition for their zeal to -their party only, and the like. But the true reason was, that I -expected several of them would know me, and might perhaps betray me, -and make it public that I was one of the same sort, but had made my -escape; and so I might be brought into trouble, and, if I came off -with my life, might have all my effects seized on, and be reduced to -misery and poverty again at once, all which I thought I had done -enough to deserve. - -This was a just caution, but, as I found quickly, was not a sufficient -one, as my circumstances stood, for my safety; for though I bought -none of these poor men myself, yet several of my neighbours did, and -there was scarce a plantation near me but had some of them, more or -less, among them; so that, in a word, I could not peep abroad hardly -but I was in danger to be seen, and known too, by some or other of -them. - -I may be allowed to say that this was a very uneasy life to me, and -such that, in short, I found myself utterly unable to bear; for I was -now reduced from a great man, a magistrate, a governor or master of -three great plantations, and having three or four hundred servants at -my command, to be a poor self-condemned rebel, and durst not show my -face; and that I might with the same safety, or rather more, have -skulked about in Lancashire where I was, or gone up to London and -concealed myself there till things had been over. But now the danger -was come home to me, even to my door, and I expected nothing but to be -informed against every day, be taken up, and sent to England in irons, -and have all my plantations seized on as a forfeited estate to the -Crown. - -I had but one hope of safety to trust to, and that was, that having -been so little a while among them, done nothing for them, and passing -for a stranger, they never knew my name, but only I was called the -French colonel, or the French officer, or the French gentleman by -most, if not by all, the people here. And as for the doctor that went -with me, he had found means to escape too, though not the same way -that I did, finding the cause not likely to be supported, and that the -king's troops were gathering on all sides round them like a cloud. - -But to return to myself; this was no satisfaction to me, and what to -do I really knew not, for I was more at a loss how to shift in such a -distressed case as this, now it lay so close to me, than ever I was in -any difficulty in my life. The first thing I did was to come home and -make a confidence of the whole affair to my wife; and though I did it -generously without conditions, yet I did not do it without first -telling her how I was now going to put my life into her hands, that -she might have it in her power to pay me home for all that she might -think had been hard in my former usage of her; and that, in short, it -would be in her power to deliver me up into the hands of my enemies, -but that I would trust her generosity, as well as her renewed -affection, and put all upon her fidelity, and without any more -precaution I opened the whole thing to her, and particularly the -danger I was now in. - -A faithful counsellor is life from the dead, gives courage where the -heart is sinking, and raises the mind to a proper use of means; and -such she was to me indeed upon every step of this affair, and it was -by her direction that I took every step that followed for the -extricating myself out of this labyrinth. - -"Come, come, my dear," says she, "if this be all, there is no room for -any such disconsolate doings as your fears run you upon;" for I was -immediately for selling off my plantations and all my stock and -embarking myself forthwith, and to get to Madeira or to any place out -of the king's dominions. - -But my wife was quite of another opinion, and encouraging me on -another account, proposed two things, either my freighting a sloop -with provisions to the West Indies, and so taking passage from thence -to London, or letting her go away directly for England and endeavour -to obtain the king's pardon, whatever it might cost. - -I inclined to the last proposal; for though I was unhappily prejudiced -in favour of a wrong interest, yet I had always a secret and right -notion of the clemency and merciful disposition of his Majesty, and, -had I been in England, should, I believe, have been easily persuaded -to have thrown myself at his foot. - -But going to England as I was circumstanced must have been a public -action, and I must have made all the usual preparations for it, must -have appeared in public, have stayed till the crop was ready, and gone -away in form and state as usual, or have acted as if something -extraordinary was the matter, and have filled the heads of the people -there with innumerable suggestions of they knew not what. - -But my wife made all this easy to me from her own invention; for, -without acquainting me of any thing, she comes merrily to me one -morning before I was up: "My dear," says she, "I am very sorry to hear -that you are not very well this morning. I have ordered Pennico" (that -was a young negro girl which I had given her) "to make you a fire in -your chamber, and pray lie still where you are a while till it is -done." At the same instant the little negro came in with wood and a -pair of bellows, &c., to kindle the fire, and my wife, not giving me -time to reply, whispers close to my ear to lie still and say nothing -till she came up again to me. - -I was thoroughly frighted, that you may be sure of, and thought of -nothing but of being discovered, betrayed, and carried to England, -hanged, quartered, and all that was terrible, and my very heart sunk -within me. She perceived my disorder and turned back, assuring me -there was no harm, desired me to be easy, and she would come back -again presently and give me satisfaction in every particular that I -could desire. So I composed myself a while as well as I could, but it -was but a little while that I could bear it, and I sent Pennico -downstairs to find out her mistress, and tell her I was very ill and -must speak with her immediately; and the girl was scarce out of the -room before I jumped out of bed and began to dress me, that I might be -ready for all events. - -My wife was as good as her word, and was coming up as the girl was -coming down. "I see," says she, "you want patience, but pray do not -want government of yourself, but take that screen before your face, -and go to the window and see if you know any of those Scotchmen that -are in the yard, for there are seven or eight of them come about some -business to your clerk." - -I went and looked through the screen, and saw the faces of them all -distinctly, but could make nothing of them other than that they were -Scotchmen, which was easy to discern. However, it was no satisfaction -to me that I knew not their faces, for they might know mine for all -that, according to the old English proverb, "That more knows Tom Fool -than Tom Fool knows;" so I kept close in my chamber till I understood -they were all gone. - -After this my wife caused it to be given out in the house that I was -not well; and when this not being well had lasted three or four days, -I had my leg wrapped up in a great piece of flannel and laid upon a -stool, and there I was lame of the gout; and this served for about six -weeks, when my wife told me she had given it out that my gout was -rather rheumatic than a settled gout, and that I was resolved to take -one of my own sloops and go away to Nevis or Antigua, and use the hot -baths there for my cure. - -All this was very well, and I approved my wife's contrivance as -admirably good, both to keep me within doors eight or ten weeks at -first, and to convey me away afterwards without any extraordinary -bustle to be made about it; but still I did not know what it all -tended to, and what the design of it all was. But my wife desired me -to leave that to her; so I readily did, and she carried it all on with -a prudence not to be disputed; and after she had wrapped my legs in -flannel almost three months, she came and told me the sloop was ready -and all the goods put on board. "And now, my dear," says she, "I come -to tell you all the rest of my design; for," added she, "I hope you -will not think I am going to kidnap you, and transport you from -Virginia, as other people are transported to it, or that I am going to -get you sent away and leave myself in possession of your estate; but -you shall find me the same faithful, humble creature which I should -have been if I had been still your slave, and not had any hopes of -being your wife, and that in all my scheme which I have laid for your -safety, in this new exigence, I have not proposed your going one step -but where I shall go and be always with you, to assist and serve you -on all occasions, and to take my portion with you, of what kind soever -our lot may be." - -This was so generous, and so handsome a declaration of her fidelity, -and so great a token, too, of the goodness of her judgment in -considering of the things which were before her, and of what my -present circumstances called for, that, from that time forward, I gave -myself cheerfully up to her management without any hesitation in the -least, and after about ten days' preparation we embarked in a large -sloop of my own of about sixty tons. - -I should have mentioned here that I had still my faithful tutor, as I -called him, at the head of my affairs; and, as he knew who to -correspond with, and how to manage the correspondence in England, we -left all that part to him, as I had done before; and I did this with a -full satisfaction in his ability as well as in his integrity. It is -true he had been a little chagrined in that affair of my wife, who, as -I hinted before, had married me, after telling him, in answer to his -solicitations, that she had a husband alive. Now, though this was -literally true, yet, as it was a secret not fit to be opened to him, I -was obliged to put him off with other reasons, as well as I could, -perhaps not much to the purpose, and perhaps not much to his -satisfaction, so that I reckoned he looked on himself as not very -kindly used several ways. But he began to get over it, and to be easy, -especially at our going away, when he found that the trust of -everything was still left in his hands as it was before. - -When my wife had thus communicated everything of the voyage to me, and -we began to be ready to go off, she came to me one morning, and, with -her usual cheerfulness, told me she now came to tell me the rest of -her measures for the completing my deliverance; and this was, that -while we made this trip, as she called it, to the hot springs at -Nevis, she would write to a particular friend at London, whom she -could depend upon, to try to get a pardon for a person on account of -the late rebellion, with all the circumstances which my case was -attended with, viz., of having acted nothing among them but being -three days in the place; and, while we were thus absent, she did not -question but to have an answer, which she would direct to come so many -ways that we would be sure to have the first of it as soon as it was -possible the vessels could go and come. And in the meantime the -expense should be very small, for she would have an answer to the -grand question first, whether it could be obtained or no; and then an -account of the expense of it, that so I might judge for myself whether -I would part with the needful sum or no, before any money was -disbursed on my account. - -I could not but be thoroughly satisfied with her contrivance in this -particular, and I had nothing to add to it but that I would not have -her limit her friend so strictly, but that if he saw the way clear, -and that he was sure to obtain it, he should go through stitch with -it, if within the expense of two or three or four hundred pounds, and -that, upon advice of its being practicable, he should have bills -payable by such a person on delivery of the warrant for the thing. - -To fortify this, I enclosed in her packet a letter to one of my -correspondents, whom I could particularly trust, with a credit for the -money, on such-an-such conditions; but the honesty and integrity of my -wife's correspondence was such as prevented all the expense, and yet I -had the wished-for security, as if it had been all paid, as you shall -hear presently. - -All these things being fixed to our minds, and all things left behind -in good posture of settlement as usual, we embarked together and put -to sea, having the opportunity of an English man-of-war being on the -coast in pursuit of the pirates, and who was just then standing away -towards the Gulf of Florida, and told us he would see us safe as far -as New Providence, on the Bahama Islands. - -And now having fair weather and a pleasant voyage, and my flannels -taken off my legs, I must hint a little what cargo I had with me; for -as my circumstances were very good in that country, so I did not go -such a voyage as this, and with a particular reserve of fortunes -whatever might afterwards happen, without a sufficient cargo for our -support, and whatever exigence might happen. - -Our sloop, as I said, was of about sixty or seventy tons; and as -tobacco, which is the general produce of the country, was no -merchandise at Nevis, that is to say, for a great quantity, so we -carried very little, but loaded the sloop with corn, peas, meal, and -some barrels of pork; and an excellent cargo it was, most of it being -the produce of my own plantation. We took also a considerable sum of -money with us in Spanish gold, which was, as above, not for trade, but -for all events. I also ordered another sloop to be hired, and to be -sent after me, loaden with the same goods, as soon as they should have -advice from me that I was safe arrived. - -We came to the latitude of the island of Antigua, which was very near -to that of Nevis, whither we intended to go, on the eighteenth day -after our passing the Capes of Virginia, but had no sight of the -island; only our master said he was sure if he stood the same course -as he then was, and the gale held, I say he told me he was sure he -should make the island in less than five hours' sail; so he stood on -fair for the islands. However, his account had failed him, for we held -on all the evening, made no land, and likewise all night, when in the -grey of the morning we discovered from the topmast-head a brigantine -and a sloop making sail after us, at the distance of about six -leagues, fair weather, and the wind fresh at S.E. - -Our master soon understood what they were, and came down into the -cabin to me to let me know it. I was much surprised, you may be sure, -at the danger, but my poor wife took from me all the concern for -myself to take care of her, for she was frighted to that degree that I -thought we should not have been able to keep life in her. - -While we were thus under the first hurry and surprise of the thing, -suddenly another noise from the deck called us up to look out, and -that was, "Land! land!" The master and I--for by this time I had got -out of my cabin--run upon the deck, and there we saw the state of our -case very plain. The two rogues that stood after us laid on all the -canvas they could carry, and crowded after us amain, but at the -distance, as I have said, of about six leagues, rather more than less. -On the other hand, the land discovered lay about nine leagues right -ahead, so that if the pirates could get of us, so as to sail three -feet for our two, it was evident they would be up with us before we -could make the island. If not, we should escape them and get in; but -even then we had no great hope to do any more than to run the ship -ashore to save our lives, and so, stranding our vessel, spoil both -sloop and cargo. - -When we were making this calculation our master came in cheerfully, -and told me he had crowded on more sail, and found the sloop carried -it very well, and that he did not find the rogues gained much upon us, -and that especially if one of them did not, that was the sloop, he -found he could go away from the brigantine as he pleased. Thus we gave -them what they call a stern chase, and they worked hard to come up -with us till towards noon, when on a sudden they both stood away and -gave us over, to our great satisfaction you may be sure. - -We did not, it seems, so easily see the occasion of our deliverance as -the pirate did; for while we went spooning away large with the wind -for one of the islands, with those two spurs in our heels, that is, -with the two thieves at our sterns, there lay an English man-of-war in -the road of Nevis, which was the same island from whence they espied -the pirates, but the land lying between, we could not see them. - -As the man-of-war discovered them she immediately slipped her cable -and put herself under sail in chase of the rogues; and they as soon -perceived her, and being windward, put themselves upon a wind to -escape her; and thus we were delivered, and in half-an-hour more we -knew who was our deliverer, seeing the man-of-war stretch ahead clear -of the island, and stand directly after the pirates, who now crowded -from us as fast as they crowded after us before; and thus we got safe -into Antigua, after the terrible apprehension we had been in of being -taken. Our apprehensions of being taken now were much more than they -would have been on board a loaden ship from or to London, where the -most they ordinarily do is to rifle the ship, take what is valuable -and portable, and let her go. But ours being but a sloop, and all our -loading being good provisions, such as they wanted, to be sure, for -their ship's store, they would certainly have carried us away, ship -and all, taken out the cargo and the men, and perhaps have set the -sloop on fire; so that, as to our cargo of gold, it had been -inevitably lost, and we hurried away, nobody knows where, and used as -such barbarous fellows are wont to use innocent people as fall into -their hands. - -But we were now out of their hands, and had the satisfaction a few -days after to hear that the man-of-war pursued them so close, -notwithstanding they changed their course in the night, that the next -day they were obliged to separate and shift for themselves; so the -man-of-war took one of them, namely, the brigantine, and carried her -into Jamaica, but the other, viz., the sloop, made her escape. - -Being arrived here, we presently disposed of our cargo, and at a -tolerable good price; and now the question was, what I should do next. -I looked upon myself to be safe here from the fears I had been under -of being discovered as a rebel, and so indeed I was; but having been -now absent five months, and having sent the ship back with a cargo of -rum and molasses, which I knew was wanting in my plantations, I -received the same vessel back in return loaden, as at first, with -provisions. - -With this cargo my wife received a packet from London from the person -whom she had employed, as above, to solicit a pardon, who very -honestly wrote to her that he would not be so unjust to her friend, -whoever he was, as to put him to any expense for a private -solicitation; for that he was very well assured that his Majesty had -resolved, from his own native disposition to acts of clemency and -mercy to his subjects, to grant a general pardon, with some few -exceptions to persons extraordinary, and he hoped her friend was none -of the extraordinary persons to be excepted. - -This was a kind of life from the dead to us both, and it was resolved -that my wife should go back in the sloop directly to Virginia, where -she should wait the good news from England, and should send me an -account of it as soon as she received it. - -Accordingly she went back, and came safe with the sloop and cargo to -our plantation, from whence, after above four months' more -expectation, behold the sloop came to me again, but empty and gutted -of all her cargo, except about a hundred sacks of unground malt, which -the pirates, not knowing how to brew, knew not what to do with, and so -had left in her. However, to my infinite satisfaction, there was a -packet of letters from my wife, with another to her from England, as -well one from her friend as one from my own correspondent; both of -them inti mating that the king had signed an act of grace, that is to -say, a general free pardon, and sent me copies of the act, wherein it -was manifest that I was fully included. - -And here let me hint, that having now, as it were, received my life at -the hands of King George, and in a manner so satisfying as it was to -me, it made a generous convert of me, and I became sincerely given in -to the interest of King George; and this from a principle of gratitude -and a sense of my obligation to his Majesty for my life; and it has -continued ever since, and will certainly remain with me as long as any -sense of honour and of the debt of gratitude remains with me. I -mention this to hint how far in such cases justice and duty to -ourselves commands us; namely, that to those who graciously give us -our lives when it is in their power to take them away, those lives are -a debt ever after, and ought to be set apart for their service and -interest as long as any of the powers of life remain, for gratitude is -a debt that never ceases while the benefit received remains; and if my -prince has given me my life, I can never pay the debt fully, unless -such a circumstance as this should happen, that the prince's life -should be in my power, and I as generously preserved it. And yet -neither would the obligation be paid then, because the cases would -differ; thus, that my preserving the life of my prince was my natural -duty, whereas the prince on his side, my life being forfeited to him, -had no motive but mere clemency and beneficence. - -Perhaps this principle may not please all that read it; but as I have -resolved to guide my actions in things of such a nature by the rules -of strict virtue and principles of honour, so I must lay it down as a -rule of honour, that a man having once forfeited his life to the -justice of his prince and to the laws of his country, and receiving it -back as a bounty from the grace of his sovereign, such a man can never -lift up his hand again against that prince without a forfeiture of his -virtue and an irreparable breach of his honour and duty, and deserves -no pardon after it either from God or man. But all this is a -digression: I leave it as a sketch of the laws of honour, printed by -the laws of nature in the breast of a soldier or a man of honour, and -which, I believe, all impartial persons who understand what honour -means will subscribe to. - -But I return now to my present circumstances. My wife was gone, and -with her all my good fortune and success in business seemed to have -forsaken me; and I had another scene of misery to go through, after I -had thought that all my misfortunes were over and at an end. - -My sloop, as I have told you, arrived, but having met with a pirate -rogue in the Gulf of Florida, they took her first; then finding her -cargo to be all eatables, which they always want, they gutted her of -all her loading, except, as I have said, about a hundred sacks of -malt, which they really knew not what to do with; and, which was still -worse, they took away all the men except the master and two boys, who -they left on board just to run the vessel into Antigua, where they -said they were bound. - -But the most valuable part of my cargo, viz., a packet of letters from -England, those they left, to my inexpressible comfort and -satisfaction; and, particularly, that by those I saw my way home to -return to my wife and to my plantations, from which I promised myself -never to wander any more. - -In order to this, I now embarked myself and all my effects on board -the sloop, resolving to sail directly to the Capes of Virginia. My -captain beating it up to reach the Bahama channel, had not been two -days at sea but we were overtaken by a violent storm, which drove us -so far upon the coast of Florida as that we twice struck upon the -shore, and had we struck a third time we had been inevitably lost. A -day or two after that, the storm abating a little, we kept the sea, -but found the wind blowing so strong against our passing the gulf, and -the sea going so high, we could not hold it any longer. So we were -forced to bear away and make what shift we could; in which distress, -the fifth day after, we made land, but found it to be Cape ----, the -north-west part of the isle of Cuba. Here we found ourselves under a -necessity to run in under the land for shelter, though we had not come -to an anchor, so we had not touched the king of Spain's territories at -all. However, in the morning we were surrounded with five Spanish -barks, or boats, such as they call _barco longos_, full of men, who -instantly boarded us, took us and carried us into the Havannah, the -most considerable port belonging to the Spaniards in that part of the -world. - -Here the sloop was immediately seized, and in consequence plundered, -as any one that knows the Spaniards, especially in that country, will -easily guess. Our men were made prisoners and sent to the common gaol; -and as for myself and the captain, we were carried before the Alcade -Major, or intendant of the place, as criminals. - -I spoke Spanish very well, having served under the king of Spain in -Italy, and it stood me in good stead at this time; for I so -effectually argued the injustice of their treatment of me that the -governor, or what I ought to call him, frankly owned they ought not to -have stopped me, seeing I was in the open sea pursuing my voyage, and -offered no offence to anybody, and had not landed or offered to land -upon any part of his Catholic Majesty's dominions till I was brought -as a prisoner. - -It was a great favour that I could obtain thus much; but I found it -easier to obtain an acknowledgment that I had received wrong than to -get any satisfaction for that wrong, and much less was there any hope -or prospect of restitution; and I was let know that I was to wait till -an account could be sent to the viceroy of Mexico, and orders could be -received back from him how to act in the affair. - -I could easily foresee what all this tended to, namely, to a -confiscation of the ship and goods by the ordinary process at the -place; and that my being left to the decision of the viceroy of Mexico -was but a pretended representation of things to him from the -corregidore or judge of the place. - -However, I had no remedy but the old insignificant thing called -patience, and this I was better furnished with because I did not so -much value the loss as I made them believe I did. My greatest -apprehensions were that they would detain me and keep me as a prisoner -for life, and perhaps send me to their mines in Peru, as they have -done many, and pretended to do to all that come on shore in their -dominions, how great soever the distresses may have been which have -brought them thither, and which has been the reason why others who -have been forced on shore have committed all manner of violence upon -the Spaniards in their turn, resolving, however dear they sold their -lives, not to fall into their hands. - -But I got better quarter among them than that too, which was, as I -have said, much of it owing to my speaking Spanish, and to my telling -them how I had fought in so many occasions in the quarrel of his -Catholic Majesty in Italy; and, by great good chance, I had the king -of France's commission for lieutenant-colonel in the Irish brigade in -my pocket, where it was mentioned that the said brigade was then -serving in the armies of France, under the orders of his Catholic -Majesty, in Italy. - -I failed not to talk up the gallantry and personal bravery of his -Catholic Majesty on all occasions, and particularly in many battles -where, by the way, his Majesty had never been at all, and in some -where I had never been myself. But I found I talked to people who knew -nothing of the matter, and so anything went down with them if it did -but praise the king of Spain and talk big of the Spanish cavalry, of -which, God knows, there was not one regiment in the army, at least -while I was there. - -However, this way of managing myself obtained me the liberty of the -place, upon my parole that I would not attempt an escape; and I -obtained also, which was a great favour, to have two hundred pieces of -eight allowed me out of the sale of my cargo for subsistence till I -could negotiate my affairs at Mexico. As for my men, they were -maintained as prisoners at the public charge. - -Well, after several months' solicitation and attendance, all I could -obtain was the satisfaction of seeing my ship and cargo confiscated -and my poor sailors in a fair way to be sent to the mines. The last I -begged off, upon condition of paying three hundred pieces of eight for -their ransom, and having them set on shore at Antigua, and myself to -remain hostage for the payment of the said three hundred pieces of -eight, and for two hundred pieces of eight, which I had already had, -and for five hundred pieces of eight more for my own ransom, if, upon -a return from Mexico, the sentence of confiscation, as above, should -be confirmed by the viceroy. - -These were hard articles indeed, but I was forced to submit to them; -nor, as my circumstances were above all such matters as these, as to -substance, did I lay it much to heart. The greatest difficulty that -lay in my way was, that I knew not how to correspond with my friends -in any part of the world, or which way to supply myself with -necessaries or with money for the payment I had agreed to, the -Spaniards being so tenacious of their ports that they allowed nobody -to come on shore, or indeed near the shore, from any part of the -world, upon pain of seizure and confiscation, as had been my case -already. Upon this difficulty I began to reason with the corregidore, -and tell him that he put things upon us that were impossible, and that -were inconsistent with the customs of nations; that, if a man was -prisoner at Algiers, they would allow him to write to his friends to -pay his ransom, and would admit the person that brought it to come and -go free as a public person, and if they did not, no treaty could be -carried on for the ransom of a slave, nor the conditions be performed -when they are agreed upon. - -I brought it then down to my own case, and desired to know, upon -supposition, that I might, within the time limited in that agreement, -have the sums of money ready for the ransom of my men and of myself, -how I should obtain to have notice given me of it, or how it should be -brought, seeing the very persons bringing that notice, or afterwards -presuming to bring the money, might be liable to be seized and -confiscated, as I had been, and the money itself be taken as a second -prize, without redeeming the first. - -Though this was so reasonable a request that it could not be withstood -in point of argument, yet the Spaniard shrunk his head into his -shoulders, and said they had not power sufficient to act in such a -case; that the king's laws were so severe against the suffering any -strangers to set their foot on his Catholic Majesty's dominions in -America, and they could not dispense with the least tittle of them -with out a particular _assiento_, as they called it, from the -Consulado, or Chamber of Commerce, at Seville, or a command under the -hand and seal of the viceroy of Mexico. - -"How! signior corregidore," said I, with some warmth, and, as it were, -with astonishment, "have you not authority enough to sign a passport -for an agent, or ambassador, to come on shore here, from any of the -king of Great Britain's governors in these parts, under a white flag, -or flag of truce, to speak with the governor of this place, or with -any other person in the king's name, on the subject of such business -as the governor may have to communicate? Why," said I, "if you cannot -do that, you cannot act according to the law of nations." - -He shook his head, but still said no, he could not do even so much as -that; but here one of the military governors put in and opposed him, -and they two differed warmly, the first insisting that their orders -were deficient in that particular; but the other said that, as they -were bound up to them, it could not be in their power to act -otherwise, and that they were answerable for the ill consequences. - -"Well, then," says the governor to the corregidore, "now you have kept -this Englishman as hostage for the ransom of the men that you have -dismissed, suppose he tells you the money is ready, either at such, or -such, or such a place, how shall he bring it hither? You will take all -the people prisoners that offer to bring it; what must he do? If you -say you will send and fetch it, what security shall he have that he -shall have his liberty when it is paid you? and why should he trust -you so far as to pay the money, and yet remain here a prisoner?" - -This carried so much reason with it that the corregidore knew not what -to say, but that so was the law, and he could act no otherwise but by -the very letter of it; and here each was so positive that nothing -could determine it but another express to be sent to the viceroy of -Mexico. - -Upon this the governor was so kind as to say he would get me a -passport for anybody that should bring the money, and any vessel they -were in, by his own authority, and for their safe returning, and -taking me with them, provided I would answer for it that they should -bring no European or other goods whatever with them, and should not -set foot on shore without his express permission, and provided he did -not receive orders to the contrary, in the meantime, from any superior -hand; and that, even in such a case, they should have liberty to go -back freely from whence they came, under the protection of a white -flag. - -I bowed very respectfully to the governor in token of my acknowledging -his justice, and then presented my humble petition to him that he -would allow my men to take their own sloop; that it should be rated at -a certain value, and would be obliged they should bring specie on -board with them, and that they should either pay it for the sloop or -leave the sloop again. - -Then he inquired to what country he would send them for so much money, -and if I could assure him of the payment; and when he understood it -was no farther than to Virginia he seemed very easy; and, to satisfy -the corregidore, who still stood off, adhering with a true Spanish -stiffness to the letter of the law, the said governor calls out to me: -"Signior," says he, "I shall make all this matter easy to you, if you -agree to my proposal. Your men shall have the sloop, on condition you -shall be my hostage for her return; but they shall not take her as -your sloop, though she shall in the effect be yours on the payment of -the money; but you shall take two of my men on board with you, upon -your parole for their safe return, and when she returns she shall -carry his Catholic Majesty's colours, and be entered as one of the -sloops belonging to the Havannah; one of the Spaniards to be -commander, and to be called by such a name as he shall appoint." - -This the corregidore came into immediately, and said this was within -the letter, of the king's commanderie or precept; upon condition, -however, that she should bring no European goods on board. I desired -it might be put in other words; namely, that she should bring no -European goods on shore. It cost two days' debate between these two -whether it should pass that no European goods should be brought in the -ship or brought on shore; but having found means to intimate that I -meant not to trade there, but would not be tied from bringing a small -present to a certain person in acknowledgment of favours--I say, after -I had found room to place such a hint right where it should be placed, -I found it was all made easy to me; and it was all agreed presently -that, after the ransom was paid, and the ship also bought, it was but -reasonable that I should have liberty to trade to any other country -not in the dominions of the king of Spain, so to make up my losses; -and that it would be hard to oblige my men to bring away the vessel -light, and so lose the voyage, and add so much to our former -misfortunes; that, so long as no goods were brought on shore in the -country belonging to his Catholic Majesty's dominions, which was all -that they had to defend, the rest was no business of theirs. - -Now I began to see my way through this unhappy business, and to find, -that as money would bring me out of it, so money would bring it to -turn to a good account another way. Wherefore I sent the sloop away -under Spanish colours, and called her the _Nuestra Signiora de la Val -de Grace_, commanded by Signior Giraldo de Nesma, one of the two -Spaniards. - -With the sloop I sent letters to my wife and to my chief manager with -orders to load her back, as I there directed, viz., that she should -have two hundred barrels of flour, fifty barrels of pease; and, to -answer my other views, I ordered a hundred bales to be made up of all -sorts of European goods, such as not my own warehouses only would -supply, but such as they could be supplied with in other warehouses -where I knew they had credit for anything. - -In this cargo I directed all the richest and most valuable English -goods they had, or could get, whether linen, woollen, or silk, to be -made up; the coarser things, such as we use in Virginia for clothing -of servants, such I ordered to be left behind for the use of the -plantation. In less than seven weeks' time the sloop returned, and I, -that failed not every day to look out for her on the strand, was the -first that spied her at sea at a distance, and knew her by her sails, -but afterwards more particularly by her signals. - -When she returned she came into the road with her Spanish ancient -flying, and came to an anchor as directed; but I, that had seen her -some hours before, went directly to the governor and gave him an -account of her being come, and fain I would have obtained the favour -to have his excellency, as I called him, go on board in person, that -he might see how well his orders were executed. But he declined that, -saying he could not justify going off of the island, which was, in -short, to go out of his command of the fort, which he could not -reassume without a new commission from the king's own hand. - -Then I asked leave to go on board myself, which he granted me; and I -brought on shore with me the full sum in gold which I had conditioned -to pay for the ransom both of my men and myself, and for the purchase -of the sloop; and as I obtained leave to land in a different place, so -my governor sent his son with six soldiers to receive and convey me -with the money to the castle, where he commanded, and therein to his -own house. I had made up the money in heavy parcels, as if it had been -all silver, and gave it to two of my men who belonged to the sloop, -with orders to them that they should make it seem, by their carrying -it, to be much heavier than it was. This was done to conceal three -parcels of goods which I had packed up with the money to make a -present to the governor as I intended. - -When the money was carried in and laid down on a table, the governor -ordered my men to withdraw, and I gave the soldiers each of them a -piece of eight to drink, for which they were very thankful, and the -governor seemed well pleased with it also. Then I asked him presently -if he would please to receive the money. He said no, he would not -receive it but in presence of the corregidore and the other people -concerned. Then I begged his excellency, as I called him, to give me -leave to open the parcels in his presence, for that I would do myself -the honour to acknowledge his favours in the best manner I could. - -He told me no, he could not see anything be brought on shore but the -money; but, if I had brought anything on shore for my own use, he -would not be so strict as to inquire into that, so I might do what I -pleased myself. - -Upon that I went into the place, shut myself in, and having opened all -the things, placed them to my mind. There was five little parcels, as -follows:-- - - -1, 2. A piece of twenty yards fine English broad cloth, five yards -black, five yards crimson, in one parcel; and the rest of fine -mixtures in another parcel. - -3. A piece of thirty ells of fine Holland linen. - -4. A piece of eighteen yards of fine English brocaded silk. - -5. A piece of black Colchester bays. - - -After I had placed these by themselves, I found means, with some -seeming difficulties and much grimace, to bring him to know that this -was intended for a present to himself. After all that part was over, -and he had seemed to accept them, he signified, after walking a -hundred turns and more in the room by them, by throwing his hat, which -was under his arm, upon them, and making a very stiff bow; I say, -after this he seemed to take his leave of me for a while, and I waited -in an outer room. When I was called in again, I found that he had -looked over all the particulars, and caused them to be removed out of -the place. - -But when I came again I found him quite another man. He thanked me for -my present; told me it was a present fit to be given to a viceroy of -Mexico rather than to a mere governor of a fort; that he had done me -no services suitable to such a return, but that he would see if he -could not oblige me further before I left the place. - -After our compliments were over I obtained leave to have the -corregidore sent for, who accordingly came, and in his presence the -money stipulated for the ransom of the ship and of the men was paid. - -But here the corregidore showed that he would be as severely just on -my side as on theirs, for he would not admit the money as a ransom for -us as prisoners, but as a deposit for so much as we were to be -ransomed for if the sentence of our being made prisoners should be -confirmed. - -And then the governor and corregidore, joining together, sent a -representation of the whole affair--at least we were told so--to the -viceroy of Mexico; and it was privately hinted to me that I would do -well to stay for the return of the _aviso_--that is, a boat which they -send over the bay to Vera Cruz with an express to Mexico, whose return -is generally performed in two months. - -I was not unwilling to stay, having secret hints given me that I -should find some way to go with my sloop towards Vera Cruz myself, -where I might have an occasion to trade privately for the cargo which -I had on board. But it came about a nearer way; for, about two days -after this money being deposited, as above, the governor's son invited -himself on board my sloop, where I told him I would be very glad to -see him, and whither, at the same time, he brought with him three -considerable merchants, Spaniards, two of them not inhabitants of the -place. - -When they were on board they were very merry and pleasant, and I -treated them so much to their satisfaction that, in short, they were -not well able to go on shore for that night, but were content to take -a nap on some carpets, which I caused to be spread for them; and that -the governor's son might think himself well used, I brought him a very -good silk nightgown, with a crimson velvet cap, to lie down in, and in -the morning desired him to accept of them for his use, which he took -very kindly. - -During that merry evening one of the merchants, not so touched with -drink as the young gentleman, nor so as not to mind what it was he -came about, takes an occasion to withdraw out of the great cabin and -enter into a parley with the master of the sloop in order to trade for -what European goods we had on board. The master took the hint, and -gave me notice of what had passed, and I gave him instructions what to -say and what to do; according to which instructions they made but few -words, bought the goods for about five thousand pieces of eight, and -carried them away themselves, and at their own hazards. - -This was very agreeable to me, for now I began to see I should lick -myself whole by the sale of this cargo, and should make myself full -amends of Jack Spaniard for all the injuries he had done me in the -first of these things. With this view I gave my master or captain of -the sloop instructions for sale of all the rest of the goods, and left -him to manage by himself, which he did so well that he sold the whole -cargo the next day to the three Spaniards; with this additional -circumstance, that they desired the sloop might carry the goods, as -they were on board, to such part of the _terra firma_ as they should -appoint between the Honduras and the coast of La Vera Cruz. - -It was difficult for me to make good this part of the bargain, but -finding the price agreed for would very well answer the voyage, I -consented. But then how to send the sloop away and remain among the -Spaniards when I was now a clear man, this was a difficulty too, as it -was also to go away, and not wait for a favourable answer from the -viceroy of Mexico to the representation of the governor and the -corregidore. However, at last I resolved to go in the sloop, fall out -what would; so I went to the governor and represented to him that, -being now to expect a favourable answer from Mexico, it would be a -great loss to me to keep the sloop there all the while, and I desired -his leave for me to go with the sloop to Antigua to sell and dispose -of the cargo, which he well knew I was obliged not to bring on shore -there at the Havannah, and which would be in danger of being spoiled -by lying so long on board. This I obtained readily, with license to -come again into the road, and, for myself only, to come on shore in -order to hear the viceroy's pleasure in my case, which was depending. - -Having thus obtained a license or passport for the sloop and myself, I -put to sea with the three Spanish merchants on board with me. They -told me they did not live at the Havannah, but it seems one of them -did; and some rich merchants of the Havannah, or of the parts -thereabouts in the same island, were concerned with them, for they -brought on board, that night we put to sea, a great sum of money in -pieces of eight; and, as I understood afterwards, that these merchants -bought the cargo of me, and though they gave me a very great price for -everything, yet that they sold them again to the merchants, who they -procured on the coast of La Vera Cruz, at a prodigious advantage, so -that they got above a hundred per cent, after I had gained very -sufficiently before. - -We sailed from the Havannah directly for Vera Cruz. I scrupled -venturing into the port at first, and was very uneasy lest I should -have another Spanish trick put upon me; but as we sailed under Spanish -colours, they showed us such authentic papers from the proper officers -that there was no room to fear anything. - -However, when we came in sight of the Spanish coast, I found they had -a secret clandestine trade to carry on, which, though it was secret, -yet they knew the way of it so well that it was but a mere road to -them. The case was this: we stood in close under the shore in the -night, about six leagues to the north of the port, where two of the -three merchants went on shore in the boat, and in three hours or there -abouts they came on board again with five canoes and seven or eight -merchants more with them, and as soon as they were on board we stood -off to sea, so that by daylight we were quite out of sight of land. - -I ought to have mentioned before that as soon as we were put to sea -from the Havannah, and during our voyage into the Gulf of Mexico, -which was eight days, we rummaged the whole cargo, and opening every -bale as far as the Spanish merchants desired, we trafficked with them -for the whole cargo, except the barrels of flour and pease. - -This cargo was considerable in itself, for my wife's account or -invoice, drawn out by my tutor and manager, amounted to 2684, 10s., -and I sold the whole, including what had been sold in the evening, -when they were on board first, as I have said, for thirty-eight -thousand five hundred and ninety-three pieces of eight, and they -allowed me twelve hundred pieces of eight for the freight of the -sloop, and made my master and the seamen very handsome presents -besides; and they were well able to do this too, as you shall hear -presently. - -After we were gotten out of sight of land the Spaniards fell to their -traffic, and our three merchants opened their shop, as they might say, -for it was their shop. As to me, I had nothing to do with it or with -their goods. They drove their bargain in a few hours, and at night we -stood in again for the shore, when the five canoes carried a great -part of the goods on shore, and brought the money back in specie, as -well for that they carried as for all the rest, and at their second -voyage carried all away clear, leaving me nothing on board but my -barrels of flour and pease, which they bade me money for too, but not -so much as I expected. - -Here I found that my Spanish merchants made above seventy thousand -pieces of eight of the cargo I had sold them, upon which I had a great -mind to be acquainted with those merchants on the _terra firma_, who -were the last customers; for it presently occurred to me that I could -easily go with a sloop from Virginia, and taking a cargo directed on -purpose from England of about 5000 or 6000, I might easily make four -of one. With this view I began to make a kind of an acquaintance with -the Spaniards which came in the canoes, and we became so intimate that -at last, with the consent of the three Spaniards of the Havannah, I -accepted an invitation on shore to their house, which was a little -villa, or rather plantation, where they had an _ingenio_, that is to -say, a sugar-house, or sugar-work, and there they treated us like -princes. - -I took occasion at this invitation to say that, if I knew how to find -my way thither again, I could visit them once or twice a year, very -much to their advantage and mine too. One of the Spaniards took the -hint, and taking me into a room by myself, "Seignior," says he, "if -you have any thoughts of coming to this place again, I shall give you -such directions as you shall be sure not to mistake; and, upon either -coming on shore in the night and coming up to this place, or upon -making the signals which we shall give you, we will not fail to come -off to you, and bring money enough for any _cargaison_" (so they call -it) "that you shall bring." - -I took all their directions, took their paroles of honour for my -safety, and, without taking any notice to my first three merchants, -laid up the rest in my most secret thoughts, resolving to visit them -again in as short a time as I could; and thus having, in about five -days, finished all our merchandising, we stood off to sea, and made -for the island of Cuba, where I set my three Spaniards on shore with -all their treasure, to their heart's content, and made the best of my -way to Antigua, where, with all the despatch I could, I sold my two -hundred barrels of flour, which, however, had suffered a little by the -length of the voyage; and having laden the sloop with rum, molasses, -and sugar, I set sail again for the Havannah. - -I was now uneasy indeed, for fear of the pirates, for I was a rich -ship, having, besides goods, near forty thousand pieces of eight in -silver. - -When I came back to the Havannah, I went on shore to wait on the -governor and the corregidore, and to hear what return was had from the -viceroy, and had the good fortune to know that the viceroy had -disallowed that part of the sentence which condemned us as prisoners -and put a ransom on us, which he insisted could not be but in time of -open war. But as to the confiscation, he deferred it to the Chamber or -Council of Commerce at Seville, and the appeal to the king, if such be -preferred. - -This was, in some measure, a very good piece of justice in the -viceroy; for, as we had not been on shore, we could not be legally -imprisoned; and for the rest, I believe if I would have given myself -the trouble to have gone to Old Spain, and have preferred my claim to -both the ship and the cargo, I had recovered them also. - -However, as it was, I was now a freeman without ransom, and my men -were also free, so that all the money which I had deposited, as above, -was returned me; and thus I took my leave of the Havannah, and made -the best of my way for Virginia, where I arrived after a year and a -half's absence; and notwithstanding all my losses, came home above -forty thousand pieces of eight richer than I went out. - -As to the old affair about the Preston prisoners, that was quite at an -end, for the general pardon passed in Parliament made me perfectly -easy, and I took no more thought about that part. I might here very -usefully observe how necessary and inseparable a companion fear is to -guilt. It was but a few months before that the face of a poor Preston -transport would have frighted me out of my wits; to avoid them I -feigned myself sick, and wrapped my legs in flannel, as if I had the -gout; whereas now they were no more surprise to me, nor was I any more -uneasy to see them, than I was to see any other of the servants of the -plantations. - -And that which was more particular than all was, that, though before I -fancied every one of them would know me and remember me, and -consequently betray and accuse me, now, though I was frequently among -them, and saw most of them, if not all of them, one time or other, -nay, though I remembered several of their faces, and even some of -their names, yet there was not a man of them that ever took the least -notice of me, or of having known or seen me before. - -It would have been a singular satisfaction to me if I could have known -so much as this of them before, and have saved me all the fatigue, -hazard, and misfortune that befell me afterwards; but man, a short -sighted creature, sees so little before him that he can neither -anticipate his joys nor prevent his disasters, be they ever so little -a distance from him. - -I had now my head full of my West India project, and I began to make -provision for it accordingly. I had a full account of what European -goods were most acceptable in New Spain; and, to add to my speed, I -knew that the Spaniards were in great want of European goods, the -galleons from Old Spain having been delayed to an unusual length of -time for the two years before. Upon this account, not having time, as -I thought, to send to England for a cargo of such goods as were most -proper, I resolved to load my sloop with tobacco and rum, the last I -brought from Antigua, and go away to Boston in New England, and to New -York, and see if I could pick up a cargo to my mind. - -Accordingly, I took twenty thousand pieces of eight in money, and my -sloop laden as above, and taking my wife with me, we went away. It was -an odd and new thing at New England to have such a quantity of goods -bought up there by a sloop from Virginia, and especially to be paid -for in ready money, as I did for most of my goods; and this set all -the trading heads upon the stretch, to inquire what and who I was; to -which they had an immediate and direct answer, that I was a very -considerable planter in Virginia, and that was all any of my men on -board the sloop could tell of me, and enough too. - -Well, it was the cause of much speculation among them, as I heard at -second and third hands. Some said, "He is certainly going to Jamaica;" -others said, "He is going to trade with the Spaniards;" others that -"He is going to the South Sea and turn half merchant, half pirate, on -the coast of Chili and Peru;" some one thing, some another, as the men -gossips found their imaginations directed; but we went on with our -business, and laid out twelve thousand pieces of eight, besides our -cargo of rum and tobacco, and went from thence to New York, where we -laid out the rest. - -The chief of the cargo we bought here was fine English broadcloth, -serges, druggets, Norwich stuffs, bays, says, and all kinds of woollen -manufactures, as also linen of all sorts, a very great quantity, and -near 1000 in fine silks of several sorts. Being thus freighted, I -came back safe to Virginia, and with very little addition to my cargo, -began to prepare for my West India voyage. - -I should have mentioned that I had built upon my sloop and raised her -a little, so that I had made her carry twelve guns, and fitted her up -for defence; for I thought she should not be attacked and boarded by a -few Spanish _barco longos_, as she was before; and I found the benefit -of it afterwards, as you shall hear. - -We set sail the beginning of August, and as I had twice been attacked -by pirates in passing the Gulf of Florida, or among the Bahama -Islands, I resolved, though it was farther about, to stand off to sea, -and so keep, as I believed it would be, out of the way of them. - -We passed the tropic, as near as we could guess, just where the famous -Sir William Phipps fished up the silver from the Spanish plate wreck, -and, standing in between the islands, kept our course W. by S., -keeping under the isle of Cuba, and so running away, trade, as they -call it, into the great Gulf of Mexico, leaving the island of Jamaica -to the S. and S.E., by this means avoiding, as I thought, all the -Spaniards of Cuba or the Havannah. - -As we passed the west point of Cuba three Spanish boats came off to -board us, as they had done before, on the other side of the island. -But they found themselves mistaken; we were too many for them, for we -run out our guns, which they did not perceive before, and firing three -or four shots at them, they retired. - -The next morning they appeared again, being five large boats and a -barque, and gave us chase; but we then spread our Spanish colours, and -brought to to fight them, at which they retired; so we escaped this -danger by the addition of force which we had made to our vessel. - -We now had a fair run for our port, and as I had taken very good -directions, I stood away to the north of St. John d'Ulva, and then -running in for the shore, found the place appointed exactly; and going -on shore, I sent the master of my sloop directly to the _ingenio_, -where he found the Spanish merchant at his house, and where he dwelt -like a sovereign prince, who welcomed him, and understanding that I -was in a particular boat at the creek, as appointed, he came -immediately with him, and bringing another Spaniard from a villa not -far off, in about four hours they were with me. - -They would have persuaded me to go up to their houses and have stayed -there till the next night, ordering the sloop to stand off as usual, -but I would not consent to let the sloop go to sea without me, so we -went on board directly, and, as the night was almost run, stood off to -sea; so by daybreak we were quite out of sight of land. - -Here we began, as I said before, to open shop, and I found the -Spaniards were extremely surprised at seeing such a cargo--I mean so -large; for, in short, they had cared not if it had been four times as -much. They soon ran through the contents of all the bales we opened -that night, and, with very little dispute about the price, they -approved and accepted all that I showed them; but as they said they -had not money for any greater parcel, they agreed to go on shore the -next evening for more money. - -However, we spent the remainder of the night in looking over and -making inventories or invoices of the rest of the cargo, that so they -might see the goods, know the value, and know what more money they had -to bring. - - -[Illustration: Colonel Jacque's arrival is announced] - - -Accordingly, in the evening we stood in for the shore, and they -carried part of the cargo with them, borrowing the sloop's boat to -assist them; and after they had lodged and landed the goods they came -on board again, bringing three of the other merchants with them who -were concerned before, and money enough to clear the whole ship--ay, -and ship and all, if I had been willing to sell her. - -To give them their due, they dealt with me like men of honour. They -were indeed sensible that they bought everything much cheaper of me -than they did before of the three merchants of the Havannah, these -merchants having been, as it were, the hucksters, and bought them -first of me, and then advanced, as I have said, above one hundred per -cent, upon the price they gave me. But yet, at the same time, I -advanced in the price much more now than I did before to the said -Spaniards; nor was it without reason, because of the length and risk -of the voyage, both out and home, which now lay wholly upon me. - -In short, I sold the whole cargo to them, and for which I received -near two hundred thousand pieces of eight in money; besides which, -when they came on board the second time, they brought all their boats -loaden with fresh provisions, hogs, sheep, fowls, sweetmeats, &c., -enough for my whole voyage, all which they made a present of to me. -And thus we finished our traffic to our mutual satisfaction, and -parted with promises of further commerce, and with assurances on their -part of all acts of friendship and assistance that I could desire if -any disaster should befall me in any of these adventures--as indeed -was not improbable, considering the strictness and severity of their -customs in case any people were trading upon their coast. - -I immediately called a council with my little crew which way we should -go back. The mate was for beating it up to windward and getting up to -Jamaica; but as we were too rich to run any risks, and were to take -the best course to get safe home, I thought, and so did the master of -the sloop, that our best way was to coast about the bay, and, keeping -the shore of Florida on board, make the shortest course to the gulf, -and so make for the coast of Carolina, and to put in there into the -first port we could, and wait for any English men-of-war that might be -on the coast to secure us to the capes. - -This was the best course we could take, and proved very safe to us, -excepting that, about the cape of Florida, and on the coast in the -gulf, till we came to the height of St. Augustine, we were several -times visited with the Spaniards' _barco longos_ and small barks, in -hopes of making a prize of us; but carrying Spanish colours deceived -most of them, and a good tier of guns kept the rest at a distance, so -that we came safe, though once or twice in danger of being run on -shore by a storm of wind--I say, we came safe into Charles River in -Carolina. - -From hence I found means to send a letter home, with an account to my -wife of my good success; and having an account that the coast was -clear of pirates, though there were no men-of-war in the place, I -ventured forward, and, in short, got safe into the Bay of Chesapeake, -that is to say, within the capes of Virginia, and in a few days more -to my own house, having been absent three months and four days. - -Never did any vessel on this side the world make a better voyage in so -short a time that I made in this sloop; for by the most moderate -computation I cleared in these three months 25,000 sterling in ready -money, all the charges of the voyages to New England also being -reckoned up. - -Now was my time to have sat still, contented with what I had got, if -it was in the power of man to know when his good fortune was at the -highest. And more, my prudent wife gave it as her opinion that I -should sit down satisfied and push the affair no farther, and -earnestly persuaded me to do so. But I, that had a door open, as I -thought, to immense treasure, that had found the way to have a stream -of the golden rivers of Mexico flow into my plantation of Virginia, -and saw no hazards more than what were common to all such things in -the prosecution--I say, to me these things looked with another face, -and I dreamed of nothing but millions and hundreds of thousands; so, -contrary to all moderate measures, I pushed on for another voyage, and -laid up a stock of all sorts of goods that I could get together proper -for the trade. I did not indeed go again to New England, for I had by -this time a very good cargo come from England pursuant to a commission -I had sent several months before; so that, in short, my cargo, -according to the invoice now made out, amounted to above 10,000 -sterling first cost, and was a cargo so sorted and so well bought that -I expected to have advanced upon them much more in proportion than I -had done in the cargo before. - -With these expectations we began our second voyage in April, being -about five months after our return from the first. We had not indeed -the same good speed, even in our beginning, as we had at first; for -though we stood off to sea about sixty leagues in order to be out of -the way of the pirates, yet we had not been above five days at sea but -we were visited and rifled by two pirate barks, who, being bound to -the northward, that is to say, the banks of Newfoundland, took away -all our provisions and all our ammunition and small arms, and left us -very ill provided to pursue our voyage; and it being so near home, we -thought it advisable to come about and stand in for the capes again, -to restore our condition and furnish ourselves with stores of all -kinds for our voyage. This took us up about ten days, and we put to -sea again. As for our cargo, the pirates did not meddle with it, being -all bale goods, which they had no present use for, and knew not what -to do with if they had them. - -We met with no other adventure worth naming till, by the same course -that we had steered before, we came into the Gulf of Mexico; and the -first misfortune we met with here was, that, on the back of Cuba, -crossing towards the point of the _terra firma_, on the coast of -Yucatan, we had sight of the flota of New Spain, that is, of the ships -which come from Carthagena or Porto Bello, and go to the Havannah, in -order to pursue their voyage to Europe. - -They had with them one Spanish man-of-war and three frigates. Two of -the frigates gave us chase; but, it being just at the shutting in of -the day, we soon lost sight of them, and standing to the north, across -the Bay of Mexico, as if we were going to the mouth of Mississippi, -they lost us quite, and in a few days more we made the bottom of the -bay, being the port we were bound for. - -We stood in as usual in the night, and gave notice to our friends; but -instead of their former readiness to come on board, they gave us -notice that we had been seen in the bay, and that notice of us was -given at Vera Cruz and at other places, and that several frigates were -in quest of us, and that three more would be cruising the next morning -in search for us. We could not conceive how this could be; but we were -afterwards told that those three frigates, having lost sight of us in -the night, had made in for the shore, and had given the alarm of us as -of privateers. - -Be that as it would, we had nothing to do but to consider what course -to take immediately. The Spanish merchant's advice was very good if we -had taken it, namely, to have unladen as many of our bales as we could -that very night by the help of our boat and their canoes, and to make -the best of our way in the morning to the north of the gulf, and take -our fate. - -This my skipper or master thought very well of, but when we began to -put it into execution, we were so confused and in such a hurry, being -not resolved what course to take, that we could not get out above -sixteen bales of all sorts of goods before it began to be too light -and it behoved us to sail. At last the master proposed a medium, which -was, that I should go on shore in the next boat, in which were five -bales of goods more, and that I should stay on shore if the Spanish -merchants would undertake to conceal me, and let them go to sea and -take their chance. - -The Spanish merchants readily undertook to protect me, especially it -being so easy to have me pass for a natural Spaniard, and so they took -me on shore with twenty-one bales of my goods, and the sloop stood off -to sea. If they met with any enemies they were to stand in for the -shore the next night; and we failed not to look well out for them, but -to no purpose, for the next day they were discovered and chased by two -Spanish frigates. They stood from them, and the sloop, being an -excellent sailer, gained so much that they would certainly have been -clear of them when night came on, but a small picaroon of a sloop kept -them company in spite of all they could do, and two or three times -offered to engage them, thereby to give time to the rest to come up; -but the sloop kept her way, and gave them a chase of three days and -nights, having a fresh gale of wind at S.W., till she made the Rio -Grand, or, as the French call it, the Mississippi, and there finding -no remedy, they ran the vessel on shore not far from the fort which -the Spaniards call Pensacola, garrisoned at that time with French. Our -men would have entered the river as a port, but having no pilot, and -the current of the river being strong against them, the sloop ran on -shore, and the men shifted as well as they could in their boats. - -I was now in a very odd condition indeed. My circumstances were in one -sense, indeed, very happy--namely, that I was in the hands of my -friends, for such really they were, and so faithful that no men could -have been more careful of their own safety than were they of mine; and -that which added to the comfort of my new condition was the produce of -my goods, which were gotten on shore by their own advice and -direction, which was a fund sufficient to maintain me with them as -long as I could be supposed to stay there; and if not, the first -merchant to whose house I went assured me that he would give me credit -for twenty thousand pieces of eight if I had occasion for it. - -My greatest affliction was, that I knew not how to convey news to my -wife of my present condition, and how, among many misfortunes of the -voyage, I was yet safe and in good hands. - -But there was no remedy for this part but the great universal cure of -all incurable sorrows, viz., patience; and, indeed, I had a great deal -of reason, not for patience only, but thankfulness, if I had known the -circumstances which I should have been reduced to if I had fallen into -the hands of the Spaniards; the best of which that I could reasonably -have expected had been to have been sent to the mines, or, which was -ten thousand times worse, the Inquisition; or, if I had escaped the -Spaniards, as my men in the sloop did, the hardships they were exposed -to, the dangers they were in, and the miseries they suffered were -still worse in wandering among savages, and the more savage French, -who plundered and stripped them, instead of relieving and supplying -them in their long wilderness journey over the mountains till they -reached the S.W. parts of South Carolina, a journey which, indeed, -deserves to have an account to be given of it by itself. I say, all -these things, had I known of them, would have let me see that I had a -great deal of reason, not only to be patient under my present -circumstances, but satisfied and thankful. - -Here, as I said, my patron, the merchant, entertained me like a -prince; he made my safety his peculiar care, and while we were in any -expectation of the sloop being taken and brought into Vera Cruz, he -kept me retired at a little house in a wood, where he kept a fine -aviary of all sorts of American birds, and out of which he yearly sent -some as presents to his friends in Old Spain. - -This retreat was necessary lest, if the sloop should be taken and -brought into Vera Cruz, and the men be brought in prisoners, they -should be tempted to give an account of me as their supercargo or -merchant, and where both I and the twenty-one bales of goods were set -on shore. As for the goods, he made sure work with them, for they were -all opened, taken out of the bales, and separated, and, being mixed -with other European goods which came by the galleons, were made up in -new package, and sent to Mexico in several parcels, some to one -merchant, some to another, so that it was impossible to have found -them out, even if they had had information of them. - -In this posture, and in apprehension of some bad news of the sloop, -I remained at the villa, or house in the vale--for so they called -it--about five weeks. I had two negroes appointed to wait on me, one -of which was my purveyor, or my cook, the other my valet; and my -friend, the master of all, came constantly every evening to visit and -sup with me, when we walked out together into the aviary, which was, -of its kind, the most beautiful thing that ever I saw in the world. - -After above five weeks' retreat of this kind, he had good intelligence -of the fate of the sloop, viz., that the two frigates and a sloop had -chased her till she ran on ground near the fort of Pensacola; that -they saw her stranded and broke in pieces by the force of the waves, -the men making their escape in their boat. This news was brought, it -seems, by the said frigates to La Vera Cruz, where my friend went on -purpose to be fully informed, and received the account from one of the -captains of the frigates, and discoursed with him at large about it. - -I was better pleased with the loss of the sloop and all my cargo, the -men being got on shore and escaping, than I should have been with the -saving the whole cargo, if the men had fallen into the hands of the -Spaniards; for now I was safe, whereas then, it being supposed they -would have been forced to some discovery about me, I must have fled, -and should have found it very difficult to have made my escape, even -with all that my friends could have done for me too. - -But now I was perfectly easy, and my friend, who thought confining me -at the house in the vale no longer needful, brought me publicly home -to his dwelling-house, as a merchant come from Old Spain by the last -galleons, and who, having been at Mexico, was come to reside with him. - -Here I was dressed like a Spaniard of the better sort, had three -negroes to attend me, and was called Don Ferdinand de Villa Moresa, in -Castilia Feja--that is to say, in Old Castile. - -Here I had nothing to do but to walk about and ride out into the -woods, and come home again to enjoy the pleasantest and most agreeable -retirement in the world; for certainly no men in the world live in -such splendour and wallow in such immense treasures as the merchants -of this place. - -They live, as I have said, in a kind of country retreat at their -villas, or, as we would call them in Virginia, their plantations, and, -as they do call them, their _ingenios_, where they make their indigo -and their sugars. But they have also houses and warehouses at Vera -Cruz, where they go twice a year, when the galleons arrive from Old -Spain, and when those galleons relade for their return. And it was -surprising to me, when I went to La Vera Cruz with them, to see what -prodigious consignments they had from their correspondents in Old -Spain, and with what despatch they managed them; for no sooner were -the cases, packs, and bales of European goods brought into their -warehouses but they were opened and repacked by porters and packers of -their own--that is to say, negroes and Indian servants--and being made -up into new bales and separate parcels, were all despatched again by -horses for Mexico, and directed to their several merchants there, and -the remainder carried home, as above, to the _ingenio_ where they -lived, which was near thirty English miles from Vera Cruz, so that in -about twenty days their warehouses were again entirely free. At La -Vera Cruz, all their business was over there, and they and all their -servants retired; for they stayed no longer there than needs must, -because of the unhealthiness of the air. - -After the goods were thus despatched, it was equally surprising to see -how soon, and with what exactness, the merchants of Mexico to whom -those cargoes were separately consigned made the return, and how it -came all in silver or in gold, so that their warehouses in a few -months were piled up, even to the ceiling, with chests of pieces of -eight and with bars of silver. - -It is impossible to describe in the narrow compass of this work with -what exactness and order, and yet with how little hurry, and not the -least confusion, everything was done, and how soon a weight of -business of such importance and value was negotiated and finished, the -goods repacked, invoices made, and everything despatched and gone; so -that in about five weeks all the goods they had received from Europe -by the galleons were disposed of and entered in their journals to the -proper account of their merchant to whom they were respectively -consigned; from thence they had book-keepers who drew out the invoices -and wrote the letters, which the merchant himself only read over and -signed, and then other hands copied all again into other books. - -I can give no estimate of the value of the several consignments they -received by that flota; but I remember that, when the galleons went -back, they shipped on board, at several times, one million three -hundred thousand pieces of eight in specie, besides a hundred and -eighty bales or bags of cochineal and about three hundred bales of -indigo; but they were so modest that they said this was for themselves -and their friends. That is to say, the several merchants of Mexico -consigned large quantities of bullion to them, to ship on board and -consign according to their order; but then I know also that, for all -that, they were allowed commission, so that their gain was very -considerable even that way also. - -I had been with them at La Vera Cruz, and came back again before we -came to an account for the goods which I had brought on shore in the -twenty-one bales, which, by the account we brought them to (leaving a -piece of everything to be governed by our last market), amounted to -eight thousand five hundred and seventy pieces of eight, all which -money my friend--for so I must now call him--brought me in specie, and -caused his negroes to pile them up in one corner of my apartment; so -that I was indeed still very rich, all things considered. - -There was a bale which I had caused to be packed up on purpose in -Virginia, and which indeed I had written for from England, being -chiefly of fine English broadcloths, silk, silk druggets, and fine -stuffs of several kinds, with some very fine hollands, which I set -apart for presents, as I should find occasion; and as, whatever hurry -I was in at carrying the twenty-one bales of goods on shore, I did not -forget to let this bale be one of them, so, when we came to a sale for -the rest, I told them that this was a pack with clothes and -necessaries for my own wearing and use, and so desired it might not be -opened with the rest, which was accordingly observed, and that bale or -pack was brought into my apartment. - -This bale was, in general, made up of several smaller bales, which I -had directed, so that I might have room to make presents, equally -sorted as the circumstance might direct me. However, they were all -considerable, and I reckoned the whole bale cost me near 200 sterling -in England; and though my present circumstances required some limits -to my bounty in making presents, yet the obligation I was under being -so much the greater, especially to this one friendly, generous -Spaniard, I thought I could not do better than, by opening two of the -smaller bales, join them together, and make my gift some thing -suitable to the benefactor, and to the respect he had shown me. -Accordingly, I took two bales, and, laying the goods together, the -contents were as follows:-- - - -Two pieces of fine English broadcloth, the finest that could be got in -London, divided, as was that which I gave to the governor at the -Havannah, into fine crimson in grain, fine light mixtures, and fine -black. - -Four pieces of fine holland, of 7s. to 8s. per ell in London. - -Twelve pieces of fine silk drugget and duroys, for men's wear. - -Six pieces of broad silks, two damasks, two brocaded silks, and two -mantuas. - -With a box of ribands and a box of lace; the last cost about 40 -sterling in England. - - -This handsome parcel I laid open in my apartment, and brought him -upstairs one morning, on pretence to drink chocolate with me, which he -ordinarily did; when, as we drank chocolate and was merry, I said to -him, though I had sold him almost all my cargo and taken his money, -yet the truth was, that I ought not to have sold them to him, but to -have laid them all at his feet, for that it was to his direction I -owed the having anything saved at all. - -He smiled, and, with a great deal of friendship in his face, told me -that not to have paid me for them would have been to have plundered a -shipwreck, which had been worse than to have robbed an hospital. - -At last I told him I had two requests to make to him, which must not -be denied. I told him I had a small present to make him, which I would -give him a reason why he should not refuse to accept; and the second -request I would make after the first was granted. He said he would -have accepted my present from me if I had not been under a disaster, -but as it was it would be cruel and ungenerous. But I told him he was -obliged to hear my reason for his accepting it. Then I told him that -this parcel was made up for him by name by my wife and I in Virginia, -and his name set on the marks of the bale, and accordingly I showed -him the marks, which was indeed on one of the bales, but I had doubled -it now, as above, so that I told him these were his own proper goods; -and, in short, I pressed him so to receive them that he made a bow; -and I said no more, but ordered my negro, that is to say, his negro -that waited on me, to carry them all, except the two boxes, into his -apartments, but would not let him see the particulars till they were -all carried away. - -After he was gone about a quarter of an hour, he came in raving and -almost swearing, and in a great passion, but I could easily see he was -exceedingly pleased; and told me, had he known the particulars, he -would never have suffered them to have gone as he did, and at last -used the very same compliment that the governor at the Havannah used, -viz., that it was a present fit for a viceroy of Mexico rather than -for him. - -When he had done, he then told me he remembered I had two requests to -him, and that one was not to be told till after the first was granted, -and he hoped now I had something to ask of him that was equal to the -obligation I laid upon him. - -I told him I knew it was not the custom in Spain for a stranger to -make presents to the ladies, and that I would not in the least doubt -but that, what ever the ladies of his family required as proper for -their use, he would appropriate to them as he thought fit; but that -there were two little boxes in the parcel which my wife with her own -hand had directed to the ladies; and I begged he would be pleased with -his own hand to give them in my wife's name, as directed; that I was -only the messenger, but that I could not be honest if I did not -discharge myself of the trust reposed in me. - -These were the two boxes of ribands and lace, which, knowing the -nicety of the ladies in Spain, or rather of the Spaniards about their -women, I had made my wife pack up, and directed with her own hand, as -I have said. - -He smiled, and told me it was true the Spaniards did not ordinarily -admit so much freedom among the women as other nations; but he hoped, -he said, I would not think the Spaniards thought all their women -whores, or that all Spaniards were jealous of their wives; that, as to -my present, since he had agreed to accept of it, I should have the -direction of what part I pleased to his wife and daughters; for he had -three daughters. - -Here I strained courtesies again, and told him by no means; I would -direct nothing of that kind. I only begged that he would with his own -hand present to his donna, or lady, the present designed her by my -wife, and that he would present it in her name, now living in -Virginia. He was extremely pleased with the nicety I used; and I saw -him present it to her accordingly, and could see, at the opening of -it, that she was extremely pleased with the present itself, as indeed -might very well be, for in that country it was worth a very -considerable sum of money. - -Though I was used with an uncommon friendship before, and nothing -could well be desired more, yet the grateful sense I showed of it in -the magnificence of this present was not lost, and the whole family -appeared sensible of it; so that I must allow that presents, where -they can be made in such a manner, are not without their influence, -where the persons were not at all mercenary either before or after. - -I had here now a most happy and comfortable retreat, though it was a -kind of an exile. Here I enjoyed everything I could think of that was -agreeable and pleasant, except only a liberty of going home, which, -for that reason perhaps, was the only thing I desired in the world; -for the grief of one absent comfort is oftentimes capable of -embittering all the other enjoyments in the world. - -Here I enjoyed the moments which I had never before known how to -employ--I mean that here I learned to look back upon a long ill-spent -life, blessed with infinite advantage, which I had no heart given me -till now to make use of, and here I found just reflections were the -utmost felicity of human life. - -Here I wrote these memoirs, having to add to the pleasure of looking -back with due reflections the benefit of a violent fit of the gout, -which, as it is allowed by most people, clears the head, restores the -memory, and qualifies us to make the most, and just, and useful -remarks upon our own actions. - -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 has caused it to be. If any one that reads my story pleases -to make the same just reflections which I acknowledge I ought to have -made, he will reap the benefit of my misfortunes perhaps more than I -have done myself. 'Tis 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 lives may be many ways made -useful and instructing to those who read them, if moral and religious -improvement and reflections are made by those that write them. - -There remains many things in the course of this unhappy life of mine, -though I have left so little a part of it to speak of, that is worth -giving a large and distinct account of, and which gives room for just -reflections of a kind which I have not made yet. Particularly, I think -it just to add how, in collecting the various changes and turns in my -affairs, I saw clearer than ever I had done before how an invincible -overruling Power, a hand influenced from above, governs all our -actions of every kind, limits all our designs, and orders the events -of everything relating to us. - -And from this observation it necessarily occurred to me how just it -was that we should pay the homage of all events to Him; that as He -guided, and had even made the chain of cause and consequences, which -nature in general strictly obeyed, so to Him should be given the -honour of all events, the consequences of those causes, as the first -Mover and Maker of all things. - -I, who had hitherto lived, as might be truly said, without God in the -world, began now to see farther into all those things than I had ever -yet been capable of before, and this brought me at last to look with -shame and blushes upon such a course of wickedness as I had gone -through in the world. I had been bred, indeed, to nothing of either -religious or moral knowledge. What I gained of either was, first, by -the little time of civil life which I lived in Scotland, where my -abhorrence of the wickedness of my captain and comrade, and some -sober, religious company I fell into, first gave me some knowledge of -good and evil, and showed me the beauty of a sober, religious life, -though, with my leaving that country, it soon left me too; or, -secondly, the modest hints and just reflections of my steward, whom I -called my tutor, who was a man of sincere religion, good principles, -and a real, true penitent for his past miscarriages. Oh! had I with -him sincerely repented of what was past, I had not for twenty-four -years together lived a life of levity and profligate wickedness after -it. - -But here I had, as I said, leisure to reflect and to repent, to call -to mind things past, and, with a just detestation, learn, as Job says, -to abhor myself in dust and ashes. - -It is with this temper that I have written my story. I would have all -that design to read it prepare to do so with the temper of penitents, -and remember with how much advantage they may make their penitent -reflections at home, under the merciful dispositions of Providence, in -peace, plenty, and ease, rather than abroad, under the discipline of a -transported criminal, as my wife and my tutor, or under the miseries -and distresses of a shipwrecked wanderer, as my skipper or captain of -the sloop, who, as I hear, died a very great penitent, labouring in -the deserts and mountains to find his way home to Virginia, by the way -of Carolina, whither the rest of the crew reached after infinite -dangers and hardships; or in exile, however favourably circumstanced, -as mine, in absence from my family, and for some time in no probable -view of ever seeing them any more. - -Such, I say, may repent with advantage; but how few are they that -seriously look in till their way is hedged up and they have no other -way to look! - -Here, I say, I had leisure to repent. How far it pleases God to give -the grace of repentance where He gives the opportunity of it is not -for me to say of myself. It is sufficient that I recommend it to all -that read this story, that, when they find their lives come up in any -degree to any similitude of cases, they will inquire by me, and ask -themselves, Is not this the time to repent? Perhaps the answer may -touch them. - -I have only to add to what was then written, that my kind friends the -Spaniards, finding no other method presented for conveying me to my -home--that is to say, to Virginia--got a license for me to come in the -next galleons, as a Spanish merchant, to Cadiz, where I arrived safe -with all my treasure; for he suffered me to be at no expenses in his -house; and from Cadiz I soon got my passage on board an English -merchantship for London, from whence I sent an account of my -adventures to my wife, and where, in about five months more, she came -over to me, leaving with full satisfaction the management of all our -affairs in Virginia in the same faithful hands as before. - - - -END OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL JACQUE - - - - - - -THE TRUE-BORN ENGLISHMAN - - - - -AN EXPLANATORY PREFACE - - -It is not that I see any reason to alter my opinion in anything I have -written which occasions this epistle, but I find it necessary, for the -satisfaction of some persons of honour as well as wit, to pass a short -explication upon it, and tell the world what I mean, or rather what I -do not mean, in some things wherein I find I am liable to be -misunderstood. - -I confess myself something surprised to hear that I am taxed with -bewraying my own nest and abusing our nation by discovering the -meanness of our original, in order to make the English contemptible -abroad and at home; in which I think they are mistaken. For why should -not our neighbours be as good as we to derive from? And I must add -that, had we been an unmixed nation, I am of opinion it had been to -our disadvantage. For, to go no further, we have three nations about -us as clear from mixtures of blood as any in the world, and I know not -which of them I could wish ourselves to be like--I mean the Scots, the -Welsh, and Irish; and if I were to write a reverse to the satire, I -would examine all the nations of Europe, and prove that those nations -which are most mixed are the best, and have least of barbarism and -brutality among them; and abundance of reasons might be given for it, -too long to bring into a preface. - -But I give this hint to let the world know that I am far from thinking -it is a satire upon the English nation to tell them they are derived -from all the nations under heaven--that is, from several nations. Nor -is it meant to undervalue the original of the English, for we see no -reason to like them the worse, being the relics of Nomans, Danes, -Saxons, and Normans, than we should have done if they had remained -Britons; that is, than if they had been all Welshmen. - -But the intent of the satire is pointed at the vanity of those who -talk of their antiquity and value themselves upon their pedigree, -their ancient families, and being true-born; whereas it is impossible -we should be true-born, and if we could, should have lost by the -bargain. - -Those sort of people who call themselves true-born and tell long -stories of their families, and, like a nobleman of Venice, think a -foreigner ought not to walk on the same side of the street with them, -are owned to be meant in this satire. What they would infer from their -own original I know not, nor is it easy to make out whether they are -the better or the worse for their ancestors. Our English nation may -value themselves for their wit, wealth, and courage, and I believe -few will dispute it with them; but for long originals and ancient -true-born families of English, I would advise them to waive the -discourse. A true Englishman is one that deserves a character, and I -have nowhere lessened him that I know of; but as for a true-born -Englishman, I confess I do not understand him. - -From hence I only infer that an Englishman, of all men, ought not to -despise foreigners as such, and I think the inference is just, since -what they are to-day we were yesterday, and to-morrow they will be -like us. If foreigners misbehave in their several stations and -employments, I have nothing to do with that; the laws are open to -punish them equally with natives, and let them have no favour. - -But when I see the town full of lampoons and invectives against -Dutchmen only because they are foreigners, and the King reproached and -insulted by insolent pedants and ballad-making poets for employing -foreigners, and for being a foreigner himself, I confess myself moved -by it to remind our nation of their own original, thereby to let them -see what a banter is put upon ourselves in it, since, speaking of -Englishmen _ab origine_, we are really foreigners ourselves. - -I could go on to prove it is also impolitic in us to discourage -foreigners, since it is easy to make it appear that the multitudes of -foreign nations who have taken sanctuary here have been the greatest -additions to the wealth and strength of the nation, the great -essential whereof is the number of its in habitants. Nor would this -nation have ever arrived to the degree of wealth and glory it now -boasts of if the addition of foreign nations, both as to manufactures -and arms, had not been helpful to it. This is so plain that he who is -ignorant of it is too dull to be talked with. - -The satire, therefore, I must allow to be just till I am otherwise -convinced, because nothing can be more ridiculous than to hear our -people boast of that antiquity which, if it had been true, would have -left us in so much worse a condition than we are in now; whereas we -ought rather to boast among our neighbours that we are a part of -themselves, or the same original as they, but bettered by our climate, -and, like our language and manufactures, derived from them and -improved by us to a perfection greater than they can pretend to. - -This we might have valued ourselves upon without vanity; but to disown -our descent from them, talking big of our ancient families and long -originals, and stand at a distance from foreigners, like the -enthusiast in religion, with a "Stand off; I am more holy than -thou!"--this is a thing so ridiculous in a nation, derived from -foreigners as we are, that I could not but attack them as I have done. - -And whereas I am threatened to be called to a public account for this -freedom, and the publisher of this has been new-papered in gaol -already for it, though I see nothing in it for which the Government -can be displeased, yet if at the same time those people who, with an -unlimited arrogance in print, every day affront the King, prescribe -the Parliament, and lampoon the Government may be either punished or -restrained, I am content to stand and fall with the public justice of -my native country which I am not sensible I have anywhere injured. - -Nor would I be misunderstood concerning the clergy, with whom, if I -have taken any license more than becomes a satire, I question not but -those gentlemen, who are men of letters, are also men of so much -candour as to allow me a loose at the crimes of the guilty without -thinking the whole profession lashed, who are innocent. I profess to -have very mean thoughts of those gentlemen who have deserted their own -principles, and exposed even their morals as well as loyalty, but not -at all to think it affects any but such as are concerned in the fact. - -Nor would I be misrepresented as to the ingratitude of the English to -the King and his friends, as if I meant the English as a nation are -so. The contrary is so apparent, that I would hope it should not be -suggested of me; and, therefore, when I have brought in Britannia -speaking of the King, I suppose her to be the representative or mouth -of the nation as a body. But if I say we are full of such who daily -affront the King and abuse his friends, who print scurrilous -pamphlets, virulent lampoons, and reproachful public banter against -both the King's person and Government, I say nothing but what is too -true. And that the satire is directed at such I freely own, and cannot -say but I should think it very hard to be censured for this satire -while such remain unquestioned and tacitly approved. That I can mean -none but such is plain from these few lines:-- - - - "Ye Heavens, regard! Almighty Jove, look down, - And view thy injured monarch on the throne. - On their ungrateful heads due vengeance take - Who sought his aid and then his part forsake." - - -If I have fallen upon our vices, I hope none but the vicious will be -angry. As for writing for interest, I disown it. I have neither place, -nor pension, nor prospect; nor seek none, nor will have none. If -matter of fact justifies the truth of the crimes, the satire is just. -As to the poetic liberties, I hope the crime is pardonable. I am -content to be stoned provided none will attack me but the innocent. - -If my countrymen would take the hint and grow better-natured from my -ill-natured poem, as some call it, I would say this of it, that though -it is far from the best satire that ever was written, it would do the -most good that ever satire did. - -And yet I am ready to ask pardon of some gentlemen too, who, though -they are Englishmen, have good-nature enough to see themselves -reproved, and can bear it. Those are gentlemen in a true sense that -can bear to be told of their _faux pas_ and not abuse the reprover. To -such I must say this is no satire; they are exceptions to the general -rule; and I value my performance from their generous approbation more -than I can from any opinion I have of its worth. - -The hasty errors of my verse I made my excuse for before; and since -the time I have been upon it has been but little, and my leisure less, -I have all along strove rather to make the thoughts explicit than the -poem correct. However, I have mended some faults in this edition, and -the rest must be placed to my account. - -As to answers, banters, true English Billingsgate, I expect them -till nobody will buy, and then the shop will be shut. Had I wrote it -for the gain of the press, I should have been concerned at its -being printed again and again by pirates, as they call them, and -paragraph-men; but would they but do it justice and print it true -according to the copy, they are welcome to sell it for a penny if they -please. - -The pence indeed is the end of their works. I will engage, if nobody -will buy, nobody will write. And not a patriot-poet of them all now -will, in defence of his native country--which I have abused, they -say--print an answer to it, and give it about for God's sake. - - - - -THE PREFACE - - -The end of satire is reformation; and the author, though he doubts the -work of conversion is at a general stop, has put his hand to the -plough. - -I expect a storm of ill language from the fury of the town, and -especially from those whose English talent it is to rail. And without -being taken for a conjuror, I may venture to foretell that I shall be -cavilled at about my mean style, rough verse, and incorrect language; -things I might indeed have taken more care in, but the book is -printed; and though I see some faults, it is too late to mend them. -And this is all I think needful to say to them. - -Possibly somebody may take me for a Dutchman, in which they are -mistaken. But I am one that would be glad to see Englishmen behave -themselves better to strangers and to governors also, that one might -not be reproached in foreign countries for belonging to a nation that -wants manners. - -I assure you, gentlemen, strangers use us better abroad; and we can -give no reason but our ill-nature for the contrary here. - -Methinks an Englishman, who is so proud of being called a good fellow, -should be civil; and it cannot be denied but we are in many cases, and -particularly to strangers, the churlishest people alive. - -As to vices, who can dispute our intemperance, while an honest drunken -fellow is a character in a man's praise? All our reformations are -banters, and will be so till our magistrates and gentry reform -themselves by way of example. Then, and not till then, they may be -expected to punish others without blushing. - -As to our ingratitude, I desire to be understood of that particular -people who, pretending to be Protestants, have all along endeavoured -to reduce the liberties and religion of this nation into the hands of -King James and his Popish Powers; together with such who enjoy the -peace and protection of the present Government, and yet abuse and -affront the King, who procured it, and openly profess their uneasiness -under him. These, by whatsoever names or titles they are dignified or -distinguished, are the people aimed at; nor do I disown but that it is -so much the temper of an Englishman to abuse his benefactor that I -could be glad to see it rectified. - -Those who think I have been guilty of any error in exposing the crimes -of my own countrymen to themselves may, among many honest instances of -the like nature, find the same thing in Mr. Cowley, in his imitation -of the second Olympic ode of Pindar. His words are these-- - - - "But in this thankless world the givers - Are envied even by the receivers: - 'Tis now the cheap and frugal fashion - Rather to hide than pay an obligation. - Nay, 'tis much worse than so; - It now an artifice doth grow - Wrongs and outrages to do, - Lest men should think we owe." - - - - -THE INTRODUCTION - - - Speak, Satire; for there's none can tell like thee - Whether 'tis folly, pride, or knavery - That makes this discontented land appear - Less happy now in times of peace than war? - Why civil feuds disturb the nation more - Than all our bloody wars have done before? - Fools out of favour grudge at knaves in place - And men are always honest in disgrace: - The Court preferments make men knaves in course; - But they which would be in them would be worse. - 'Tis not at foreigners that we repine, - Would foreigners their perquisites resign: - The grand contention 's plainly to be seen, - To get some men put out, and some put in. - For this our Senators make long harangues, - And florid Members whet their polished tongues. - Statesmen are always sick of one disease, - And a good pension gives them present ease: - That's the specific makes them all content - With any King and any Government. - Good patriots at Court abuses rail, - And all the nation's grievances bewail; - But when the sovereign balsam's once applied, - The zealot never fails to change his side; - And when he must the golden key resign, - The railing spirit comes about again. - Who shall this bubbled nation disabuse, - While they their own felicities refuse, - Who at the wars have made such mighty pother, - And now are falling out with one another: - With needless fears the jealous nation fill, - And always have been saved against their will: - Who fifty millions sterling have disbursed, - To be with peace and too much plenty cursed: - Who their old monarch eagerly undo, - And yet uneasily obey the new? - Search, Satire, search: a deep incision make; - The poison's strong, the antidote's too weak. - 'Tis pointed Truth must manage this dispute, - And downright English, Englishmen confute. - Whet thy just anger at the nation's pride, - And with keen phrase repel the vicious tide; - To Englishmen their own beginnings show, - And ask them why they slight their neighbours so. - Go back to elder times and ages past, - And nations into long oblivion cast; - To old Britannia's youthful days retire, - And there for true-born Englishmen inquire. - Britannia freely will disown the name, - And hardly knows herself from whence they came - Wonders that they of all men should pretend - To birth and blood, and for a name contend. - Go back to causes where our follies dwell, | - And fetch the dark original from hell: > - Speak, Satire, for there's none like thee can tell. | - - - - - - -THE -TRUE-BORN ENGLISHMAN - - - - -PART I - - - Wherever God erects a house of prayer, - The Devil always builds a chapel there:[11] - And 'twill be found upon examination, - The latter has the largest congregation: - For ever since he first debauched the mind, - He made a perfect conquest of mankind. - With uniformity of service, he - Reigns with a general aristocracy. - No non-conforming sects disturb his reign, - For of his yoke there's very few complain. - He knows the genius and the inclination, - And matches proper sins for every nation, - He needs no standing-army government; - He always rules us by our own consent: - His laws are easy, and his gentle sway - Makes it exceeding pleasant to obey: - The list of his vicegerents and commanders, - Outdoes your Csars or your Alexanders. - They never fail of his infernal aid, - And he's as certain ne'er to be betrayed. - Through all the world they spread his vast command, - And Death's eternal empire is maintained. - They rule so politicly and so well, - As if they were Lords Justices of Hell, - Duly divided to debauch mankind, - And plant infernal dictates in his mind. - Pride, the first peer, and president of Hell, - To his share Spain, the largest province, fell. - The subtile Prince thought fittest to bestow - On these the golden mines of Mexico, - With all the silver mountains of Peru, - Wealth which would in wise hands the world undo: - Because he knew their genius was such, - Too lazy and too haughty to be rich. - So proud a people, so above their fate, - That if reduced to beg, they'll beg in state; - Lavish of money to be counted brave, - And proudly starve because they scorn to save. - Never was nation in the world before - So very rich and yet so very poor. - Lust chose the torrid zone of Italy, - Where blood ferments in rapes and sodomy: - Where swelling veins overflow with liquid streams, - With heat impregnate from Vesuvian flames: - Whose flowing sulphur forms infernal lakes, - And human body of the soil partakes. - Their nature ever burns with hot desires, - Fanned with luxuriant air from subterranean fires; - Here, undisturbed in floods of scalding lust, - The Infernal King reigns with infernal gust. - Drunkenness, the darling favourite of Hell, - Chose Germany to rule; and rules so well, - No subjects more obsequiously obey, - None please so well or are so pleased as they. - The cunning artist manages so well, - He lets them bow to Heaven and drink to Hell. - If but to wine and him they homage pay, | - He cares not to what deity they pray, > - What God they worship most, or in what way. | - Whether by Luther, Calvin, or by Rome - They sail for Heaven, by Wine he steers them home. - Ungoverned Passion settled first in France, - Where mankind lives in haste and thrives by chance; - A dancing nation, fickle and untrue, - Have oft undone themselves and others too; - Prompt the infernal dictates to obey, - And in Hell's favour none more great than they. - The Pagan world he blindly leads away, - And personally rules with arbitrary sway; - The mask thrown off, plain Devil his title stands, - And what elsewhere he tempts he there commands. - There with full gust the ambition of his mind - Governs, as he of old in Heaven designed. - Worshipped as God, his Paynim altars smoke, - Embrued with blood of those that him invoke. - The rest by Deputies he rules as well, - And plants the distant colonies of Hell. - By them his secret power he maintains, - And binds the world in his infernal chains. - By Zeal the Irish, and the Russ by Folly - Fury the Dane, the Swede by Melancholy; - By stupid Ignorance the Muscovite; - The Chinese by a child of Hell called Wit - Wealth makes the Persian too effeminate, - And Poverty the Tartars desperate; - The Turks and Moors by Mah'met he subdues, - And God has given him leave to rule the Jews. - Rage rules the Portuguese and Fraud the Scotch, - Revenge the Pole and Avarice the Dutch. - Satire, be kind, and draw a silent veil - Thy native England's vices to conceal; - Or, if that task's impossible to do, | - At least be just and show her virtues too-- > - Too great the first; alas, the last too few! | - England, unknown as yet, unpeopled lay; | - Happy had she remained so to this day, > - And not to every nation been a prey. | - Her open harbours and her fertile plains - (The merchant's glory those, and these the swain's) - To every barbarous nation have betrayed her, - Who conquer her as oft as they invade her; - So beauty's guarded but by innocence, - That ruins her, which should be her defence. - Ingratitude, a devil of black renown, - Possessed her very early for his own. - An ugly, surly, sullen, selfish spirit, - Who Satan's worst perfections does inherit; - Second to him in malice and in force, - All devil without, and all within him worse. - He made her first-born race to be so rude, - And suffered her so oft to be subdued; - By several crowds of wandering thieves o'errun, - Often unpeopled, and as oft undone; - While every nation that her powers reduced - Their languages and manners introduced. - From whose mixed relics our compounded breed - By spurious generation does succeed, - Making a race uncertain and uneven, - Derived from all the nations under Heaven. - The Romans first with Julius Csar came, - Including all the nations of that name, - Gauls, Greeks, and Lombards, and, by computation - Auxiliaries or slaves of every nation. - With Hengist, Saxons; Danes with Sueno came, - In search of plunder, not in search of fame. - Scots, Picts, and Irish from the Hibernian shore, - And conquering William brought the Normans o'er. - All these their barbarous offspring left behind, - The dregs of armies, they of all mankind; - Blended with Britons, who before were here, - Of whom the Welsh ha' blessed the character. - From this amphibious ill-born mob began - That vain, ill-natured thing, an Englishman. - The customs, surnames, languages, and manners - Of all these nations are their own explainers: - Whose relics are so lasting and so strong, - They ha' left a shibboleth upon our tongue, - By which with easy search you may distinguish - Your Roman-Saxon-Danish Norman English. - The great invading Norman[12] let us know - What conquerors in after times might do. - To every musketeer[13] he brought to town, - He gave the lands which never were his own. - When first the English crown he did obtain, - He did not send his Dutchmen back again. - No reassumptions in his reign were known, - D'Avenant might there ha' let his book alone. - No Parliament his army could disband; - He raised no money, for he paid in land. - He gave his legions their eternal station, - And made them all freeholders of the nation. - He cantoned out the country to his men, - And every soldier was a denizen. - The rascals thus enriched, he called them lords, | - To please their upstart pride with new-made words, > - And Doomsday Book his tyranny records. | - And here begins our ancient pedigree, - That so exalts our poor nobility: - 'Tis that from some French trooper they derive, - Who with the Norman bastard did arrive; - The trophies of the families appear, | - Some show the sword, the bow, and some the spear, > - Which their great ancestor, forsooth, did wear. | - These in the herald's register remain, - Their noble mean extraction to explain, - Yet who the hero was, no man can tell, - Whether a drummer or a colonel: - The silent record blushes to reveal - Their undescended dark original. - But grant the best, how came the change to pass, - A true-born Englishman of Norman race? - A Turkish horse can show more history - To prove his well-descended family. - Conquest, as by the moderns[14] 'tis expressed, - May give a title to the lands possessed: - But that the longest sword should be so civil - To make a Frenchman English, that's the devil. - These are the heroes that despise the Dutch, - And rail at new-come foreigners so much, - Forgetting that themselves are all derived - From the most scoundrel race that ever lived; - A horrid crowd of rambling thieves and drones, - Who ransacked kingdoms and dispeopled towns, - The Pict and painted Briton, treacherous Scot, - By hunger, theft, and rapine hither brought; - Norwegian pirates, buccaneering Danes, - Whose red-haired offspring everywhere remains, - Who, joined with Norman-French, compound the breed - From whence your true-born Englishmen proceed. - And lest by length of time it be pretended - The climate may this modern breed ha' mended, - Wise Providence, to keep us where we are, - Mixes us daily with exceeding care. - We have been Europe's sink, the jakes where she - Voids all her offal outcast progeny. - From the eighth Henry's time, the strolling bands - Of banished fugitives from neighbouring lands - Have here a certain sanctuary found: - The eternal refuge of the vagabond, - Where, in but half a common age of time, - Borrowing new blood and manners from the clime, - Proudly they learn all mankind to contemn, - And all their race are true-born Englishmen. - Dutch, Walloons, Flemings, Irishmen, and Scots, - Vaudois and Valtelins, and Hugonots, - In good Queen Bess's charitable reign, - Supplied us with three hundred thousand men. - Religion--God, we thank Thee!--sent them hither - Priests, Protestants, the Devil and all together: - Of all professions and of every trade, - All that were persecuted or afraid; - Whether for debt or other crimes they fled, - David at Hachilah was still their head. - The offspring of this miscellaneous crowd - Had not their new plantations long enjoyed, - But they grew Englishmen, and raised their votes - At foreign shoals for interloping Scots. - The royal branch[15] from Pictland did succeed, - With troops of Scots and Scabs from North-by-Tweed. - The seven first years of his pacific reign - Made him and half his nation Englishmen. - Scots from the northern frozen banks of Tay, - With packs and plods came whigging all away: - Thick as the locusts which in Egypt swarmed, - With pride and hungry hopes completely armed; - With native truth, diseases, and no money, - Plundered our Canaan of the milk and honey. - Here they grew quickly lords and gentlemen, - And all their race are true-born Englishmen. - The civil wars, the common purgative, - Which always use to make the nation thrive, - Made way for all that strolling congregation - Which thronged in Pious Charles's restoration.[16] - The royal refugee our breed restores, - With foreign courtiers and with foreign whores, - And carefully repeopled us again, - Throughout his lazy, long, lascivious reign, - With such a blest and true-born English fry, - As much illustrates our nobility. - A gratitude which will so black appear, - As future ages must abhor to hear, - When they look back on all that crimson flood, - Which streamed in Lindsay's and Carnarvon's blood, - Bold Strafford, Cambridge, Capel, Lucas, Lisle, - Who crowned in death his father's funeral pile. - The loss of whom, in order to supply, - With true-born English nationality, - Six bastard Dukes survive his luscious reign, - The labours of Italian Castlemaine,[17] - French Portsmouth,[18] Tabby Scot, and Cambrian. - Besides the numerous bright and virgin throng, - Whose female glories shade them from my song. - This offspring, if one age they multiply, - May half the house with English peers supply; - There with true English pride they may contemn - Schomberg and Portland,[19] new made noblemen. - French cooks, Scotch pedlars, and Italian whores, - Were all made lords or lords' progenitors. - Beggars and bastards by his new creation - Much multiplied the peerage of the nation; - Who will be all, ere one short age runs o'er. - As true-born lords as those we had before. - Then to recruit the Commons he prepares - And heal the latent breaches of the wars; - The pious purpose better to advance, - He invites the banished Protestants of France: - Hither for God's sake and their own they fled, - Some for religion came, and some for bread; - Two hundred thousand pairs of wooden shoes, - Who, God be thanked, had nothing left to lose, - To Heaven's great praise did for religion fly, - To make us starve our poor in charity. - In every port they plant their fruitful train, - To get a race of true-born Englishmen; - Whose children will, when riper years they see, - Be as ill-natured and as proud as we; - Call themselves English, foreigners despise, - Be surly like us all, and just as wise. - Thus from a mixture of all kinds began - That heterogeneous thing an Englishman; - In eager rapes and furious lust begot, - Betwixt a painted Briton and a Scot; - Whose gendering offspring quickly learned to bow, - And yoke their heifers to the Roman plough; - From whence a mongrel half-bred race there came, - With neither name nor nation, speech nor fame; - In whose hot veins new mixtures quickly ran, - Infused betwixt a Saxon and a Dane; - While their rank daughters, to their parents just, - Received all nations with promiscuous lust. - This nauseous brood directly did contain - The well-extracted brood of Englishmen. - Which medley cantoned in a Heptarchy, - A rhapsody of nations to supply, - Among themselves maintained eternal wars, - And still the ladies loved the conquerors. - The Western Angles all the rest subdued, - A bloody nation, barbarous and rude, - Who by the tenure of the sword possessed - One part of Britain, and subdued the rest. - And as great things denominate the small, - The conquering part gave title to the whole; - The Scot, Pict, Briton, Roman, Dane, submit, - And with the English-Saxon all unite; - And these the mixtures have so close pursued, - The very name and memory's subdued. - No Roman now, no Briton does remain; - Wales strove to separate, but strove in vain; - The silent nations undistinguished fall, - And Englishman's the common name of all. - Fate jumbled them together, God knows how; - What e'er they were, they're true-born English now. - The wonder which remains is at our pride, - To value that which all men else deride. - For Englishmen to boast of generation - Cancels their knowledge and lampoons the nation. - A true-born Englishman's a contradiction, - In speech an irony, in fact a fiction; - A banter made to be a test to fools, - Which those that use it justly ridicules; - A metaphor invented to express - A man akin to all the universe. - For, as the Scots, as learned men have said, - Throughout the world their wandering seed have spread; - So open-handed England, 'tis believed, - Has all the gleanings of the world received. - Some think of England, 'twas our Saviour meant, - The Gospel should to all the world be sent, - Since, when the blessed sound did hither reach, - They to all nations might be said to preach. - 'Tis well that virtue gives nobility, - How shall we else the want of birth and blood supply? - Since scarce one family is left alive - Which does not from some foreigner derive. - Of sixty thousand English gentlemen, - Whose name and arms in registers remain, - We challenge all our heralds to declare - Ten families which English-Saxons are. - France justly owns the ancient noble line - Of Bourbon, Montmorency, and Lorraine, - The Germans too their House of Austria show - And Holland their invincible Nassau, - Lines which in heraldry were ancient grown - Before the name of Englishman was known. - Even Scotland, too, her elder glory shows, - Her Gordons, Hamiltons, and her Monros, - Douglas, Mackays, and Grahams, names well known - Long before ancient England knew her own. - But England, modern to the last degree | - Borrows or makes her own nobility, > - And yet she boldly boasts of pedigree; | - Repines that foreigners are put upon her, - And talks of her antiquity and honour; - Her Sackvilles, Saviles, Capels, De la Meres, | - Mohuns, and Montagues, Darcys, and Veres, > - Not one have English names, yet all are English peers. | - Your Hermans, Papillons, and Lavalliers | - Pass now for true-born English knights and squires, > - And make good senate members or Lord Mayors. | - Wealth, howsoever got, in Ehgland makes - Lords of mechanics, gentlemen of rakes: - Antiquity and birth are needless here; - 'Tis impudence and money makes a peer. - Innumerable City knights, we know, - From Bluecoat Hospital and Bridewell flow; - Draymen and porters fill the city Chair - And footboys magisterial purple wear. - Fate has but very small distinction set - Betwixt the counter and the coronet. - Tarpaulin lords, pages of high renown, - Rise up by poor men's valour, not their own. - Great families of yesterday we show, - And lords whose parents were the Lord knows who. - - - - -PART II - - - The breed's described: Now, Satire, if you can, - Their temper show, for manners make the man. - Fierce, as the Briton; as the Roman, brave; - And less inclined to conquer than to save; - Eager to fight, and lavish of their blood, - And equally of fear and forecast void. - The Pict has made 'em sour, the Dane morose; - False from the Scot, and from the Norman worse. - What honesty they have, the Saxons gave them, - And that, now they grow old, begins to leave them. - The climate makes them terrible and bold, - And English beef their courage does uphold; - No danger can their daring spirit pall, - Always provided that their belly's full. - In close intrigues their faculty's but weak, - For generally what e'er they know they speak, - And often their own counsels undermine - By their infirmity, and not design; - From whence the learned say it does proceed, - That English treasons never can succeed; - For they're so open-hearted, you may know - Their own most secret thoughts, and others too. - The laboring poor, in spite of double pay, - Are saucy, mutinous, and beggarly, - So lavish of their money and their time, - That want of forecast is the nation's crime. - Good drunken company is their delight, - And what they get by day they spend by night. - Dull thinking seldom does their heads engage, - But drink their youth away, and hurry on old age. - Empty of all good husbandry and sense, - And void of manners most when void of pence, - Their strong aversion to behaviour's such, - They always talk too little or too much; - So dull, they never take the pains to think, - And seldom are good-natured, but in drink. - In English ale their dear enjoyment lies, - For which they'll starve themselves and families. - An Englishman will fairly drink as much - As will maintain two families of Dutch: - Subjecting all their labour to their pots; - The greatest artists are the greatest sots. - The country poor do by example live; - The gentry lead them, and the clergy drive: - What may we not from such examples hope? - The landlord is their god, the priest their pope. - A drunken clergy and a swearing bench - Has given the Reformation such a drench, - As wise men think there is some cause to doubt - Will purge good manners and religion out. - Nor do the poor alone their liquor prize; - The sages join in this great sacrifice; - The learned men who study Aristotle, - Correct him with an explanation bottle; - Praise Epicurus rather than Lysander, - And Aristippus[20] more than Alexander. - The doctors, too, their Galen here resign, - And generally prescribe specific wine; - The graduate's study's grown an easier task, - While for the urinal they toss the flask; - The surgeon's art grows plainer every hour, - And wine's the balm which into wounds they pour. - Poets long since Parnassus have forsaken, - And say the ancient bards were all mistaken. - Apollo's lately abdicate and fled, - And good King Bacchus governs in his stead; - He does the chaos of the head refine, - And atom-thoughts jump into words by wine: - The inspirations of a finer nature, - As wine must needs excel Parnassus' water. - Statesmen their weighty politics refine, - And soldiers raise their courages by wine; - Cecilia gives her choristers their choice, - And lets them all drink wine to clear their voice. - Some think the clergy first found out the way, - And wine's the only spirit by which they pray; - But others, less profane than so, agree - It clears the lungs and helps the memory; - And therefore all of them divinely think, - Instead of study, 'tis as well to drink. - And here I would be very glad to know - Whether our Asgilites may drink or no; - Th' enlight'ning fumes of wine would certainly - Assist them much when they begin to fly; - Or if a fiery chariot should appear, - Inflamed by wine, they'd have the less to fear. - Even the gods themselves, as mortals say, - Were they on earth, would be as drunk as they; - Nectar would be no more celestial drink, - They'd all take wine, to teach them how to think. - But English drunkards gods and men outdo, - Drink their estates away, and money too. - Colon's in debt, and if his friends should fail - To help him out, must die at at last in gaol; - His wealthy uncle sent a hundred nobles - To pay his trifles off, and rid him of his troubles; - But Colon, like a true-born Englishman, | - Drank all the money out in bright champagne, > - And Colon does in custody remain. | - Drunk'ness has been the darling of this realm - E'er since a drunken pilot had the helm. - In their religion they are so uneven, - That each man goes his own by-way to Heaven, - Tenacious of mistakes to that degree | - That ev'ry man pursues it separately, > - And fancies none can find the way but he: | - So shy of one another they are grown, - As if they strove to get to Heaven alone. - Rigid and zealous, positive and grave, - And ev'ry grace but Charity they have. - This makes them so ill-natured and uncivil, - That all men think an Englishman the devil. - Surly to strangers, froward to their friend; | - Submit to love with a reluctant mind. > - Resolved to be ungrateful and unkind, | - If by necessity reduced to ask, - The giver has the difficultest task; - For what's bestowed they awkwardly receive, - And always take less freely than they give. - The obligation is their highest grief, - And never love where they accept relief. - So sullen in their sorrow, that 'tis known - They'll rather die than their afflictions own; - And if relieved, it is too often true - That they'll abuse their benefactors too; - For in distress, their haughty stomach's such, - They hate to see themselves obliged too much. - Seldom contented, often in the wrong, - Hard to be pleased at all, and never long. - If your mistakes their ill opinion gain, - No merit can their favour reobtain; - And if they're not vindictive in their fury, - 'Tis their unconstant temper does secure ye. - Their brain's so cool, their passion seldom burns, - For all's condensed before the flame returns; - The fermentation's of so weak a matter, - The humid damps the fume, and runs it all to water. - So, though the inclination may be strong, - They're pleased by fits, and never angry long. - - Then, if good-nature shows some slender proof, - They never think they have reward enough, - But, like our modern Quakers of the town, - Expect your manners, and return you none. - Friendship, th' abstracted union of the mind, - Which all men seek, but very few can find: - Of all the nations in the universe, - None talk on't more, or understand it less; - For if it does their property annoy, - Their property their friendship will destroy. - As you discourse them, you shall hear them tell - All things in which they think they do excel. - No panegyric needs their praise record; - An Englishman ne'er wants his own good word. - His long discourses generally appear - Prologued with his own wond'rous character. - But first to illustrate his own good name, - He never fails his neighbour to defame; - And yet he really designs no wrong-- - His malice goes no further than his tongue. - But pleased to tattle, he delights to rail, - To satisfy the lech'ry of a tale. - His own dear praises close the ample speech; - Tells you how wise he is--that is, how rich: - For wealth is wisdom; he that's rich is wise; - And all men learned poverty despise. - His generosity comes next, and then - Concludes that he's a true-born Englishman; - And they, 'tis known, are generous and free, - Forgetting and forgiving injury: - Which may be true, thus rightly understood, - Forgiving ill turns, and forgetting good. - Cheerful in labour when they've undertook it, - But out of humour when they're out of pocket. - But if their belly and their pocket's full, - They may be phlegmatic, but never dull: - And if a bottle does their brains refine, - It makes their wit as sparkling as their wine. - As for the general vices which we find - They're guilty of, in common with mankind, - Satire, forbear, and silently endure; - We must conceal the crimes we cannot cure. - Nor shall my verse the brighter sex defame, - For English beauty will preserve her name, - Beyond dispute, agreeable and fair, - And modester than other nations are: - For where the vice prevails, the great temptation - Is want of money more than inclination. - In general, this only is allowed, - They're something noisy, and a little proud. - An Englishman is gentlest in command, - Obedience is a stranger in the land: - Hardly subjected to the magistrate, - For Englishmen do all subjection hate; - Humblest when rich, but peevish when they're poor, - And think, what e'er they have, they merit more. - The meanest English ploughman studies law, - And keeps thereby the magistrates in awe; - Will boldly tell them what they have to do, - And sometimes punish their omissions too. - Their liberty and property's so dear, - They scorn their laws or governors to fear: - So bugbeared with the name of slavery, - They can't submit to their own liberty. - Restraint from ill is freedom to the wise; - But Englishmen do all restraint despise. - Slaves to their liquor, drudges to the pots, - The mob are statesmen and their statesmen sots. - Their governors they count such dangerous things, - That 'tis their custom to affront their kings: - So jealous of the power their kings possest, - They suffer neither power nor king to rest. - The bad with force they easily subdue: - The good with constant clamours they pursue; - And did King Jesus reign, they'd murmur too. - A discontented nation, and by far - Harder to rule in times of peace than war: - Easily set together by the ears, - And full of causeless jealousies and fears: - Apt to revolt, and willing to rebel, - And never are contented when they're well. - No Government could ever please them long, - Could tie their hands, or rectify their tongue: - In this to ancient Israel well compared, - Eternal murmurs are among them heard. - It was but lately that they were oppressed, - Their rights invaded, and their laws suppressed: - When nicely tender of their liberty, - Lord! what a noise they made of slavery. - In daily tumult showed their discontent, - Lampooned the King, and mocked his Government. - And if in arms they did not first appear, - 'Twas want of force, and not for want of fear. - In humbler tone than English used to do, - At foreign hands for foreign aid they sue. - William, the great successor of Nassau, - Their prayers heard and their oppressions saw: - He saw and saved them; God and him they praised, - To this their thanks, to that their trophies raised. - But, glutted with their own felicities, - They soon their new deliverer despise; - Say all their prayers back, their joy disown, - Unsing their thanks, and pull their trophies down; - Their harps of praise are on the willows hung, - For Englishmen are ne'er contented long. - The reverend clergy, too! Who would have thought | - That they, who had such non-resistance taught, > - Should e'er to arms against their prince be brought, | - - Who up to Heaven did regal power advance, - Subjecting English laws to modes of France, - Twisting religion so with loyalty, - As one could never live and t'other die. - And yet no sooner did their prince design - Their glebes and perquisites to undermine, - But, all their passive doctrines laid aside, - The clergy their own principles denied; - Unpreached their non-resisting cant, and prayed - To Heaven for help and to the Dutch for aid. - The Church chimed all her doctrines back again, - And pulpit champions did the cause maintain; - Flew in the face of all their former zeal, - And non-resistance did at once repeal. - The Rabbis say it would be too prolix - To tie religion up to politics: - The Church's safety is _suprema lex_. - And so, by a new figure of their own, - Their former doctrines all at once disown; - As laws _post facto_ in the Parliament - In urgent cases have obtained assent, - But are as dangerous precedents laid by, - Made lawful only by necessity. - The reverend fathers then in arms appear, - And men of God become the men of war. - The nation, fired by them, to arms apply, - Assault their Antichristian monarchy; - To their due channel all our laws restore, - And made things what they should have been before. - But when they came to fill the vacant throne, - And the pale priests looked back on what they'd done; - How English liberty began to thrive, - And Church of England loyalty outlive; - How all their persecuting days were done, - And their deliverer placed upon the throne: - The priests, as priests are wont to do, turned tail; - They're Englishmen, and nature will prevail. - Now they deplore the ruins they have made, - And murmur for the master they betrayed, - Excuse those crimes they could not make him mend, - And suffer for the cause they can't defend. - Pretend they'd not have carried things so high, - And proto-martyrs make for Popery. - Had the prince done as they designed the thing, - Have set the clergy up to rule the King, - Taken a donative for coming hither, - And so have left their King and them together, - We had, say they, been now a happy nation. - No doubt we had seen a blessed reformation: - For wise men say 'tis as dangerous a thing, - A ruling priesthood as a priest-rid king; - And of all plagues with which mankind are curst, - Ecclesiastic tyranny's the worst. - If all our former grievances were feigned, - King James has been abused and we trepanned; - Bugbeared with Popery and power despotic, - Tyrannic government and leagues exotic: - The Revolution's a fanatic plot, - William a tyrant, Sunderland a sot: - A factious army and a poisoned nation - Unjustly forced King James's abdication. - But if he did the subjects' rights invade, - Then he was punished only, not betrayed; - And punishing of kings is no such crime, - But Englishmen have done it many a time. - When kings the sword of justice first lay down, - They are no kings, though they possess the crown: - Titles are shadows, crowns are empty things: - The good of subjects is the end of kings; - To guide in war and to protect in peace; - Where tyrants once commence the kings do cease; - For arbitrary power's so strange a thing, - It makes the tyrant and unmakes the king. - If kings by foreign priests and armies reign, | - And lawless power against their oaths maintain, > - Then subjects must have reason to complain. | - If oaths must bind us when our kings do ill, - To call in foreign aid is to rebel. - By force to circumscribe our lawful prince - Is wilful treason in the largest sense; - And they who once rebel, most certainly - Their God, and king, and former oaths defy. - If we allow no maladministration - Could cancel the allegiance of the nation, - Let all our learned sons of Levi try - This ecclesiastic riddle to untie: - How they could make a step to call the prince, - And yet pretend to oaths and innocence? - By the first address they made beyond the seas, - They're perjured in the most intense degrees; - And without scruple for the time to come - May swear to all the kings in Christendom. - And truly did our kings consider all, - They'd never let the clergy swear at all; - Their politic allegiance they'd refuse, - For whores and priests do never want excuse. - But if the mutual contract were dissolved, - The doubts explained, the difficulties solved, - That kings, when they descend to tyranny, - Dissolve the bond and leave the subject free, - The government's ungirt when justice dies, - And constitutions are non-entities; - The nation's all a mob; there's no such thing - As Lords or Commons, Parliament or King. - A great promiscuous crowd the hydra lies - Till laws revive and mutual contract ties; - A chaos free to choose for their own share - What case of government they please to wear. - If to a king they do the reins commit, - All men are bound in conscience to submit; - But then that king must by his oath assent - To _postulatus_ of the government, - Which if he breaks, he cuts off the entail, - And power retreats to its original. - This doctrine has the sanction of assent - From Nature's universal Parliament. - The voice of Nature and the course of things - Allow that laws superior are to kings. - None but delinquents would have justice cease; - Knaves rail at laws as soldiers rail at peace; - For justice is the end of government, - As reason is the test of argument. - No man was ever yet so void of sense - As to debate the right of self-defence, - A principle so grafted in the mind, - With Nature born, and does like Nature bind; - Twisted with reason and with Nature too, - As neither one or other can undo. - Nor can this right be less when national; - Reason, which governs one, should govern all. - Whatever the dialects of courts may tell, - He that his right demands can ne'er rebel, - Which right, if 'tis by governors denied, - May be procured by force or foreign aid; - For tyranny's a nation's term of grief, - As folks cry "Fire" to hasten in relief; - And when the hated word is heard about, - All men should come to help the people out. - Thus England groaned--Britannia's voice was heard, - And great Nassau to rescue her appeared, - Called by the universal voice of Fate-- - God and the people's legal magistrate. - Ye Heavens regard! Almighty Jove look down, - And view thy injured monarch on the throne. - On their ungrateful heads due vengeance take, - Who sought his aid and then his part forsake. - Witness, ye Powers! It was our call alone, - Which now our pride makes us ashamed to own. - Britannia's troubles fetched him from afar - To court the dreadful casualties of war; - But where requital never can be made, - Acknowledgment's a tribute seldom paid. - He dwelt in bright Maria's circling arms, - Defended by the magic of her charms - From foreign fears and from domestic harms. - Ambition found no fuel to her fire; - He had what God could give or man desire. - Till pity roused him from his soft repose, - His life to unseen hazards to expose; - Till pity moved him in our cause t'appear; - Pity! that word which now we hate to hear. - But English gratitude is always such, - To hate the hand which doth oblige too much. - Britannia's cries gave birth to his intent, - And hardly gained his unforeseen assent; - His boding thoughts foretold him he should find - The people fickle, selfish, and unkind. - Which thought did to his royal heart appear - More dreadful than the dangers of the war; - For nothing grates a generous mind so soon - As base returns for hearty service done. - Satire, be silent! awfully prepare - Britannia's song and William's praise to hear. - Stand by, and let her cheerfully rehearse - Her grateful vows in her immortal verse. - Loud Fame's eternal trumpet let her sound; - Listen, ye distant Poles and endless round. - May the strong blast the welcome news convey - As far as sound can reach or spirit can fly. - To neighb'ring worlds, if such there be, relate - Our hero's fame, for theirs to imitate. - To distant worlds of spirits let her rehearse: - For spirits, without the help of voice, converse. - May angels hear the gladsome news on high, - Mixed with their everlasting symphony. - And Hell itself stand in suspense to know - Whether it be the fatal blast or no. - - - - -BRITANNIA - - The fame of virtue 'tis for which I sound, - And heroes with immortal triumphs crowned. - Fame, built on solid virtue, swifter flies - Than morning light can spread my eastern skies. - The gathering air returns the doubling sound, - And loud repeating thunders force it round; - Echoes return from caverns of the deep; - Old Chaos dreamt on't in eternal sleep; - Time hands it forward to its latest urn, - From whence it never, never shall return; - Nothing is heard so far or lasts so long; - 'Tis heard by every ear and spoke by every tongue. - My hero, with the sails of honour furled, - Rises like the great genius of the world. - By Fate and Fame wisely prepared to be - The soul of war and life of victory; - He spreads the wings of virtue on the throne, - And every wind of glory fans them on. - Immortal trophies dwell upon his brow, - Fresh as the garlands he has won but now. - By different steps the high ascent he gains, - And differently that high ascent maintains. - Princes for pride and lust of rule make war, - And struggle for the name of conqueror. - Some fight for fame, and some for victory; - He fights to save, and conquers to set free. - Then seek no phrase his titles to conceal, - And hide with words what actions must reveal, - No parallel from Hebrew stories take - Of god-like kings my similes to make; - No borrowed names conceal my living theme, - But names and things directly I proclaim. - 'Tis honest merit does his glory raise, - Whom that exalts let no man fear to praise: - Of such a subject no man need be shy, - Virtue's above the reach of flattery. - He needs no character but his own fame, - Nor any flattering titles but his name: - William's the name that's spoke by every tongue, - William's the darling subject of my song. - Listen, ye virgins to the charming sound, - And in eternal dances hand it round: - Your early offerings to this altar bring, - Make him at once a lover and a king. - May he submit to none but to your arms, - Nor ever be subdued but by your charms. - May your soft thoughts for him be all sublime, - And every tender vow be made for him. - May he be first in every morning thought, - And Heaven ne'er hear a prayer when he's left out. - May every omen, every boding dream, - Be fortunate by mentioning his name; - May this one charm infernal power affright, - And guard you from the terrors of the night; - May every cheerful glass, as it goes down - To William's health, be cordials to your own. - Let every song be chorused with his name, - And music pay a tribute to his fame; - Let every poet tune his artful verse, - And in immortal strains his deeds rehearse. - And may Apollo never more inspire - The disobedient bard with his seraphic fire; - May all my sons their graceful homage pay, - His praises sing, and for his safety pray. - Satire, return to our unthankful isle, - Secured by Heaven's regard and William's toil; - To both ungrateful and to both untrue, - Rebels to God, and to good-nature too. - If e'er this nation be distressed again, - To whomsoe'er they cry, they'll cry in vain; - To Heaven they cannot have the face to look, - Or, if they should, it would but Heaven provoke. - To hope for help from man would be too much, - Mankind would always tell them of the Dutch; - How they came here our freedoms to obtain, - Were paid and cursed, and hurried home again; - How by their aid we first dissolved our fears, - And then our helpers damned for foreigners. - 'Tis not our English temper to do better, - For Englishmen think every man their debtor. - 'Tis worth observing that we ne'er complained | - Of foreigners, nor of the wealth they gained, > - Till all their services were at an end. | - Wise men affirm it is the English way - Never to grumble till they come to pay, - And then they always think, their temper's such, - The work too little and the pay too much. - As frightened patients, when they want a cure, - Bid any price, and any pain endure; - But when the doctor's remedies appear, - The cure's too easy and the price too dear. - Great Portland ne'er was bantered when he strove - For us his master's kindest thoughts to move; - We ne'er lampooned his conduct when employed - King James's secret counsels to divide: - Then we caressed him as the only man - Which could the doubtful oracle explain; - The only Hushai able to repel - The dark designs of our Achitopel; - Compared his master's courage to his sense, - The ablest statesman and the bravest prince. - On his wise conduct we depended much, - And liked him ne'er the worse for being Dutch. - Nor was he valued more than he deserved, - Freely he ventured, faithfully he served. - In all King William's dangers he has shared; - In England's quarrels always he appeared: - The Revolution first, and then the Boyne, - In both his counsels and his conduct shine; - His martial valour Flanders will confess, - And France regrets his managing the peace. - Faithful to England's interest and her king; - The greatest reason of our murmuring. - Ten years in English service he appeared, | - And gained his master's and the world's regard: > - But 'tis not England's custom to reward. | - The wars are over, England needs him not; - Now he's a Dutchman, and the Lord knows what. - Schomberg, the ablest soldier of his age, - With great Nassau did in our cause engage: - Both joined for England's rescue and defence, - The greatest captain and the greatest prince. - With what applause, his stories did we tell! - Stories which Europe's volumes largely swell. - We counted him an army in our aid: - Where he commanded, no man was afraid. - His actions with a constant conquest shine, - From Villa-Viciosa to the Rhine. - France, Flanders, Germany, his fame confess, - And all the world was fond of him, but us. - Our turn first served, we grudged him the command: - Witness the grateful temper of the land. - We blame the King that he relies too much - On strangers, Germans, Hugonots, and Dutch, - And seldom does his great affairs of state - To English counsellors communicate. - The fact might very well be answered thus: - He has so often been betrayed by us, - He must have been a madman to rely - On English Godolphin's fidelity. - For, laying other arguments aside, - This thought might mortify our English pride, - That foreigners have faithfully obeyed him, - And none but Englishmen have e'er betrayed him. - They have our ships and merchants bought and sold, - And bartered English blood for foreign gold. - First to the French they sold our Turkey fleet, - And injured Talmarsh next at Camaret. - The King himself is sheltered from their snares, - Not by his merit, but the crown he wears. - Experience tells us 'tis the English way - Their benefactors always to betray. - And lest examples should be too remote, | - A modern magistrate of famous note > - Shall give you his own character by rote. | - I'll make it out, deny it he that can, - His worship is a true-born Englishman, - In all the latitude of that empty word, - By modern acceptations understood. - The parish books his great descent record; - And now he hopes ere long to be a lord. - And truly, as things go, it would be pity - But such as he should represent the City: - While robbery for burnt-offering he brings, - And gives to God what he has stole from kings: - Great monuments of charity he raises, - And good St. Magnus whistles out his praises. - To City gaols he grants a jubilee, - And hires huzzas from his own Mobilee.[21] - Lately he wore the golden chain and gown, - With which equipped, he thus harangued the town. - - - -HIS FINE SPEECH, ETC. - - With clouted iron shoes and sheep-skin breeches, - More rags than manners, and more dirt than riches; - From driving cows and calves to Leyton Market, - While of my greatness there appeared no spark yet, - Behold I come, to let you see the pride - With which exalted beggars always ride. - Born to the needful labours of the plough, - The cart-whip graced me, as the chain does now. - Nature and Fate, in doubt what course to take, - Whether I should a lord or plough-boy make, - Kindly at last resolved they would promote me, - And first a knave, and then a knight, they vote me. - What Fate appointed, Nature did prepare, - And furnished me with an exceeding care, - To fit me for what they designed to have me; - And every gift, but honesty, they gave me. - And thus equipped, to this proud town I came, - In quest of bread, and not in quest of fame. - Blind to my future fate, a humble boy, - Free from the guilt and glory I enjoy, - The hopes which my ambition entertained - Were in the name of foot-boy all contained. - The greatest heights from small beginnings rise; - The gods were great on earth before they reached the skies. - B---- well, the generous temper of whose mind - Was ever to be bountiful inclined, - Whether by his ill-fate or fancy led, - First took me up, and furnished me with bread. - The little services he put me to - Seemed labours, rather than were truly so. - But always my advancement he designed, - For 'twas his very nature to be kind. - Large was his soul, his temper ever free; - The best of masters and of men to me. - And I, who was before decreed by Fate - To be made infamous as well as great, - With an obsequious diligence obeyed him, - Till trusted with his all, and then betrayed him. - All his past kindnesses I trampled on, - Ruined his fortunes to erect my own. - So vipers in the bosom bred, begin - To hiss at that hand first which took them in. - With eager treachery I his fall pursued, - And my first trophies were Ingratitude. - Ingratitude, the worst of human wit, - The basest action mankind can commit; - Which, like the sin against the Holy Ghost, - Has least of honour, and of guilt the most; - Distinguished from all other crimes by this, - That 'tis a crime which no man will confess. - That sin alone, which should not be forgiven - On earth, although perhaps it may in Heaven. - Thus my first benefactor I o'erthrew; - And how should I be to a second true? - The public trusts came next into my care, - And I to use them scurvily prepare. - My needy sovereign lord I played upon, - And lent him many a thousand of his own; - For which great interests I took care to charge, - And so my ill-got wealth became so large. - My predecessor, Judas, was a fool, - Fitter to have been whipped and sent to school - Than sell a Saviour. Had I been at hand, - His Master had not been so cheap trepanned; - I would have made the eager Jews have found, - For forty pieces, thirty thousand pound. - My cousin, Ziba, of immortal fame - (Ziba and I shall never want a name), - First-born of treason, nobly did advance - His master's fall for his inheritance, - By whose keen arts old David first began - To break his sacred oath with Jonathan: - The good old king, 'tis thought, was very loth - To break his word, and therefore broke his oath. - Ziba's a traitor of some quality, - Yet Ziba might have been informed by me: - Had I been there, he ne'er had been content - With half the estate, nor have the government. - In our late revolution 'twas thought strange - That I, of all mankind, should like the change; - But they who wondered at it never knew - That in it I did my old game pursue; - Nor had they heard of twenty thousand pound, - Which never yet was lost, nor ne'er was found. - Thus all things in their turn to sale I bring, - God and my master first, and then the King; - Till, by successful villanies made bold, - I thought to turn the nation into gold; - And so to forgery my hand I bent, | - Not doubting I could gull the Government; > - But there was ruffled by the Parliament. | - And if I 'scaped the unhappy tree to climb, - 'Twas want of law, and not for want of crime. - But my old friend,[22] who printed in my face - A needful competence of English brass, - Having more business yet for me to do, - And loth to lose his trusty servant so, - Managed the matter with such art and skill - As saved his hero and threw down the bill. - And now I'm graced with unexpected honours, - For which I'll certainly abuse the donors. - Knighted, and made a tribune of the people, - Whose laws and properties I'm like to keep well; - The _custos rotulorum_ of the City, - And captain of the guards of their banditti. - Surrounded by my catchpoles, I declare - Against the needy debtor open war; - I hang poor thieves for stealing of your pelf, - And suffer none to rob you but myself. - The King commanded me to help reform ye, - And how I'll do it, Miss shall inform ye. - I keep the best seraglio in the nation, - And hope in time to bring it into fashion. - For this my praise is sung by every bard, - For which Bridewell would be a just reward. - In print my panegyrics fill the streets, - And hired gaol-birds their huzzas repeat. - Some charities contrived to make a show, - Have taught the needy rabble to do so, - Whose empty noise is a mechanic fame, - Since for Sir Belzebub they'd do the same. - - - -THE CONCLUSION - - Then let us boast of ancestors no more, - Or deeds of heroes done in days of yore, - In latent records of the ages past, - Behind the rear of time, in long oblivion placed. - For if our virtues must in lines descend, - The merit with the families would end, - And intermixtures would most fatal grow; - For vice would be hereditary too; - The tainted blood would of necessity - Involuntary wickedness convey. - Vice, like ill-nature, for an age or two - May seem a generation to pursue; - But virtue seldom does regard the breed; - Fools do the wise, and wise men fools succeed. - What is't to us what ancestors we had? - If good, what better? or what worse, if bad? - Examples are for imitation set, - Yet all men follow virtue with regret. - Could but our ancestors retrieve the fate, - And see their offspring thus degenerate; - How we contend for birth and names unknown, - And build on their past actions, not our own; - They'd cancel records, and their tombs deface, - And openly disown the vile degenerate race: - For fame of families is all a cheat, - 'Tis personal virtue only makes us great. - - - - - - -THE SHORTEST WAY -WITH -THE DISSENTERS; -OR, -PROPOSALS FOR THE ESTABLISHMENT -OF -THE CHURCH - - - - - - -THE SHORTEST WAY WITH -THE DISSENTERS - - -Sir Roger L'Estrange tells us a story in his collection of fables, of -the cock and the horses. The cock was gotten to roost in the stable -among the horses, and there being no racks or other conveniences for -him, it seems he was forced to roost upon the ground. The horses -jostling about for room, and putting the cock in danger of his life, -he gives them this grave advice, "Pray, gentlefolks, let us stand -still, for fear we should tread upon one another." - -There are some people in the world, who now they are unperched, and -reduced to an equality with other people, and under strong and very -just apprehensions of being further treated as they deserve, begin, -with sop's cock, to preach up peace and union, and the Christian -duties of moderation, for getting that, when they had the power in -their hands, these graces were strangers in their gates. - -It is now near fourteen years[23] that the glory and peace of the -purest and most flourishing Church in the world has been eclipsed, -buffeted, and disturbed by a sort of men whom God in His providence -has suffered to insult over her and bring her down. These have been -the days of her humiliation and tribulation. She has borne with -invincible patience the reproach of the wicked, and God has at last -heard her prayers, and delivered her from the oppression of the -stranger. - -And now they find their day is over, their power gone, and the throne -of this nation possessed by a royal, English, true, and ever-constant -member of, and friend to, the Church of England. Now they find that -they are in danger of the Church of England's just resentments; now -they cry out peace, union, forbearance, and charity, as if the Church -had not too long harboured her enemies under her wing, and nourished -the viperous brood till they hiss and fly in the face of the mother -that cherished them. - -No, gentlemen, the time of mercy is past, your day of grace is over; -you should have practised peace, and moderation, and charity, if you -expected any yourselves. - -We have heard none of this lesson for fourteen years past. We have -been huffed and bullied with your Act of Toleration; you have told us -that you are the Church established by law, as well as others; have -set up your canting synagogues at our church doors, and the Church and -members have been loaded with reproaches, with oaths, associations, -abjurations, and what not. Where has been the mercy, the forbearance, -the charity, you have shown to tender consciences of the Church of -England, that could not take oaths as fast as you made them; that -having sworn allegiance to their lawful and rightful King, could not -dispense with that oath, their King being still alive, and swear to -your new hodge-podge of a Dutch Government? These have been turned out -of their livings, and they and their families left to starve; their -estates double taxed to carry on a war they had no hand in, and you -got nothing by. What account can you give of the multitudes you have -forced to comply, against their consciences, with your new sophistical -politics, who, like new converts in France, sin because they cannot -starve? And now the tables are turned upon you; you must not be -persecuted; it is not a Christian spirit. - -You have butchered one king, deposed another king, and made a mock -king of a third,[24] and yet you could have the face to expect to be -employed and trusted by the fourth. Anybody that did not know the -temper of your party would stand amazed at the impudence, as well as -folly, to think of it. - -Your management of your Dutch monarch, whom you reduced to a mere King -of Clouts, is enough to give any future princes such an idea of your -principles as to warn them sufficiently from coming into your -clutches; and God be thanked the Queen is out of your hands, knows -you, and will have a care of you. - -There is no doubt but the supreme authority of a nation has in itself -a power, and a right to that power, to execute the laws upon any part -of that nation it governs. The execution of the known laws of the -land, and that with a weak and gentle hand neither, was all this -fanatical party of this land have ever called persecution; this they -have magnified to a height, that the sufferings of the Huguenots in -France were not to be compared with. Now, to execute the known laws of -a nation upon those who transgress them, after voluntarily consenting -to the making those laws, can never be called persecution, but -justice. But justice is always violence to the party offending, for -every man is innocent in his own eyes. The first execution of the laws -against Dissenters in England was in the days of King James the -First;[25] and what did it amount to truly? The worst they suffered -was at their own request: to let them go to New England and erect a -new colony, and give them great privileges, grants, and suitable -powers, keep them under protection, and defend them against all -invaders, and receive no taxes or revenue from them. This was the -cruelty of the Church of England. Fatal leniency! It was the ruin of -that excellent prince, King Charles the First. Had King James sent all -the Puritans in England away to the West Indies, we had been a -national, unmixed Church; the Church of England had been kept -undivided and entire. - -To requite the lenity of the father they take up arms against the son; -conquer, pursue, take, imprison, and at last put to death the anointed -of God, and destroy the very being and nature of government, setting -up a sordid impostor, who had neither title to govern nor -understanding to manage, but supplied that want with power, bloody and -desperate counsels, and craft without conscience. - -Had not King James the First withheld the full execution of the laws, -had he given them strict justice, he had cleared the nation of them, -and the consequences had been plain: his son had never been murdered -by them nor the monarchy overwhelmed. It was too much mercy shown -them, was the ruin of his posterity and the ruin of the nation's -peace. One would think the Dissenters should not have the face to -believe that we are to be wheedled and canted into peace and -toleration when they know that they have once requited us with a civil -war, and once with an intolerable and unrighteous persecution for our -former civility. - -Nay, to encourage us to be easy with them, it is apparent that they -never had the upper hand of the Church, but they treated her with all -the severity, with all the reproach and contempt that was possible. -What peace and what mercy did they show the loyal gentry of the Church -of England in the time of their triumphant Commonwealth? How did they -put all the gentry of England to ransom, whether they were actually in -arms for the King or not, making people compound for their estates and -starve their families? How did they treat the clergy of the Church of -England, sequestered the ministers, devoured the patrimony of the -Church, and divided the spoil by sharing the Church lands among their -soldiers, and turning her clergy out to starve? Just such measure as -they have meted should be measured them again. - -Charity and love is the known doctrine of the Church of England, and -it is plain she has put it in practice towards the Dissenters, even -beyond what they ought, till she has been wanting to herself, and in -effect unkind to her sons, particularly in the too much lenity of King -James the First, mentioned before. Had he so rooted the Puritans from -the face of the land, which he had an opportunity early to have done, -they had not had the power to vex the Church as since they have done. - -In the days of King Charles the Second, how did the Church reward -their bloody doings with lenity and mercy, except the barbarous -regicides of the pretended court of justice? Not a soul suffered for -all the blood in an unnatural war. King Charles came in all mercy and -love, cherished them, preferred them, employed them, withheld the -rigour of the law, and oftentimes, even against the advice of his -Parliament, gave them liberty of conscience;[26] and how did they -requite him with the villainous contrivance to depose and murder him -and his successor at the Rye Plot?[27] - -King James, as if mercy was the inherent quality of the family, began -his reign with unusual favour to them. Nor could their joining with -the Duke of Monmouth against him move him to do himself justice upon -them; but that mistaken prince thought to win them by gentleness and -love, proclaimed an universal liberty to them, and rather -discountenanced the Church of England than them.[28] How they requited -him all the world knows. - -The late reign is too fresh in the memory of all the world to need a -comment; how, under pretence of joining with the Church in redressing -some grievances, they pushed things to that extremity, in conjunction -with some mistaken gentlemen, as to depose the late King, as if the -grievance of the nation could not have been redressed but by the -absolute ruin of the prince. Here is an instance of their temper, -their peace, and charity. To what height they carried themselves -during the reign of a king of their own; how they crept into all -places of trust and profit; how they insinuated into the favour of the -King, and were at first preferred to the highest places in the nation; -how they engrossed the ministry, and above all, how pitifully they -managed, is too plain to need any remarks. - -But particularly their mercy and charity, the spirit of union, they -tell us so much of, has been remarkable in Scotland. If any man would -see the spirit of a Dissenter, let him look into Scotland. There they -made entire conquest of the Church, trampled down the sacred orders, -and suppressed the Episcopal government with an absolute, and, as they -suppose, irretrievable victory, though it is possible they may find -themselves mistaken. Now it would be a very proper question to ask -their impudent advocate, the Observator, pray how much mercy and -favour did the members of the Episcopal Church find in Scotland from -the Scotch Presbyterian Government? and I shall undertake for the -Church of England that the Dissenters shall still receive as much -here, though they deserve but little. - -In a small treatise of the sufferings of the Episcopal clergy in -Scotland, it will appear what usage they met with; how they not only -lost their livings, but in several places were plundered and abused in -their persons; the ministers that could not conform turned out with -numerous families and no maintenance, and hardly charity enough left -to relieve them with a bit of bread. And the cruelties of the parties -are innumerable, and not to be attempted in this short piece. - -And now to prevent the distant cloud which they perceived to hang over -their heads from England. With a true Presbyterian policy, they put in -for a union of nations, that England might unite their Church with the -Kirk of Scotland, and their Presbyterian members sit in our House of -Commons, and their Assembly of Scotch canting long-cloaks in our -Convocation. What might have been if our fanatic Whiggish statesmen -continued, God only knows; but we hope we are out of fear of that now. - -It is alleged by some of the faction--and they began to bully us with -it--that if we won't unite with them, they will not settle the crown -with us again, but when Her Majesty dies, will choose a king for -themselves. - -If they won't, we must make them, and it is not the first time we have -let them know that we are able. The crowns of these kingdoms have not -so far disowned the right of succession, but they may retrieve it -again; and if Scotland thinks to come off from a successive to an -elective state of government, England has not promised not to assist -the right heir and put them into possession without any regard to -their ridiculous settlements.[29] - -These are the gentlemen, these their ways of treating the Church, both -at home and abroad. Now let us examine the reasons they pretend to -give why we should be favourable to them, why we should continue and -tolerate them among us. - -First, they are very numerous, they say; they are a great part of the -nation, and we cannot suppress them. - -To this may be answered:-- -1. They are not so numerous as the Protestants in France, and yet the -French King effectually cleared the nation of them at once, and we -don't find he misses them at home.[30] But I am not of the opinion -they are so numerous as is pretended; their party is more numerous -than their persons, and those mistaken people of the Church who are -misled and deluded by their wheedling artifices to join with them, -make their party the greater; but these will open their eyes when the -Government shall set heartily about the work, and come off from them, -as some animals which they say always desert a house when it is likely -to fall. - -2. The more numerous the more dangerous, and therefore the more need -to suppress them; and God has suffered us to bear them as goads in our -sides for not utterly extinguishing them long ago. - -3. If we are to allow them only because we cannot suppress them, then -it ought to be tried whether we can or not; and I am of opinion it is -easy to be done, and could prescribe ways and means, if it were -proper; but I doubt not the Government will find effectual methods for -the rooting the contagion from the face of this land. - -Another argument they use, which is this, that it is a time of war, -and we have need to unite against the common enemy. - -We answer, this common enemy had been no enemy if they had not made -him so. He was quiet in peace, and no way disturbed or encroached upon -us, and we know no reason we had to quarrel with him. - -But further, we make no question but we are able to deal with this -common enemy without their help; but why must we unite with them -because of the enemy? Will they go over to the enemy if we do not -prevent it by a union with them? We are very well contented they -should, and make no question we shall be ready to deal with them and -the common enemy too, and better without them than with them. - -Besides, if we have a common enemy, there is the more need to be -secure against our private enemies. If there is one common enemy, we -have the less need to have an enemy in our bowels. - -It was a great argument some people used against suppressing the old -money, that it was a time of war, and it was too great a risk for the -nation to run; if we should not master it, we should be undone. And -yet the sequel proved the hazard was not so great but it might be -mastered, and the success was answerable. The suppressing the -Dissenters is not a harder work nor a work of less necessity to the -public. We can never enjoy a settled, uninterrupted union and -tranquillity in this nation till the spirit of Whiggism, faction, and -schism is melted down like the old money. - -To talk of the difficulty is to frighten ourselves with chimeras and -notions of a powerful party, which are indeed a party without power. -Difficulties often appear greater at a distance than when they are -searched into with judgment and distinguished from the vapours and -shadows that attend them. - -We are not to be frightened with it; this age is wiser than that by -all our own experience and theirs too. King Charles the First had -early suppressed this party if he had taken more deliberate measures. -In short, it is not worth arguing to talk of their arms. Their -Monmouths, and Shaftesburys, and Argyles are gone; their Dutch -sanctuary is at an end; Heaven has made way for their destruction, and -if we do not close with the Divine occasion, we are to blame -ourselves, and may remember that we had once an opportunity to serve -the Church of England by extirpating her implacable enemies, and -having let slip the minute that Heaven presented, may experimentally -complain, _Post est occasio calva_. - -Here are some popular objections in the way:-- - -As first, the Queen has promised them to continue them in their -tolerated liberty, and has told us she will be a religious observer of -her word. - -What Her Majesty will do we cannot help; but what, as head of the -Church, she ought to do, is another case. Her Majesty has promised to -protect and defend the Church of England, and if she can not -effectually do that without the destruction of the Dissenters, she -must of course dispense with one promise to comply with another. But -to answer this cavil more effectually: Her Majesty did never promise -to maintain the toleration to the destruction of the Church; but it is -upon supposition that it may be compatible with the well-being and -safety of the Church, which she had declared she would take especial -care of. Now if these two interests clash, it is plain Her Majesty's -intentions are to uphold, protect, defend, and establish the Church, -and this we conceive is impossible. - -Perhaps it may be said that the Church is in no immediate danger from -the Dissenters, and therefore it is time enough. But this is a weak -answer. - -For first, if a danger be real, the distance of it is no argument -against, but rather a spur to quicken us to prevention, lest it be too -late hereafter. - -And secondly, here is the opportunity, and the only one perhaps that -ever the Church had, to secure herself and destroy her enemies. - -The representatives of the nation have now an opportunity; the time is -come which all good men have wished for, that the gentlemen of England -may serve the Church of England. Now they are protected and encouraged -by a Church of England Queen. - -What will you do for your sister in the day that she shall be spoken -for? - -If ever you will establish the best Christian Church in the world; if -ever you will suppress the spirit of enthusiasm; if ever you will free -the nation from the viperous brood that have so long sucked the blood -of their mother; if ever you will leave your posterity free from -faction and rebellion, this is the time. This is the time to pull up -this heretical weed of sedition that has so long disturbed the peace -of our Church and poisoned the good corn. - -But, says another hot and cold objector, this is renewing fire and -faggot, reviving the act _De Heretico Comburendo_; this will be -cruelty in its nature, and barbarous to all the world. - -I answer, it is cruelty to kill a snake or a toad in cold blood, but -the poison of their nature makes it a charity to our neighbours to -destroy those creatures, not for any personal injury received, but for -prevention; not for the evil they have done, but the evil they may do. - -Serpents, toads, vipers, &c., are noxious to the body, and poison the -sensitive life; these poison the soul, corrupt our posterity, ensnare -our children, destroy the vitals of our happiness, our future -felicity, and contaminate the whole mass. - -Shall any law be given to such wild creatures? Some beasts are for -sport, and the huntsmen give them advantages of ground; but some are -knocked on the head by all possible ways of violence and surprise. - -I do not prescribe fire and faggot, but, as Scipio said of Carthage, -_Delenda est Carthago_. They are to be rooted out of this nation, if -ever we will live in peace, serve God, or enjoy our own. As for the -manner, I leave it to those hands who have a right to execute God's -justice on the nation's and the Church's enemies. - -But if we must be frighted from this justice under the specious -pretences and odious sense of cruelty, nothing will be effected: it -will be more barbarous to our own children and dear posterity when -they shall reproach their fathers, as we do ours, and tell us, "You -had an opportunity to root out this cursed race from the world under -the favour and protection of a true English queen; and out of your -foolish pity you spared them, because, forsooth, you would not be -cruel; and now our Church is suppressed and persecuted, our religion -trampled under foot, our estates plundered, our persons imprisoned and -dragged to jails, gibbets, and scaffolds: your sparing this Amalekite -race is our destruction, your mercy to them proves cruelty to your -poor posterity." - -How just will such reflections be when our posterity shall fall under -the merciless clutches of this uncharitable generation, when our -Church shall be swallowed up in schism, faction, enthusiasm, and -confusion; when our Government shall be devolved upon foreigners, and -our monarchy dwindled into a republic. - -It would be more rational for us, if we must spare this generation, to -summon our own to a general massacre, and as we have brought them into -the world free, send them out so, and not betray them to destruction -by our supine negligence, and then cry, "It is mercy." - -Moses was a merciful, meek man, and yet with what fury did he run -through the camp, and cut the throats of three-and-thirty thousand of -his dear Israelites that were fallen into idolatry. What was the -reason? It was mercy to the rest to make these examples, to prevent -the destruction of the whole army. - -How many millions of future souls we save from infection and delusion -if the present race of poisoned spirits were purged from the face of -the land! - -It is vain to trifle in this matter, the light, foolish handling of -them by mulcts, fines, &c.,--it is their glory and their advantage. If -the gallows instead of the Counter, and the galleys instead of the -fines, were the reward of going to a conventicle, to preach or hear, -there would not be so many sufferers. The spirit of martyrdom is over; -they that will go to church to be chosen sheriffs and mayors would go -to forty churches rather than be hanged. - -If one severe law were made and punctually executed, that whoever was -found at a conventicle should be banished the nation and the preacher -be hanged, we should soon see an end of the tale. They would all come -to church, and one age would make us all one again. - -To talk of five shillings a month for not coming to the sacrament, and -one shilling per week for not coming to church, this is such a way of -converting people as never was known; this is selling them a liberty -to transgress for so much money. If it be not a crime, why don't we -give them full license? And if it be, no price ought to compound for -the committing it, for that is selling a liberty to people to sin -against God and the Government. - -If it be a crime of the highest consequence both against the peace and -welfare of the nation, the glory of God, the good of the Church, and -the happiness of the soul, let us rank it among capital offences, and -let it receive a punishment in proportion to it. - -We hang men for trifles, and banish them for things not worth naming; -but an offence against God and the Church, against the welfare of the -world and the dignity of religion, shall be bought off for five -shillings! This is such a shame to a Christian Government that it is -with regret I transmit it to posterity. - -If men sin against God, affront His ordinances, rebel against His -Church, and disobey the precepts of their superiors, let them suffer -as such capital crimes deserve. So will religion flourish, and this -divided nation be once again united. - -And yet the title of barbarous and cruel will soon be taken off from -this law too. I am not supposing that all the Dissenters in England -should be hanged or banished, but, as in cases of rebellions and -insurrections, if a few of the ringleaders suffer, the multitude are -dismissed; so, a few obstinate people being made examples, there is no -doubt but the severity of the law would find a stop in the compliance -of the multitude. - -To make the reasonableness of this matter out of question, and more -unanswerably plain, let us examine for what it is that this nation is -divided into parties and factions, and let us see how they can justify -a separation, or we of the Church of England can justify our bearing -the insults and inconveniences of the party. - -One of their leading pastors,[31] and a man of as much learning as -most among them, in his answer to a pamphlet, entitled "An Inquiry -into the Occasional Conformity," has these words, p. 27, "Do the -religion of the Church and the meeting-houses make two religions? -Wherein do they differ? The substance of the same religion is common -to them both; and the modes and accidents are the things in which only -they differ." P. 28: "Thirty-nine articles are given us for the -summary of our religion; thirty-six contain the substance of it, -wherein we agree; three, the additional appendices, about which we -have some differences." - -Now, if as by their own acknowledgment the Church of England is a true -Church, and the difference between them is only in a few modes and -accidents, why should we expect that they will suffer galleys, -corporeal punishment, and banishment for these trifles? There is no -question but they will be wiser; even their own principles will not -bear them out in it; they will certainly comply with the laws and with -reason; and though at the first severity they may seem hard, the next -age will feel nothing of it; the contagion will be rooted out; the -disease being cured, there will be no need of the operation; but if -they should venture to transgress and fall into the pit, all the world -must condemn their obstinacy, as being without ground from their own -principles. - -Thus the pretence of cruelty will be taken off, and the party actually -suppressed, and the disquiets they have so often brought upon the -nation prevented. - -Their numbers and their wealth make them haughty, and that is so far -from being an argument to persuade us to forbear them, that it is a -warning to us, without any delay, to reconcile them to the unity of -the Church or remove them from us. - -At present, Heaven be praised, they are not so formidable as they have -been, and it is our own fault if ever we suffer them to be so. -Providence and the Church of England seem to join in this particular, -that now the destroyers of the nation's peace may be overturned, and -to this end the present opportunity seems to be put into our hands. - -To this end her present Majesty seems reserved to enjoy the crown, -that the ecclesiastic as well as civil rights of the nation may be -restored by her hand. To this end the face of affairs have received -such a turn in the process of a few months as never has been before; -the leading men of the nation, the universal cry of the people, the -unanimous request of the clergy, agree in this, that the deliverance -of our Church is at hand. For this end has Providence given us such a -Parliament, such a Convocation, such a gentry, and such a Queen as we -never had before. And what may be the consequences of a neglect of -such opportunities? The succession of the crown has but a dark -prospect; another Dutch turn may make the hopes of it ridiculous and -the practice impossible. Be the house of our future princes never so -well inclined, they will be foreigners, and many years will be spent -in suiting the genius of strangers to this crown and the interests of -the nation; and how many ages it may be before the English throne be -filled with so much zeal and can dour, so much tenderness and hearty -affection to the Church as we see it now covered with, who can -imagine? - -It is high time, then, for the friends of the Church of England to -think of building up and establishing her in such a manner that she -may be no more invaded by foreigners nor divided by factions, schisms, -and error. - -If this could be done by gentle and easy methods, I should be glad; -but the wound is corroded, the vitals begin to mortify, and nothing -but amputation of members can complete the cure; all the ways of -tenderness and compassion, all persuasive arguments, have been made -use of in vain. - -The humour of the Dissenters has so increased among the people, that -they hold the Church in defiance, and the house of God is an -abomination among them; nay, they have brought up their posterity in -such prepossessed aversions to our holy religion, that the ignorant -mob think we are all idolaters and worshippers of Baal, and account it -a sin to come within the walls of our churches. - -The primitive Christians were not more shy of a heathen temple or of -meat offered to idols, nor the Jews of swine's flesh, than some of our -Dissenters are of the Church, and the divine service solemnised -therein. - -This obstinacy must be rooted out with the profession of it; while the -generation are less at liberty daily to affront God Almighty and -dishonour His holy worship, we are wanting in our duty to God and our -mother, the Church of England. - -How can we answer it to God, to the Church, and to our posterity to -leave them entangled with fanaticism, error, and obstinacy in the -bowels of the nation; to leave them an enemy in their streets, that in -time may involve them in the same crimes, and endanger the utter -extirpation of religion in the nation? - -What is the difference betwixt this and being subjected to the power -of the Church of Rome, from whence we have reformed? If one be an -extreme on one hand, and one on another, it is equally destructive to -the truth to have errors settled among us, let them be of what nature -they will. - -Both are enemies of our Church and of our peace; and why should it not -be as criminal to admit an enthusiast as a Jesuit? Why should the -Papist with his seven sacraments be worse than the Quaker with no -sacraments at all? Why should religious houses be more intolerable -than meeting-houses? Alas, the Church of England! What with Popery on -one hand, and schismatics on the other, how has she been crucified -between two thieves! - -Now let us crucify the thieves. Let her foundations be established -upon the destruction of her enemies. The doors of mercy being always -open to the returning part of the deluded people, let the obstinate be -ruled with the rod of iron. - -Let all true sons of so holy and oppressed a mother, exasperated by -her afflictions, harden their hearts against those who have oppressed -her. - -And may God Almighty put it into the hearts of all the friends of -truth to lift up a standard against pride and Antichrist, that the -posterity of the sons of error may be rooted out from the face of this -land for ever. - - - -FOOTNOTES - -[Footnote 1: _Hours in a Library_.] - -[Footnote 2: Wilson's _Memoirs of Defoe_, London, 1830, III., p. 429.] - -[Footnote 3: Defoe mentions the letter in his _Review_ for August -11th, 1705.] - -[Footnote 4: I was not called Colonel Jacque as at London, but -Colonel, and they did not know me by any other name.] - -[Footnote 5: He did not now talk quite so blindly and childishly as -when he was a boy, and when the custom-house gentleman talked to him -about his names.] - -[Footnote 6: Here he showed him the horsewhip that was given him with -his new office.] - -[Footnote 7: So the negroes call the owner of the plantation, or at -least so they called him, because he was a great man in the country, -having three or four large plantations.] - -[Footnote 8: To be drunk in a negro is to be mad; for when they get -rum they are worse than raving, and fit to do any manner of mischief.] - -[Footnote 9: He understood the plot, and took the opportunity to tell -him that, to see what he would say.] - -[Footnote 10: He understood him; he meant he would beg your honour for -me, that I might not be hanged for offending you.] - -[Footnote 11: This old proverb was quoted by Robert Burton in his -"Anatomy of Melancholy" (1621), "Where God hath a temple the Devil -hath a chapel" (Part III. sc. iv. subs. 1). It was also No. 670 in -George Herbert's "Jacula Prudentium," first published in 1640, where -it ran, "No sooner is a temple built to God but the Devil builds a -chapel hard by." Defoe was the first rhymer of the proverb, and the -rider to it is his own.] - -[Footnote 12: William the Conqueror. [D.F.]] - -[Footnote 13: Or archer. [D.F.]] - -[Footnote 14: Dr. Sherlock, _de facto_. [D.F.]] - -[Footnote 15: K. J. I. [D.F.]] - -[Footnote 16: K. C. II. [D.F.]] - -[Footnote 17: Lady Castlemaine, of the Italian-French family of -Villars, was first known to Charles II. as Mrs. Palmer. Afterwards her -husband was made Earl of Castlemaine, and in 1668 she was made Duchess -of Cleveland. Of the cost of this woman Andrew Marvell wrote:--"They -have signed and sealed ten thousand pounds a year more to the Duchess -of Cleveland; who has likewise near ten thousand pounds a year out of -the new farm of the country excise of beer and ale; five thousand -pounds a year out of the Post Office; and, they say, the reversion of -all the King's leases, the reversion of all places in the Custom -House, the green-wax, and, indeed, what not? All promotions, spiritual -and temporal, pass under her cognisance," &c. Charles II. had by her -five children.] - -[Footnote 18: Louise Rene de Puencovet de Queroualle came over to -Dover as a maid of honour, and was created Duchess of Portsmouth in -August 1673. She cost as much as Lady Castlemaine. Her son, Charles -Lennox, was made Duke of Richmond. The Duchess of Portsmouth was -living when this satire appeared. She died in 1734.] - -[Footnote 19: Frederick de Schomberg, an old favourite of King -William's, was made Duke of Schomberg on the 10th of April 1689. -Another friend of the King's, William Bentinck, was created Earl of -Portland on the 9th of April 1689. His son and heir was raised to a -dukedom in 1716.] - -[Footnote 20: The drunkard's name for Canary. [D.F.]] - -[Footnote 21: "Mobile," applied to the movable, unstable populace, was -first abridged to "mob" in Charles the Second's time.] - -[Footnote 22: The Devil.--[D.F.]] - -[Footnote 23: Dating from 1688-89, the Revolution and accession of -King William III.] - -[Footnote 24: Charles I., James II., William III.] - -[Footnote 25: On the 16th of July, 1604, the Puritan clergy within the -Church were required to conform on or before the 30th of November on -pain of expulsion. On the 4th of December Whitgift's successor, -Richard Bancroft, was consecrated Archbishop of Canterbury. He -strictly carried out this order, and declared every man, cleric or -lay, to be excommunicated who questioned the complete accordance of -the Prayer Book with the Word of God. On the 6th of September, 1620, -the _Mayflower_ left England with the first freight of English -families that sought freedom of worship where they came to be the -founders of a New England across the sea.] - -[Footnote 26: Charles II. unconstitutionally suspended the penal laws -against nonconformists and recusants in 1679.] - -[Footnote 27: The story of the Rye House Plot was used for bringing -Algernon Sidney and Lord William Russell to the scaffold.] - -[Footnote 28: James II. unconstitutionally suspended the penal laws -against nonconformists and recusants by Declarations of Indulgence in -1686 and 1688.] - -[Footnote 29: The oath taken by Tories against the legal right of the -Pretender to the crown was said to reserve the question of his divine -right of succession. Divine right was unchangeable, but laws were -liable to change--and so far as they go, what to-day is treason may be -loyalty to-morrow.] - -[Footnote 30: The Revocation of the Edict of Nantes was signed on the -17th of October 1685. All Protestant churches were to be demolished, -and their ministers who would not be converted were to leave France -within a fortnight. Fugitive reformers who did not return within four -months would have their property confiscated. Lay Reformers were -forbidden to leave France, on pain of the galleys for men and -confiscation of body and goods for women. Those who remained were -exposed to cruelties of the soldiery. The King thought that his way of -conversion by dragoons had reduced a million and a half of French -heretics to twelve or fifteen thousand; but between the Revocation and -the time when Defoe wrote this pamphlet, it has been estimated that -250,000 French Protestants left France to establish homes in England -and elsewhere.] - -[Footnote 31: John Howe, in his answer to Defoe's request for a -statement of opinion from him on Occasional Conformity.] - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The History and Remarkable Life of the -Truly Honourable Colonel Jacque, Commonly called Colonel Jack, by Daniel Defoe - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK COLONEL JACK *** - -***** This file should be named 52603-8.txt or 52603-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/2/6/0/52603/ - -Produced by Charles Bowen from page scans provided by -Google Books (Robarts - University of Toronto) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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P. R. (George Payne Rainsford) James"> - -<meta name="Publisher" content="George Routledge and Sons Limited"> -<meta name="Date" content="1903"> -<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=UTF-8"> -<style type="text/css"> - -body { margin-left: 20%; - margin-right: 20%; - text-align: justify } - -h1, h2, h3, h4, h5 {text-align: center; font-style: normal; font-weight: -normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: .5em; margin-bottom: .5em;} - -h1 {font-size: 300%; - margin-top: 0.6em; - margin-bottom: 0.6em; - letter-spacing: 0.12em; - word-spacing: 0.2em; - text-indent: 0em;} -h2 {font-size: 175%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} -h3 {font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em;} -h4 {font-size: 120%;} -h5 {font-size: 110%;} - -div.chapter {page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em;} - -p {text-indent: 1em; - margin-top: 0.25em; - margin-bottom: 0.25em; } - -.p2 {margin-top: 2em;} - -p.poem {text-indent: 0%; - margin-left: 10%; - font-size: 90%; - margin-top: 1em; - margin-bottom: 1em; } - -p.letter {text-indent: 0%; - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; - margin-top: 1em; - margin-bottom: 1em; } - -.center {margin: auto; text-align:center; margin-top:24pt; margin-bottom:24pt} - - - -p.right {text-align:right; margin-right:20%;} - -p.continue {text-indent: 0in; margin-top:9pt;} - -figcenter {margin:auto; text-align:center; margin-top:9pt;} - -.t0 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:0em; margin-right:0em;} -.t1 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:1em; margin-right:0em;} -.t2 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:2em; margin-right:0em;} -.t3 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:3em; margin-right:0em;} -.t4 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:4em; margin-right:0em;} -.t5 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:5em; margin-right:0em;} - - -h1,h2,h3,h4,h5 {text-align: center;} - -span.sc {font-variant: small-caps; font-size:110%;} -span.sc2 {font-variant: small-caps; font-size:90%;} - -hr.W10 {width:10%; color:black; margin-top:0pt; margin-bottom:0pt} - -hr.W20 {width:20%; color:black; margin-top:12pt; margin-bottom:12pt} - -hr.W50 {width:50%; color:black;} -hr.W90 {width:90%; color:black;} - -p.hang1 {margin-left:3em; text-indent:-3em;} -p.hang2 {margin-left:3em; text-indent:0em;} - -a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} -a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} -a:hover {color:red} - -</style> - -</head> - -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The History and Remarkable Life of the -Truly Honourable Colonel Jacque, Commonly called Colonel Jack, by Daniel Defoe - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The History and Remarkable Life of the Truly Honourable Colonel Jacque, Commonly called Colonel Jack - -Author: Daniel Defoe - -Release Date: July 18, 2016 [EBook #52603] -Last updated: August 28, 2019 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK COLONEL JACK *** - - - - -Produced by Charles Bowen from page scans provided by -Google Books (Robarts - University of Toronto) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<p class="hang1">Transcriber's Notes:<br>1. Page scan source: The Web Archive<br>https://archive.org/details/historyandremark00defouoft<br>(Robarts - University of Toronto)</p> - -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> - -<h1><small>The History and Remarkable Life<br> -of the truly honourable</small><br> -Colonel Jacque<br> -<small>Commonly call’d<br> -Colonel Jack</small></h1> - -<h2>by Daniel Defoe</h2> - -<p class="center">With the author’s preface, and an introduction by<br> -<span class="sc">G. H. Maynadier, Ph. D</span>.</p> - -<h5>DEPARTMENT OF ENGLISH, HARVARD UNIVERSITY</h5> -<br> -<br> -<h4>National Library Company<br> -<span style="font-size:smaller">New York</span></h4> -<br> -<br> -<h4>Edition De Luxe</h4> -<h5>LIMITED TO ONE THOUSAND SETS</h5> -<br> -<br> -<h5>COPYRIGHT, 1904, BY<br> -<span style="font-size:larger">THE UNIVERSITY PRESS</span></h5> -<br> -<br> -<p class="center"><a name="div1_01" href="#div1Ref_01"><img src="images/frontispiece.png" alt="Jacque summoned"><br> -Jacque is summoned before his master.</a></p> - -<table cellpadding="10" style="width:80%; margin-left:10%; font-weight:bold"> -<colgroup><col style="width:100%; text-align:left"></colgroup> -<tr> -<td colspan="2"><h3>CONTENTS</h3></td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div2Ref_Introduction" href="#div2_Introduction">Introduction</a></td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div2Ref_Preface" href="#div2_Preface">Author’s Preface</a></td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div2Ref_Life" href="#div2_Life">The Life of Colonel Jacque</a></td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div2Ref_True-born" href="#div2_True-born">The True-born Englishman</a></td> -</tr><tr> -<td><a name="div2Ref_Dissenters" href="#div2_Dissenters">The Shortest Way with -the Dissenters</a></td> -</tr></table> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>ILLUSTRATIONS</h4> -<br> - -<h4>COLONEL JACQUE</h4> - -<h4><span class="sc">PART I</span></h4> -<br> -<p><a name="div1Ref_01" href="#div1_01">Jacque is summoned before his master. <i> -Frontispiece</i></a></p> - -<p><a name="div1Ref_02" href="#div1_02">Escaping with the purloined horse.</a></p> -<br> - -<h4><span class="sc">PART II</span></h4> -<br> -<p><a name="div1Ref_03" href="#div1_03">Colonel Jacque and the lady</a></p> - -<p><a name="div1Ref_04" href="#div1_04">Colonel Jacque’s arrival is announced</a></p> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h3><a name="div2_Introduction" href="#div2Ref_Introduction">INTRODUCTION</a></h3> - -<p>Smollett bears witness to the popularity of Defoe’s <i>Colonel Jacque</i>. -In the sixty-second chapter of <i>Roderick Random</i>, the hero of that -novel is profoundly impressed by the genius of the disappointed poet, -Melopoyn, the story of whose tragedy is Smollett’s acrimonious version -of the fate of his own first literary effort, <i>The Regicide</i>. Melopoyn -tells Random that while waiting in vain for his tragedy to be -produced, he wrote some pastorals which were rejected by one -bookseller after another. A first said merely that the pastorals would -not serve; a second advised Melopoyn to offer in their place something -“satirical or luscious;” and a third asked if he “had got never a -piece of secret history, thrown into a series of letters, or a volume -of adventures, such as those of Robinson Crusoe and Colonel Jack, or a -collection of conundrums, wherewith to entertain the plantations?” -Smollett probably wrote this passage some time in the year 1747, for -<i>Roderick Random</i> was published in January, 1748. It was twenty-four -years earlier—December twentieth, 1722—that <i>Colonel Jacque</i> had -been published, or, to give it the name set forth by its flaunting -title-page:—<i>The History and Remarkable Life of the truly Honourable -Colonel Jacque, vulgarly called Col. Jack, who was born a Gentleman; -put ’Prentice to a Pickpocket; was six and twenty years a Thief, and -then kidnapped to Virginia; came back a Merchant; was five times -married to four Whores; went into the Wars, behaved bravely, got -Preferment, was made Colonel of a Regiment; came over, and fled with -the Chevalier, is still abroad Completing a Life of Wonders, and -resolves to die a General</i>. Surely a book for servants, readers of our -time will be apt to think on looking at this title-page; and yet -<i>Colonel Jacque</i> is found to-day in many a gentleman’s library. This -is no reason, though, why it should still retain considerable -popularity in Smollett’s day. In less time after their appearance, -some books which live forever in literature have been forgotten by the -great mass of readers. What was it now that kept <i>Colonel Jacque</i> -popular a quarter of a century after its publication?</p> - -<p>It can hardly be the story which maintained its popularity, for the -inorganic tale is of the simplest kind. Jacque, like Captain -Singleton, and Moll Flanders in her childhood, had almost no knowledge -of his parents. He was brought up by a woman who was well paid for -taking the child off his parents’ hands—a woman who, though seemingly -an abandoned character, nevertheless showed the boy kindness. When he -was about ten, she died. Then followed the chequered career sketched -in the title given above. Jacque, trained by a comrade as a -pickpocket, became in time a thief on a larger scale, but not a thief -quite destitute of good feeling. After he had robbed a poor woman of -Kentish Town of 22<i>s</i>. 6½<i>d</i>., his conscience was never easy till he -paid her back the money, a year later; and through all his criminal -life, he remembered that his foster-mother had told him he came of -gentle blood, and accordingly should remember always to be a -gentleman. The hope of being a gentleman was before him, even when he -was kidnapped to Virginia and sold into bondage. There he became such -a favourite of his master that in time he was able to set up as a -planter on his own account. From Virginia he returned to England, and -thence, after the unhappy matrimonial ventures mentioned in the title, -he went back to Virginia, where at last he married the wife whom he -had previously divorced.</p> - -<p>Nor could the character of the hero have had much to do in keeping -<i>Colonel Jacque</i> popular. In spite of his matrimonial achievements, in -spite of the affection which he rouses in his American employer and -his slaves both, Colonel Jacque is without any attraction which a -reader can perceive to-day. Like most of Defoe’s characters, he is -without fine feeling; he is always looking out for the main chance. -His chief interest is commerce; he is a typical “Anglo-Saxon” trader. -There are thousands and thousands of such clever, prosy, cold-blooded -business-men in the United States to-day, and in the British colonies, -and in the United Kingdom. Though Defoe’s biographers are divided as -to whether or not he shared their mercantile cleverness, there is no -doubt that Defoe was heartily in sympathy with such men; and his -interest in recounting Colonel Jacque’s commercial ventures shows him -to have been what I have already called him—the Yankee trader of the -Queen Anne writers.</p> - -<p>It was the story of Colonel Jacque’s successful trading, no doubt, -which had a large part in sustaining the popularity of his <i>History</i>. -But even more important in this respect, was that which we have seen -to be the vital force in all Defoe’s fiction—circumstantial -vividness. This is less striking in the later pages than in the -earlier. The vividness ceases to a large extent after Jacque goes to -America, for Defoe did not know America so well as he knew his -England. Yet even when the scene shifts to the further side of the -ocean, Defoe makes no blunders; nothing impossible occurs; his -geography is correct. In <i>Colonel Jacque</i>, perhaps more than anywhere -else, we see that interest of Defoe’s in distant British possessions -which made him, as I have said, one of the “imperialists” of his time. -Even so, what vividness there is in the American scenes is too largely -commercial. Not many people, other than small traders or would-be -traders, could ever have read with interest such a paragraph as the -following:—</p> - -<p>“With the sloop I sent letters to my wife and to my chief manager with -orders to load her back, as I there directed, viz., that she should -have two hundred barrels of flour, fifty barrels of pease; and, to -answer my other views, I ordered a hundred bales to be made up of all -sorts of European goods, such as not my own warehouses only would -supply, but such as they could be supplied with in other warehouses -where I knew they had credit for anything.”</p> - -<p>Very different are the earlier pages which deal with Jacque’s -adventures as a poor criminal boy in England. Here Defoe was on ground -that he knew thoroughly. Sir Leslie Stephen<a name="div4Ref_01" href="#div4_01"><sup>[1]</sup></a> -has observed that Defoe -passed beyond the bounds of probability when he made his hero, an -almost elderly man writing his memoirs in Mexico, remember the details -of his boyish thieving with marvellous exactness. Barring this -improbability—one by the way which you are not aware of while you -read the scenes in question, for you do not know how long a time will -elapse before the hero begins to record his experiences—the -verisimilitude of the first part of <i>Colonel Jacque</i> could not be -surpassed. Moreover, in picturing the life of the poor, neglected boy, -Defoe is unusually sympathetic. And so in the early pages of <i>Colonel -Jacque</i>, more than anywhere else, is found the power of the story, the -secret of its popularity when Smollett was writing <i>Roderick Random</i>, -and the secret of its appeal to readers to-day. Lamb was hardly -overstating the case when he declared, “The beginning of ‘Colonel -Jack’ is the most affecting, natural picture of a young thief that was -ever drawn.”<a name="div4Ref_02" href="#div4_02"><sup>[2]</sup></a></p> - -<p class="p2"> -At the end of the second volume of <i>Colonel Jacque</i> will be found two -of Defoe’s earlier political satires:—<i>The True-Born Englishman</i> and -<i>The Shortest Way with the Dissenters</i>. The former, the most -celebrated piece of verse which Defoe wrote, was published in January, -1701. The circumstances which led to its publication are set forth by -the author himself in his autobiographical sketch of 1715, <i>An Appeal -to Honour and Justice</i>.</p> - -<p>On the first of August, 1700, according to his statement, there -appeared “a vile abhorred pamphlet, in very ill verse, written by one -Mr. Tutchin, and called <i>The Foreigners</i>; in which the author . . . -fell personally upon the King himself, and then upon the Dutch Nation. -And after having reproached his Majesty with crimes that his worst -enemy could not think of without horror, he sums up all in the odious -name of <i>Foreigner</i>. This filled me with a kind of rage against the -book, and gave birth to a trifle which I never could hope should have -met with so general an acceptance as it did; I mean <i>The True-Born -Englishman</i>.”</p> - -<p>The reason for Tutchin’s pamphlet was that William III., never loved -by the English, became less and less popular after the death of Queen -Mary. A Dutchman, he was supposed to have the interests of Holland -more at heart than those of England. This supposition was strengthened -by the fact that he took no Englishmen into his confidence as he did -his old and trusted Dutch friends. These, naturally, shared his -unpopularity, especially the Duke of Schomberg and the King’s -favourite minister, William Bentinck, created Earl of Portland, both -of whom are mentioned by Defoe in his <i>True-Born Englishman</i>.</p> - -<p>Defoe, in this reply to Tutchin’s pamphlet, sought to prove that the -king and his foreign friends had as good right to the esteem of the -English as any patriots in the history of the country. In the first -part of the “poem,” as Defoe called his satire, he showed that -William, with his Dutch blood, was as much entitled to the name of -Englishman as any of his subjects, who came of mixed British, Pictish, -Roman, Saxon, Danish, and Norman blood. In short, Defoe made the -English out a hybrid race, and with excellent good sense showed that -their national vigour was due largely to their being so. Much of what -he said might well be said to-day of the people of the United States, -as for instance, the following from Defoe’s explanatory preface:—</p> - -<p>“The multitudes of foreign nations who have taken sanctuary here, have -been the greatest additions to the wealth and strength of the nation; -the essential whereof is the number of its inhabitants. Nor would this -nation ever have arrived to the degree of wealth and glory it now -boasts of, if the addition of foreign nations . . . had not been -helpful to it. This is so plain, that he who is ignorant of it is too -dull to be talked with.”</p> - -<p>The other side to Defoe’s picture (and there was another side then as -now) is shown in verses which, with a few changes, would likewise be -applicable to the United States to-day. Defoe is trying to prove that -even with lapse of years the English race remains hybrid.</p> - -<p class="poem"> -“And lest by length of time it be pretended<br> -The climate may this modern breed have mended,<br> -Wise Providence, to keep us where we are,<br> -Mixes us daily with exceeding care.<br> -We have been Europe’s sink, the jakes where she<br> -Voids all her offal outcast progeny.<br> -From our fifth Henry’s time, the strolling bands<br> -Of banish’d fugitives from neighb’ring lands<br> -Have here a certain sanctuary found:<br> -Th’ eternal refuge of the vagabond,<br> -Where, in but half a common age of time,<br> -Borr’wing new blood and manners from the clime,<br> -Proudly they learn all mankind to contemn,<br> -And all their race are true-born Englishmen.”<br> -</p> - -<p>In the second part of the satire, Defoe tries to describe the nature -of the English, their pride, and their ingratitude to their -benefactors. Among the stanzas in which he hits off the faults of his -countrymen, the following, more true than grammatical, is among the -most forcible:—</p> - -<p class="poem"> -“Surly to strangers, froward to their friend;<br> -Submit to love with a reluctant mind;<br> -Resolved to be ungrateful and unkind.<br> -If by necessity reduced to ask,<br> -The giver has the difficultest task;<br> -For what’s bestow’d they awkwardly receive,<br> -And always take less freely than they give.<br> -The obligation is their highest grief;<br> -And never love, where they accept relief.<br> -So sullen in their sorrows, that ’tis known,<br> -They’ll rather die than their afflictions own:<br> -And if relieved, it is too often true,<br> -That they’ll abuse their benefactors too;<br> -For in distress their haughty stomach’s such,<br> -They hate to see themselves obliged too much,<br> -Seldom contented, often in the wrong;<br> -Hard to be pleased at all, and never long.”<br> -</p> - -<p> -Defoe’s satire was a success. Written, as it is, in rough verse, at -times little better than doggerel, it is yet always vigorous and -interesting. To-day, after a lapse of two hundred years, no verse from -Defoe’s pen is so readable. That it was effective in accomplishing the -purpose for which it was composed, is proved by the fact that the -people, taking the satire good-naturedly, experienced a revulsion of -feeling towards the king and his Dutch friends. It was natural that -the piece should bring Defoe the increased regard of the king, whose -favour he had already to some extent enjoyed. “This poem was the -occasion of my being known to His Majesty,” Defoe wrote in his <i>Appeal -to Honour and Justice</i>; and “I was afterwards received by him.”</p> - -<p class="p2"> -Concluding the second volume of <i>Colonel Jacque</i> will be found the -ironical <i>Shortest Way with the Dissenters</i>, which placed Defoe in the -pillory and in prison. It was written in 1702, the first year of -Anne’s reign, when the strong Tory influence in the government seemed -likely to bring back the persecution of Nonconformists which had -ceased in the time of William. From the early summer, when Dr. -Sacheverell preached at Oxford a most inflammatory sermon against the -Dissenters, High Church feeling against them grew stronger and -stronger. Finally Defoe decided that the best service he could render -them was to show the views of the High Church party in all their -extreme savageness. The result was the pamphlet, <i>The Shortest Way -with the Dissenters; or, Proposals for the Establishment of the -Church</i>, which appeared on the first of December, 1702.</p> - -<p>Defoe was so successful in imagining High Tory sentiments in his -pamphlet, that it was received with indignation by the Dissenters -themselves and with acclaim by the extreme Churchmen. “I join with” -the author “in all he says,” wrote one of them,<a name="div4Ref_03" href="#div4_03"><sup>[3]</sup></a> -to a friend who had -sent him the pamphlet, “and have such a value for the book, that, next -to the Holy Bible and the sacred Comments, I take it for the most -valuable piece I have.” Naturally there was a storm when the truth was -discovered and the High Tories found out that what they had praised -was ironical. They were immediately shamed into declaring the pamphlet -a dangerous libel, intended to stir up the Dissenters to civil war. -Defoe’s bookseller and printer were accordingly arrested, and a reward -was offered for his apprehension. He gave himself up, was tried, and -sentenced to pay a fine of two hundred marks, to stand three times in -the pillory, and to go to prison for the Queen’s pleasure. How Defoe -converted his punishment in the pillory into a triumph, and how -profitably he employed his time during his imprisonment, have been -already told in the introduction to <i>Robinson Crusoe</i>.</p> - -<p style="text-indent:50%"><span class="sc">G. H. Maynadier</span>.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h3><a name="div2_Preface" href="#div2Ref_Preface">AUTHOR’S PREFACE</a></h3> - -<p><span class="sc">Sir</span>,—It is so customary to write prefaces to all books of this kind, -to introduce them with the more advantage into the world, that I -cannot omit it, though on that account ’tis thought this work needs a -preface less than any that ever went before it. The pleasant and -delightful part speaks for itself; the useful and instructive is so -large, and capable of so many improvements, that it would employ a -book large as itself to make improvements suitable to the vast variety -of the subject.</p> - -<p>Here’s room for just and copious observations on the blessings and -advantages of a sober and well-governed education, and the ruin of so -many thousands of youths of all kinds in this nation for want of it; -also, how much public schools and charities might be improved to -prevent the destruction of so, many unhappy children as in this town -are every year bred up for the gallows.</p> - -<p>The miserable condition of unhappy children, many of whose natural -tempers are docible, and would lead them to learn the best things -rather than the worst, is truly deplorable, and is abundantly seen in -the history of this man’s childhood; where, though circumstances -formed him by necessity to be a thief, a strange rectitude of -principles remained with him, and made him early abhor the worst part -of his trade, and at last wholly leave it off. If he had come into the -world with the advantage of education, and been well instructed how to -improve the generous principles he had in him, what a man might he not -have been!</p> - -<p>The various turns of his fortunes in the world make a delightful field -for the reader to wander in; a garden where he may gather wholesome -and medicinal fruits, none noxious or poisonous; where he will see -virtue and the ways of wisdom everywhere applauded, honoured, -encouraged, rewarded; vice and all kinds of wickedness attended with -misery, many kinds of infelicities; and at last, sin and shame going -together, the persons meeting with reproof and reproach, and the -crimes with abhorrence.</p> - -<p>Every wicked reader will here be encouraged to a change, and it will -appear that the best and only good end of an impious, misspent life is -repentance; that in this there is comfort, peace, and oftentimes hope, -and that the penitent shall be returned like the prodigal, <i>and his -latter end be better than his beginning</i>.</p> - -<p>While these things, and such as these, are the ends and designs of the -whole book, I think I need not say one word more as an apology for any -part of the rest—no, nor for the whole. If discouraging everything -that is evil, and encouraging everything that is virtuous and good—I -say, if these appear to be the whole scope and design of the -publishing this story, no objection can lie against it; neither is it -of the least moment to inquire whether the Colonel hath told his own -story true or not; if he has made it a History or a Parable, it will -be equally useful, and capable of doing good; and in that it -recommends itself without any introduction.—Your humble servant,</p> - -<p style="text-indent:60%"><span class="sc">The Editor</span>.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h3><a name="div2_Life" href="#div2Ref_Life">THE LIFE OF<br> -COLONEL JACQUE</a></h3> - -<p>Seeing 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 ordinarily -the fate of the clan to which I once belonged, I think my history may -find a place in the world as well as some who 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.</p> - -<p>My original may be as high as anybody’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 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 misfortune of having a child to -keep that should not be seen or heard of.</p> - -<p>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 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, he said, 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.</p> - -<p>But my disasters were not directed to end as soon as they began. It is -very seldom that the unfortunate are so but for a day; as the great -rise by degrees of greatness to the pitch of glory in which they -shine, so the miserable sink to the depth of their misery by a -continued series of disasters, and are long in the tortures and -agonies of their distressed circumstances, before a turn of fortune, -if ever such a thing happens to them, gives them a prospect of -deliverance.</p> - -<p>My nurse was as honest to the engagement she had entered into as could -be expected from one of her employment, and particularly 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 same terms.</p> - -<p>My name was John, as she told me, but neither she or I knew anything -of a surname that belonged to me; so I was left to call myself Mr. -Anything, what I pleased, as fortune and better circumstances should -give occasion.</p> - -<p>It happened that her own son (for she had a little boy of her own, -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.</p> - -<p>As we were all Johns, we were all Jacques, and soon came to be called -so; for at that part of the town where we had our breeding, viz., near -Goodman’s Fields, the Johns are generally called Jacque; 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.</p> - -<p>I was provoked at having this boy called captain, and I cried, and -told my nurse I would be called captain; for she told me I was a -gentleman, and I would be a captain, that I would. The good woman, to -keep the peace, told me, ay, ay, I was a gentleman, and therefore I -should be above a captain, for I should be a colonel, and that was a -great deal better than a captain; “for, my dear,” says she, “every -tarpauling, if he gets but to be lieutenant of a press smack, is -called captain, but colonels are soldiers, and none but gentlemen are -ever made colonels. Besides,” says she, “I have known colonels come to -be lords and generals, though they were bastards at first, and -therefore you shall be called colonel.”</p> - -<p>Well, I was hushed indeed with this for the present, but not -thoroughly pleased, till, a little while after, I heard her tell her -own boy that I was a gentleman, and therefore he must call me colonel; -at which her boy fell a-crying, and he would be called colonel. That -part pleased me to the life, that he should cry to be called colonel, -for then I 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.</p> - -<p>So here was Colonel Jacque and Captain Jacque. As for the third boy, -he was only plain Jacque for some years after, till he came to -preferment by the merit of his birth, as you shall hear in its place.</p> - -<p>We were hopeful boys, all three of us, and promised very early, by -many repeated circumstances of our lives, that we would be all rogues; -and yet I cannot say, if what I have heard of my nurse’s character be -true, but the honest woman did what she could to prevent it.</p> - -<p>Before I tell you much more of our story, it would be very proper to -give you 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 Jacques, and they shall be brief and impartial.</p> - -<p>Captain Jacque was the eldest of us all, by a whole year. He was a -squat, big, strong-made boy, and promised to be stout when grown up to -be a man, but not to be tall. His temper was sly, sullen, reserved, -malicious, revengeful; and, withal, he was brutish, bloody, and cruel -in his disposition. He was, as to manners, a mere boor, or clown, of a -carman-like breed; sharp as a street-bred boy must be, but ignorant -and unteachable from a child. He had much the nature of a bull-dog, -bold and desperate, but not generous at all. All the schoolmistresses -we went to could never make him learn—no, not so much as to make him -know his letters; and as if he was born a thief, he would steal -everything that came near him, even as soon almost as he could speak; -and that not from his mother only, but from anybody else, and from us -too that were his brethren and companions. He was an original rogue, -for he would do the foulest and most villainous things, even by his -own inclination; he had no taste or sense of being honest—no, not, I -say, to his brother rogues, which is what other thieves make a point -of honour of; I mean that of being honest to one another.</p> - -<p>The other, that is to say, the youngest of us Johns, was called Major -Jacque, by the accident following: The lady that had deposited him -with our nurse had owned to her that it was a major of the Guards that -was the father of the child, but that she was obliged to conceal his -name, and that was enough. So he was at first called John the Major, -and afterwards the Major; and at last, when we came to rove together, -Major Jacque, according to the rest, for his name was John, as I have -observed already.</p> - -<p>Major Jacque was a merry, facetious, pleasant boy, had a good share of -wit, especially off-hand-wit, as they call it; was full of jests and -good humour, and, as I often said, had something of a gentleman in -him. He had a true manly courage, feared nothing, and could look death -in the face without any hesitation; and yet, if he had the advantage, -was the most generous and most compassionate creature alive. He had -native principles of gallantry in him, without anything of the brutal -or terrible part that the captain had; and, in a word, he wanted -nothing but honesty to have made him an excellent man. He had learned -to read, as I had done; and as he talked very well, so he wrote good -sense and very handsome language, as you will see in the process of -his story.</p> - -<p>As for your humble servant, Colonel Jacque, he was a poor, unhappy, -tractable dog, willing enough, and capable too, to learn anything, if -he had had any but the devil for his schoolmaster. He set out into the -world so early, that when he began to do evil, he understood nothing -of the wickedness of it, nor what he had to expect for it. I remember -very well that when I was once carried before a justice, for a theft -which indeed I was not guilty of, and defended myself by argument, -proving the mistakes of my accusers, and how they contradicted -themselves, the justice told me it was a pity I had not been better -employed, for I was certainly better taught; in which, however, his -worship was mistaken, for I had never been taught anything but to be a -thief; except, as I said, to read and write, and that was all, before -I was ten years old; but I had a natural talent of talking, and could -say as much to the purpose as most people that had been taught no more -than I.</p> - -<p>I passed among my comrades for a bold, resolute boy, and one that -durst fight anything; but I had a different opinion of myself, and -therefore shunned fighting as much as I could, though sometimes I -ventured too, and came off well, being very strong made and nimble -withal. However, I many times brought myself off with my tongue, where -my hands would not have been sufficient, and this as well after I was -a man as while I was a boy.</p> - -<p>I was wary and dexterous at my trade, and was not so often catched 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 unhanged, as you shall hear.</p> - -<p>As for my person, while I was a dirty glass-bottle-house boy, sleeping -in the ashes, and dealing always in the street dirt, it cannot be -expected but that I looked like what I was, and so we did all; that is -to say, like a “black-your-shoes-your-honour,” a beggar-boy, a -blackguard-boy, or what you please, despicable and miserable to the -last degree; and yet I remember the people would say of me, “That boy -has a good face; if he was washed and well dressed, he would be a -good, pretty boy. Do but look; what eyes he has; what a pleasant, -smiling countenance! ’Tis a pity. I wonder what the rogue’s father and -mother was,” and the like. Then they would call me, and ask me my -name, and I would tell them my name was Jacque. “But what’s your -surname, sirrah?” says they. “I don’t know,” says I. “Who is your -father and mother?” “I have none,” said I. “What, and never had you -any?” said they. “No,” says I, “not that I know of.” Then they would -shake their heads and cry, “Poor boy!” and “’Tis a pity,” and the -like; and so let me go. But I laid up all these things in my heart.</p> - -<p>I was almost ten years old, the captain eleven, and the major about -eight, when the good woman my nurse died. Her husband was a seaman, -and had been drowned a little before in the <i>Gloucester</i> frigate, one -of the king’s ships which was cast away going to Scotland with the -Duke of York in the time of King Charles II., and the honest woman -dying very poor, the parish was obliged to bury her; when the three -young Jacques attended her corpse, and I, the colonel (for we all -passed for her own children), was chief mourner; the captain, who was -the eldest son, going back very sick.</p> - -<p>The good woman being dead, we, the three Jacques, were turned loose to -the world. As to the parish providing for us, we did not trouble -ourselves much about that; we rambled about all three together, and -the people in Rosemary Lane and Ratcliff, and that way, knowing us -pretty well, we got victuals easily enough and without much begging.</p> - -<p>For my particular part, I got some reputation for a mighty civil, -honest boy; for if I was sent off an errand, I always did it -punctually and carefully, and made haste again; and if I was trusted -with any thing, I never touched it to diminish it, but made it a point -of honour to be punctual to whatever was committed to me, though I was -as arrant a thief as any of them in all other cases.</p> - -<p>In like case, some of the poorer shopkeepers would often leave me at -their door, to look after their shops till they went up to dinner, or -till they went over the way to an alehouse, and the like, and I always -did it freely and cheerfully, and with the utmost honesty.</p> - -<p>Captain Jacque, on the contrary, a surly, ill-looking, rough boy, had -not a word in his mouth that savoured either of good manners or good -humour; he would say “Yes” and “No,” just as he was asked a question, -and that was all, but nobody got any thing from him that was obliging -in the least. If he was sent off an errand he would forget half of it, -and it may be go to play, if he met any boys, and never go at all, or -if he went, never come back with an answer, which was such a -regardless, disobliging way that nobody had a good word for him, and -everybody said he had the very look of a rogue, and would come to be -hanged. In a word, he got nothing of anybody for goodwill, but was, as -it were, obliged to turn thief for the mere necessity of bread to eat; -for if he begged, he did it with so ill a tone, rather like bidding -folks give him victuals than entreating them, that one man, of whom he -had something given, and knew him, told him one day, “Captain Jacque,” -says he, “thou art but an awkward, ugly sort of a beggar, now thou art -a boy; I doubt thou wilt be fitter to ask a man for his purse than for -a penny when thou comest to be a man.”</p> - -<p>The major was a merry, thoughtless fellow, always cheerful; whether he -had any victuals or no, he never complained; and he recommended -himself so well by his good carriage that the neighbours loved him, -and he got victuals enough, one where or other. Thus we all made a -shift, though we were so little, to keep from starving; and as for -lodging, we lay in the summer-time about the watch-houses and on -bulkheads and shop-doors, where we were known. As for a bed, we knew -nothing what belonged to it for many years after my nurse died; -and in winter we got into the ash-holes and nealing-arches in the -glass-house, called Dallow’s Glass-house, in Rosemary Lane, or at -another glass-house in Ratcliff Highway.</p> - -<p>In this manner we lived for some years; and here we failed not to fall -among a gang of naked, ragged rogues like ourselves, wicked as the -devil could desire to have them be at so early an age, and ripe for -all the other parts of mischief that suited them as they advanced in -years.</p> - -<p>I remember that one cold winter night we were disturbed in our rest -with a constable and his watch crying out for one Wry-neck, who, it -seems, had done some roguery, and required a hue-and-cry of that kind; -and the watch were informed he was to be found among the beggar-boys -under the nealing-arches in the glass-house.</p> - -<p>The alarm being given, we were awakened in the dead of the night with -“Come out here, ye crew of young devils; come out and show -yourselves;” so we were all produced. Some came out rubbing their eyes -and scratching their heads, and others were dragged out; and I think -there was about seventeen of us in all, but Wry-neck as they called -him, was not among them. It seems this was a good big boy, that used -to be among the inhabitants of that place, and had been concerned in a -robbery the night before, in which his comrade, who was taken, in -hopes of escaping punishment, had discovered him, and informed where -he usually harboured; but he was aware, it seems, and had secured -himself, at least for that time. So we were allowed to return to our -warm apartment among the coal-ashes, where I slept many a cold winter -night; nay, I may say, many a winter, as sound and as comfortably as -ever I did since, though in better lodgings.</p> - -<p>In this manner of living we went on a good while, I believe two years, -and neither did or meant any harm. We generally went all three -together; for, in short, the captain, for want of address, and for -something disagreeable in him, would have starved if we had not kept -him with us. As we were always together, we were generally known by -the name of the three Jacques; but Colonel Jacque had always the -preference, upon many accounts. The major, as I have said, was merry -and pleasant, but the colonel always held talk with the better sort—I -mean the better sort of those that would converse with a beggar-boy. -In this way of talk I was always upon the inquiry, asking questions of -things done in public, as well as in private; particularly, I loved to -talk with seamen and soldiers about the war, and about the great -sea-fights or battles on shore that any of them had been in; and, as I -never forgot anything they told me, I could soon, that is to say, in a -few years, give almost as good an account of the Dutch war, and of the -fights at sea, the battles in Flanders, the taking of Maestricht, and -the like, as any of those that had been there; and this made those old -soldiers and tars love to talk with me too, and to tell me all the -stories they could think of, and that not only of the wars then going -on, but also of the wars in Oliver’s time, the death of King Charles -I., and the like.</p> - -<p>By this means, as young as I was, I was a kind of an historian; and -though I had read no books, and never had any books to read, yet I -could give a tolerable account of what had been done and of what was -then a-doing in the world, especially in those things that our own -people were concerned in. I knew the names of every ship in the navy, -and who commanded them too, and all this before I was fourteen years -old, or but very soon after.</p> - -<p>Captain Jacque in this time fell into bad company, and went away from -us, and it was a good while before we ever heard tale or tidings of -him, till about half a year, I think, or thereabouts. I understood he -was got among a gang of kidnappers, as they were then called, being a -sort of wicked fellows that used to spirit people’s children away; -that is, snatch them up in the dark, and, stopping their mouths, carry -them to such houses where they had rogues ready to receive them, and -so carry them on board ships bound to Virginia, and sell them.</p> - -<p>This was a trade that horrid Jacque, for so I called him when we were -grown up, was very fit for, especially the violent part; for if a -little child got into his clutches, he would stop the breath of it, -instead of stopping its mouth, and never troubled his head with the -child’s being almost strangled, so he did but keep it from making a -noise. There was, it seems, some villainous thing done by this gang -about that time, whether a child was murdered among them, or a child -otherwise abused; but it seems it was a child of an eminent citizen, -and the parent somehow or other got a scent of the thing, so that they -recovered their child, though in a sad condition, and almost killed. I -was too young, and it was too long ago, for me to remember the whole -story, but they were all taken up and sent to Newgate, and Captain -Jacque among the rest, though he was but young, for he was not then -much above thirteen years old.</p> - -<p>What punishment was inflicted upon the rogues of that gang I cannot -tell now, but the captain, being but a lad, was ordered to be three -times soundly whipped at Bridewell, my Lord Mayor, or the Recorder, -telling him it was done in pity to him, to keep him from the gallows, -not forgetting to tell him that he had a hanging look, and bid him -have a care on that very account; so remarkable was the captain’s -countenance, even so young, and which he heard of afterwards on many -occasions. When he was in Bridewell I heard of his misfortune, and the -major and I went to see him; for this was the first news we heard of -what became of him.</p> - -<p>The very day that we went he was called out to be corrected, as they -called it, according to his sentence; and as it was ordered to be done -soundly, so indeed they were true to the sentence; for the alderman -who was the president of Bridewell, and whom I think they called Sir -William Turner, held preaching to him about how young he was, and what -pity it was such a youth should come to be hanged, and a great deal -more; how he should take warning by it, and how wicked a thing it was -that they should steal away poor innocent children, and the like; and -all this while the man with a blue badge on lashed him most -unmercifully, for he was not to leave off till Sir William knocked -with a little hammer on the table.</p> - -<p>The poor captain stamped and danced, and roared out like a mad boy; -and I must confess I was frighted almost to death; for though I could -not come near enough, being but a poor boy, to see how he was handled, -yet I saw him afterwards with his back all wealed with the lashes, and -in several places bloody, and thought I should have died with the -sight of it; but I grew better acquainted with those things -afterwards.</p> - -<p>I did what I could to comfort the poor captain when I got leave to -come to him. But the worst was not over with him, for he was to have -two more such whippings before they had done with him; and indeed they -scourged him so severely that they made him sick of the kidnapping -trade for a great while; but he fell in among them again, and kept -among them as long as that trade lasted, for it ceased in a few years -afterwards.</p> - -<p>The major and I, though very young, had sensible impressions made -upon us for some time by the severe usage of the captain, and it might -be very well said we were corrected as well as he, though not -concerned in the crime; but it was within the year that the major, a -good-conditioned, easy boy, was wheedled away by a couple of young -rogues that frequented the glass-house apartments, to take a walk with -them, as they were pleased to call it. The gentlemen were very well -matched; the major was about twelve years old, and the oldest of the -two that led him out was not above fourteen. The business was to go to -Bartholomew Fair, and the end of going to Bartholomew Fair was, in -short, to pick pockets.</p> - -<p>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 -young rogues managed it so well that by 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 themselves, and gave all to him, that, -if they had been taken, nothing might be found about them.</p> - -<p>It was a devilish lucky day to 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 captain. The list of their purchase the first -night was as follows:—</p> - -<p>1. A white handkerchief from a country wench, as she was staring up at -a jack-pudding; there was 3s. 6d. and a row of pins tied up in one end -of it.</p> - -<p>2. A coloured handkerchief, out of a young country fellow’s pocket as -he was buying a china orange.</p> - -<p>3. A riband purse with 11s. 3d. and a silver thimble in it, out of a -young woman’s pocket, just as a fellow offered to pick her up.</p> - -<p><i>N.B</i>.—She missed her purse presently, but, not seeing the thief, -charged the man with it that would have picked her up, and cried out, -“A pickpocket!” and he fell into the hands of the mob, but, being -known in the street, he got off with great difficulty.</p> - -<p>4. A knife and fork, that a couple of boys had just bought and were -going home with; the young rogue that took it got it within the minute -after the boy had put it in his pocket.</p> - -<p>5. A little silver box with 7s. in it, all in small silver, 1d., 2d., -3d., 4d. pieces.</p> - -<p><i>N.B</i>.—This, it seems, a maid pulled out of her pocket, to pay at her -going into the booth to see a show, and the little rogue got his hand -in and fetched it off, just as she put it up again.</p> - -<p>6. Another silk handkerchief, out of a gentleman’s pocket.</p> - -<p>7. Another.</p> - -<p>8. A jointed baby and a little looking-glass, stolen off a -toy-seller’s stall in the fair.</p> - -<p>All this 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 next day to a -strange degree.</p> - -<p>He came very early to me, who lay not far from him, and said to me, -“Colonel Jacque, I want to speak with you.” “Well,” said I, “what do -you say?” “Nay,” said he, “it is business of consequence; I cannot -talk here;” so we walked out. As soon as we were come out into a -narrow lane by the glass-house, “Look here,” says he, and pulls out -his little hand almost full of money.</p> - -<p>I was surprised at the sight, when he puts it up again, and, bringing -his hand out, “Here,” says he, “you shall have some of it;” and gives -me a sixpence and a shilling’s worth of the small silver pieces. This -was very welcome to me, who, as much as I was of a gentleman, and as -much as I thought of myself upon that account, never had a shilling of -money together before in all my life, not that I could call my own.</p> - -<p>I was very earnest then to know how he came by this wealth, for he had -for his share 7s. 6d. in money, the silver thimble, and a silk -handkerchief, which was, in short, an estate to him, that never had, -as I said of myself, a shilling together in his life.</p> - -<p>“And what will you do with it now, Jacque?” said I. “I do?” says he. -“The first thing I do I’ll go into Rag Fair and buy me a pair of shoes -and stockings.” “That’s right,” says I, “and so will I too;” so away -we went together, and we bought each of us a pair of Rag Fair -stockings in the first place for fivepence; not fivepence a pair, but -fivepence together; and good stockings they were too, much above our -wear, I assure you.</p> - -<p>We found it more difficult to fit ourselves with shoes; but at last, -having looked a great while before we could find any good enough for -us, we found a shop very well stored, and of these we bought two pair -for sixteenpence.</p> - -<p>We put them on immediately, to our great comfort, for we had neither -of us had any stockings to our legs that had any feet to them for a -long time. I found myself so refreshed with having a pair of warm -stockings on, and a pair of dry shoes—things, I say, which I had not -been acquainted with a great while—that I began to call to my mind my -being a gentleman, and now I thought it began to come to pass. When we -had thus fitted ourselves I said, “Hark ye, Major Jacque, you and I -never had any money in our lives before, and we never had a good -dinner in all our lives. What if we should go somewhere and get some -victuals? I am very hungry.”</p> - -<p>“So we will, then,” says the major; “I am hungry too.” So we went to a -boiling cook’s in Rosemary Lane, where we treated ourselves nobly, -and, as I thought with myself, we began to live like gentlemen, for we -had three pennyworth of boiled beef, two pennyworth of pudding, a -penny brick (as they call it, or loaf), and a whole pint of strong -beer, which was sevenpence in all.</p> - -<p><i>N.B</i>.—We had each of us a good mess of charming beef-broth into the -bargain; and, which cheered my heart wonderfully, all the while we -were at dinner, the maid and the boy in the house, every time they -passed by the open box where we sat at our dinner, would look in and -cry, “Gentlemen, do you call?” and “Do ye call, gentlemen?” I say, -this was as good to me as all my dinner.</p> - -<p>Not the best housekeeper in Stepney parish, not my Lord Mayor of -London, no, not the greatest man on earth, could be more happy in -their own imagination, and with less mixture of grief or reflection, -than I was at this new piece of felicity; though mine was but a small -part of it, for Major Jacque had an estate compared to me, as I had an -estate compared to what I had before; in a word, nothing but an utter -ignorance of greater felicity, which was my case, could make anybody -think himself so exalted as I did, though I had no share of this booty -but eighteenpence.</p> - -<p>That night the major and I triumphed in our new enjoyment, and slept -with an undisturbed repose in the usual place, surrounded with the -warmth of the glass-house fires above, which was a full amends for all -the ashes and cinders which we rolled in below.</p> - -<p>Those who know the position of the glass-houses, and the arches where -they neal the bottles after they are made, know that those places -where the ashes are cast, and where the poor boys lie, are cavities in -the brickwork, perfectly close, except at the entrance, and -consequently warm as the dressing-room of a bagnio, that it is -impossible they can feel any cold there, were it in Greenland or Nova -Zembla, and that therefore the boys lie there not only safe, but very -comfortably, the ashes excepted, which are no grievance at all to -them.</p> - -<p>The next day the major and his comrades went abroad again, and were -still successful; nor did any disaster attend them, for I know not how -many months; and, by frequent imitation and direction, Major Jacque -became as dexterous a pickpocket as any of them, and went on through a -long variety of fortunes, too long to enter upon now, because I am -hastening to my own story, which at present is the main thing I have -to set down.</p> - -<p>The major failed not to let me see every day the effects of his new -prosperity, and was so bountiful as frequently to throw me a tester, -sometimes a shilling; and I might perceive that he began to have -clothes on his back, to leave the ash-hole, having gotten a society -lodging (of which I may give an explanation by itself on another -occasion); and which was more, he took upon him to wear a shirt, which -was what neither he or I had ventured to do for three years before, -and upward.</p> - -<p>But I observed all this while, that though Major Jacque was so -prosperous and had thriven so well, and notwithstanding he was very -kind, and even generous, to me, in giving me money upon many -occasions, yet he never invited me to enter myself into the society or -to embark with him, whereby I might have been made as happy as he; no, -nor did he recommend the employment to me at all.</p> - -<p>I was not very well pleased with his being thus reserved to me. I had -learned from him in general that the business was picking of pockets, -and I fancied that though the ingenuity of the trade consisted very -much in sleight-of-hand, a good address, and being very nimble, yet -that it was not at all difficult to learn; and, especially, I thought -the opportunities were so many, the country people that come to London -so foolish, so gaping, and so engaged in looking about them, that it -was a trade with no great hazard annexed to it, and might be easily -learned, if I did but know in general the manner of it, and how they -went about it.</p> - -<p>The subtle devil, never absent from his business, but ready at all -occasions to encourage his servants, removed all these difficulties, -and brought him into an intimacy with one of the most exquisite -divers, or pickpockets, in the town; and this, our intimacy, was of no -less a kind than that, as I had an inclination to be as wicked as any -of them, he was for taking care that I should not be disappointed.</p> - -<p>He was above the little fellows who went about stealing trifles and -baubles in Bartholomew Fair, and ran the risk of being mobbed for -three or four shillings. His aim was at higher things, even at no less -than considerable sums of money, and bills for more.</p> - -<p>He solicited me earnestly to go and take a walk with him as above, -adding that after he had shown me my trade a little, he would let me -be as wicked as I would; that is, as he expressed it, that after he -had made me capable, I should set up for myself, if I pleased, and he -would only wish me good luck.</p> - -<p>Accordingly, as Major Jacque went with his gentlemen only to see the -manner, and receive the purchase, and yet come in for a share; so he -told me, if he had success, I should have my share as much as if I had -been principal; and this he assured me was a custom of the trade, in -order to encourage young beginners, and bring them into the trade with -courage, for that nothing was to be done if a man had not the heart of -the lion.</p> - -<p>I hesitated at the matter a great while, objecting the hazard, and -telling the story of Captain Jacque, my elder brother, as I might call -him. “Well, colonel,” says he, “I find you are faint-hearted, and to -be faint-hearted is indeed to be unfit for our trade, for nothing but -a bold heart can go through stitch with this work; but, however, as -there is nothing for you to do, so there is no risk for you to run in -these things the first time. If I am taken,” says he, “you have -nothing to do in it; they will let you go free; for it shall easily be -made appear, that whatever I have done, you had no hand in it.”</p> - -<p>Upon these persuasions I ventured out with him; but I soon found that -my new friend was a thief of quality, and a pickpocket above the -ordinary rank, and that aimed higher abundantly than my brother -Jacque. He was a bigger boy than I a great deal; for though I was now -near fifteen years old, I was not big of my age; and as to the nature -of the thing, I was perfectly a stranger to it. I knew indeed what at -first I did not, for it was a good while before I understood the thing -as an offence. I looked on picking pockets as a kind of trade, and -thought I was to go apprentice to it. It is true this was when I was -young in the society, as well as younger in years, but even now I -understood it to be only a thing for which, if we were catched, we ran -the risk of being ducked or pumped, which we call soaking, and then -all was over; and we made nothing of having our rags wetted a little; -but I never understood, till a great while after, that the crime was -capital, and that we might be sent to Newgate for it, till a great -fellow, almost a man, one of our society, was hanged for it; and then -I was terribly frighted, as you shall hear by-and-by.</p> - -<p>Well, upon the persuasions of this lad, I walked out with him; a poor -innocent boy, and (as I remember my very thoughts perfectly well) I -had no evil in my intentions. I had never stolen anything in my life; -and if a goldsmith had left me in his shop, with heaps of money -strewed all round me, and bade me look after it, I should not have -touched it, I was so honest; but the subtle tempter baited his hook -for me, as I was a child, in a manner suited to my childishness, for I -never took this picking of pockets to be dishonesty, but, as I have -said above, I looked on it as a kind of trade that I was to be bred up -to, and so I entered upon it, till I became hardened in it beyond the -power of retreating. And thus I was made a thief involuntarily, and -went on a length that few boys do, without coming to the common period -of that kind of life—I mean to the transport-ship, or to the gallows.</p> - -<p>The first day I went abroad with my new instructor, he carried me -directly into the city, and as we went first to the water-side, he led -me into the long-room at the custom-house. We were but a couple of -ragged boys at best, but I was much the worse. My leader had a hat on, -a shirt, and a neckcloth; as for me, I had neither of the three, nor -had I spoiled my manners so much as to have a hat on my head since my -nurse died, which was now some years. His orders to me were to keep -always in sight, and near him, but not close to him, nor to take any -notice of him at any time till he came to me; and if any hurly-burly -happened, I should by no means know him, or pretend to have anything -to do with him.</p> - -<p>I observed my orders to a tittle. While he peered into every corner -and had his eye upon everybody, I kept my eye directly upon him, but -went always at a distance, and on the other side of the long-room, -looking as it were for pins, and picking them up out of the dust as I -could find them, and then sticking them on my sleeve, where I had at -last gotten forty or fifty good pins; but still my eye was upon my -comrade, who, I observed, was very busy among the crowds of people -that stood at the board doing business with the officers who pass the -entries and make the cockets, &c.</p> - -<p>At length he comes over to me, and stooping as if he would take up a -pin close to me, he put some thing into my hand, and said, “Put that -up, and follow me downstairs quickly.” He did not run, but shuffled -along apace through the crowd, and went down, not the great stairs -which we came in at, but a little narrow staircase at the other end of -the long-room. I followed, and he found I did, and so went on, not -stopping below, as I expected, nor speaking one word to me, till, -through innumerable narrow passages, alleys, and dark ways, we were -got up into Fenchurch Street, and through Billiter Lane into -Leadenhall Street, and from thence into Leadenhall Market.</p> - -<p>It was not a meat-market day, so we had room to sit down upon one of -the butchers’ stalls, and he bid me lug out. What he had given me was -a little leather letter-case, with a French almanac stuck in the -inside of it, and a great many papers in it of several kinds.</p> - -<p>We looked them over, and found there was several valuable bills in it, -such as bills of exchange and other notes, things I did not -understand; but among the rest was a goldsmith’s note, as he called -it, of one Sir Stephen Evans, for £300, payable to the bearer, and at -demand. Besides this, there was another note for £12, 10s., being a -goldsmith’s bill too, but I forget the name. There was a bill or two -also written in French, which neither of us understood, but which, it -seems, were things of value, being called foreign bills accepted.</p> - -<p>The rogue, my master, knew what belonged to the goldsmiths’ bills well -enough, and I observed, when he read the bill of Sir Stephen, he said, -“This is too big for me to meddle with;” but when he came to the bill -£12, 10s., he said to me, “This will do. Come hither, Jacque;” so away -he runs to Lombard Street, and I after him, huddling the other papers -into the letter-case. As he went along he inquired the name out -immediately, and went directly to the shop, put on a good, grave -countenance, and had the money paid him without any stop or question -asked. I stood on the other side the way looking about the street, as -not at all concerned with anybody that way, but observed that when he -presented the bill he pulled out the letter-case, as if he had been a -merchant’s boy, acquainted with business, and had other bills about -him.</p> - -<p>They paid him the money in gold, and he made haste enough in telling -it over, and came away, passing by me, and going into Three King -Court, on the other side of the way; then we crossed back into -Clement’s Lane, made the best of our way to Cole Harbour, at the -water-side, and got a sculler for a penny to carry us over the water -to St. Mary Overy’s stairs, where we landed, and were safe enough.</p> - -<p>Here he turns to me; “Colonel Jacque,” says he, “I believe you are a -lucky boy; this is a good job. We’ll go away to St. George’s Fields -and share our booty.” Away we went to the Fields, and sitting down in -the grass, far enough out of the path, he pulled out the money. “Look -here, Jacque,” says he, “did you ever see the like before in your -life?” “No, never,” says I; and added very innocently, “Must we have -it all?” “We have it!” says he, “who should have it?” “Why,” says I, -“must the man have none of it again that lost it?” “He have it again!” -says he. “What d’ye mean by that?” “Nay, I don’t know,” says I. “Why, -you said just now you would let him have the t’other bill again, that -you said was too big for you.”</p> - -<p>He laughed at me. “You are but a little boy,” says he, “that’s true, -but I thought you had not been such a child neither;” so he mighty -gravely explained the thing to me thus: that the bill of Sir Stephen -Evans was a great bill for £300, “and if I,” says he, “that am but a -poor lad, should venture to go for the money, they will presently say, -how should I come by such a bill, and that I certainly found it or -stole it; so they will stop me,” says he, “and take it away from me, -and it may bring me into trouble for it too; so,” says he, “I did say -it was too big for me to meddle with, and that I would let the man -have it again, if I could tell how. But for the money, Jacque, the -money that we have got, I warrant you he should have none of that. -Besides,” says he, “whoever he be that has lost this letter-case, to -be sure, as soon as he missed it, he would run to the goldsmith and -give notice that if anybody came for the money they would be stopped; -but I am too old for him there,” says he.</p> - -<p>“Why,” says I, “and what will you do with the bill? Will you throw it -away? If you do, somebody else will find it,” says I, “and they will -go and take the money.” “No, no,” says he; “then they will be stopped -and examined, as I tell you I should be.” I did not know well what all -this meant, so I talked no more about that; but we fell to handling -the money. As for me, I had never seen so much together in all my -life, nor did I know what in the world to do with it, and once or -twice I was a-going to bid him keep it for me, which would have been -done like a child indeed, for, to be sure, I had never heard a word -more of it, though nothing had befallen him.</p> - -<p>However, as I happened to hold my tongue as to that part, he shared -the money very honestly with me; only at the end he told me, that -though it was true he promised me half, yet as it was the first time, -and I had done nothing but look on, so he thought it was very well if -I took a little less than he did; so he divided the money, which was -£12, 10s., into two exact parts, viz., £6, 5s. in each part; then he -took £1, 5s. from my part, and told me I should give him that for -hansel. “Well,” says I, “take it, then, for I think you deserve it -all:” so, however, I took up the rest, and “What shall I do with this -now,” says I, “for I have nowhere to put it?” “Why, have you no -pockets?” says he. “Yes,” says I; “but they are full of holes.” I have -often thought since that, and with some mirth too, how I had really -more wealth than I knew what to do with; for lodging I had none, nor -any box or drawer to hide my money in; nor had I any pocket, but such -as I say was full of holes. I knew nobody in the world that I could go -and desire them to lay it up for me; for, being a poor naked, ragged -boy, they would presently say I had robbed somebody, and perhaps lay -hold of me, and my money would be my crime, as they say it often is in -foreign countries. And now, as I was full of wealth, behold I was full -of care, for what to do to secure my money I could not tell; and this -held me so long, and was so vexatious to me the next day, that I truly -sat down and cried.</p> - -<p>Nothing could be more perplexing than this money was to me all that -night. I carried it in my hand a good while, for it was in gold, all -but 14s.; and that is to say, it was in four guineas, and that 14s. -was more difficult to carry than the four guineas. At last I sat down -and pulled off one of my shoes, and put the four guineas into that; -but after I had gone a while, my shoe hurt me so I could not go, so I -was fain to sit down again and take it out of my shoe, and carry it in -my hand. Then I found a dirty linen rag in the street, and I took that -up and wrapped it all together, and carried it in that a good way. I -have often since heard people say, when they have been talking of -money that they could not get in, “I wish I had it in a foul clout;” -in truth, I had mine in a foul clout; for it was foul, according to -the letter of that saying, but it served me till I came to a -convenient place, and then I sat down and washed the cloth in the -kennel, and so then put my money in again.</p> - -<p>Well, I carried it home with me to my lodging in the glass-house, and -when I went to go to sleep I knew not what to do with it. If I had let -any of the black crew I was with know of it, I should have been -smothered in the ashes for it, or robbed of it, or some trick or other -put upon me for it; so I knew not what to do, but lay with it in my -hand, and my hand in my bosom. But then sleep went from my eyes. Oh, -the weight of human care! I, a poor beggar-boy, could not sleep so -soon as I had but a little money to keep, who before that could have -slept upon a heap of brick-bats, or stones, or cinders, or anywhere, -as sound as a rich man does on his down bed, and sounder too.</p> - -<p>Every now and then dropping asleep, I should dream that my money was -lost, and start like one frighted; then, finding it fast in my hand, -try to go to sleep again, but could not for a long while; then drop -and start again. At last a fancy came into my head that if I fell -asleep I should dream of the money, and talk of it in my sleep, and -tell that I had money, which if I should do, and one of the rogues -should hear me, they would pick it out of my bosom, and of my hand -too, without waking me; and after that thought I could not sleep a -wink more; so that I passed that night over in care and anxiety -enough; and this, I may safely say, was the first night’s rest that I -lost by the cares of this life and the deceitfulness of riches.</p> - -<p>As soon as it was day I got out of the hole we lay in, and rambled -abroad in the fields towards Stepney, and there I mused and considered -what I should do with this money, and many a time I wished that I had -not had it; for, after all my ruminating upon it, and what course I -should take with it, or where I should put it, I could not hit upon -any one thing, or any possible method to secure it, and it perplexed -me so that at last, as I said just now, I sat down and cried heartily.</p> - -<p>When my crying was over the case was the same; I had the money still, -and what to do with it I could not tell. At last it came into my head -that I would look out for some hole in a tree, and seek to hide it -there till I should have occasion for it. Big was this discovery, as I -then thought it. I began to look about me for a tree; but there were -no trees in the fields about Stepney or Mile End that looked fit for -my purpose; and if there were any that I began to look narrowly at, -the fields were so full of people that they would see if I went to -hide any thing there; and I thought the people eyed me as it was, and -that two men in particular followed me to see what I intended to do.</p> - -<p>This drove me farther off, and I crossed the road at Mile End, and in -the middle of the town went down a lane that goes away to the Blind -Beggar’s at Bethnal Green. When I came a little way in the lane I -found a footpath over the fields, and in those fields several trees -for my turn, as I thought. At last one tree had a little hole in it, -pretty high out of my reach, and I climbed up the tree to get it, and -when I came there I put my hand in, and found (as I thought) a place -very fit, so I placed my treasure there, and was mighty well satisfied -with it; but, behold, putting my hand in again to lay it more -commodiously, as I thought, of a sudden it slipped away from me, and I -found the tree was hollow, and my little parcel was fallen in quite -out of my reach, and how far it might go in I knew not; so that, in a -word, my money was quite gone, irrecoverably lost. There could be no -room so much as to hope ever to see it again, for ’twas a vast great -tree.</p> - -<p>As young as I was, I was now sensible what a fool I was before, that I -could not think of ways to keep my money, but I must come thus far to -throw it into a hole where I could not reach it. Well, I thrust my -hand quite up to my elbow, but no bottom was to be found, or any end -of the hole or cavity. I got a stick of the tree, and thrust it in a -great way, but all was one. Then I cried, nay, roared out, I was in -such a passion. Then I got down the tree again, then up again, and -thrust in my hand again till I scratched my arm and made it bleed, and -cried all the while most violently. Then I began to think I had not so -much as a halfpenny of it left for a halfpenny roll, and I was hungry, -and then I cried again. Then I came away in despair, crying and -roaring like a little boy that had been whipped; then I went back -again to the tree, and up the tree again, and thus I did several -times. The last time I had gotten up the tree I happened to come down -not on the same side that I went up and came down before, but on the -other side of the tree, and on the side of the bank also; and, behold, -the tree had a great open place in the side of it close to the ground, -as old hollow trees often have; and looking into the open place, to my -inexpressible joy, there lay my money and my linen rag, all wrapped up -just as I had put it into the hole; for the tree being hollow all the -way up, there had been some moss or light stuff, which I had not -judgment enough to know was not firm, and had given way when it came -to drop out of my hand, and so it had slipped quite down at once.</p> - -<p>I was but a child, and I rejoiced like a child, for I halloed quite -out loud when I saw it; then I ran to it, and snatched it up, hugged -and kissed the dirty rag a hundred times; then danced and jumped -about, ran from one end of the field to the other, and, in short, I -knew not what; much less do I know now what I did, though I shall -never forget the thing, either what a sinking grief it was to my heart -when I thought I had lost it, or what a flood of joy overwhelmed me -when I had got it again.</p> - -<p>While I was in the first transport of my joy, as I have said, I ran -about, and knew not what I did; but when that was over I sat down, -opened the foul clout the money was in, looked at it, told it, found -it was all there, and then I fell a-crying as savourly as I did -before, when I thought I had lost it.</p> - -<p>It would tire the reader should I dwell on all the little boyish -tricks that I played in the ecstasy of my joy and satisfaction when I -had found my money; so I break off here. Joy is as extravagant as -grief, and since I have been a man I have often thought, that had such -a thing befallen a man, so to have lost all he had, and not have a bit -of bread to eat, and then so strangely to find it again, after having -given it so effectually over—I say, had it been so with a man, it -might have hazarded his using some violence upon himself.</p> - -<p>Well, I came away with my money, and having taken sixpence out of it, -before I made it up again I went to a chandler’s shop in Mile End and -bought a halfpenny roll and a halfpenny worth of cheese, and sat down -at the door after I bought it, and ate it very heartily, and begged -some beer to drink with it, which the good woman gave me very freely.</p> - -<p>Away I went then for the town, to see if I could find any of my -companions, and resolved I would try no more hollow trees for my -treasure. As I came along Whitechapel I came by a broker’s shop over -against the church, where they sold old clothes, for I had nothing on -but the worst of rags; so I stopped at the shop, and stood looking at -the clothes which hung at the door.</p> - -<p>“Well, young gentleman,” says a man that stood at the door, “you look -wishfully. Do you see any thing you like, and will your pocket compass -a good coat now, for you look as if you belonged to the ragged -regiment?” I was affronted at the fellow. “What’s that to you,” says -I, “how ragged I am? If I had seen anything I liked, I have money to -pay for it; but I can go where I shan’t be huffed at for looking.”</p> - -<p>While I said thus pretty boldly to the fellow comes a woman out. “What -ails you,” says she to the man, “to bully away our customers so? A -poor boy’s money is as good as my Lord Mayor’s. If poor people did not -buy old clothes, what would become of our business?” And then turning -to me, “Come hither, child,” says she; “if thou hast a mind to -anything I have, you shan’t be hectored by him. The boy is a pretty -boy, I assure you,” says she to another woman that was by this time -come to her. “Ay,” says the t’other, “so he is, a very well-looking -child, if he was clean and well dressed, and may be as good a -gentleman’s son, for anything we know, as any of those that are well -dressed. Come, my dear,” says she, “tell me what is it you would -have.” She pleased me mightily to hear her talk of my being a -gentleman’s son, and it brought former things to my mind; but when she -talked of my being not clean and in rags, then I cried.</p> - -<p>She pressed me to tell her if I saw anything that I wanted. I told her -no, all the clothes I saw there were too big for me. “Come, child,” -says she, “I have two things here that will fit you, and I am sure you -want them both; that is, first, a little hat, and there,” says she -(tossing it to me), “I’ll give you that for nothing. And here is a -good warm pair of breeches; I dare say,” says she, “they will fit you, -and they are very tight and good; and,” says she, “if you should ever -come to have so much money that you don’t know what to do with it, -here are excellent good pockets,” says she, “and a little fob to put -your gold in, or your watch in, when you get it.”</p> - -<p>It struck me with a strange kind of joy that I should have a place to -put my money in, and need not go to hide it again in a hollow tree, -that I was ready to snatch the breeches out of her hands, and wondered -that I should be such a fool never to think of buying me a pair of -breeches before, that I might have a pocket to put my money in, and -not carry it about two days together in my hand, and in my shoes and I -knew not how; so, in a word, I gave her two shillings for the -breeches, and went over into the churchyard and put them on, put my -money into my new pockets, and was as pleased as a prince is with his -coach and six horses. I thanked the good woman too for the hat, and -told her I would come again when I got more money, and buy some other -things I wanted; and so I came away.</p> - -<p>I was but a boy, ’tis true, but I thought myself a man, now I had got -a pocket to put my money in, and I went directly to find out my -companion by whose means I got it; but I was frighted out of my wits -when I heard that he was carried to Bridewell. I made no question but -it was for the letter-case, and that I should be carried there too; -and then my poor brother Captain Jacque’s case came into my head, and -that I should be whipped there as cruelly as he was, and I was in such -a fright that I knew not what to do.</p> - -<p>But in the afternoon I met him; he had been carried to Bridewell, it -seems, upon that very affair, but was got out again. The case was -thus: having had such good luck at the custom-house the day before, he -takes his walk thither again, and as he was in the long-room, gaping -and staring about him, a fellow lays hold of him, and calls to one of -the clerks that sat behind, “Here,” says he, “is the same young rogue -that I told you I saw loitering about t’other day, when the gentleman -lost his letter-case and his goldsmiths’ bills; I dare say it was he -that stole them.” Immediately the whole crowd of people gathered about -the boy, and charged him point-blank; but he was too well used to such -things to be frighted into a confession of what he knew they could not -prove, for he had nothing about him belonging to it, nor had any money -but six pence and a few dirty farthings.</p> - -<p>They threatened him, and pulled and hauled him, till they almost -pulled the clothes off his back, and the commissioners examined him; -but all was one; he would own nothing, but said he walked up through -the room, only to see the place, both then and the time before, for he -had owned he was there before; so, as there was no proof against him -of any fact, no, nor of any circumstances relating to the letter-case, -they were forced at last to let him go. However, they made a show of -carrying him to Bridewell, and they did carry him to the gate to see -if they could make him confess anything; but he would confess nothing, -and they had no mittimus; so they durst not carry him into the house; -nor would the people have received him, I suppose, if they had, they -having no warrant for putting him in prison.</p> - -<p>Well, when they could get nothing out of him, they carried him into an -alehouse, and there they told him that the letter-case had bills in it -of a very great value; that they would be of no use to the rogue that -had them, but they would be of infinite damage to the gentleman that -had lost them; and that he had left word with the clerk, whom the man -that stopped this boy had called to, and who was there with him, that -he would give £30 to any one that would bring them again, and give all -the security that could be desired that he would give them no trouble, -whoever it was.</p> - -<p>He was just come from out of their hands when I met with him, and so -he told me all the story. “But,” says he, “I would confess nothing, -and so I got off, and am come away clear.” “Well,” says I, “and what -will you do with the letter-case and the bills? Will you not let the -poor man have his bills again?” “No, not I,” says he; “I won’t trust -them. What care I for their bills?” It came into my head, as young as -I was, that it was a sad thing indeed to take a man’s bills away for -so much money, and not have any advantage by it neither; for I -concluded that the gentleman who owned the bills must lose all the -money, and it was strange he should keep the bills, and make a -gentleman lose so much money for nothing. I remember that I ruminated -very much about it, and though I did not understand it very well, yet -it lay upon my mind, and I said every now and then to him, “Do let the -gentleman have his bills again; do, pray do;” and so I teased him, -with “Do” and “Pray do,” till at last I cried about them. He said, -“What, would you have me be found out and sent to Bridewell, and be -whipped, as your brother Captain Jacque was?” I said, “No, I would not -have you whipped, but I would have the man have his bills, for they -will do you no good, but the gentleman will be undone, it may be.” And -then I added again, “Do let him have them.” He snapped me short. -“Why,” says he, “how shall I get them to him? Who dare carry them? I -dare not, to be sure, for they will stop me, and bring the goldsmith -to see if he does not know me, and that I received the money, and so -they will prove the robbery, and I shall be hanged. Would you have me -be hanged, Jacque?”</p> - -<p>I was silenced a good while with that, for when he said, “Would you -have me be hanged, Jacque?” I had no more to say. But one day after -this he called to me. “Colonel Jacque,” says he, “I have thought of a -way how the gentleman shall have his bills again; and you and I shall -get a good deal of money by it, if you will be honest to me, as I was -to you.” “Indeed,” says I, “Robin”—that was his name—“I will be very -honest; let me know how it is, for I would fain have him have his -bills.”</p> - -<p>“Why,” says he, “they told me that he had left word at the clerk’s -place in the long-room that he would give £30 to any one that had the -bills, and would restore them, and would ask no questions. Now, if you -will go, like a poor innocent boy, as you are, into the long-room and -speak to the clerk, it may do. Tell him if the gentleman will do as he -promised, you believe you can tell him who has it; and if they are -civil to you, and willing to be as good as their words, you shall have -the letter-case, and give it them.”</p> - -<p>I told him ay, I would go with all my heart. “But, Colonel Jacque,” -says he, “what if they should take hold of you and threaten to have -you whipped? Won’t you discover me to them?” “No,” says I; “if they -would whip me to death I won’t.” “Well, then,” says he, “there’s the -letter-case; do you go.” So he gave me directions how to act and what -to say; but I would not take the letter-case with me, lest they should -prove false, and take hold of me, thinking to find it upon me, and so -charge me with the fact; so I left it with him. And the next morning I -went to the custom-house, as was agreed. What my directions were will, -to avoid repetition, appear in what happened; it was an errand of too -much consequence indeed to be entrusted to a boy, not only so young as -I was, but so little of a rogue as I was yet arrived to the degree of.</p> - -<p>Two things I was particularly armed with, which I resolved upon: 1. -That the man should have his bills again; for it seemed a horrible -thing to me that he should be made to lose his money, which I supposed -he must, purely because we would not carry the letter-case home. 2. -That whatever happened to me, I was never to tell the name of my -comrade Robin, who had been the principal. With these two pieces of -honesty, for such they were both in themselves, and with a manly -heart, though a boy’s head, I went up into the long-room in the -custom-house the next day.</p> - -<p>As soon as I came to the place where the thing was done, I saw the man -sit just where he had sat before, and it ran in my head that he had -sat there ever since; but I knew no better; so I went up, and stood -just at that side of the writing-board that goes upon that side of the -room, and which I was but just tall enough to lay my arms upon.</p> - -<p>While I stood there one thrust me this way, and another thrust me that -way, and the man that sat behind began to look at me. At last he -called out to me, “What does that boy do there? Get you gone, sirrah! -Are you one of the rogues that stole the gentleman’s letter-case a -Monday last?” Then he turns his tale to a gentleman that was doing -business with him, and goes on thus: “Here was Mr. —— had a very -unlucky chance on Monday last. Did not you hear of it?” “No, not I,” -says the gentleman. “Why, standing just there, where you do,” says he, -“making his entries, he pulled out his letter-case, and laid it down, -as he says, but just at his hand, while he reached over to the -standish there for a penful of ink, and somebody stole away his -letter-case.”</p> - -<p>“His letter-case!” says t’other. “What, and was there any bills in -it?”</p> - -<p>“Ay,” says he, “there was Sir Stephen Evans’s note in it for £300, and -another goldsmith’s bill for about £12; and which is worse still for -the gentleman, he had two foreign accepted bills in it for a great -sum—I know not how much. I think one was a French bill for 1200 -crowns.”</p> - -<p>“And who could it be?” says the gentleman.</p> - -<p>“Nobody knows,” says he; “but one of our room-keepers says he saw a -couple of young rogues like that,” pointing at me, “hanging about -here, and that on a sudden they were both gone.”</p> - -<p>“Villains!” says he again. “Why, what can they do with them? They will -be of no use to them. I suppose he went immediately and gave notice to -prevent the payment.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” says the clerk, “he did; but the rogues were too nimble for him -with the little bill of £12 odd money; they went and got the money for -that, but all the rest are stopped. However, ’tis an unspeakable -damage to him for want of his money.”</p> - -<p>“Why, he should publish a reward for the encouragement of those that -have them to bring them again; they would be glad to bring them, I -warrant you.”</p> - -<p>“He has posted it up at the door that he will give £30 for them.”</p> - -<p>“Ay; but he should add that he will promise not to stop or give any -trouble to the person that brings them.”</p> - -<p>“He has done that too,” says he; “but I fear they won’t trust -themselves to be honest, for fear he should break his word.”</p> - -<p>“Why? It is true he may break his word in that case, but no man should -do so; for then no rogue will venture to bring home anything that is -stolen, and so he would do an injury to others after him.”</p> - -<p>“I durst pawn my life for him, he would scorn it.”</p> - -<p>Thus far they discoursed of it, and then went off to something else. I -heard it all, but did not know what to do a great while; but at last, -watching the gentleman that went away, when he was gone I ran after -him to have spoken to him, intending to have broke it to him, but he -went hastily into a room or two full of people at the hither end of -the long-room; and when I went to follow, the doorkeepers turned me -back, and told me I must not go in there; so I went back, and loitered -about near the man that sat behind the board, and hung about there -till I found the clock struck twelve, and the room began to be thin of -people; and at last he sat there writing, but nobody stood at the -board before him, as there had all the rest of the morning. Then I -came a little nearer, and stood close to the board, as I did before; -when, looking up from his paper, and seeing me, says he to me, “You -have been up and down here all this morning, sirrah! What do you want? -You have some business that is not very good, I doubt.”</p> - -<p>“No, I han’t,” said I.</p> - -<p>“No? It is well if you han’t,” says he. “Pray, what business can you -have in the long-room, sir? You are no merchant.”</p> - -<p>“I would speak with you,” said I.</p> - -<p>“With me!” says he. “What have you to say to me?”</p> - -<p>“I have something to say,” said I, “if you will do me no harm for it.”</p> - -<p>“I do thee harm, child! What harm should I do thee?” and spoke very -kindly.</p> - -<p>“Won’t you indeed, sir?” said I.</p> - -<p>“No, not I, child; I’ll do thee no harm. What is it? Do you know -anything of the gentleman’s letter-case?”</p> - -<p>I answered, but spoke softly that he could not hear me; so he gets -over presently into the seat next him, and opens a place that was made -to come out, and bade me come in to him; and I did.</p> - -<p>Then he asked me again if I knew anything of the letter-case.</p> - -<p>I spoke softly again, and said folks would hear him.</p> - -<p>Then he whispered softly, and asked me again.</p> - -<p>I told him I believed I did, but that, indeed, I had it not, nor had -no hand in stealing it, but it was gotten into the hands of a boy that -would have burned it, if it had not been for me; and that I heard him -say that the gentleman would be glad to have them again, and give a -good deal of money for them.</p> - -<p>“I did say so, child,” said he; “and if you can get them for him, he -shall give you a good reward, no less than £30, as he has promised.”</p> - -<p>“But you said too, sir, to the gentleman just now,” said I, “that you -was sure he would not bring them into any harm that should bring -them.”</p> - -<p>“No, you shall come to no harm. I will pass my word for it.”</p> - -<p><i>Boy</i>. Nor shan’t they make me bring other people into trouble?</p> - -<p><i>Gent</i>. No; you shall not be asked the name of anybody, nor to tell -who they are.</p> - -<p><i>Boy</i>. I am but a poor boy, and I would fain have the gentleman have -his bills; and indeed I did not take them away, nor I han’t got them.</p> - -<p><i>Gent</i>. But can you tell how the gentleman shall have them?</p> - -<p><i>Boy</i>. If I can get them, I will bring them to you to-morrow morning.</p> - -<p><i>Gent</i>. Can you not do it to-night?</p> - -<p><i>Boy</i>. I believe I may if I knew where to come.</p> - -<p><i>Gent</i>. Come to my house, child.</p> - -<p><i>Boy</i>. I don’t know where you live.</p> - -<p><i>Gent</i>. Go along with me now, and you shall see.</p> - -<p>So he carried me up into Tower Street, and showed me his house, and -ordered me to come there at five o’clock at night; which accordingly I -did, and carried the letter-case with me.</p> - -<p>When I came the gentleman asked me if I had brought the book, as he -called it.</p> - -<p>“It is not a book,” said I.</p> - -<p>“No, the letter-case; that’s all one,” says he.</p> - -<p>“You promised me,” said I, “you would not hurt me,” and cried.</p> - -<p>“Don’t be afraid, child,” says he. “I will not hurt thee, poor boy; -nobody shall hurt thee.”</p> - -<p>“Here it is,” said I, and pulled it out.</p> - -<p>He then brought in another gentleman, who, it seems, owned the -letter-case, and asked him if that was it, and he said, “Yes.”</p> - -<p>Then he asked me if all the bills were in it.</p> - -<p>I told him I heard him say there was one gone, but I believed there -was all the rest.</p> - -<p>“Why do you believe so?” says he.</p> - -<p>“Because I heard the boy that I believe stole them say they were too -big for him to meddle with.”</p> - -<p>The gentleman then that owned them said, “Where is the boy?”</p> - -<p>Then the other gentleman put in, and said, “No, you must not ask him -that; I passed my word that you should not, and that he should not be -obliged to tell it to anybody.”</p> - -<p>“Well, child,” says he, “you will let us see the letter-case opened, -and whether the bills are in it?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” says I.</p> - -<p>Then the first gentleman said, “How many bills were there in it?”</p> - -<p>“Only three,” says he. “Besides the bill of £12, 10s., there was Sir -Stephen Evans’s note for £300 and two foreign bills.”</p> - -<p>“Well, then, if they are in the letter-case, the boy shall have £30, -shall he not?” “Yes,” says the gentleman; “he shall have it very -freely.”</p> - -<p>“Come, then, child,” says he, “let me open it.”</p> - -<p>So I gave it him, and he opened it, and there were all three bills, -and several other papers, fair and safe, nothing defaced or -diminished; and the gentleman said, “All is right.”</p> - -<p>Then said the first man, “Then I am security to the poor boy for the -money.” “Well, but,” says the gentleman, “the rogues have got the £12, -10s.; they ought to reckon that as part of the £30.” Had he asked me, -I should have consented to it at first word; but the first man stood -my friend. “Nay,” says he, “it was since you knew that the £12, 10s. -was received that you offered £30 for the other bills, and published -it by the crier, and posted it up at the custom-house door, and I -promised him the £30 this morning.” They argued long, and I thought -would have quarrelled about it.</p> - -<p>However, at last they both yielded a little, and the gentleman gave me -£25 in good guineas. When he gave it me he bade me hold out my hand, -and he told the money into my hand; and when he had done he asked me -if it was right. I said I did not know, but I believed it was. “Why,” -says he, “can’t you tell it?” I told him no; I never saw so much money -in my life, nor I did not know how to tell money. “Why,” says he, -“don’t you know that they are guineas?” No, I told him, I did not know -how much a guinea was.</p> - -<p>“Why, then,” says he, “did you tell me you believed it was right?” I -told him, because I believed he would not give it me wrong.</p> - -<p>“Poor child,” says he, “thou knowest little of the world, indeed. What -art thou?”</p> - -<p>“I am a poor boy,” says I, and cried.</p> - -<p>“What is your name?” says he. “But hold, I forgot,” said he; “I -promised I would not ask your name, so you need not tell me.”</p> - -<p>“My name is Jacque,” said I.</p> - -<p>“Why, have you no surname?” said he.</p> - -<p>“What is that?” said I.</p> - -<p>“You have some other name besides Jacque,” says he, “han’t you?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” says I; “they call me Colonel Jacque.”</p> - -<p>“But have you no other name?”</p> - -<p>“No,” said I.</p> - -<p>“How came you to be Colonel Jacque, pray?”</p> - -<p>“They say,” said I, “my father’s name was Colonel.”</p> - -<p>“Is your father or mother alive?” said he.</p> - -<p>“No,” said I; “my father is dead.”</p> - -<p>“Where is your mother, then?” said he.</p> - -<p>“I never had e’er a mother,” said I.</p> - -<p>This made him laugh. “What,” said he, “had you never a mother? What, -then?”</p> - -<p>“I had a nurse,” said I; “but she was not my mother.”</p> - -<p>“Well,” says he to the gentleman, “I dare say this boy was not the -thief that stole your bills.”</p> - -<p>“Indeed, sir, I did not steal them,” said I, and cried again.</p> - -<p>“No, no, child,” said he, “we don’t believe you did. This is a very -clever boy,” says he to the other gentleman, “and yet very ignorant -and honest; ’tis pity some care should not be taken of him, and -something done for him. Let us talk a little more with him.” So they -sat down and drank wine, and gave me some, and then the first -gentleman talked to me again.</p> - -<p>“Well,” says he, “what wilt thou do with this money now thou hast it?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know,” said I.</p> - -<p>“Where will you put it?” said he,</p> - -<p>“In my pocket,” said I.</p> - -<p>“In your pocket!” said he. “Is your pocket whole? Shan’t you lose it?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said I, “my pocket is whole.”</p> - -<p>“And where will you put it when you get home?”</p> - -<p>“I have no home,” said I, and cried again.</p> - -<p>“Poor child!” said he. “Then what dost thou do for thy living?”</p> - -<p>“I go of errands,” said I, “for the folks in Rosemary Lane.”</p> - -<p>“And what dost thou do for a lodging at night?”</p> - -<p>“I lie at the glass-house,” said I, “at night.”</p> - -<p>“How, lie at the glass-house! Have they any beds there?” says he.</p> - -<p>“I never lay in a bed in my life,” said I, “as I remember.”</p> - -<p>“Why,” says he, “what do you lie on at the glass-house?”</p> - -<p>“The ground,” says I; “and sometimes a little straw, or upon the warm -ashes.”</p> - -<p>Here the gentleman that lost the bills said, “This poor child is -enough to make a man weep for the miseries of human nature, and be -thankful for himself; he puts tears into my eyes.” “And into mine -too,” says the other.</p> - -<p>“Well, but hark ye, Jacque,” says the first gentleman, “do they give -you no money when they send you of errands?”</p> - -<p>“They give me victuals,” said I, “and that’s better.”</p> - -<p>“But what,” says he, “do you do for clothes?”</p> - -<p>“They give me sometimes old things,” said I, “such as they have to -spare.”</p> - -<p>“Why, you have never a shirt on, I believe,” said he, “have you?”</p> - -<p>“No; I never had a shirt,” said I, “since my nurse died.”</p> - -<p>“How long ago is that?” said he.</p> - -<p>“Six winters, when this is out,” said I.</p> - -<p>“Why, how old are you?” said he.</p> - -<p>“I can’t tell,” said I.</p> - -<p>“Well,” says the gentleman, “now you have this money, won’t you buy -some clothes and a shirt with some of it?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said I, “I would buy some clothes.”</p> - -<p>“And what will you do with the rest?”</p> - -<p>“I can’t tell,” said I, and cried.</p> - -<p>“What dost cry for, Jacque?” said he.</p> - -<p>“I am afraid,” said I, and cried still.</p> - -<p>“What art afraid of?”</p> - -<p>“They will know I have money.”</p> - -<p>“Well, and what then?”</p> - -<p>“Then I must sleep no more in the warm glass house, and I shall be -starved with cold. They will take away my money.”</p> - -<p>“But why must you sleep there no more?”</p> - -<p>Here the gentlemen observed to one another how naturally anxiety and -perplexity attend those that have money. “I warrant you,” says the -clerk, “when this poor boy had no money he slept all night in the -straw, or on the warm ashes in the glass-house, as soundly and as void -of care as it would be possible for any creature to do; but now, as -soon as he has gotten money, the care of preserving it brings tears -into his eyes and fear into his heart.”</p> - -<p>They asked me a great many questions more, to which I answered in my -childish way as well as I could, but so as pleased them well enough. -At last I was going away with a heavy pocket, and I assure you not a -light heart, for I was so frighted with having so much money that I -knew not what in the earth to do with myself. I went away, however, -and walked a little way, but I could not tell what to do; so, after -rambling two hours or thereabout, I went back again, and sat down at -the gentleman’s door, and there I cried as long as I had any moisture -in my head to make tears of, but never knocked at the door.</p> - -<p>I had not sat long, I suppose, but somebody belonging to the family -got knowledge of it, and a maid came and talked to me, but I said -little to her, only cried still. At length it came to the gentleman’s -ears. As for the merchant, he was gone. When the gentleman heard of me -he called me in, and began to talk with me again, and asked me what I -stayed for.</p> - -<p>I told him I had not stayed there all that while, for I had been gone -a great while, and was come again.</p> - -<p>“Well,” says he, “but what did you come again for?”</p> - -<p>“I can’t tell,” says I.</p> - -<p>“And what do you cry so for?” said he. “I hope you have not lost your -money, have you?”</p> - -<p>No, I told him, I had not lost it yet, but was afraid I should.</p> - -<p>“And does that make you cry?” says he.</p> - -<p>I told him yes, for I knew I should not be able to keep it, but they -would cheat me of it, or they would kill me and take it away from me -too.</p> - -<p>“They?” says he. “Who? What sort of gangs of people art thou with?”</p> - -<p>I told him they were all boys, but very wicked boys; “thieves and -pickpockets,” said I, “such as stole this letter-case—a sad pack; I -can’t abide them.”</p> - -<p>“Well, Jacque,” said he, “what shall be done for thee? Will you leave -it with me? Shall I keep it for you?”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said I, “with all my heart, if you please.”</p> - -<p>“Come, then,” says he, “give it me; and that you may be sure that I -have it, and you shall have it honestly again, I’ll give you a bill -for it, and for the interest of it, and that you may keep safe enough. -Nay,” added he, “and if you lose it, or anybody takes it from you, -none shall receive the money but yourself, or any part of it.”</p> - -<p>I presently pulled out all the money, and gave it to him, only keeping -about 15s. for myself to buy some clothes; and thus ended the -conference between us on the first occasion, at least for the first -time. Having thus secured my money to my full satisfaction, I was then -perfectly easy, and accordingly the sad thoughts that afflicted my -mind before began to vanish away.</p> - -<p>This was enough to let any one see how all the sorrows and anxieties -of men’s lives come about; how they rise from their restless pushing -at getting of money, and the restless cares of keeping it when they -have got it. I that had nothing, and had not known what it was to have -had anything, knew nothing of the care, either of getting or of -keeping it; I wanted nothing, who wanted everything; I had no care, no -concern about where I should get my victuals or how I should lodge; I -knew not what money was, or what to do with it; and never knew what it -was not to sleep till I had money to keep, and was afraid of losing -it.</p> - -<p>I had, without doubt, an opportunity at this time, if I had not been -too foolish, and too much a child to speak for myself—I had an -opportunity, I say, to have got into the service, or perhaps to be -under some of the care and concern, of these gentlemen; for they -seemed to be very fond of doing some thing for me, and were surprised -at the innocence of my talk to them, as well as at the misery (as they -thought it) of my condition.</p> - -<p>But I acted indeed like a child; and leaving my money, as I have said, -I never went near them for several years after. What course I took, -and what befell me in that interval, has so much variety in it, and -carries so much instruction in it, that it requires an account of it -by itself.</p> - -<p>The first happy chance that offered itself to me in the world was now -over. I had got money, but I neither knew the value of it or the use -of it; the way of living I had begun was so natural to me, I had no -notion of bettering it; I had not so much as any desire of buying me -any clothes—no, not so much as a shirt; and much less had I any -thought of getting any other lodging than in the glass-house, and -loitering about the streets, as I had done; for I knew no good, and -had tasted no evil; that is to say, the life I had led being not evil -in my account.</p> - -<p>In this state of ignorance I returned to my really miserable life; so -it was in itself, and was only not so to me because I did not -understand how to judge of it, and had known no better.</p> - -<p>My comrade that gave me back the bills, and who, if I had not pressed -him, designed never to have restored them, never asked me what I had -given me, but told me if they gave me anything it should be my own; -for, as he said he would not run the venture of being seen in the -restoring them, I deserved the reward if there was any; neither did he -trouble his head with inquiring what I had, or whether I had anything -or no; so my title to what I had got was clear.</p> - -<p>I went now up and down just as I did before. I had money indeed in my -pocket, but I let nobody know it. I went of errands cheerfully as -before, and accepted of what anybody gave me with as much thankfulness -as ever. The only difference that I made with myself was, that if I -was hungry, and nobody employed me, or gave me anything to eat, I -did not beg from door to door, as I did at first, but went to a -boiling-house, as I said once before, and got a mess of broth and a -piece of bread, price a halfpenny; very seldom any meat; or if I -treated myself, it was a halfpennyworth of cheese; all which expense -did not amount to above twopence or three pence a week; for, contrary -to the usage of the rest of the tribe, I was extremely frugal, and I -had not disposed of any of the guineas which I had at first; neither, -as I said to the custom-house gentleman, could I tell what a guinea -was made of, or what it was worth.</p> - -<p>After I had been about a month thus, and had done nothing, my comrade, -as I called him, came to me one morning. “Colonel Jacque,” says he, -“when shall you and I take a walk again?” “When you will,” said I. -“Have you got no business yet?” says he. “No,” says I; and so one -thing bringing on another, he told me I was a fortunate wretch, and he -believed I would be so again, but that he must make a new bargain with -me now; “for,” says he, “colonel, the first time we always let a raw -brother come in for full share to encourage him; but afterwards, -except it be when he puts himself forward well and runs equal hazard, -he stands to courtesy; but as we are gentlemen, we always do very -honourably by one another; and if you are willing to trust it or leave -it to me, I shall do handsomely by you, that you may depend upon.” I -told him I was not able to do anything, that was certain, for I did -not understand it, and therefore I could not expect to get anything, -but I would do as he bade me; so we walked abroad together.</p> - -<p>We went no more to the custom-house; it was too bold a venture. -Besides, I did not care to show myself again, especially with him in -company. But we went directly to the Exchange, and we hankered about -in Castle Alley, and in Swithin’s Alley, and at the coffee-house -doors. It was a very unlucky day, for we got nothing all day but two -or three handkerchiefs, and came home to the old lodgings at the -glass-house; nor had I had anything to eat or drink all day but a -piece of bread which he gave me, and some water at the conduit at the -Exchange Gate. So when he was gone from me, for he did not lie in the -glass-house, as I did, I went to my old broth-house for my usual bait, -and refreshed myself, and the next day early went to meet him again, -as he appointed me.</p> - -<p>Being early in the morning, he took his walk to Billingsgate, where it -seems two sorts of people make a great crowd as soon as it is light, -and at that time a-year rather before daylight; that is to say, crimps -and the masters of coal-ships, whom they call collier-masters; and, -secondly, fishmongers, fish-sellers, and buyers of fish.</p> - -<p>It was the first of these people that he had his eye upon. So he gives -me my orders, which was thus: “Go you,” says he, “into all the -alehouses as we go along, and observe where any people are telling of -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 they call it, so they generally -receive their money in those alehouses; 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 I brought -him word that there was a man in such a house who had received a great -deal of money of somebody, 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?” says he; “I’ll -warrant him I will have some of it;” and in he goes. He walks up and -down the house, which had several open tables and boxes in it, and he -listened to hear, if he could, what the man’s name was; and he heard -somebody call him Cullum, or some such name. Then he watches his -opportunity, and steps up to him, and tells him a long story, that -there was two gentlemen at the Gun tavern sent him to inquire for him, -and to tell him they desired to speak with him.</p> - -<p>The collier-master had his money lay 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 lay by themselves; and as it was -hardly broad day, he found means in delivering his message to lay his -hands upon one of those bags, and carry it off perfectly undiscovered.</p> - -<p>When we had got it he came out to me, who stood but at the door, and -pulling me by the sleeve, “Run, Jacque,” says he, “for our lives;” and -away he scours, and I after him, never resting, or scarce looking -about me, till we got quite up into Fenchurch Street, through Lime -Street into Leadenhall Street, down St. Mary Axe to London Wall, then -through Bishopsgate Street and down Old Bedlam into Moorfields. By -this time we were neither of us able to run very fast; nor need we -have gone so far, for I never found that anybody pursued us. When we -got into Moorfields and began to take breath, I asked him what it was -frighted him so. “Fright me, you fool!” says he; “I have got a -devilish great bag of money.” “A bag!” said I. “Ay, ay,” said he; “let -us get out into the fields where nobody can see us, and I’ll show it -you.” So away he had me through Long Alley, and cross Hog Lane and -Holloway Lane, into the middle of the great field, which since that -has been called the Farthing Pie-House Fields. There we would have sat -down, but it was all full of water; so we went on, crossed the road at -Anniseed Cleer, and went into the field where now the great hospital -stands; and finding a by-place, we sat down, and he pulls out the bag. -“Thou art a lucky boy, Jacque,” says he; “thou deservest a good share -of this job, truly; for it is all along of thy lucky news.” So he -pours it all out into my hat; for, as I told you, I now wore a hat.</p> - -<p>How he did to whip away such a bag of money from any man that was -awake and in his senses I cannot tell; but there was a great deal in -it, and among it a paperful by itself. When the paper dropped out of -the bag, “Hold,” says he, “that is gold!” and began to crow and hollow -like a mad boy. But there he was baulked; for it was a paper of old -thirteenpence-halfpenny pieces, half and quarter pieces, with -ninepences and fourpence-halfpennies—all old crooked money, Scotch -and Irish coin; so he was disappointed in that. But as it was there -was about £17 or £18 in the bag, as I understood by him; for I could -not tell money, not I.</p> - -<p>Well, he parted this money into three; that is to say, into three -shares—two for himself and one for me, and asked if I was content. I -told him yes, I had reason to be contented. Besides, it was so much -money added to that I had left of his former adventure that I knew not -what to do with it, or with myself, while I had so much about me.</p> - -<p>This was a most exquisite fellow for a thief; for he had the greatest -dexterity at conveying anything away that he scarce ever pitched upon -anything in his eye but he carried it off with his hands, and never -that I know of missed his aim or was caught in the fact.</p> - -<p>He was an eminent pickpocket, and very dexterous at ladies’ gold -watches; but he generally pushed higher at such desperate things as -these; and he came off the cleanest and with the greatest success -imaginable; and it was in these kinds of the wicked art of thieving -that I became his scholar.</p> - -<p>As we were now so rich, he would not let me lie any longer in the -glass-house, or go naked and ragged as I had done, but obliged me to -buy two shirts, a waistcoat, and a greatcoat; for a greatcoat was more -for our purpose in the business we was upon than any other. So I -clothed myself as he directed, and he took me a lodging in the same -house with him, and we lodged together in a little garret fit for our -quality.</p> - -<p>Soon after this we walked out again, and then we tried our fortune in -the places by the Exchange a second time. Here we began to act -separately, and I undertook to walk by myself; and the first thing I -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 slipt it into his coat-pocket -again, and then out it came again, and papers were taken out and -others were 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, he might be said to throw it in rather than put it in -with his hand, and the book lay end-way, 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.</p> - -<p>This careless way of men putting their pocket-books into a -coat-pocket, which is so easily dived into by the least boy that has -been used to the trade, can never be too much blamed. The gentlemen -are in great hurries, their heads and thoughts entirely taken up, and -it is impossible they should be guarded enough against such little -hawk’s-eyed creatures as we were; and, therefore, they ought either -never to put their pocket-books up at all, or to put them up more -secure, or to put nothing of value into them. I happened to be just -opposite to this gentleman in that they call Swithin’s Alley, or that -alley rather which is between Swithin’s Alley and the Exchange, just -by a passage that goes out of the alley into the Exchange, when, -seeing the book pass and repass into the pocket and out of the pocket -as above, it came immediately into my head, certainly I might get that -pocket-book out if I were nimble, and I warrant Will would have it, if -he saw it go and come to and again as I did. But when I saw it hang by -the way, as I have said, “Now it is mine,” said I to myself, and, -crossing the alley, I brushed smoothly but closely by the man, with my -hand down flat to my own side, and, taking hold of it by the corner -that appeared, the book came so light into my hand, it was impossible -the gentleman should feel the least motion, or anybody else see me -take it away. I went directly forward into the broad place on the -north side of the Exchange, then scoured down Bartholomew Lane, so -into Tokenhouse Yard, into the alleys which pass through from thence -to London Wall, so through Moorgate, and sat down on the grass in the -second of the quarters of Moorfields, towards the middle field; which -was the place that Will and I had appointed to meet at if either of us -got any booty. When I came thither Will was not come; but I saw him -coming in about half-an-hour.</p> - -<p>As soon as Will came to me I asked him what booty he had gotten. He -looked pale, and, as I thought, frighted; but he returned, “I have got -nothing, not I; but, you lucky young dog,” says he, “what have you -got? Have not you got the gentleman’s pocket-book in Swithin’s Alley?” -“Yes,” says I, and laughed at him; “why, how did you know it?” “Know -it!” says he. “Why, the gentleman is raving and half distracted; he -stamps and cries and tears his very clothes. He says he is utterly -undone and ruined, and the folks in the alley say there is I know not -how many thousand pounds in it. What can be in it?” says Will. “Come, -let us see.”</p> - -<p>Well, we lay close in the grass in the middle of the quarter, so that -nobody minded us; and so we opened the pocket-book, and there was a -great many bills and notes under men’s hands; some goldsmiths’, and -some belonging to insurance offices, as they call them, and the like. -But that which was, it seems, worth all the rest was that, in one of -the folds of the cover of the book, where there was a case with -several partitions, there was a paper full of loose diamonds. The man, -as we understood afterward, was a Jew, who dealt in such goods, and -who indeed ought to have taken more care of the keeping of them.</p> - -<p>Now was this booty too great, even for Will himself, to manage; for -though by this time I was come to understand things better than I did -formerly, when I knew not what belonged to money, yet Will was better -skilled by far in those things than I. But this puzzled him too, as -well as me. Now were we something like the cock in the fable; for all -these bills, and I think there was one bill of Sir Henry Furness’s for -£1200, and all these diamonds, which were worth about £150, as they -said—I say, all these things were of no value to us: one little purse -of gold would have been better to us than all of it. “But come,” says -Will, “let us look over the bills for a little one.”</p> - -<p>We looked over all the bills, and among them we found a bill under a -man’s hand for £32. “Come,” says Will, “let us go and inquire where -this man lives.” So he went into the City again, and Will went to the -post-house, and asked there. They told him he lived at Temple Bar. -“Well,” says Will, “I will venture. I’ll go and receive the money; it -may be he has not remembered to send to stop the payment there.”</p> - -<p>But it came into his thoughts to take another course. “Come,” says -Will, “I’ll go back to the alley, and see if I can hear anything of -what has happened, for I believe the hurry is not over yet.” It seems -the man who lost the book was carried into the King’s Head tavern at -the end of that alley, and a great crowd was about the door.</p> - -<p>Away goes Will, and watches and waits about the place; and then, -seeing several people together, for they were not all dispersed, he -asks one or two what was the matter. They tell him a long story of a -gentleman who had lost his pocket-book, with a great bag of diamonds -in it, and bills for a great many thousand pounds, and I know not -what; and that they had been just crying it, and had offered £100 -reward to any one who would discover and restore it.</p> - -<p>“I wish,” said he to one of them that parleyed with him, “I did but -know who has it; I don’t doubt but I could help him to it again. Does -he remember nothing of anybody, boy or fellow, that was near him? If -he could but describe him, it might do.” Somebody that overheard him -was so forward to assist the poor gentleman that they went up and let -him know what a young fellow, meaning Will, had been talking at the -door; and down comes another gentleman from him, and, taking Will -aside, asked him what he had said about it. Will was a grave sort of a -young man, that, though he was an old soldier at the trade, had yet -nothing of it in his countenance; and he answered that he was -concerned in business where a great many of the gangs of little -pickpockets haunted, and if he had but the least description of the -person they suspected, he durst say he could find him out, and might -perhaps get the things again for him. Upon this he desired him to go -up with him to the gentleman, which he did accordingly; and there, he -said, he sat leaning his head back to the chair, pale as a cloth, -disconsolate to a strange degree, and, as Will described him, just -like one under a sentence.</p> - -<p>When they came to ask him whether he had seen no boy or shabby fellow -lurking near where he stood, or passing, or repassing, and the like, -he answered, “No, not any.” Neither could he remember that anybody had -come near him. “Then,” said Will, “it will be very hard, if not -impossible, to find them out. However,” said Will, “if you think it -worth while, I will put myself among those rogues, though,” says he, -“I care not for being seen among them. But I will put in among them, -and if it be in any of those gangs, it is ten to one but I shall hear -something of it.”</p> - -<p>They asked him then if he had heard what terms the gentleman had -offered to have it restored; he answered, “No” (though he had been -told at the door). They answered, he had offered £100. “That is too -much,” says Will; “but if you please to leave it to me, I shall either -get it for you for less than that, or not be able to get it for you at -all.” Then the losing gentleman said to one of the other, “Tell him -that if he can get it lower, the overplus shall be to himself.” -William said he would be very glad to do the gentleman such a service, -and would leave the reward to himself. “Well, young man,” says one of -the gentlemen, “whatever you appoint to the young artist that has done -this roguery (for I warrant he is an artist, let it be who it will), -he shall be paid, if it be within the £100, and the gentleman is -willing to give you £50 besides for your pains.”</p> - -<p>“Truly, sir,” says Will very gravely, “it was by mere chance that, -coming by the door, and seeing the crowd, I asked what the matter was. -But if I should be instrumental to get the unfortunate gentleman his -pocket-book and the things in it again, I shall be very glad; nor am I -so rich neither, sir, but £50 is very well worth my while too.” Then -he took directions who to come to, and who to give his account to if -he learned anything, and the like.</p> - -<p>Will stayed so long that, as he and I agreed, I went home, and he did -not come to me till night; for we had considered before that it would -not be proper to come from them directly to me, lest they should -follow him and apprehend me. If he had made no advances towards a -treaty, he would have come back in half-an-hour, as we agreed; but -staying late, we met at our night rendezvous, which was in Rosemary -Lane.</p> - -<p>When he came he gave an account of all the discourse, and particularly -what a consternation the gentleman was in who lost the pocket-book, -and that he did not doubt but we should get a good round sum for the -recovery of it.</p> - -<p>We consulted all the evening about it, and concluded he should let -them hear nothing of them the next day at all; and that the third day -he should go, but should make no discovery; only that he had got a -scent of it, and that he believed he should have it, and make it -appear as difficult as possible, and to start as many objections as he -could. Accordingly, the third day after he met with the gentleman, -who, he found, had been uneasy at his long stay, and told him they -were afraid that he only flattered them to get from them, and that -they had been too easy in letting him go without a further -examination.</p> - -<p>He took upon him to be very grave with them, and told them that if -that was what he was like to have for being so free as to tell them he -thought he might serve them, they might see that they had wronged him, -and were mistaken by his coming again to them; that if they thought -they could do any thing by examining him, they might go about it, if -they pleased, now; that all he had to say to them was, that he knew -where some of the young rogues haunted who were famous for such -things; and that by some inquiries, offering them money, and the like, -he believed they would be brought to betray one another, and that so -he might pick it out for them; and this he would say before a justice -of peace, if they thought fit; and then all that he had to say further -to them was to tell them he had lost a day or two in their service, -and had got nothing but to be suspected for his pains, and that after -that he had done, and they might seek their goods where they could -find them.</p> - -<p>They began to listen a little upon that, and asked him if he could -give them any hopes of recovering their loss. He told them that he was -not afraid to tell them that he believed he had heard some news of -them, and that what he had done had prevented all the bills being -burnt, book and all; but that now he ought not to be asked any more -questions till they should be pleased to answer him a question or two. -They told him they would give him any satisfaction they could, and bid -him tell what he desired.</p> - -<p>“Why, sir,” says he, “how can you expect any thief that had robbed you -to such a considerable value as this would come and put himself into -your hands, confess he had your goods, and restore them to you, if you -do not give them assurance that you will not only give them the reward -you agreed to, but also give assurance that they shall not be stopped, -questioned, or called to account before a magistrate?”</p> - -<p>They said they would give all possible assurance of it. “Nay,” says -he, “I do not know what assurance you are able to give; for when a -poor fellow is in your clutches and has shown you your goods, you may -seize upon him for a thief, and it is plain he must be so. Then you -go, take away your goods, send him to prison, and what amends can he -have of you afterward?”</p> - -<p>They were entirely confounded with the difficulty; they asked him to -try if he could get the things into his hands, and they would pay him -the money before he let them go out of his hand, and he should go away -half-an-hour before they went out of the room.</p> - -<p>“No, gentlemen,” says he, “that won’t do now. If you had talked so -before you had talked of apprehending me for nothing, I should have -taken your words; but now it is plain you have had such a thought in -your heads, and how can I, or any one else, be assured of safety?”</p> - -<p>Well, they thought of a great many particulars, but nothing would do. -At length the other people who were present put in, that they should -give security to him, by a bond of £1000, that they would not give the -person any trouble whatsoever. He pretended they could not be bound, -nor could their obligation be of any value, and that their own goods -being once seen, they might seize them. “And what would it signify,” -said he, “to put a poor pick pocket to sue for his reward?” They could -not tell what to say, but told him that he should take the things of -the boy, if it was a boy, and they would be bound to pay him the money -promised. He laughed at them, and said, “No, gentlemen; as I am not -the thief, so I shall be very loth to put myself in the thief’s stead -and lie at your mercy.”</p> - -<p>They told him they knew not what to do then, and that it would be very -hard he would not trust them at all. He said he was very willing to -trust them and to serve them, but that it would be very hard to be -ruined and charged with the theft for endeavouring to serve them.</p> - -<p>They then offered to give it him under their hands that they did not -in the least suspect him; that they would never charge him with -anything about it; that they acknowledged he went about to inquire -after the goods at their request; and that if he produced them, they -would pay him so much money, at or before the delivery of them, -without obliging him to name or produce that person he had them from.</p> - -<p>Upon this writing, signed by three gentlemen who were present, and by -the person in particular who lost the things, the young gentleman told -them he would go and do his utmost to get the pocket-book and all that -was in it.</p> - -<p>Then he desired that they would in writing, beforehand, give him a -particular of all the several things that were in the book, that he -might not have it said, when he produced it, that there was not all; -and he would have the said writing sealed up, and he would make the -book be sealed up when it was given to him. This they agreed to; and -the gentleman accordingly drew up a particular of all the bills that -he remembered, as he said, was in the book, and also of the diamonds, -as follows:—</p> - -<p>One bill under Sir Henry Furness’s hand for £1200.</p> - -<p>One bill under Sir Charles Duncomb’s hand for £800, £250 endorsed off -= £550.</p> - -<p>One bill under the hand of J. Tassel, goldsmith, £165.</p> - -<p>One bill of Sir Francis Child, £39.</p> - -<p>One bill of one Stewart, that kept a wager-office and insurance, £350.</p> - -<p>A paper containing thirty-seven loose diamonds, value about £250.</p> - -<p>A little paper containing three large rough diamonds, and one large -one polished and cut, value £185.</p> - -<p>For all these things they promised, first, to give him whatever he -agreed with the thief to give him, not exceeding £50, and to give him -£50 more for himself for procuring them.</p> - -<p>Now he had his cue, and now he came to me, and told me honestly the -whole story as above. So I delivered him the book, and he told me that -he thought it was reasonable we should not take the full sum, because -he would seem to have done them some service, and so make them the -easier. All this I agreed to; so he went the next day to the place, -and the gentlemen met him very punctually.</p> - -<p>He told them at the first word he had done their work, and, as he -hoped, to their mind; and told them, if it had not been for the -diamonds, he could have got all for £10; but that the diamonds had -shone so bright in the boy’s imagination that he talked of running -away to France or Holland, and living there all his days like a -gentleman; at which they laughed. “However, gentlemen,” said he, “here -is the book;” and so pulled it out, wrapt up in a dirty piece of a -coloured handkerchief, as black as the street could make it, and -sealed with a piece of sorry wax, and the impression of a farthing for -a seal.</p> - -<p>Upon this, the note being also unsealed, at the same time he pulled -open the dirty rag, and showed the gentleman his pocket-book; at which -he was so over-surprised with joy, notwithstanding all the preparatory -discourse, that he was fain to call for a glass of wine or brandy to -drink, to keep him from fainting.</p> - -<p>The book being opened, the paper of diamonds was first taken out, and -there they were every one; only the little paper was by itself; and -the rough diamonds that were in it were loose among the rest, but he -owned they were all there safe.</p> - -<p>Then the bills were called over one by one, and they found one bill -for £80 more than the account mentioned, besides several papers which -were not for money, though of consequence to the gentleman; and he -acknowledged that all was very honestly returned. “And now, young -man,” said they, “you shall see we will deal as honestly by you;” and -so, in the first place, they gave him £50 for himself, and then they -told out the £50 for me.</p> - -<p>He took the £50 for himself, and put it up in his pocket, wrapping it -in paper, it being all in gold; then he began to tell over the other -£50. But when he had told out £30, “Hold, gentlemen,” said he, “as I -have acted fairly for you, so you shall have no reason to say I do not -do so to the end. I have taken £30, and for so much I agreed with the -boy; and so there is £20 of your money again.”</p> - -<p>They stood looking one at another a good while, as surprised at the -honesty of it; for till that time they were not quite without a secret -suspicion that he was the thief; but that piece of policy cleared up -his reputation to them. The gentleman that had got his bills said -softly to one of them, “Give it him all.” But the other said (softly -too), “No, no; as long as he has got it abated, and is satisfied with -the £50 you have given him, ’tis very well; let it go as it ’tis.” -This was not spoke so softly but he heard it, and said, “No,” too; “I -am very well satisfied; I am glad I have got them for you;” and so -they began to part.</p> - -<p>But just before they were going away one of the gentlemen said to him, -“Young man, come, you see we are just to you, and have done fairly, as -you have also; and we will not desire you to tell us who this cunning -fellow is that got such a prize from this gentleman; but as you have -talked with him, prithee, can you tell us nothing of how he did it, -that we may beware of such sparks again?”</p> - -<p>“Sir,” says Will, “when I shall tell you what they say, and how the -particular case stood, the gentleman would blame himself more than -anybody else, or as much at least. The young rogue that catched this -prize was out, it seems, with a comrade, who is a nimble, experienced -pickpocket as most in London; but at that time the artist was -somewhere at a distance, and this boy never had picked a pocket in his -life before; but he says he stood over against the passage into the -Exchange, on the east side, and the gentleman stood just by the -passage; that he was very earnest in talking with some other -gentleman, and often pulled out this book and opened it, and took -papers out and put others in, and returned it into his coat-pocket; -that the last time it hitched at the pocket-hole, or stopt at -something that was in the pocket, and hung a little out, which the -boy, who had watched it a good while perceiving, he passes by close to -the gentleman, and carried it smoothly off, without the gentleman’s -perceiving it at all.”</p> - -<p>He went on, and said, “’Tis very strange gentlemen should put -pocket-books which have such things in them into those loose pockets, -and in so careless a manner.” “That’s very true,” says the gentleman; -and so, with some other discourse of no great signification, he came -away to me.</p> - -<p>We were now so rich that we scarce knew what to do with our money; at -least I did not, for I had no relations, no friends, nowhere to put -anything I had but in my pocket. As for Will, he had a poor mother, -but wicked as himself, and he made her rich and glad with his good -success.</p> - -<p>We divided this booty equally; for though the gaining it was mine, yet -the improving of it was his, and his management brought the money; for -neither he or I could have made anything proportionable of the thing -any other way. As for the bills, there was no room to doubt but unless -they had been carried that minute to the goldsmith’s for the money, he -would have come with notice to stop the payment, and perhaps have come -while the money was receiving, and have taken hold of the person. And -then as to the diamonds, there had been no offering them to sale by us -poor boys to anybody but those who were our known receivers, and they -would have given us nothing for them compared to what they were worth; -for, as I understood afterwards, those who made a trade of buying -stolen goods took care to have false weights, and cheat the poor devil -that stole them at least an ounce in three.</p> - -<p>Upon the whole, we made the best of it many ways besides. I had a -strange kind of uninstructed conscience at that time; for though I -made no scruple of getting anything in this manner from anybody, yet I -could not bear destroying their bills and papers, which were things -that would do them a great deal of hurt, and do me no good; and I was -so tormented about it that I could not rest night or day while I made -the people easy from whom the things were taken.</p> - -<p>I was now rich, so rich that I knew not what to do with my money or -with myself. I had lived so near and so close, that although, as I -said, I did now and then lay out twopence or threepence for mere -hunger, yet I had so many people who, as I said, employed me, and who -gave me victuals and sometimes clothes, that in a whole year I had not -quite spent the 15s. which I had saved of the custom-house gentleman’s -money; and I had the four guineas which was of the first booty before -that still in my pocket—I mean the money that I let fall into the -tree.</p> - -<p>But now I began to look higher; and though Will and I went abroad -several times together, yet, when small things offered, as -handkerchiefs and such trifles, we would not meddle with them, not -caring to run the risk for small matters. It fell out one day that, as -we were strolling about in West Smithfield on a Friday, there happened -to be an ancient country gentleman 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 Suffolk. His -worship, for so they called him, had received the money for these -bullocks at a tavern, whose sign I forget 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 stands to cough, resting his hand with the bag of money -in it upon the 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. Says Will to me, “Stand ready.” Upon this he -makes an artificial stumble, and falls 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.</p> - -<p>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 gave it a quick snatch, pulled it clean away, and ran like -the wind down the Cloisters with it; turned on the left hand, as soon -as I was through, and cut into Little Britain, so into Bartholomew -Close, then across Aldersgate Street, through Paul’s Alley into -Redcross Street, and so across all the streets, through innumerable -alleys, and never stopped till I got into the second quarter of -Moorfields, our old agreed rendezvous.</p> - -<p>Will, in the meantime, fell down with the old gentleman, but soon got -up. The old knight, for such, it seems, he was, was frighted with the -fall, and his breath so stopped with his cough that he could not -recover himself to speak till some 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 anything for a good while; but, coughing -vehemently and looking red, till he was almost black in the face, he -cried, “The ro—hegh, hegh, hegh—the rogues—hegh—have got—hegh, -hegh, hegh, hegh, hegh, hegh;” then he would get a little breath, and -at it again: “The rogues—hegh, hegh;” and, after a great many heghs -and rogues, he brought it out—“have got away my bag of money!”</p> - -<p>All this 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 in the -grass again, and turned out the money, which proved to be eight -guineas, and £5, 12s. in silver, so that it made just £14 together. -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, nor so much as anything offered itself -for an attempt.</p> - -<p>We took many walks of this kind, sometimes together, at a little -distance from one another, and several small hits we made; but we were -so flushed with our success that truly we were above meddling with -trifles, as I said before—no, not such things that others would have -been glad of; nothing but pocket-books, letter-cases, or sums of money -would move us.</p> - -<p>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 -afterward, 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 comes to a goldsmith’s shop in Lombard Street -with it; paid in the most of it there; insomuch that it grew dark, and -the goldsmith began to be shutting in shop, and candles to be lighted. -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 -still some time longer, to take notes, as I supposed, for what he had -paid; and by this time it was still darker than before. At last he -comes out of the shop, with still a pretty large bag under his arm, -and walks over into the court, which was then very dark. In the middle -of the court is a boarded entry, and farther, 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.</p> - -<p>“Keep up,” says Will to me; “be nimble;” and as soon as he had said so -he flies at the young man, and gives him such a violent thrust that -pushed him forward with too great a force for him to stand; and as he -strove to recover, the threshold took his feet, and he fell forward -into the other part of the court, as if he had flown in the air, with -his head lying towards the Quakers’ meeting-house. I stood ready, and -presently felt out the bag of money, which I heard fall; for it flew -out of his hand, he having his life to save, not his money. I went -forward with the money, and Will, that threw him down, finding I had -it, run backward, and as I made along Fenchurch Street, Will overtook -me, and we scoured home together. The poor young man was hurt a little -with the fall, and reported to his master, as we heard afterward, that -he was knocked down, which was not true, for neither Will or I had any -stick in our hands; but the master of the youth was, it seems, so very -thankful that his young man was not knocked down before he paid the -rest of the money (which was above £100 more) to the goldsmith, who -was Sir John Sweetapple, that he made no great noise at the loss he -had, and, as we heard afterward, only warned his apprentice to be more -careful and come no more through such places in the dark; whereas the -man had really no such deliverance as he imagined, for we saw him -before, when he had all the money about him; but it was no time of day -for such work as we had to do, so that he was in no danger before.</p> - -<p>This booty amounted to £29, 16s., which was £14 18s. apiece, and added -exceedingly to my store, which began now to be very much too big for -my management; and indeed I began to be now full of care for the -preservation of what I had got. I wanted a trusty friend to commit it -to; but where was such a one to be found by a poor boy bred up among -thieves? If I should have let any honest body know that I had so much -money, they would have asked me how I came by it, and would have been -afraid to take it into their hands, lest I being some time or other -catched in my rogueries, they should be counted the receivers of -stolen goods and the encouragers of a thief.</p> - -<p>We had, however, in the meantime a great many other successful -enterprises, some of one kind, some of another, and were never so much -as in danger of being apprehended; but my companion Will, who was now -grown a man, and encouraged by these advantages, fell into quite -another vein of wickedness, getting acquainted with a wretched gang of -fellows that turned their hands to everything that was vile.</p> - -<p>Will was a lusty, strong fellow, and withal very bold and daring, -would fight anybody and venture upon anything; and I found he began to -be above the mean rank of a poor pickpocket, so I saw him but seldom. -However, once coming to me in a very friendly manner, and asking me -how I went on, I told him that I used the old trade still, that I had -had two or three good jobs: one with a young woman, whose pocket I had -picked of eleven guineas; and another, a countrywoman, just come out -of a stage-coach, seeing her pull out her bag to pay the coachman; and -that I followed her till I got an opportunity, and slipped it out so -neatly that though there was £8, 17s. in it, yet she never felt it go. -And several other jobs I told him of, by which I made pretty good -purchase. “I always said you were a lucky boy, Colonel Jacque,” says -he; “but, come, you are grown almost a man now, and you shall not be -always at play at push-pin. I am got into better business, I assure -you, and you shall come into it too. I’ll bring you into a brave gang, -Jacque,” says he, “where you shall see we shall be all gentlemen.”</p> - -<p>Then he told me the trade itself, in short, which was with a set of -fellows that had two of the most desperate works upon their hands that -belonged to the whole art of thieving; that is to say, in the evening -they were footpads, and in the night they were housebreakers. Will -told me so many plausible stories, and talked of such great things, -that, in short, I, who had been always used to do anything he bid me -do, went with him without any hesitation.</p> - -<p>Nothing is more certain than that hitherto, being partly from the -gross ignorance of my untaught childhood, as I observed before, partly -from the hardness and wickedness of the company I kept; and add to -these that it was the business I might be said to be brought up to—I -had, I say, all the way hitherto, no manner of thoughts about the good -or evil of what I was embarked in; consequently I had no sense of -conscience, no reproaches upon my mind for having done amiss.</p> - -<p>Yet I had something in me, by what secret influence I knew not, kept -me from the other degrees of raking and vice, and, in short, from the -general wickedness of the rest of my companions. For example, I never -used any ill words, nobody ever heard me swear, nor was I given to -drink, or to love strong drink; and I cannot omit a circumstance that -very much served to prevent it. I had a strange original notion, as I -have mentioned in its place, of my being a gentleman; and several -things had casually happened in my way to increase this fancy of mine. -It happened one day, that being in the Glass-house Yard, between -Rosemary Lane and Ratcliff Highway, there came a man dressed very -well, and with a coach attending him, and he came (as I suppose) to -buy glass-bottles, or some other goods, as they sold; and in -bargaining for his goods, he swore most horrid oaths at every two or -three words. At length the master of the glass-house, an ancient, -grave gentleman, took the liberty to reprove him, which at first made -him swear the worse. After a while the gentleman was a little calmer, -but still he swore very much, though not so bad as at first. After -some time the master of the glass-house turned from him—“Really, -sir,” says the good old gentleman, “you swear so, and take God’s name -in vain so, that I cannot bear to stay with you. I would rather you -would let my goods alone and go somewhere else. I hope you won’t take -it ill, but I don’t desire to deal with anybody that does so. I am -afraid my glass-house should fall on your head while you stay in it.”</p> - -<p>The gentleman grew good-humoured at the reproof, and said, “Well, -come, don’t go away; I won’t swear any more,” says he, “if I can help -it; for I own,” says he, “I should not do it.”</p> - -<p>With that the old gentleman looked up at him, and, returning, “Really, -sir,” says he, “’tis pity you, that seem to be a fine gentleman, -well-bred and good-humoured, should accustom yourself to such a -hateful practice. Why, ’tis not like a gentleman to swear; ’tis enough -for my black wretches that work there at the furnace, or for these -ragged, naked, blackguard boys,” pointing at me, and some others of -the dirty crew that lay in the ashes. “’Tis bad enough for them,” says -he, “and they ought to be corrected for it, too; but for a man of -breeding, sir,” says he, “a gentleman, it ought to be looked upon as -below them. Gentlemen know better, and are taught better, and it is -plain you know better. I beseech you, sir, when you are tempted to -swear, always ask yourself, ‘Is this like a gentleman? Does this -become me as a gentleman?’ Do but ask yourself that question, and your -reason will prevail—you will soon leave it off.”</p> - -<p>I heard all this, and it made the blood run chill in my veins when he -said swearing was only fit for such as we were. In short, it made as -great an impression upon me as it did upon the gentleman; and yet he -took it very kindly too, and thanked the old gentleman for his advice. -But from that time forward I never had the least inclination to -swearing or ill words, and abhorred it when I heard other boys do it. -As to drinking, I had no opportunity; for I had nothing to drink but -water, or small-beer that anybody gave me in charity, for they seldom -gave away strong beer; and after I had money, I neither desired strong -beer or cared to part with my money to buy it.</p> - -<p>Then as to principle, ’tis true I had no foundation laid in me by -education; and being early led by my fate into evil, I had the less -sense of its being evil left upon my mind. But when I began to grow to -an age of understanding, and to know that I was a thief, growing up in -all manner of villainy, and ripening apace for the gallows, it came -often into my thoughts that I was going wrong, that I was in the -high-road to the devil; and several times I would stop short, and ask -myself if this was the life of a gentleman.</p> - -<p>But these little things wore off again as often as they came on, and I -followed the old trade again, especially when Will came to prompt me, -as I have observed, for he was a kind of a guide to me in all these -things; and I had, by custom and application, together with seeing his -way, learned to be as acute a workman as my master.</p> - -<p>But to go back where I left off. Will came to me, as I have said, and -telling me how much better business he was fallen into, would have me -go along with him, and I should be a gentleman. Will, it seems, -understood that word in a quite different manner from me; for his -gentleman was nothing more or less than a gentleman thief, a villain -of a higher degree than a pickpocket, and one that might do something -more wicked, and better entitling him to the gallows, than could be -done in our way. But my gentleman that I had my eye upon was another -thing quite, though I could not really tell how to describe it either.</p> - -<p>However, the word took with me, and I went with him. We were neither -of us old. Will was about twenty-four; and as for me, I was now about -eighteen, and pretty tall of my age.</p> - -<p>The first time I went with him, he brought me into the company only 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 toward a -place called Pindar of Wakefield, where are abundance of brick-kilns. -Here it was agreed to spread from the field-path to the roadway, all -the way towards Pancras Church, to observe any chance game, as they -called it, which 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. 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.</p> - -<p>Will steps up to the gentleman, stops 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 in 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 -that moment, while this was doing, comes a hackney-coach along the -road, and the fourth man, who was that way, cries, “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 considerable patient, and, I suppose, had had considerable -fees. For here they got two good 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 most of it full -of silver instruments.</p> - -<p>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 over on that side. -Then he carried him a little out of the way, 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.</p> - -<p>The poor man promised to lie still and make no noise, and did so; and -had not above 11s. 6d. in his pocket, which Will took, and came back -to the rest; but while they were together, I, who was on the side of -the Pindar of Wakefield, cried, “Mark, ho!” too.</p> - -<p>What I saw was a couple of poor women, one a kind of a nurse, and the -other a maid-servant, going for Kentish Town. As Will knew that 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.” I went up to -them, and speaking to the elderly woman, “Nurse,” said I, “don’t be -in such haste. I want to speak with you;” at which they both stopped, -and looked a little frighted. “Don’t be frighted, sweetheart,” said I -to the maid; “a little of that money in the bottom of your pocket will -make all easy, and I will do you no harm.” By this time Will came up -to us, for they did not see him before; then they began to scream out. -“Hold!” says 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 5s. 6d., and the old woman a guinea and a shilling, crying -heartily for her money, and said it was all she had left in the world. -Well, we took it for all that, though it made my very heart bleed to -see what agony the poor woman was in at parting with it, and I asked -her where she lived. She said her name was Smith, and she lived at -Kentish Town. I said nothing to her, but bid them go on about their -business, and I gave Will the money. So in a few minutes we were all -together again. Says one of the other rogues, “Come, this is well -enough for one road; it’s time to be gone.” So we jogged away, -crossing the fields, out of the path towards Tottenham Court. “But -hold!” says Will; “I must go and untie the man.” “D—n him,” says one -of them, “let him lie.” “No,” says Will, “I won’t 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 to call twice for him aloud.</p> - -<p>This made us hasten away the faster, and getting into Tottenham Court -Road, they thought it was a little too near, so they made into the -town at St. Giles’s, and crossing to Piccadilly, went to Hyde Park -gate. Here they ventured to rob another coach; that is 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 whore that he -had picked up, it seems, at the Spring Garden, a little farther. They -took the gentleman’s money, his watch, and his silver-hilted sword; -but when they come to the slut, she damned and cursed them for robbing -the gentleman of his money and leaving him none for her. As for -herself, she had not one sixpenny piece about her, though she was -indeed well enough dressed too.</p> - -<p>Having made this adventure, we left that road too, and went over the -fields to Chelsea. In the way from Westminster to Chelsea we met three -gentlemen, but they were too strong for us to meddle with. They had -been afraid to come over the fields so late (for by this time it was -eight o’clock, and though the moon gave some light, yet it was too -late and too dark to be safe); so they hired three men at Chelsea, two -with pitchforks, and the third, a waterman, with a boathook staff to -guard them. We would have steered clear of them, and cared not to have -them see us, if we could help it. But they did see us, and cried, “Who -comes there?” We answered, “Friends;” and so they went on, to our -great satisfaction.</p> - -<p>When we came to Chelsea, it seems we had other work to do, which I had -not been made privy to; and this was a house to be robbed. They had -some intelligence, it seems, with a servant in the house, who was of -their gang. This rogue was a waiting-man, or footman, and he had a -watchword to let them in by; but this fellow, not for want of being a -villain, but by getting drunk and not minding his part of the work, -disappointed us. For he had promised to rise at two o’clock in the -morning and let us all in; but, being very drunk, and not come in at -eleven o’clock, his master ordered him to be shut out and the doors -locked up, and charged the other servants not to let him in upon any -terms whatsoever.</p> - -<p>We came about the house at one o’clock to make our observations, -intending to go and lie under Beaufort House wall till the clock -struck two, and then to come again; but, behold! when we came to the -house, there lay the fellow at the door fast asleep, and very drunk. -Will, who, I found, was the leader in all these things, waked the -fellow, who, as he had had about two hours’ sleep, was a little come -to himself, and told them the misfortune, as he called it, and that he -could not get in. They had some instruments about them, by which they -could have broken in by force; but Will considered that as it was but -waiting till another time, and they should be let in quietly, they -resolved to give it over for that time.</p> - -<p>But this was a happy drunken bout for the family; for the fellow -having let fall some words in his drink (for he was a saucy one as -well as a drunken one, and talked oddly), as that it had been better -they had let him in, and he would make them pay dear for it, or some -such thing, the master hearing of it, turned him away in the morning, -and never let him come into his house again. So, I say, it was a happy -drunkenness to the family, for it saved them from being robbed, and -perhaps murdered; for they were a cursed, bloody crew, and, as I -found, were about thirteen of them in all, whereof three of them made -it their business to get into gentlemen’s services, and so to open -doors in the night, and let the other rogues in upon them to rob and -destroy them.</p> - -<p>I rambled this whole night with them. They went from Chelsea, being -disappointed there as above, to Kensington. There they broke into a -brewhouse and washhouse, and by that means into an out-kitchen of a -gentleman’s house, where they unhanged a small copper, and brought it -off, and stole about a hundredweight of pewter, and went clear off -with that too. And every one going their own by-ways, they found means -to get safe to their several receptacles where they used to dispose of -such things.</p> - -<p>We lay still the next day, and shared the effects stolen that night, -of which my share came to £8, 19s. The copper and pewter being -weighed, and cast up, a person was at hand to take it as money, at -about half value, and in the afternoon Will and I came away together. -Will was mighty full of the success we had had, and how we might be -sure of the like this way every day. But he observed that I did not -seem so elevated at the success of that night’s ramble as I used to -be, and also that I did not take any great notice of the expectations -he was in of what was to come. Yet I had said little to him at that -time.</p> - -<p>But my heart was full of the poor woman’s case at Kentish Town, and I -resolved, if possible, to find her out and give her her money. With -the abhorrence that filled my mind at the cruelty of that act, there -necessarily followed a little distaste for the thing itself; and now -it came into my head with a double force that this was the high road -to the devil, and that certainly this was not the life of a gentleman.</p> - -<p>Will and I parted for that time; but next morning we met again, and -Will was mighty brisk and merry. “And now, Colonel Jacque,” says he, -“we shall be rich very quickly.” “Well,” says I, “and what shall we do -when we are rich?” “Do!” says he; “we will buy a couple of good -horses, and go farther afield.”</p> - -<p>“What do you mean by farther afield?” says I. “Why,” says he, “we will -take the highway like gentlemen, and then we shall get a great deal of -money indeed.” “Well,” says I, “what then?” “Why, then,” says he, “we -shall live like gentlemen.”</p> - -<p>“But, Will,” says I, “if we get a great deal of money, shan’t we leave -this trade off, and sit down, and be safe and quiet?”</p> - -<p>“Ay,” says Will; “when we have got a great estate, we shall be willing -to lay it down.” “But where,” says I, “shall we be before that time -comes, if we should drive on this cursed kind of trade?”</p> - -<p>“Prithee never think of that,” says Will; “if you think of those -things, you will never be fit to be a gentleman.” He touched me there -indeed, for it ran much in my mind still that I was to be a gentleman, -and it made me dumb for a while; but I came to myself after a little -while, and I said to him, pretty tartly, “Why, Will, do you call this -way of living the life of a gentleman?”</p> - -<p>“Why,” says Will, “why not?”</p> - -<p>“Why,” says I, “was it like a gentleman for me to take that 22s. from -a poor ancient woman, when she begged of me upon her knees not to take -it, and told me it was all she had in the world to buy her bread for -herself and a sick child which she had at home? Do you think I could -be so cruel, if you had not stood by and made me do it? Why, I cried -at doing it as much as the poor woman did, though I did not let you -see me.”</p> - -<p>“You fool you,” says Will; “you will never be fit for our business, -indeed, if you mind such things as those. I shall bring you off those -things quickly. Why, if you will be fit for business, you must learn -to fight when they resist, and cut their throats when they submit; you -must learn to stop their breath that they may beg and pray no more. -What signifies pity? Prithee, who will pity us when we come to the Old -Bailey? I warrant you that whining old woman, that begged so heartily -for her 22s., would let you and I beg upon our knees, and would not -save our lives by not coming in for an evidence against us. Did you -ever see any of them cry when they see gentlemen go to the gallows?”</p> - -<p>“Well, Will,” says I, “you had better let us keep to the business we -were in before. There were no such cruel doings in that, and yet we -got more money by it than I believe we shall get at this.”</p> - -<p>“No, no,” says Will, “you are a fool; you don’t know what fine things -we shall do in a little while.”</p> - -<p>Upon this discourse we parted for that time; but I resolved with -myself that I would never be concerned with him that way any more. The -truth is, they were such a dreadful gang, such horrid barbarous -villains, that even that little while that I was among them my very -blood run cold in my veins at what I heard, particularly the continued -raving and damning one another and themselves at every word they -spoke; and then the horrid resolutions of murder, and cutting throats, -which I perceived was in their minds upon any occasion that should -present. This appeared first in their discourse upon the -disappointment they met with at Chelsea, where the two rogues that -were with us, ay, and Will too, damned and raged that they could not -get into the house, and swore they would have cut the gentleman’s -throat if they had got in, and shook hands, damning and cursing -themselves if they did not murder the whole family as soon as Tom -(that was the manservant) could get an opportunity to let them in.</p> - -<p>Two days after this Will came to my lodging; for I had now got a room -by myself, had bought me tolerable good clothes and some shirts, and -began to look like other folks. But, as it happened, I was abroad upon -the scout in another way; for though I was not hardened enough for so -black a villain as Will would have had me be, yet I had not arrived to -any principle sufficient to keep me from a life, in its degree wicked -enough, which tended to the same destruction, though not in so violent -and precipitant degrees. I had his message delivered to me, which was -to meet him the next evening at such a place, and as I came in time -enough to meet, so I went to the place, but resolved beforehand that I -would not go any more with him among the gang.</p> - -<p>However, to my great satisfaction, I missed him; for he did not come -at all to the place, but met with the gang at another place, they -having sent for him in haste upon the notice of some booty; and so -they went all away together. This was a summons, it seems, from one of -the creatures which they had abroad in a family, where an opportunity -offered them to commit a notorious robbery, down almost as far as -Hounslow, and where they wounded a gentleman’s gardener so that I -think he died, and robbed the house of a very considerable sum of -money and plate.</p> - -<p>This, however, was not so clean carried, nor did they get in so easy, -but by the resistance they met with the neighbours were all alarmed, -and the gentlemen rogues were pursued, and being at London with the -booty, one of them was taken. Will, a dexterous fellow and head of the -gang, made his escape, and though in his clothes, with a great weight -about him of both money and plate, plunged into the Thames and swam -over where there was no path or road leading to the river; so that -nobody suspected any one’s going that way. Being got over, he made his -way, wet as he was, into some woods adjacent, and, as he told me -afterwards, not far from Chertsey, and stayed lurking about in the -woods or fields thereabouts till his clothes were dry; then, in the -night, got down to Kingston, and so to Mortlake, where he got a boat -to London.</p> - -<p>He knew nothing that one of his comrades was taken; only he knew that -they were all so closely pursued that they were obliged to disperse, -and every one to shift for himself. He happened to come home 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 of saving him from the gallows, discovered -his companions, and Will among the rest, as the principal party in the -whole undertaking.</p> - -<p>Will got notice of this just time enough to run for it and not to be -taken; and away he came to look for me; but, as my good fate still -directed, I was not at home neither. However, he left all his booty at -my lodging, and hid it in an old coat that lay under my bedding, and -left word that my brother Will had been there, and had left his coat -that he borrowed of me, and that it was under my bed.</p> - -<p>I knew not what to make of it, but went up to go to bed; and, finding -the parcel, was perfectly frighted to see, wrapped up in it, above one -hundred pound in plate and money, and yet knew nothing of brother -Will, as he called himself, nor did I hear of him for three or four -days.</p> - -<p>At the end of four days I heard, by great accident, that Will, who -used to be seen with me, and who called me brother, was taken, and -would be hanged. Next day a poor man, a shoemaker, that used formerly -to have a kindness for me, and to send me of errands, and gave me -sometimes some victuals, seeing me accidentally in Rosemary Lane, -going by him, clasped me fast hold by the arm. “Hark ye, young man,” -says he, “have I catched you?” and hauled me along as if I had been a -thief apprehended, and he the constable. “Hark ye, Colonel Jacque,” -says he again, “come along with me. I must speak with you. What, are -you got into this gang too? What, are you turned housebreaker? Come, -I’ll have you hanged, to be sure.”</p> - -<p>These were dreadful words to me, who, though not guilty of the -particular thing in question, yet was frighted heartily before, and -did not know what I might be charged with by Will, if he was taken, as -I heard that very morning he was. With these words, the shoemaker -began to hale and drag me along as he used to do when I was a boy.</p> - -<p>However, recovering my spirits, and provoked to the highest degree, I -said to him again, “What do you mean, Mr. ——? Let me alone, or you -will oblige me to make you do it;” and with that I stopped short, and -soon let him see I was grown a little too big to be haled about as I -used to be when I run of his errands, and made a motion with my other -hand as if I would strike him in the face.</p> - -<p>“How, Jacque!” says he; “will you strike me? Will you strike your old -friend?” and then he let go my arm, and laughed. “Well, but hark ye, -colonel,” says he, “I am in earnest. I hear bad news of you. They say -you are gotten into bad company, and that this Will calls you brother. -He is a great villain, and I hear he is charged with a bloody robbery, -and will be hanged if he is taken. I hope you are not concerned with -him. If you are, I would advise you to shift for yourself, for the -constable and the headborough are after him to-day, and if he can lay -any thing to you he will do it, you may be sure. He will certainly -hang you to save himself.”</p> - -<p>This was kind, and I thanked him, but told him this was a thing too -serious, and that had too much weight in it, to be jested with, as he -had done before; and that some ignorant stranger might have seized -upon me as a person guilty, who had no further concern in it than just -knowing the man, and so I might have been brought into trouble for -nothing. At least people might have thought I was among them, whether -I was or no, and it would have rendered me suspected, though I was -innocent.</p> - -<p>He acknowledged that; told me he was but in jest, and that he talked -to me just as he used to do.</p> - -<p>“However, colonel,” says he, “I won’t jest any more with you in a -thing of such a dangerous consequence; I only advise you to keep the -fellow company no more.”</p> - -<p>I thanked him, and went away, but in the greatest perplexity -imaginable. And now, not knowing what to do with myself, or with the -little ill-gotten wealth which I had, I went musing and alone into the -fields towards Stepney, my usual walk, and there began to consider -what to do. And as this creature had left his prize in my garret, I -began to think that if he should be taken, and should confess and send -the officers to search there for the goods, and they should find them, -I should be undone, and should be taken up for a confederate; whereas -I knew nothing of the matter, and had no hand in it.</p> - -<p>While I was thus musing, and in great perplexity, I heard somebody -halloo to me; and, looking about, I saw Will running after me. I knew -not what to think at first, but seeing him alone, was the more -encouraged, and I stood still for him. When he came up to me I said to -him, “What is the matter, Will?” “Matter!” says Will. “Matter enough; -I am undone. When was you at home?”</p> - -<p>“I saw what you left there,” says I. “What is the meaning of it, and -where got you all that? Is that your being undone?”</p> - -<p>“Ay,” says Will, “I am undone for all that; for the officers are after -me; and I am a dead dog if I am taken, for George is in custody, and -he has peached on me and all the others to save his life.”</p> - -<p>“Life!” says I; “why should you lose your life if they should take -you? Pray what would they do to you?”</p> - -<p>“Do to me!” says he; “they would hang me, if the king had ne’er -another soldier in his guards. I shall certainly be hanged as I am now -alive.”</p> - -<p>This frighted me terribly, and I said, “And what will you do then?” -“Nay,” says he, “I know not. I would get out of the nation, if I knew -how; but I am a stranger to all those things, and I know not what to -do, not I. Advise me, Jacque,” says he; “prithee tell me whither shall -I go. I have a good mind to go to sea.”</p> - -<p>“You talk of going away,” says I; “what will you do with all you have -hid in my garret? It must not lie there,” said I; “for if I should be -taken up for it, and it be found to be the money you stole, I shall be -ruined.”</p> - -<p>“I care not what becomes of it, not I,” says Will. “I’ll be gone. Do -you take it, if you will, and do what you will with it. I must fly, -and I cannot take it with me.” “I won’t have it, not I,” says I to -him. “I’ll go and fetch it to you if you will take it,” says I; “but I -won’t meddle with it. Besides, there is plate. What shall I do with -plate?” said I. “If I should offer to sell it anywhere,” said I, “they -will stop me.”</p> - -<p>“As for that,” says Will, “I could sell it well enough, if I had it; -but I must not be seen anywhere among my old acquaintance; for I am -blown, and they will all betray me. But I will tell you where you -shall go and sell it, if you will, and they will ask you no questions, -if you give them the word that I will give you.” So he gave me the -word, and directions to a pawnbroker near Cloth Fair. The word was -<i>Good tower standard</i>. Having these instructions, he said to me, -“Colonel Jacque, I am sure you won’t betray me; and I promise you, if -I am taken, and should be hanged, I won’t name you. I will go to such -a house” (naming a house at Bromley, by Bow, where he and I had often -been), “and there,” says he, “I’ll stay till it is dark. At night I -will come near the streets, and I will lay under such a haystack all -night” (a place we both knew also very well); “and if you cannot -finish to come to me there, I will go back to Bow.”</p> - -<p>I went back and took the cargo, went to the place by Cloth Fair, and -gave the word <i>Good tower standard</i>; and without any words, they took -the plate, weighed it, and paid me after the rate of 2s. per ounce for -it. So I came away and went to meet him, but it was too late to meet -him at the first place; but I went to the haystack, and there I found -him fast asleep.</p> - -<p>I delivered him his cargo. What it really amounted to I knew not, for -I never told it; but I went home to my quarters very late and tired. I -went to sleep at first, but, notwithstanding I was so weary, I slept -little or none for several hours. At last, being overcome with sleep, -I dropped, but was immediately roused with noise of people knocking at -the door, as if they would beat it down, and crying and calling out to -the people of the house, “Rise, and let in the constable here. We come -for your lodger in the garret.”</p> - -<p>I was frighted to the last degree, and started up in my bed; but when -I was awaked I heard no noise at all, but of two watchmen thumping at -the doors with their staves, and giving the hour, “Past three o’clock, -and a rainy, wet morning”—for such it was. I was very glad when I -found it was but a dream, and went to bed again, but was soon roused a -second time with the same, very same noise and words. Then, being -sooner awaked than I was before, I jumped out of bed and ran to the -window, and found it was just an hour more, and the watchmen were come -about: “Past four o’clock,” and they went away again very quietly; so -I lay me down again, and slept the rest of the night quietly enough.</p> - -<p>I laid no stress upon the thing called a dream, neither till now did I -understand that dreams were of any importance; but getting up the next -day, and going out with a resolution to meet brother Will, who should -I meet but my former brother, Captain Jacque. When he saw me, he came -close to me in his blunt way, and says, “Do you hear the news?” “No, -not I,” said I; “what news?” “Your old comrade and teacher is taken -this morning and carried to Newgate.” “How,” says I, “this morning?” -“Yes,” says he, “this morning at four o’clock. He is charged with a -robbery and murder somewhere beyond Brentford; and that which is worse -is, that he is impeached by one of the gang, who, to save his own -life, has turned evidence; and therefore you had best consider,” says -the captain, “what you have to do.” “What I have to do!” says I; “and -what do you mean by that?” “Nay, colonel,” says he, “don’t be angry; -you know best. If you are not in danger, I am glad of it, but I doubt -not but you were with them.” “No, not I,” said I again; “I assure you -I was not.” “Well,” says he, “but if you were not with them this bout, -you have been with them at other times; and ’twill be all one.” “Not -I,” says I; “you are quite mistaken. I am none of their gang; they are -above my quality.” With such, and a little more talk of that kind, we -parted, and Captain Jacque went away; but as he went I observed he -shook his head, seemed to have more concern upon him than he could be -supposed to have merely on my account, of which we shall hear more -very quickly.</p> - -<p>I was extremely alarmed when I heard Will was in Newgate, and, had I -known where to have gone, would certainly have fled as far as legs -would have carried me. My very joints trembled, and I was ready to -sink into the ground; and all that evening, and that night following, -I was in the uttermost consternation. My head ran upon nothing but -Newgate and the gallows, and being hanged; which, I said, I deserved, -if it were for nothing but taking that two-and-twenty shillings from -the poor old nurse.</p> - -<p>The first thing my perplexed thoughts allowed me to take care of was -my money. This indeed lay in a little compass, and I carried it -generally all about me. I had got together, as you will perceive by -the past account, above £60 (for I spent nothing), and what to do with -it I knew not. At last it came into my head that I would go to my -benefactor, the clerk at the custom-house, if he was to be found, and -see if I could get him to take the rest of my money. The only business -was to make a plausible story to him, that he might not wonder how I -came by so much money.</p> - -<p>But my invention quickly supplied that want. There was a suit of -clothes at one of our houses of rendezvous, which was left there for -any of the gang to put on, upon particular occasions, as a disguise. -This was a green livery, laced with pink-coloured galloon, and lined -with the same; an edged hat, a pair of boots, and a whip. I went and -dressed myself up in this livery, and went to my gentleman, to his -house in Tower Street, and there I found him in health and well, just -the same honest gentleman as ever.</p> - -<p>He stared at me when first I came to him, for I met him just at his -door; I say, he stared at me, and seeing me bow and bow to him several -times, with my laced hat under my arm, at last, not knowing me in the -least, says he to me, “Dost thou want to speak with me, young man?” -And I said, “Yes, sir; I believe your worship” (I had learnt some -manners now) “does not know me. I am the poor boy Jacque.” He looked -hard at me, and then recollecting me presently, says he, “Who—Colonel -Jacque! Why, where hast thou been all this while? Why, ’tis five or -six years since I saw you.” “’Tis above six years, and please your -worship,” says I.</p> - -<p>“Well, and where hast thou been all this while?” says he.</p> - -<p>“I have been in the country, sir,” says I, “at service.”</p> - -<p>“Well, Colonel Jacque,” says he, “you give long credit; what’s the -reason you han’t fetched your money all this while, nor the interest? -Why, you will grow so rich in time by the interest of your money, you -won’t know what to do with it.”</p> - -<p>To that I said nothing, but bowed and scraped a great many times. -“Well, come, Colonel Jacque,” said he, “come in and I will give you -your money, and the interest of it too.”</p> - -<p>I cringed and bowed, and told him I did not come to him for my money; -for I had had a good place or two, and I did not want my money.</p> - -<p>“Well, Colonel Jacque,” said he, “and who do you live with?”</p> - -<p>“Sir Jonathan Loxham,” said I, “sir, in Somersetshire, and please your -worship.” This was a name I had heard of, but knew nothing of any such -gentleman, or of the country.</p> - -<p>“Well,” says he, “but won’t you have your money, Jacque?”</p> - -<p>“No, sir,” said I, “if your worship would please, for I have had a -good place.”</p> - -<p>“If I would please to do what, prithee? Your money is ready, I tell -thee.”</p> - -<p>“No, sir,” said I; “but I have had a good place.”</p> - -<p>“Well, and what dost thou mean, Jacque? I do not understand thee.”</p> - -<p>“Why, and please your worship, my old master, Sir Jonathan’s father, -left me £30 when he died, and a suit of mourning, and——”</p> - -<p>“And what, prithee, Jacque? What, hast thou brought me more money?” -For then he began to understand what I meant.</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir,” said I; “and your worship would be so good to take it, and -put it all together. I have saved some, too, out of my wages.”</p> - -<p>“I told you, Jacque,” says he, “you would be rich. And how much hast -thou saved? Come, let me see it.”</p> - -<p>To shorten the story, I pulled it out, and he was content to take it, -giving me his note, with interest, for the whole sum, which amounted -to £94; that is to say,</p> - -<p class="letter"> -£25 The first money.<br> -9 For six years’ interest.<br> -60 Now paid him.<br> -———<br> -£94</p> - -<p> -I came away exceeding joyful, made him abundance of bows and scrapes, -and went immediately to shift my clothes again, with a resolution to -run away from London and see it no more for a great while. But I was -surprised the very next morning, when, going cross Rosemary Lane, by -the end of the place which is called Rag Fair, I heard one call -“Jacque.” He had said something before, which I did not hear, but upon -hearing the name Jacque I looked about me, immediately saw three men, -and after them a constable coming towards me with great fury. I was in -a great surprise, and started to run, but one of them clapped in upon -me, and got hold of me, and in a moment the rest surrounded me, and I -was taken. I asked them what they wanted, and what I had done. They -told me it was no place to talk of that there, but showed me their -warrant, and bade me read it, and I should know the rest when I came -before the justice; so they hurried me away.</p> - -<p>I took the warrant, but, to my great affliction, I could know nothing -by that, for I could not read; so I desired them to read it, and they -read it, that they were to apprehend a known thief, that went by the -name of one of the three Jacques of Rag Fair; for that he was charged -upon oath with having been a party in a notorious robbery, burglary, -and murder, committed so and so, in such a place, and on such a day.</p> - -<p>It was to no purpose for me to deny it, or to say I knew nothing of -it; that was none of their business, they said; that must be disputed, -they told me, before the justice, where I would find that it was sworn -positively against me, and then, perhaps, I might be better satisfied.</p> - -<p>I had no remedy but patience; and as my heart was full of terror and -guilt, so I was ready to die with the weight of it as they carried me -along. For as I very well knew that I was guilty of the first day’s -work, though I was not of the last, so I did not doubt but I should be -sent to Newgate, and then I took it for granted I must be hanged; for -to go to Newgate and to be hanged were to me as things which -necessarily followed one another.</p> - -<p>But I had a sharp conflict to go through before it came to that part; -and that was before the justice; where, when I was come, and the -constable brought me in, the justice asked me my name. “But hold,” -says he, “young man; before I ask you your name, let me do you -justice. You are not bound to answer till your accusers come;” so, -turning to the constable, he asked for his warrant.</p> - -<p>“Well,” says the justice, “you have brought this young man here by -virtue of this warrant. Is this young man the person for whom this -warrant is granted?”</p> - -<p><i>Con</i>. I believe so, and please your worship.</p> - -<p><i>Just</i>. Believe so! Why, are you not sure of it?</p> - -<p><i>Con</i>. An’t please your worship, the people said so where I took him.</p> - -<p><i>Just</i>. It is a very particular kind of warrant; it is to apprehend a -young man who goes by the name of Jacque, but no surname, only that it -is said he is called Captain Jacque, or some other such name. Now, -young man, pray is your name Captain Jacque? or are you usually called -so?</p> - -<p>I presently found that the men that took me knew nothing of me, and -the constable had taken me up by hearsay; so I took heart, and told -the justice that I thought, with submission, that it was not the -present question what my name was, but what these men, or any one -else, had to lay to my charge; whether I was the person who the -warrant empowered them to apprehend or no.</p> - -<p>He smiled. “’Tis very true, young man,” says he, “it is very true; -and, on my word, if they have taken you up, and do not know you, and -there is nobody to charge you, they will be mistaken to their own -damage.”</p> - -<p>Then I told his worship I hoped I should not be obliged to tell my -name till my accuser was brought to charge me, and then I should not -conceal my name.</p> - -<p>“It is but reason,” said his good worship. “Mr. Constable,” turning to -the officers, “are you sure this is the person that is intended in -your warrant? If you are not, you must fetch the person that accuses -him, and on whose oath the warrant was granted.” They used many words -to insinuate that I was the person, and that I knew it well enough, -and that I should be obliged to tell my name.</p> - -<p>I insisted on the unreasonableness of it, and that I should not be -obliged to accuse myself: and the justice told them in so many words -that he could not force me to it, that I might do it if I would, -indeed; “but you see,” says the justice, “he understood too well to be -imposed upon in that case.” So that, in short, after an hour’s -debating before his worship, in which time I pleaded against four of -them, the justice told them they must produce the accuser, or he must -discharge me.</p> - -<p>I was greatly encouraged at this, and argued with the more vigour for -myself. At length the accuser was brought, fettered as he was, from -the gaol, and glad I was when I saw him, and found that I knew him -not; that is to say, that it was not one of the two rogues that I went -out with that night that we robbed the poor old woman.</p> - -<p>When the prisoner was brought into the room he was set right against -me.</p> - -<p>“Do you know this young man?” says the justice.</p> - -<p>“No, sir,” says the prisoner; “I never saw him in my life.”</p> - -<p>“Hum!” says the justice; “did not you charge one that goes by the name -of Jacque, or Captain Jacque, as concerned in the robbery and murder -which you are in custody for?”</p> - -<p><i>Pris</i>. Yes, an’t please your worship.</p> - -<p><i>Just</i>. And is this the man, or is he not?</p> - -<p><i>Pris</i>. This is not the man, sir; I never saw this man before.</p> - -<p>“Very good, Mr. Constable,” says the justice, “what must we do now?”</p> - -<p>“I am surprised,” says the constable. “I was at such a house” (naming -the house), “and this young man went by. The people cried out, -’There’s Jacque; that’s your man;’ and these people ran after him, and -apprehended him.”</p> - -<p>“Well,” says the justice, “and have these people anything to say to -him? Can they prove that he is the person?”</p> - -<p>One said no, and the other said no; and, in short, they all said no. -“Why, then,” said the justice, “what can be done? The young man must -be discharged; and I must tell you, Mr. Constable, and you gentlemen -that have brought him hither, he may give you trouble, if he thinks -fit, for your being so rash. But look you, young man,” says the -justice, “you have no great damage done you, and the constable, though -he has been mistaken, had no ill design, but to be faithful to his -office. I think you may pass it by.”</p> - -<p>I told his worship I would readily pass it by at his direction, but I -thought the constable and the rest could do no less than to go back to -the place where they had insulted me, and declare publicly there that -I was honourably acquitted, and that I was not the man. This his -worship said was very reasonable, and the constable and his assistants -promised to do it, and so we came all away good friends, and I was -cleared with triumph.</p> - -<p><i>Note</i>.—This was the time that, as I mentioned above, the justice -talked to me, and told me I was born to better things, and that by my -well managing of my own defence, he did not question but I had been -well educated; and that he was sorry I should fall into such a -misfortune as this, which he hoped, however, would be no dishonour to -me, since I was so handsomely acquitted.</p> - -<p>Though his worship was mistaken in the matter of my education, yet it -had this good effect upon me, that I resolved, if possible, I would -learn to read and write, that I would not be such an uncapable -creature, that I should not be able to read a warrant, and see whether -I was the person to be apprehended or not.</p> - -<p>But there was something more in all this than what I have taken notice -of; for, in a word, it appeared plainly that my brother, Captain -Jacque, 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 -be afraid to fly, at the same time that he advised me to shift for -myself.</p> - -<p>As this presently occurred to my thoughts, so I made it my business to -inquire and find him out, and to give him notice of it.</p> - -<p>In the meantime, being now confident of my own safety, I had no more -concern upon my mind about myself; but now I began to be anxious for -poor Will, my master and tutor in wickedness, who was now fast by the -heels in Newgate, while I was happily at liberty; and I wanted very -much to go and see him, and accordingly did so.</p> - -<p>I found him in a sad condition, loaden with heavy irons, and had -himself no prospect or hope of escaping. He told me he should die, but -bid me be easy; for, as it would do him no good to accuse me, who -never was out with any of them but that once, so I might depend upon -it he would not bring me into the trouble. As for the rogue who had -betrayed them all, he was not able to hurt me, for I might be -satisfied he had never seen me in his life. “But, Colonel Jacque,” -says he, “I will tell you who was with us, and that is, your brother -the captain, and the villain has certainly named him; and, therefore,” -says he, “if you can give him timely notice of it, do, that he may -make his escape.”</p> - -<p>He said a great many things to warn me off following the steps he had -led me. “I was far out, Jacque,” said he, “when I told you, to be a -notorious thief was to live like a gentleman.” He chiefly discovered -his concern that they had, as he feared, killed the gentleman’s -gardener, and that he in particular had given him a wound in the neck, -of which he was afraid he would die.</p> - -<p>He had a great sum of money in gold about him, being the same that I -had carried back to him at the haystack; and he had concealed it so -well that those who took him had not found it, and he gave me the -greatest part of it to carry to his mother, which I very honestly -delivered, and came away with a heavy heart. Nor did I ever see him -since, for he was executed in about three weeks’ time after, being -condemned that very next sessions.</p> - -<p>I had nothing to do now but to find the captain, who, though not -without some trouble, I at last got news of, and told him the whole -story, and how I had been taken up for him by mistake, and was come -off, but that the warrant was still out for him, and very strict -search after him; I say, telling him all this, he presently discovered -by his surprise that he was guilty, and after a few words more, told -me plainly it was all true, that he was in the robbery, and that he -had the greatest part of the booty in keeping, but what to do with it, -or himself, he did not know; and wanted me to tell him, which I was -very unfit to do, for I knew nothing of the world. Then he told me he -had a mind to fly into Scotland, which was easy to be done, and asked -me if I would go with him. I told him I would, with all my heart, if I -had money enough to bear the charge. He had the trade still in his -eyes by his answer. “I warrant you,” says he, “we will make the -journey pay our charge.” “I dare not think of going any more upon the -adventure,” says I. “Besides, if we meet with any misfortune out of -our knowledge, we shall never get out of it; we shall be undone.” -“Nay,” says he; “we shall find no mercy here, if they can catch us, -and they can do no worse abroad. I am for venturing at all events.”</p> - -<p>“Well, but, captain,” says I, “have you husbanded your time so ill -that you have no money to supply you in such a time as this?” “I have -very little indeed,” said he, “for I have had bad luck lately.” But he -lied, for he had a great share of the booty they had got at their last -adventure, as above; and, as the rest complained, he and Will had got -almost all of it, and kept the rest out of their shares, which made -them the willinger to discover them.</p> - -<p>However it was, he owned he had about £22 in money, and something that -would yield money—I suppose it was plate; but he would not tell me -what it was, or where it was. But he said he durst not go to fetch it, -for he should be betrayed and seized, so he would venture without it. -“Sure,” says he, “we shall come back again some time or other.”</p> - -<p>I honestly produced all the money I had, which was £16 and some odd -shillings. “Now,” says I, “if we are good husbands, and travel -frugally, this will carry us quite out of danger.” For we had both -been assured that when we came out of England we should be both safe, -and nobody could hurt us, though they had known us; but we neither of -us thought it was so many weary steps to Scotland as we found it.</p> - -<p>I speak of myself as in the same circumstances of danger with brother -Jacque; but it was only thus: I was in as much fear as he, but not in -quite as much danger.</p> - -<p>I cannot omit that, in the interval of these things, and a few days -before I carried my money to the gentleman in Tower Street, I took a -walk all alone into the fields, in order to go to Kentish Town and do -justice to the poor old nurse. It happened that, before I was aware, I -crossed a field that came to the very spot where I robbed the poor old -woman and the maid, or where, I should say, Will made me rob them. My -heart had reproached me many a time with that cruel action, and many a -time I promised to myself that I would find a way to make her -satisfaction and restore her money, and that day I had set apart for -the work, but was a little surprised that I was so suddenly upon the -unhappy spot.</p> - -<p>The place brought to my mind the villainy I had committed there, and -something struck me with a kind of wish—I cannot say prayer, for I -knew not what that meant—that I might leave off that cursed trade, -and said to myself, “Oh that I had some trade to live by! I would -never rob no more, for sure ’tis a wicked, abominable thing.”</p> - -<p>Here indeed I felt the loss of what just parents do, and ought to do, -by all their children—I mean, being bred to some trade or employment; -and I wept many times that I knew not what to do or what to turn my -hand to, though, I resolved to leave off the wicked course I was in.</p> - -<p>But to return to my journey. I asked my way to Kentish Town, and it -happened to be of a poor woman that said she lived there; upon which -intelligence I asked if she knew a woman that lived there whose name -was Smith. She answered yes, very well; that she was not a settled -inhabitant, only a lodger in the town, but that she was an honest, -poor, industrious woman, and by her labour and pains maintained a poor -diseased husband, that had been unable to help himself some years.</p> - -<p>“What a villain have I been,” said I to myself, “that I should rob -such a poor woman as this, and add grief and tears to her misery, and -to the sorrows of her house!” This quickened my resolution to restore -her money; and not only so, but I resolved I would give her something -over and above her loss. So I went forward, and by the direction I had -received, found her lodging with very little trouble. Then asking for -the woman, she came to the door immediately; for she heard me ask for -her by her name of a little girl that came first to the door. I -presently spoke to her: “Dame,” said I, “was not you robbed about a -year ago, as you was coming home from London, about Pindar of -Wakefield?” “Yes, indeed I was,” says she; “and sadly frighted into -the bargain.” “And how much did you lose?” said I. “Indeed,” says she, -“I lost all the money I had in the world. I am sure I worked hard for -it; it was money for keeping a nurse-child that I had then, and I had -been at London to receive it.” “But how much was it, dame?” said I. -“Why,” says she, “it was 22s. 6½d.; 21s. I had been to fetch, and the -odd money was my own before.”</p> - -<p>“Well, look you, good woman, what will you say if I should put you in -a way to get your money again? for I believe the fellow that took it -is fast enough now, and perhaps I may do you a kindness in it, and for -that I came to see you.” “Oh dear!” says the old woman, “I understand -you, but indeed I cannot swear to the man’s face again, for it was -dark; and, besides, I would not hang the poor wretch for my money; let -him live and repent.” “That is very kind,” says I—“more than he -deserves from you; but you need not be concerned about that, for he -will be hanged whether you appear against him or not; but are you -willing to have your money again that you lost?” “Yes, indeed,” says -the woman, “I should be glad of that; for I have not been so hard put -to it for money a great while as I am now; I have much ado to find us -bread to eat, though I work hard early and late;” and with that she -cried.</p> - -<p>I thought it would have broken my very heart, to think how this poor -creature worked and was a slave at near threescore, and that I, a -young fellow of hardly twenty, should rob her of her bread to support -my idleness and wicked life; and the tears came from my eyes in spite -of all my struggling to prevent it, and the woman perceived it too. -“Poor woman,” said I, “’tis a sad thing such creatures as these should -plunder and strip such a poor object as thou art. Well, he is at -leisure now to repent it, I assure you.” “I perceive, sir,” says she, -“you are very compassionate indeed. I wish he may improve the time God -has spared him, and that he may repent, and I pray God give him -repentance. Whoever he is, I forgive him, whether he can make me -recompense or not, and I pray God forgive him. I won’t do him any -prejudice, not I.” And with that she went on praying for me.</p> - -<p>“Well, dame, come hither to me,” says I; and with that I put my hand -into my pocket, and she came to me. “Hold up your hand,” said I; which -she did, and I told her nine half-crowns into her hand. “There, dame,” -said I, “is your 22s. 6d. you lost. I assure you, dame,” said I, “I -have been the chief instrument to get it off him for you; for, ever -since he told me the story of it among the rest of his wicked -exploits, I never gave him any rest till I made him promise me to make -you restitution.” All the while I held her hand and put the money into -it I looked in her face, and I perceived her colour come and go, and -that she was under the greatest surprise of joy imaginable.</p> - -<p>“Well, God bless him,” says she, “and spare him from the disaster he -is afraid of, if it be His will. For sure this is an act of so much -justice, and so honest, that I never expected the like.” She run on a -great while so, and wept for him when I told her I doubted there was -no room to expect his life. “Well,” says she, “then pray God give him -repentance and bring him to heaven; for sure he must have something -that is good at the bottom; he has a principle of honesty at bottom to -be sure, however he may have been brought into bad courses by bad -company or evil example, or other temptations; but I daresay he will -be brought to repentance one time or other before he dies.”</p> - -<p>All this touched me nearer than she imagined; for I was the man that -she prayed for all this while, though she did not know it, and in my -heart I said amen to it. For I was sensible that I had done one of the -vilest actions in the world in attacking a poor creature in such a -condition, and not listening to her entreaties when she begged so -heartily for that little money we took from her.</p> - -<p>In a word, the good woman so moved me with her charitable prayers that -I put my hand in my pocket again for her: “Dame,” said I, “you are so -charitable in your petitions for this miserable creature that it puts -me in mind of one thing more which I will do for him, whether he -ordered me or not; and that is, to ask your forgiveness for the thief -in robbing you. For it was an offence and a trespass against you, as -well as an injury to you; and therefore I ask your pardon for him. -Will you sincerely and heartily forgive him, dame? I do desire it of -you;” and with that I stood up, and, with my hat off, asked her -pardon. “O sir!” says she, “do not stand up, and with your hat off to -me. I am a poor woman; I forgive him, and all that were with him; for -there was one or more with him. I forgive them with all my heart, and -I pray God to forgive them.”</p> - -<p>“Well, dame, then,” said I, “to make you some recompense for your -charity, there is something for you more than your loss;” and with -that I gave her a crown more.</p> - -<p>Then I asked her who that was who was robbed with her. She said it was -a servant-maid that lived then in the town, but she was gone from her -place, and she did not know where she lived now. “Well, dame,” says -I, “if ever you do hear of her, let her leave word where she may be -found; and if I live to come and see you again, I will get the money -off him for her too. I think that was but little, was it?” “No,” says -she; “it was but 5s. 6d.,” which I knew as well as she. “Well,” says -I, “dame, inquire her out if you have an opportunity;” so she promised -me she would, and away I came.</p> - -<p>The satisfaction this gave me was very much; but then a natural -consequence attended it, which filled me with reflection afterwards; -and this was, that, by the same rule, I ought to make restitution to -all that I had wronged in the like manner; and what could I do as to -that? To this I knew not what to say, and so the thought in time wore -off; for, in short, it was impossible to be done. I had not ability, -neither did I know any of the people whom I had so injured; and that -satisfying me for the present, I let it drop.</p> - -<p>I come now to my journey with Captain Jacque, my supposed brother. We -set out from London on foot, and travelled the first day to Ware; for -we had learnt so much of our road that the way lay through that town. -We were weary enough the first day, having not been used at all to -travelling; but we made shift to walk once up and down the town after -we came into it.</p> - -<p>I soon found that his walking out to see the town was not to satisfy -his curiosity in viewing the place, for he had no notion of anything -of that kind, but to see if he could light of any purchase. For he was -so natural a thief that he could see nothing on the road but it -occurred to him how easily that might be taken, and how cleverly this -might be carried off, and the like.</p> - -<p>Nothing offered in Ware to his mind, it not being market-day; and as -for me, though I made no great scruple of eating and drinking at the -cost of his roguery, yet I resolved not to enter upon anything, as -they called it, nor to take the least thing from anybody.</p> - -<p>When the captain found me resolved upon the negative, he asked me how -I thought to travel. I asked him what he thought of himself, that was -sure to be hanged if he was taken, how small soever the crime was that -he should be taken for. “How can that be?” says he; “they don’t know -me in the country.” “Ay,” says I; “but do you think they do not send -up word to Newgate as soon as any thief is taken in the country, and -so inquire who is escaped from them, or who is fled, that they may be -stopped? Assure yourself,” says I, “the gaolers correspond with one -another, with the greatest exactness imaginable; and if you were taken -here but for stealing a basket of eggs, you shall have your accuser -sent down to see if he knows you.”</p> - -<p>This terrified him a little for a while, and kept him honest for three -or four days; but it was but for a few days indeed, for he played a -great many rogue’s tricks without me; till at last he came to his end -without me too, though it was not till many years after, as you shall -hear in its order. But as these exploits are no part of my story, but -of his, whose life and exploits are sufficient to make a volume larger -than this by itself, so I shall omit every thing but what I was -particularly concerned in during this tedious journey.</p> - -<p>From Ware we travelled to Cambridge, though that was not our direct -road. The occasion was this: in our way, going through a village -called Puckeridge, we baited at an inn, at the sign of the Falcon, and -while we were there a countryman comes to the inn, and hangs his horse -at the door while he goes in to drink. We sat in the gateway, having -called for a mug of beer, and drank it up. We had been talking with -the hostler about the way to Scotland, and he had bid us ask the road -to Royston. “But,” says he, “there is a turning just here a little -farther. You must not go that way, for that goes to Cambridge.”</p> - -<p>We had paid for our beer, and sat at the door only to rest us, when on -the sudden comes a gentleman’s coach to the door, and three or four -horsemen. The horsemen rode into the yard, and the hostler was obliged -to go in with them. Says 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 me to follow him. We walked together to the turning. Says -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 was got up -upon the horse and at my heels. “Come, get up,” says he; “we will have -a lift, if we don’t get the horse by the bargain.”</p> - -<p>I made no difficulty to get up behind him, and away we went at a good -round rate, it being a good strong horse. We lost no time for an -hour’s riding and more, by which time we thought we were out of the -reach of being pursued. And as the country man, when he should miss -his horse, would hear that we inquired the way to Royston, he would -certainly pursue us that way, and not towards Cambridge. We went -easier after the first hour’s riding, and coming through a town or -two, we alighted by turns, and did not ride double through the -villages.</p> -<br> -<p class="center"><a name="div1_02" href="#div1Ref_02"><img src="images/jack136.png" alt="escaping"></a><br> -Escaping with the purloined horse.</p> -<br> - -<p>Now, as it was impossible for the captain to pass by anything -that he -could lay his hand on and not take it, so now, having a horse to carry -it off too, the temptation was the stronger. Going through a village -where a good housewife of the house had been washing, and hung her -clothes out upon a hedge near the road, he could not help it, but got -hold of a couple of good shirts that were but about half dry, and -overtook me upon the spur; for I walked on before. I immediately got -up behind, and away we galloped together as fast as the horse would -well go. In this part of our expedition his good luck or mine carried -us quite out of the road, and having seen nobody to ask the way of, we -lost ourselves, and wandered I know not how many miles to the right -hand, till, partly by that means and partly by the occasion following, -we came quite into the coach-road to Cambridge from London by -Bishop-Stortford. The particular occasion that made me wander on was -thus: the country was all open cornfields, no enclosures; when, being -upon a little rising ground, I bade him stop the horse, for I would -get down and walk a little to ease my legs, being tired with riding so -long behind without stirrups. When I was down and looked a little -about me, I saw plainly the great white road, which we should have -gone, at near two miles from us.</p> - -<p>On a sudden looking a little back to my left, upon that road, I saw -four or five horsemen riding full speed, some a good way before the -others, and hurrying on, as people in a full pursuit.</p> - -<p>It immediately struck me: “Ha! brother Jacque,” says I, “get off the -horse this moment, and ask why afterwards.” So he jumps off. “What is -the matter?” says he. “The matter!” says I. “Look yonder; it is well -we have lost our way. Do you see how they ride? They are pursuing us, -you may depend upon it. Either,” says I, “you are pursued from the -last village for the two shirts, or from Puckeridge for the horse.” He -had so much presence of mind that, without my mentioning it to him, he -puts back the horse behind a great white thorn-bush, which grew just -by him; so they could by no means see the horse, which, we being just -at the top of the hill, they might otherwise have done, and so have -pursued that way at a venture.</p> - -<p>But as it was impossible for them to see the horse, so was it as -impossible for them to see us at that distance, who sat down on the -ground to look at them the more securely.</p> - -<p>The road winding about, we saw them a great way, and they rode as fast -as they could make their horses go. When we found they were gone quite -out of sight, we mounted and made the best of our way also; and -indeed, though we were two upon one horse, yet we abated no speed -where the way would admit of it, not inquiring of anybody the way to -anywhere till, after about two hours’ riding, we came to a town, -which, upon inquiry, they called Chesterford. And here we stopped, and -asked not our way to any place, but whither that road went, and were -told it was the coach-road to Cambridge; also that it was the way to -Newmarket, to St. Edmund’s Bury, to Norwich and Yarmouth, to Lynn, and -to Ely, and the like.</p> - -<p>We stayed here a good while, believing ourselves secure; and -afterwards, towards evening, went forward to a place called -Bournbridge, where the road to Cambridge turns away out of the road to -Newmarket, and where there are but two houses only, both of them being -inns. Here the captain says to me, “Hark ye, you see we are pursued -towards Cambridge, and shall be stopped if we go thither. Now -Newmarket is but ten miles off, and there we may be safe, and perhaps -get an opportunity to do some business.”</p> - -<p>“Look ye, Jacque,” said I, “talk no more of doing business, for I will -not join with you in anything of that kind. I would fain get you to -Scotland before you get a halter about your neck. I will not have you -hanged in England, if I can help it; and therefore I won’t go to -Newmarket, unless you will promise me to take no false steps there.” -“Well,” says he, “if I must not, then I won’t; but I hope you will let -us get another horse, won’t you, that we may travel faster?” “No,” -says I, “I won’t agree to that; but if you will let me send this horse -back fairly, I will tell you how we shall hire horses afterwards, for -one stage, or two, and then take them as far as we please: it is only -sending a letter to the owner to send for him, and then, if we are -stopped, it can do us but little hurt.”</p> - -<p>“You are a wary, politic gentleman,” says the captain, “but I say we -are better as we are; for we are out of all danger of being stopped on -the way after we are gone from this place.”</p> - -<p>We had not parleyed thus long, but, though in the dead of the night, -came a man to the other inn door—for, as I said above, there are two -inns at that place—and called for a pot of beer; but the people were -all in bed, and would not rise. He asked them if they had seen two -fellows come that way upon one horse. The man said he had, that they -went by in the afternoon, and asked the way to Cambridge, but did not -stop only to drink one mug. “Oh!” says he, “are they gone to -Cambridge? Then I’ll be with them quickly.” I was awake in a little -garret of the next inn, where we lodged, and hearing the fellow call -at the door, got up and went to the window, having some uneasiness at -every noise I heard; and by that means heard the whole story. Now, the -case is plain, our hour was not come, our fate had determined other -things for us, and we were to be reserved for it. The matter was thus. -When we first came to Bournbridge, we called at the first house, and -asked the way to Cambridge, drank a mug of beer and went on, and they -might see to turn off to go the way they directed. But night coming -on, and we being very weary, we thought we should not find the way; -and we came back in the dusk of the evening, and went into the other -house, being the first as we came back, as that where we called before -was the first as we went forward.</p> - -<p>You may be sure I was alarmed now, as indeed I had reason to be. The -captain was in bed and fast asleep, but I wakened him, and roused him -with a noise that frighted him enough. “Rise, Jacque,” said I; “we are -both ruined; they are come after us hither.” Indeed, I was wrong to -terrify him at that rate; for he started, and jumped out of bed, and -ran directly to the window, not knowing where he was, and, not quite -awake, was just going to jump out of the window, but I laid hold of -him. “What are you going to do?” says I. “I won’t be taken,” says he. -“Let me alone. Where are they?”</p> - -<p>This was all confusion; and he was so out of himself with the fright, -and being overcome with sleep, that I had much to do to prevent his -jumping out of the window. However, I held him fast, and thoroughly -wakened him, and then all was well again, and he was presently -composed.</p> - -<p>Then I told him the story, and we sat together upon the bedside, -considering what we should do. Upon the whole, as the fellow that -called was apparently gone to Cambridge, we had nothing to fear, but -to be quiet till daybreak, and then to mount and be gone.</p> - -<p>Accordingly, as soon as day peeped we were up; and having happily -informed ourselves of the road at the other house, and being told that -the road to Cambridge turned off on the left hand, and that the road -to Newmarket lay straight forward—I say, having learnt this, the -captain told me he would walk away on foot towards Newmarket; and so, -when I came to go out, I should appear as a single traveller. And -accordingly he went out immediately, and away he walked; and he -travelled so hard that when I came to follow, I thought once that he -had dropped me; for though I rode hard, I got no sight of him for an -hour. At length, having passed the great bank called the Devil’s -Ditch, I found him, and took him up behind me, and we rode double till -we came almost to the end of Newmarket town. Just at the hither house -in the town stood a horse at a door, just as it was at Puckeridge. -“Now,” says Jack, “if the horse was at the other end of the town I -would have him, as sure as we had the other at Puckeridge;” but it -would not do; so he got down and walked through the town on the -right-hand side of the way.</p> - -<p>He had not got half through the town but the horse, having somehow or -other got loose, came trotting gently on by himself, and nobody -following him. The captain, an old soldier at such work, as soon as -the horse was got a pretty way before him, and that he saw nobody -followed, sets up a run after the horse, and the horse, hearing him -follow, ran the faster. Then the captain calls out, “Stop the horse!” -and by this time the horse was got almost to the farther end of the -town, the people of the house where he stood not missing him all the -while.</p> - -<p>Upon his calling out, “Stop the horse!” the poor people of the town, -such as were next at hand, ran from both sides the way and stopped the -horse for him, as readily as could be, and held him for him till he -came up. He very gravely comes up to the horse, hits him a blow or -two, and calls him dog for running away, gives the man twopence that -catched him for him, mounts, and away he comes after me.</p> - -<p>This was the oddest adventure that could have happened, for the horse -stole the captain, the captain did not steal the horse. When he came -up to me, “Now, Colonel Jacque,” says he, “what say you to good luck? -Would you have had me refuse the horse, when he came so civilly to ask -me to ride?” “No, no,” said I; “you have got this horse by your wit, -not by design; and you may go on now, I think. You are in a safer -condition than I am, if we are taken.”</p> - -<p> -The next question was what road we should take. Here were four ways -before us, and we were alike strangers to them all. First, on the -right hand, and at about a little mile from the town, a great road -went off to St. Edmund’s Bury; straight on, but inclining afterwards -to the right, lay the great road to Barton Mills and Thetford, and so -to Norwich; and full before us lay a great road, also, to Brandon and -Lynn; and on the left lay a less road to the city of Ely, and into the -fens. -</p> - -<p>In short, as we knew not which road to take, nor which way to get into -the great north road, which we had left, so we, by mere unguided -chance, took the way to Brandon, and so to Lynn. At Brand, or Brandon, -we were told that, passing over at a place called Downham Bridge, we -might cross the fen country to Wisbeach, and from thence go along that -bank of the river Nene to Peterborough, and from thence to Stamford, -where we were in the northern road again; and likewise, that at Lynn -we might go by the Washes into Lincolnshire, and so might travel -north. But, upon the whole, this was my rule, that, when we inquired -the way to any particular place, to be sure we never took that road, -but some other which the accidental discourse we might have should -bring in. And thus we did here; for, having chiefly asked our way into -the northern road, we resolved to go directly for Lynn.</p> - -<p>We arrived here very easy and safe, and while we was considering of -what way we should travel next we found we were got to a point, and -that there was no way now left but that by the Washes into -Lincolnshire, and that was represented as very dangerous; so an -opportunity offering of a man that was travelling over the fens, we -took him for our guide, and went with him to Spalding, and from thence -to a town called Deeping, and so to Stamford in Lincolnshire.</p> - -<p>This is a large, populous town, and it was market-day when we came to -it; so we put in at a little house at the hither end of the town, and -walked into the town.</p> - -<p>Here it was not possible to restrain my captain from playing his feats -of art, and my heart ached for him. I told him I would not go with -him, for he would not promise, and I was so terribly concerned at the -apprehensions of his venturous humour that I would not so much as stir -out of my lodging; but it was in vain to persuade him. He went into -the market, and found a mountebank there, which was what he wanted. -How he picked two pockets there in one quarter of an hour, and brought -to our quarters a piece of new holland of eight or nine ells, a piece -of stuff, and played three or four pranks more in less than two hours; -and how afterward he robbed a doctor of physic, and yet came off -clear in them all—this, I say, as above, belongs to his story, not -mine.</p> - -<p>I scolded heartily at him when he came back, and told him he would -certainly ruin himself, and me too, before he left off, and threatened -in so many words that I would leave him, and go back and carry the -horse to Puckeridge where we borrowed it, and so go to London by -myself.</p> - -<p>He promised amendment; but as we resolved (now we were in the great -road) to travel by night, so it being not yet night, he gives me the -slip again, and was not gone half-an-hour but he comes back with a -gold watch in his hand: “Come,” says he, “why ain’t you ready to go? I -am ready to go as soon as you will;” and with that he pulls out the -gold watch. I was amazed at such a thing as that in a country town; -but it seems there was prayers at one of the churches in the evening, -and he, placing himself as the occasion directed, found the way to be -so near the lady as to get it from her side, and walked off with it -unperceived.</p> - -<p>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 carry it home. “Well,” says I, “you are -afraid, and you have reason. Give it me; I will venture to carry it -again.” But he would not let me, but told me that when he came into -Scotland we might sell anything there without danger; which was true -indeed, for there they asked us no questions.</p> - -<p>We set out, as I said, in the evening by moon light, and travelled -hard, the road being very plain and large, till we came to Grantham, -by which time it was about two in the morning, and all the town, as it -were, dead asleep. So we went on for Newark, where we reached about -eight in the morning, and there we lay down and slept most of the day; -and by this sleeping so continually in the day-time I kept him from -doing a great deal of mischief, which he would otherwise have done.</p> - -<p>From Newark we took advice of one that was accidentally comparing the -roads, and we concluded that the road by Nottingham would be the best -for us; so we turned out of the great road, and went up the side of -the Trent to Nottingham. Here he played his pranks again in a manner -that it was the greatest wonder imaginable to me that he was not -surprised, and yet he came off clear. And now he had got so many bulky -goods that he bought him a portmanteau to carry them in. It was in -vain for me to offer to restrain him any more; so after this he went -on his own way.</p> - -<p>At Nottingham, I say, he had such success that made us the hastier to -be going than otherwise we would have been, lest we would have been -baulked, and should be laid hold of. From thence we left the road, -which leads to the north again, and went away by Mansfield into -Scarsdale, in Yorkshire.</p> - -<p>I shall take up no more of my own story with his pranks; they very -well merit to be told by themselves. But I shall observe only what -relates to our journey. In a word, I dragged him along as fast as I -could, till I came to Leeds, in Yorkshire. Here, though it be a large -and populous town, yet he could make nothing of it; neither had he any -success at Wakefield; and he told me, in short, that the north-country -people were certainly all thieves. “Why so?” said I. “The people seem -to be just as other people are.” “No, no,” says he; “they have their -eyes so about them, and are all so sharp, they look upon everybody -that comes near them to be a pickpocket, or else they would never -stand so upon their guard. And then again,” says he, “they are so -poor, there is but little to be got; and I am afraid,” says he, “the -farther we go north, we shall find it worse.” “Well,” says I, “what do -you infer from thence?” “I argue from thence,” says he, “that we shall -do nothing there, and I had as good go back into the south and be -hanged as into the north to be starved.”</p> - -<p>Well, we came at length to Newcastle-upon-Tyne. Here, on a market-day, -was a great throng of people, and several of the townspeople going to -market to buy provisions; and here he played his pranks, cheated a -shopkeeper of £15 or £16 in goods, and got clear away with them; stole -a horse, and sold that he came upon, and played so many pranks that I -was quite frighted for him. I say for him, for I was not concerned for -myself, having never stirred out of the house where I lodged—at least -not with him, nor without some or other with me belonging to the inn -that might give an account of me.</p> - -<p>Nor did I use this caution in vain; for he had made himself so public -by his rogueries that he was waylaid everywhere to be taken, and had -he not artfully at first given out that he was come from Scotland and -was going toward London, inquiring that road, and the like, which -amused his pursuers for the first day, he had been taken, and in all -probability had been hanged there. But by that artifice he got half a -day’s time of them; and yet, as it was, he was put so to it that he -was fain to plunge, horse and all, into the river Tweed, and swim -over, and thereby made his escape. It was true that he was before upon -Scots ground (as they call it), and consequently they had no power to -have carried him off, if anybody had opposed them; yet, as they were -in a full chase after him, could they have come up with him they would -have run the risk of the rest, and they could but have delivered him -up if they had been questioned about it. However, as he got over the -Tweed, and was landed safe, they could neither follow him, the water -being too high at the usual place of going over, nor could they have -attempted to have brought him away if they had taken him. The place -where he took the river was where there is a ford below Kelso, but the -water being up, the ford was not passable, and he had no time to go to -the ferry-boat, which is about a furlong off, opposite to the town.</p> - -<p>Having thus made his escape, he went to Kelso, where he had appointed -me to come after him. I followed with a heavy heart, expecting every -hour to meet him upon the road in the custody of the constables and -such people, or to hear of him in the gaol; but when I came to a place -on the border called Woller-haugh-head, there I understood how he had -been chased, and how he made his escape.</p> - -<p>When I came to Kelso he was easy enough to be found; for his having -desperately swam the Tweed, a rapid and large river, made him much -talked of, though it seems they had not heard of the occasion of it, -nor anything of his character; for he had wit enough to conceal all -that, and live as retired as he could till I came to him.</p> - -<p>I was not so much rejoiced at his safety as I was provoked at his -conduct; and the more, for that I could not find he had yet the least -notion of his having been void of common-sense with respect to his -circumstances, as well as contrary to what he promised me. However, as -there was no beating anything into his head by words, I only told him -that I was glad he was at last gotten into a place of safety, and I -asked him then how he intended to manage himself in that country. He -said in few words he did not know yet. He doubted the people were very -poor; but if they had any money he was resolved to have some of it.</p> - -<p>“But do you know, too,” says I, “that they are the severest people -upon criminals of your kind in the world?” He did not value that, he -said, in his blunt, short way; he would venture it. Upon this I told -him that, seeing it was so, and he would run such ventures, I would -take my leave of him and be gone back to England. He seemed sullen, or -rather it was the roughness of his untractable disposition. He said I -might do what I would, he would do as he found opportunity. However, -we did not part immediately, but went on towards the capital city. On -the road we found too much poverty and too few people to give him room -to expect any advantage in his way; and though he had his eyes about -him as sharp as a hawk, yet he saw plainly there was nothing to be -done; for as to the men, they did not seem to have much money about -them; and for the women, their dress was such that, had they any -money, or indeed any pockets, it was impossible to come at them; for, -wearing large plaids about them and down to their knees, they were -wrapped up so close that there was no coming to make the least attempt -of that kind.</p> - -<p>Kelso was indeed a good town, and had abundance of people in it; and -yet, though he stayed one Sunday there, and saw the church, which is -very large and thronged with people, yet, as he told me, there was not -one woman to be seen in all the church with any other dress than a -plaid, except in two pews, which belonged to some nobleman, and who, -when they came out, were so surrounded with footmen and servants that -there was no coming near them, any more than there was any coming near -the king surrounded by his guards.</p> - -<p>We set out, therefore, with this discouragement, which I was secretly -glad of, and went forward to Edinburgh. All the way thither we went -through no considerable town, and it was but very coarse travelling -for us, who were strangers; for we met with waters which were very -dangerous to pass, by reason of hasty rains, at a place called -Lauderdale, and where my captain was really in danger of drowning, his -horse being driven down by the stream, and fell under him, by which he -wetted and spoiled his stolen goods that he brought from Newcastle, -and which he had kept dry strangely, by holding them up in his arms -when he swam the Tweed. But here it wanted but little that he and his -horse had been lost, not so much by the depth of the water as the fury -of the current. But he had a proverb in his favour, and he got out of -the water, though with difficulty enough, not being born to be -drowned, as I shall observe afterwards in its place.</p> - -<p>We came to Edinburgh the third day from Kelso, having stopped at an -inn one whole day, at a place called Soutrahill, to dry our goods and -refresh ourselves. We were oddly saluted at Edinburgh. The next day -after we came thither, my captain having a desire to walk and look -about him, asked me if I would go and see the town. I told him yes; so -we went out, and coming through a gate that they call the Nether Bow, -into the great High Street, which went up to the Cross, we were -surprised to see it thronged with an infinite number of people. “Ay,” -says my captain, “this will do.” However, as I had made him promise to -make no adventures that day, otherwise I told him I would not go out -with him, so I held him by the sleeve, and would not let him stir from -me.</p> - -<p>Then we came up to the Market Cross, and there besides the great -number of people who passed and repassed, we saw a great parade or -kind of meeting, like an exchange of gentlemen, of all ranks and -qualities, and this encouraged my captain again, and he pleased -himself with that sight.</p> - -<p>It was while we were looking, and wondering at what we saw here, that -we were surprised with a sight which we little expected. We observed -the people running on a sudden, as to see some strange thing just -coming along; and strange it was indeed: for we see two men naked from -the waist upwards run by us as swift as the wind, and we imagined -nothing but that it was two men running a race for some mighty wager. -On a sudden we found two long, small ropes or lines, which hung down -at first, pulled straight, and the two racers stopped, and stood -still, one close by the other. We could not imagine what this meant, -but the reader may judge at our surprise when we found a man follow -after, who had the ends of both those lines in his hands, and who, -when he came up to them, gave each of them two frightful lashes with a -wire whip or lash, which he held in the other hand. And then the two -poor naked wretches run on again to the length of their line or -tether, where they waited for the like salutation; and in this -manner they danced the length of the whole street, which is about -half-a-mile.</p> - -<p>This was a dark prospect to my captain, and put him in mind, not only -of what he was to expect if he made a slip in the way of his -profession in this place, but also of what he had suffered when he was -but a boy, at the famous place called Bridewell.</p> - -<p>But this was not all; for, as we saw the execution, so we were curious -to examine into the crime too; and we asked a young fellow who stood -near us what the two men had done for which they suffered that -punishment. The fellow, an unhappy, ill-natured Scotchman, perceived -by our speech that we were Englishmen, and by our question that we -were strangers, told us, with a malicious wit, that they were two -Englishmen, and that they were whipped so for picking pockets, and -other petty thieveries, and that they were afterwards to be sent away -over the border into England.</p> - -<p>Now this was every word of it false, and was only formed by his nimble -invention to insult us as Englishmen; for when we inquired further, -they were both Scotchmen, and were thus scourged for the usual -offences for which we give the like punishment in England. And the man -who held the line and scourged them was the city hangman, who (by the -way) is there an officer of note, has a constant salary, and is a man -of substance; and not only so, but a most dexterous fellow in his -office, and makes a great deal of money of his employment.</p> - -<p>This sight, however, was very shocking to us; and my captain turned to -me: “Come,” says he, “let us go away; I won’t stay here any longer.” I -was glad to hear him say so, but did not think he had meant or -intended what he said. However, we went back to our quarters, and kept -pretty much within, only that in the evenings we walked about. But -even then my captain found no employment, no encouragement. Two or -three times, indeed, he made a prize of some mercery and millinery -goods; but when he had them he knew not what to do with them, so that, -in short, he was forced to be honest in spite of his goodwill to be -otherwise.</p> - -<p>We remained here about a month, when, on a sudden, my captain was -gone, horse and all, and I 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 whither he was gone or -whether he would return to Edinburgh again or no.</p> - -<p>I took his leaving me very heinously, 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 make much of him; and, on the -other hand, I had a secret resolution, if I had gone back to England, -to have restored him to the owner, at Puckeridge, by Ware. And so I -should have wronged him of nothing but the use of him for so long a -time; but I found an occasion to answer all my designs about the horse -to advantage.</p> - -<p>There came a man to the stabler—so they call the people at Edinburgh -that take in horses to keep—and wanted to know if he could hear of -any returned horses for England. My landlord, so we called him, came -bluntly to me one day, and asked me if my horse was my own. It was an -odd question, as my circumstances stood, and puzzled me at first; and -I asked why, and what was the matter. “Because,” says he, “if it be a -hired horse in England, as is often the case with Englishmen who come -to Scotland, I could help you to send it back, and get you something -for riding.” So he expressed himself.</p> - -<p>I was very glad of the occasion, and, in short, took security there of -the person for delivering the horse safe and sound, and had 15s. -sterling for the riding him. Upon this agreement, I gave order to -leave the horse at the Falcon, at Puckeridge, and where I heard, many -years after, that he was honestly left, and that the owner had him -again, but had nothing for the loan of him.</p> - -<p>Being thus eased of the expense of my horse, and having nothing at all -to do, I began to consider with 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 I would not join with -my captain in his desperate attempts, yet I made no scruple to live at -his expense, which, as I came out of England only to keep him company, -had been but just, had I not known that all he had to spend upon me -was what he robbed honest people of, and that I was all that while a -receiver of stolen goods. But I was not come off so far then as to -scruple that part at all.</p> - -<p>In the next place, I was not so anxious about my money running low, -because I knew what a reserve I had made at London. But still I was -very willing to have engaged in any honest employment for a -livelihood, for I was sick indeed of the wandering life which I had -led, and was resolved to thieve no more. But then two or three things -which I had offered me I lost, because I could not write or read.</p> - -<p>This afflicted me a great while very much; but the stabler, as I have -called him, delivered me from my anxiety that way by bringing me to an -honest but a poor young man, who undertook to teach me both to write -and read, and in a little time too, and for a small expense, if I -would take pains at it. I promised all possible diligence, and to work -I went with it, but found the writing much more difficult to me than -the reading.</p> - -<p>However, in half a year’s time, or thereabouts, I could read, and -write too, tolerably well, insomuch that I began to think I was now -fit for business. And I got by it into the service of a certain -officer of the customs, who employed me for a time; but as he set me -to do little but pass and repass between Leeds and Edinburgh, with the -accounts which he kept for the farmers of the customs there, leaving -me to live at my own expense till my wages should be due, I run out -the little money I had left, in clothes and subsistence, and a little -before the year’s end, when I was to have £12 English money, truly my -master was turned out of his place; and, which was worse, having been -charged with some misapplications, was obliged to take shelter in -England, and so we that were servants, for there were three of us, -were left to shift for ourselves.</p> - -<p>This was a hard case for me in a strange place, and I was reduced by -it to the last extremity. I might have gone for England, an English -ship being there. The master proffered me to give me my passage (upon -telling him my distress), and to take my word for the payment of 10s. -when I came there. But my captain appeared just then under new -circumstances, which obliged him not to go away, and I was loth to -leave him. It seems we were yet further to take our fate together.</p> - -<p>I have mentioned that he left me, and that I saw him no more for -eighteen months. His rambles and adventures were many in that time. He -went to Glasgow, played some remarkable pranks there, escaped almost -miraculously from the gallows; got over to Ireland, wandered about -there, turned raparee, and did some villainous things there, and -escaped from Londonderry, over to the Highlands in the north of -Scotland; and about a month before I was left destitute at Leith by my -master, behold! my noble Captain Jacque came in there, on board the -ferry-boat from Fife, being, after all adventures and successes, -advanced to the dignity of a foot-soldier in a body of recruits raised -in the north for the regiment of Douglas.</p> - -<p>After my disaster, being reduced almost as low as my captain, I found -no better shift before me, at least 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; and I confess that thing did not sit -so ill upon me as I thought at first it would have done; for though I -fared hard and lodged ill (for the last, especially, is the fate of -poor soldiers in that part of the world), yet to me that had been used -to lodge on the ashes in the glass house, this was no great matter. I -had a secret satisfaction at being now under no necessity of stealing, -and living in fear of a prison, and of the lash of the hangman—a -thing which, from the time I saw it in Edinburgh, was so terrible to -me that I could not think of it without horror. And it was an -inexpressible ease to my mind that I was now in a certain way of -living, which was honest, and which I could say was not unbecoming a -gentleman.</p> - -<p>Whatever was my satisfaction in that part, yet other circumstances did -not equally concur to make this life suit me; for after we had been -about six months in this figure, we were informed that the recruits -were all to march for England, and to be shipped off at Newcastle, or -at Hull, to join the regiment, which was then in Flanders.</p> - -<p>I should tell you that, before this, I was extremely delighted with -the life of a soldier, and I took the exercise so naturally that the -sergeant that taught us to handle our arms, seeing me so ready at it, -asked me if I had never carried arms before. I told him no; at which -he swore, though jesting. “They call you colonel,” says he, “and I -believe you will be a colonel, or you must be some colonel’s bastard, -or you would never handle your arms as you do, at once or twice -showing.”</p> - -<p>This pleased me extremely, and encouraged me, and I was mightily taken -with the life of a soldier; but when my captain came and told me the -news, that we were to march for England, and to be shipped off for -Flanders at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, I was surprised very much, and new -thoughts began to come in my mind; as, first, my captain’s condition -was particular, for he durst not appear publicly at Newcastle, as he -must have done if he had marched with the battalion (for they were a -body of above four hundred, and therefore called themselves a -battalion, though we were but recruits, and belonged to several -companies abroad)—I say, he must have marched with them, and been -publicly seen, in which case he would have been apprehended and -delivered up. In the next place I remembered that I had almost £100 in -money in London, and if it should have 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 answer in -the affirmative—£100 being at that time sufficient to buy colours in -any new regiment, though not in that regiment, which was on an old -establishment. This whetted my ambition, and I dreamt of nothing but -being a gentleman officer, as well as a gentleman soldier.</p> - -<p>These two circumstances concurring, I began to be very uneasy, and -very unwilling in my thoughts to go over a poor musqueteer into -Flanders, to be knocked on the head at the tune of 3s. 6d. a week. -While I was daily musing on the circumstances of being sent away, as -above, and considering what to do, my captain comes to me one evening: -“Hark ye, Jacque,” says he, “I must speak with you; let us take a walk -in the fields a little out from the houses.” We were quartered at a -place called Park End, near the town of Dunbar, about twenty miles -from Berwick-upon-Tweed, and about sixteen miles from the river Tweed, -the nearest way.</p> - -<p>We walked together here, and talked seriously upon the matter. The -captain told me how his case stood, and that he durst not march with -the battalion into Newcastle; that if he did he should be taken out of -the ranks and tried for his life, and that I knew as well as he. “I -could go privately to Newcastle,” says he, “and go through the town -well enough, but to go publicly is to run into the jaws of -destruction.” “Well,” says I, “that is very true; but what will you -do?” “Do!” says he. “Do you think I am so bound by honour, as a -gentleman soldier, that I will be hanged for them? No, no,” says he; -“I am resolved to be gone, and I would have you go with us.” Said I, -“What do you mean by us?” “Why, here is another honest fellow, an -Englishman also,” says he, “that is resolved to desert too, and he has -been a long while in their service, and says he knows how we shall be -used abroad, and he will not go to Flanders, says he, not he.”</p> - -<p>“Why,” says I, “you will be shot to death for deserters if you are -taken, and they will send out scouts for you in the morning all over -the country, so that you will certainly fall into their hands.” “As -for that,” says he, “my comrade is thoroughly acquainted with the way, -and he has undertaken to bring us to the banks of the Tweed before -they can come up with us; and when we are on the other side of the -Tweed, they can’t take us up.”</p> - -<p>“And when would you go away?” says I.</p> - -<p>“This minute,” says he; “no time to be lost; ’tis a fine moonshining -night.”</p> - -<p>“I have none of my baggage,” says I; “let me go back and fetch my -linen and other things.”</p> - -<p>“Your linen is not much, I suppose,” says he, “and we shall easily get -more in England the old way.”</p> - -<p>“No,” says I, “no more of your old ways. It has been owing to those -old ways that we are now in such a strait.”</p> - -<p>“Well, well,” says he, “the old ways are better than this starving -life of a gentleman, as we call it.”</p> - -<p>“But,” says I, “we have no money in our pockets. How shall we travel?”</p> - -<p>“I have a little,” says the captain, “enough to help us on to -Newcastle; and if we can get none by the way, we will get some -collier-ship to take us in and carry us to London by sea.”</p> - -<p>“I like that the best of all the measures you have laid yet,” said I; -and so I consented to go, and went off with him immediately. The -cunning rogue, having lodged his comrade a mile off under the hills, -had dragged me by talking with him, by little and little, that way, -till just when I consented he was in sight, and he said, “Look, -there’s my comrade!” who I knew presently, having seen him among the -men.</p> - -<p>Being thus gotten under the hills, and a mile off the way, and the day -just shut in, we kept on apace, resolving, if possible, to get out of -the reach of our pursuers before they should miss us or know anything -of our being gone.</p> - -<p>We plied our time so well and travelled so hard that by five o’clock -in the morning, we were at a little village whose name I forget; but -they told us that we were within eight miles of the Tweed, and that as -soon as we should be over the river we were on English ground.</p> - -<p>We refreshed a little here, but marched on with but little stay. -However, it was half-an-hour past eight in the morning before we -reached the Tweed, so it was at least twelve miles, when they told us -it was but eight. Here we overtook two more of the same regiment, who -had deserted from Haddington, where another part of the recruits were -quartered.</p> - -<p>Those were Scotchmen, and very poor, having not one penny in their -pockets, and had no more when they made their escape but 8s. between -them. And when they saw us, whom they knew to be of the same regiment -they took us to be pursuers, and that we came to lay hold of them; -upon which they stood upon their defence, having the regiment swords -on, as we had also, but none of the mounting or clothing; for we were -not to receive the clothing till we came to the regiment in Flanders.</p> - -<p>It was not long before we made them understand that we were in the -same circumstances with themselves, and so we soon became one company; -and after resting some time on the English side of the river (for we -were heartily tired, and the others were as much fatigued as we -were)—I say, after resting awhile, we set forwards towards Newcastle, -whither we resolved to go to get our passage by sea to London; for we -had not money to hold us out any farther.</p> - -<p>Our money was ebbed very low; for though I had one piece of gold in my -pocket, which I kept reserved for the last extremity, yet it was but -half-a-guinea, and my captain had bore all our charges as far as his -money would go, so that when we came to Newcastle we had but sixpence -left in all to help ourselves, and the two Scots had begged their way -all along the road.</p> - -<p>We contrived to come into Newcastle in the dusk of the evening, and -even then we durst not venture into the public part of the town, but -made down towards the river, something below the town, where some -glass-houses stand. Here we knew not what to do with ourselves; but, -guided by our fate, we put a good face upon the matter, and went into -an alehouse, sat down, and called for a pint of beer.</p> - -<p>The house was kept by a woman only—that is to say, we saw no other; -and as she appeared very frank and entertained us cheerfully, we at -last told our condition, and asked her if she could not help us to -some kind master of a collier that would give us a passage to London -by sea. The subtle devil, who immediately found us proper fish for her -hook, gave us the kindest 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 particular acquaintance, that went away but -with the morning tide; that the ship was fallen down to Shields, but -she believed was hardly over the bar yet, and she would send to his -house and see if he was gone on board; for sometimes the 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.</p> - -<p>We begged her to send to his house, for we knew not what to do, and if -she could oblige him to take us on board, we did not care what time of -night it was; for, as we had no money, we had no lodging, and we -wanted nothing but to be on board.</p> - -<p>We looked upon this as a mighty favour, that she sent to the master’s -house, and, to our greater 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 the way home.</p> - -<p>This was all in our favour, and we were extremely pleased with it. -About an hour after, the landlady being in the room with us, her maid -brings us word the master was below. So down she goes to him, telling -us she would go and tell him our case, and see to persuade him to take -us all on board. After some time she comes up with him, and brings him -into the room to us. “Where are these honest gentlemen soldiers,” says -he, “that are in such distress?” We stood all up, and paid our -respects to him. “Well, gentlemen, and is all your money spent?”</p> - -<p>“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 will be very -willing to do anything we can in the ship, though we are not seamen.”</p> - -<p>“Why,” says he, “were none of you ever at sea in your lives?”</p> - -<p>“No,” says we, “not one of us.”</p> - -<p>“You will be able to do me no service, then,” says he; “for you will -be all sick. Well, however,” says he, “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 this very night?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir,” says we again; “we are ready to go this minute.”</p> - -<p>“No, no,” says he very kindly; “we’ll drink together. Come, landlady,” -says he, “make these honest gentlemen a sneaker of punch.”</p> - -<p>We looked at one another, for we knew we had no money, and he -perceived it. “Come, come,” says he, “don’t be concerned at your -having no money; my landlady here and I never part with dry lips. -Come, goodwife,” says he, “make the punch as I bid you.”</p> - -<p>We thanked him and said, “God bless you, noble captain,” a hundred -times over, being overjoyed with such good luck. While we were -drinking the punch he calls the landlady: “Come,” says he, “I’ll step -home and take my things, and bid them good-bye, and order the boat to -come at high water and take me up here. And pray, goodwife,” says he, -“get me something for supper. Sure, if I can give these honest men -their passage, I may give them a bit of victuals too; it may be they -han’t had much for dinner.”</p> - -<p>With this away he went, and in a little while we heard the jack -a-going; and one of us, going down stairs for a spy, brought us word -there was a good leg of mutton at the fire. In less than an hour our -captain came again, and came up to us, and blamed us that we had not -drank all the punch out. “Come,” says he, “don’t be bashful; when that -is out we can have another. When I am obliging poor men, I love to do -it handsomely.”</p> - -<p>We drank on, and drank the punch out, and more was brought up, and he -pushed it about apace; and then came up a leg of mutton, and I need -not say that we ate heartily, being told several times that we should -pay nothing. After supper was done he bids my landlady ask if the boat -was come. And she brought word no; it was not high water by a good -deal. “No!” says he. “Well, then, give us some more punch.” So more -punch was brought in, and, as was afterwards confessed, something was -put into it, or more brandy than ordinary, and by that time the punch -was drunk out we were all very drunk; and as for me, I was asleep.</p> - -<p>About the time that was out we were told the boat was come; so we -tumbled out, almost over one another, into the boat, and away we went, -and our captain in the boat. 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 waked 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, we were all gotten into the ship. All I remember of it -was this, that as soon as we were on board our captain, as we called -him, called out thus: “Here, boatswain, take care of these gentlemen, -and give them good cabins, and let them turn in and go to sleep, for -they are very weary;” and so indeed we were, and very drunk too, being -the first time I had ever drank punch in my life.</p> - -<p>Well, 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 meantime the ship, which was indeed just ready to go, and only on -notice given had come to an anchor for us at Shields, weighed, stood -over the bar, and went off to sea; and when we waked, 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 we understood -it. We were very well used and well satisfied with our condition for -about three days, when we began to inquire whether we were not almost -come, and how much longer it would be before we should come into the -river. “What river?” says one of the men. “Why, the Thames,” says my -Captain Jacque. “The Thames!” says the seaman. “What do you mean by -that? What, han’t you had time enough to be sober yet?” So Captain -Jacque said no more, but looked about him like a fool; when, a while -after, some other of us asked the like question, and the seaman, who -knew nothing of the cheat, began to smell a trick, and turning to the -other Englishman that came with us, “Pray,” says he, “where do you -fancy you are going, that you ask so often about it?” “Why, to -London,” says he. “Where should we be going? We agreed with the -captain to carry us to London.” “Not with the captain,” says he, “I -dare say. Poor men! you are all cheated; and I thought so when I saw -you come aboard with that kidnapping rogue Gilliman. Poor men!” adds -he, “you are all be trayed. Why, you are going to Virginia, and the -ship is bound to Virginia.”</p> - -<p>The Englishman falls a-storming and raving like a madman, and we -gathering round him, let any man guess, if they can, what was our -surprise and how we were confounded when we were told how it was. In -short, we drew our swords and began to lay about us, and made such a -noise and hurry in the ship that at last the seamen were obliged to -call out for help. The captain commanded us to be disarmed in the -first place, which was not, however, done without giving and receiving -some wounds, and afterwards he caused us to be brought to him into the -great cabin.</p> - -<p>Here he talked very calmly to us, that he was really very sorry for -what had befallen us; that he perceived we had been trepanned, and -that the fellow who had brought us on board was a rogue that was -employed by a sort of wicked merchants not unlike himself; that he -supposed he had been represented to us as captain of the ship, and -asked us if it was not so. We told him yes, and gave him a large -account of ourselves, and how we came to the woman’s house to inquire -for some master of a collier to get a passage to London, and that this -man engaged to carry us to London in his own ship, and the like, as is -related above.</p> - -<p>He told us he was very sorry for it, and he had no hand in it; but it -was out of his power to help us, and let us know very plainly what our -condition was; namely, that we were put on board his ship as servants -to be delivered at Maryland to such a man, whom he named to us; but -that, however, if we would be quiet and orderly in the ship, he would -use us well in the passage, and take care we should be used well when -we came there, and that he would do anything for us that lay in his -power; but if we were unruly and refractory, we could not expect but -he must take such measures as to oblige us to be satisfied; and that, -in short, we must be handcuffed, carried down between the decks and -kept as prisoners, for it was his business to take care that no -disturbance must be in the ship.</p> - -<p>My captain raved like a madman, swore at the captain, told him he -would not fail to cut his throat, either on board or ashore, whenever -he came within his reach; and that, if he could not do it now, he -would do it after he came to England again, if ever he durst show his -face there again. For he might depend upon it, if he was carried away -to Virginia, he should find his way to England again; that, if it was -twenty years after, he would have satisfaction of him. “Well, young -man,” says the captain, smiling, “’tis very honestly said, and then I -must take care of you while I have you here, and afterwards I must -take care of myself.” “Do your worst,” says Jacque boldly; “I’ll pay -you home for it one time or other.” “I must venture that, young man,” -says he, still calmly, “but for the present you and I must talk a -little;” so he bids the boatswain, who stood near him, secure him, -which he did. I spoke to him to be easy and patient, and that the -captain had no hand in our misfortune.</p> - -<p>“No hand in it! D—n him,” said he aloud, “do you think he is not -confederate in this villainy? Would any honest man receive innocent -people on board his ship and not inquire of their circumstances, but -carry them away and not speak to them? And now he knows how -barbarously we are treated, why does he not set us on shore again? I -tell you he is a villain, and none but him. Why does he not complete -his villainy and murder us, and then he will be free from our revenge? -But nothing else shall ever deliver him from my hands but sending us -to the d—l, or going thither himself; and I am honester in telling -him so fairly than he has been to me, and am in no passion any more -than he is.”</p> - -<p>The captain was, I say, a little shocked at his boldness, for he -talked a great deal more of the same kind, with a great deal of spirit -and fire, and yet without any disorder in his temper. Indeed I was -surprised at it, for I never had heard him talk so well and so much to -the purpose in my life. The captain was, I say, a little shocked at -it. However, he talked very handsomely to him, and said to him, “Look -ye, young man, I bear with you the more because I am sensible your -case is very hard; and yet I cannot allow your threatening me neither, -and you oblige me by that to be severer with you than I intended. -However, I will do nothing to you but what your threatening my life -makes necessary.” The boatswain called out to have him to the geers, -as they called it, and to have him taste the cat-o’-nine-tails—all -which were terms we did not understand till afterwards, when we were -told he should have been whipped and pickled, for they said it was not -to be suffered. But the captain said, “No, no; the young man has been -really injured, and has reason to be very much provoked; but I have -not injured him,” says he. And then he protested he had no hand in it, -that he was put on board, and we also, by the owner’s agent, and for -their account; that it was true that they did always deal in servants, -and carried a great many every voyage, but that it was no profit to -him as commander; but they were always put on board by the owners, and -that it was none of his business to inquire about them; and, to prove -that he was not concerned in it, but was very much troubled at so base -a thing, and that he would not be instrumental to carry us away -against our wills, if the wind and the weather would permit, he would -set us on shore again, though, as it blowed then, the wind being at -south-west and a hard gale, and that they were already as far as the -Orkneys, it was impossible.</p> - -<p>But the captain was the same man. He told him that, let the wind blow -how it would, he ought not to carry us away against our consent; and -as to his pretences of his owners and the like, it was saying of -nothing to him, for it was he, the captain, that carried us away, and -that, whatever rogue trepanned us on board, now he knew it, he ought -no more to carry us away than murder us; and that he demanded to be -set on shore, or else he, the captain, was a thief and a murderer.</p> - -<p>The captain continued mild still; and then I put in with an argument -that had like to have brought us all back, if the weather had not -really hindered it; which, when I came to understand sea affairs -better, I found was indeed so, and that it had been impossible. I told -the captain that I was sorry that my brother was so warm, but that our -usage was villainous, which he could not deny. Then I took up the air -of what my habit did not agree with. I told him that we were not -people to be sold for slaves, that though we had the misfortune to be -in a circumstance that obliged us to conceal ourselves, having -disguised ourselves to get out of the army, as being not willing to go -into Flanders, yet that we were men of substance, and able to -discharge ourselves from the service when it came to that; and, to -convince him of it, I told him I would give him sufficient security to -pay £20 apiece for my brother and myself; and in as short time as we -could send from the place he should put into London, and receive a -return. And, to show that I was able to do it, I pulled out my bill -for £94 from the gentleman of the custom-house, and who, to my -infinite satisfaction, he knew as soon as he saw the bill. He was -astonished at this, and, lifting up his hands, “By what witchcraft,” -says he, “were ye brought hither!”</p> - -<p>“As to that,” says I, “we have told you the story, and we add nothing -to it; but we insist upon it that you will do this justice to us now.” -“Well,” says he, “I am very sorry for it, but I cannot answer putting -back the ship; neither, if I could,” says he, “is it practicable to be -done.”</p> - -<p>While this discourse lasted the two Scotchmen and the other Englishman -were silent; but as I seemed to acquiesce, the Scotchmen began to talk -to the same purpose, which I need not repeat, and had not mentioned -but for a merry passage that followed. After the Scotchmen had -said all they could, and the captain still told them they must -submit,—“And will you then carry us to Virginia?” “Yes,” says the -captain. “And will we be sold,” says the Scotchman, “when we come -there?” “Yes,” says the captain. “Why then, sir,” says the Scotchman, -“the devil will have you at the hinder end of the bargain.” “Say you -so,” says 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, and you shall be used as kindly, both here and there too, as I -can.” The poor Scotchmen could say little to it, nor I, nor any of us; -for we saw there was no remedy but to leave the devil and the captain -to agree among themselves, as the captain had said, as to the honesty -of it.</p> - -<p>Thus, in short, we were all, I say, obliged to acquiesce but my -captain, who was so much the more obstinate when he found that I had a -fund to make such an offer upon; nor could all my persuasions prevail -with him. The captain of the ship and he had many pleasant dialogues -about this in the rest of the voyage, in which Jacque never treated -him with any language but that of kidnapper and villain, nor talked of -anything but of taking his revenge of him. But I omit that part, -though very diverting, as being no part of my own story.</p> - -<p>In short, the wind continued to blow hard, though very fair, till, as -the seamen said, we were past the islands on the north of Scotland, -and that we began to steer away westerly (which I came to understand -since). As there was no land any way for many hundred leagues, so we -had no remedy but patience, and to be easy as we could; only my surly -Captain Jacque continued the same man all the way.</p> - -<p>We had a very good voyage, no storms all the way, and a northerly wind -almost twenty days together; so that, in a word, we made the capes of -Virginia in two-and-thirty days from the day we steered west, as I -have said, which was in the latitude of 60 degrees 30 minutes, being -to the north of the isle of Great Britain; and this, they said, was a -very quick passage.</p> - -<p>Nothing material happened to me during the voyage; and indeed, when I -came there, I was obliged to act in so narrow a compass that nothing -very material could present itself.</p> - -<p>When we came ashore, which was in a great river which they call -Potomac, the captain asked us, but me more particularly, whether I had -anything to propose to him now. Jacque answered, “Yes, I have -something to propose to you, captain; that is, that I have promised -you to cut your throat, and depend upon it I will be as good as my -word.” “Well, well,” says the captain, “if I can’t help it, you -shall;” so he turned away to me. I understood him very well what he -meant; but I was now out of the reach of any relief; and as for my -note, it was now but a bit of paper of no value, for nobody could -receive it but myself. I saw no remedy, and so talked coldly to him of -it as of a thing I was indifferent about; and indeed I was grown -indifferent, for I considered all the way on the voyage, that as I was -bred a vagabond, had been a pickpocket and a soldier, and was run from -my colours, and that I had no settled abode in the world, nor any -employ to get anything by, except that wicked one I was bred to, which -had the gallows at the heels of it, I did not see but that this -service might be as well to me as other business. And this I was -particularly satisfied with when they told me that after I had served -out the five years’ servitude I should have the courtesy of the -country (as they called it); that is, a certain quantity of land to -cultivate and plant for myself. So that now I was like to be brought -up to something by which I might live, without that wretched thing -called stealing, which my very soul abhorred, and which I had given -over, as I have said, ever since that wicked time that I robbed the -poor widow of Kentish Town.</p> - -<p>In this mind I was when I arrived at Virginia; and so, when the -captain inquired of me what I intended to do, and whether I had -anything to propose—that is to say, he meant whether I would give him -my bill, which he wanted to be fingering very much—I answered coldly, -my bill would be of no use to me now, for nobody would advance -anything upon it. Only this I would say to him, that if he would carry -me and Captain Jacque back to England, and to London again, I would -pay him the £20 off my bill for each of us. This he had no mind to; -“for, as to your brother,” says he, “I would not take him into my ship -for twice £20, he is such a hardened, desperate villain,” says he; “I -should be obliged to carry him in irons as I brought him hither.”</p> - -<p>Thus we parted with our captain or kidnapper, call him as you will. We -were then delivered to the merchants to whom we were consigned, who -again disposed of us as they thought fit; and in a few days we were -separated.</p> - -<p>As for my Captain Jacque, to make short of the story, that desperate -rogue had the luck to have a very easy, good master, whose easiness -and good humour he abused very much; and, in particular, took an -opportunity to run away with a boat which his master entrusted him and -another with to carry some provisions down the river to another -plantation which he had there. This boat and provisions they ran away -with, and sailed north to the bottom of the bay, as they call it, and -into a river called Susquehanna, and there quitting the boat, they -wandered through the woods, till they came to Pennsylvania, from -whence they made shift to get passage to New England, and from thence -home; where, falling in among his old companions and to the old trade, -he was at length taken and hanged, about a month before I came to -London, which was near twenty years afterwards.</p> - -<p>My part was harder at the beginning, though better at the latter -end. I was disposed of, that is to say, sold, to a rich planter -whose name was Smith, and with me the other Englishman, who was my -fellow-deserter, that Jacque brought me to when we went off from -Dunbar.</p> - -<p>We were now fellow-servants, and it was our lot to be carried up a -small river or creek which falls into Potomac river, about eight miles -from the great river. Here we were brought to the plantation, and put -in among about fifty servants, as well negroes as others; and being -delivered to the head man, or director, or manager of the plantation, -he took care to let us know that we must expect to work, and very hard -too; for it was for that purpose his master bought servants, and for -no other. I told him, very submissively, that since it was our -misfortune to come into such a miserable condition as we were in, we -expected no other; only we desired we might be showed our business, -and be allowed to learn it gradually, since he might be sure we had -not been used to labour; and I added that when he knew particularly by -what methods we were brought and betrayed into such a condition, he -would perhaps see cause at least to show us that favour, if not more. -This I spoke with such a moving tone as gave him a curiosity to -inquire into the particulars of our story, which I gave him at large, -a little more to our advantage, too, than ordinary.</p> - -<p>This story, as I hoped it would, did move him to a sort of tenderness; -but yet he told us that his master’s business must be done, and that -he expected we must work as above; that he could not dispense with -that upon any account whatever. Accordingly, to work we went; and -indeed we had three hard things attending us; namely, we worked hard, -lodged hard, and fared hard. The first I had been an utter stranger -to; the last I could shift well enough with.</p> - -<p>During this scene of life I had time to reflect on my past hours, and -upon what I had done in the world; and though I had no great capacity -of making a clear judgment, and very little reflections from -conscience, yet it made some impressions upon me; and particularly, -that I was brought into this miserable condition of a slave by some -strange directing power as a punishment for the wickedness of my -younger years; and this thought was increased upon the following -occasion. The master whose service I was now engaged in was a man of -substance and figure in the country, and had abundance of servants, as -well negroes as English; in all, I think, he had near two hundred; and -among so many, as some grew every year infirm and unable to work, -others went off upon their time being expired, and others died; and by -these and other accidents the number would diminish, if they were not -often recruited and filled, and this obliged him to buy more every -year.</p> - -<p>It happened while I was here that a ship arrived from London with -several servants, and among the rest was seventeen transported felons, -some burnt in the hand, others not; eight of whom my master bought for -the time specified in the warrant for their transportation -respectively, some for a longer, some a shorter, term of years.</p> - -<p>Our master was a great man in the country, and a justice of peace, -though he seldom came down to the plantation where I was. Yet, as the -new servants were brought on shore and delivered at our plantation, -his worship came thither, in a kind of state, to see and receive them. -When they were brought before him I was called, among other servants, -as a kind of guard, to take them into custody after he had seen them, -and carry them to the work. They were brought by a guard of seamen -from the ship, and the second mate of the ship came with them, and -delivered them to our master, with the warrant for their -transportation, as above.</p> - -<p>When his worship had read over the warrants, he called them over by -their names, one by one, and having let them know, by his reading the -warrants over again to each man respectively, that he knew for what -offences they were transported, he talked to every one separately very -gravely; let them know how much favour they had received in being -saved from the gallows, which the law had appointed for their crimes; -that they were not sentenced to be transported, but to be hanged, and -that transportation was granted them upon their own request and humble -petition.</p> - -<p>Then he laid before them that they ought to look upon the life they -were just going to enter upon as just beginning the world again; that -if they thought fit to be diligent and sober, they would, after the -time they were ordered to serve was expired, be encouraged by the -constitution of the country to settle and plant for themselves; and -that even he himself would be so kind to them, that if he lived to see -any of them serve their time faithfully out, it was his custom to -assist his servants in order to their settling in that country, -according as their behaviour might merit from him; and they would see -and know several planters round about them who now were in very good -circumstances, and who formerly were only his servants, in the same -condition with them, and came from the same place—that is to say, -Newgate; and some of them had the mark of it in their hands, but were -now very honest men and lived in very good repute.</p> - -<p>Among the rest of his new servants, he came to a young fellow not -above seventeen or eighteen years of age, and his warrant mentions -that he was, though a young man, yet an old offender; that he had been -several times condemned, but had been respited or pardoned, but still -he continued an incorrigible pickpocket; that the crime for which he -was now transported was for picking a merchant’s pocket-book, or -letter-case, out of his pocket, in which was bills of exchange for a -very great sum of money; that he had afterwards received the money -upon some of the bills, but that going to a goldsmith in Lombard -Street with another bill, and having demanded the money, he was -stopped, notice having been given of the loss of them; that he was -condemned to die for the felony, and being so well known for an old -offender, had certainly died, but the merchant, upon his earnest -application, had obtained that he should be transported, on condition -that he restored all the rest of his bills, which he had done -accordingly.</p> - -<p>Our master talked a long time to this young fellow; mentioned, with -some surprise, that he so young should have followed such a wicked -trade so long as to obtain the name of an old offender at so young an -age; and that he should be styled incorrigible, which is to signify -that notwithstanding his being whipped two or three times, and several -times punished by imprisonment, and once burnt in the hand, yet -nothing would do him any good, but that he was still the same. He -talked mighty religiously to this boy, and told him God had not only -spared him from the gallows, but had now mercifully delivered him from -the opportunity of committing the same sin again, and put it into his -power to live an honest life, which perhaps he knew not how to do -before; and though some part of his life now might be laborious, yet -he ought to look on it to be no more than being put out apprentice to -an honest trade, in which, when he came out of his time, he might be -able to set up for himself and live honestly.</p> - -<p>Then he told him that while he was a servant he would have no -opportunity to be dishonest; so when he came to be for himself he -would have no temptation to it; and so, after a great many other kind -things said to him and the rest, they were dismissed.</p> - -<p>I was exceedingly moved at this discourse of our master’s, as anybody -would judge I must be, when it was directed to such a young rogue, -born a thief, and bred up a pickpocket, like myself; for I thought all -my master said was spoken to me, and sometimes it came into my head -that sure my master was some extraordinary man, and he knew all things -that ever I had done in my life.</p> - -<p>But I was surprised to the last degree when my master, dismissing -all the rest of us servants, pointed at me, and speaking to his -head-clerk, “Here,” says he, “bring that young fellow hither to me.”</p> - -<p>I had been near a year in the work, and I had plied it so well that -the clerk, or headman, either flattered me or did really believe that -I behaved very well. But I was terribly frighted to hear myself called -out aloud, just as they used to call for such as had done some -misdemeanour, and were to be lashed or otherwise corrected.</p> - -<p>I came in like a malefactor indeed, and thought I looked like one just -taken in the fact and carried before the justice; and indeed when I -came in, for I was carried into an inner room or parlour in the house -to him (his discourse to the rest was in a large hall, where he sat in -a seat like a lord judge upon the bench, or a petty king upon his -throne); when I came in, I say, he ordered his man to withdraw, and I -standing half naked and bare-headed, with my haugh, or hoe, in my hand -(the posture and figure I was in at my work), near the door, he bade -me lay down my hoe and come nearer. Then he began to look a little -less stern and terrible than I fancied him to look before, or, -perhaps, both his countenance then and before might be to my -imagination differing from what they really were; for we do not always -judge those things by the real temper of the person, but by the -measure of our apprehensions.</p> - -<p>“Hark ye, young man, how old are you?” says my master; and so our -dialogue began.</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. Indeed, sir, I do not know.</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. What is your name?</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. They call me Colonel<a name="div4Ref_04" href="#div4_04"><sup>[4]</sup></a> -here, but my name is Jacque, an’t please your worship.</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. But prithee, what is thy name?</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. Jacque.</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. What! is thy Christian name, then, Colonel, and thy surname -Jacque?</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. Truly, sir, to tell your honour the truth, I know little or -nothing of myself,<a name="div4Ref_05" href="#div4_05"><sup>[5]</sup></a> nor -what my true name is; but thus I have been -called ever since I remember. Which is my Christian name, or which my -surname, or whether I was ever christened or not, I cannot tell.</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. Well, however, that’s honestly answered. Pray, how came you -hither, and on what account are you made a servant here?</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. I wish your honour could have patience with me to hear the -whole story; it is the hardest and most unjust thing that ever came -before you.</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. Say you so? Tell it me at large, then. I’ll hear it, I promise -that, if it be an hour long.</p> - -<p>This encouraged me, and I began at being a soldier, and being -persuaded to desert at Dunbar, and gave him all the particulars, as -they are related above, to the time of my coming on shore and the -captain talking to me about my bill after I arrived here. He held up -his hands several times as I went on, expressing his abhorrence of the -usage I had met with at Newcastle, and inquired the name of the master -of the ship; “for,” said he, “that captain, for all his smooth words, -must be a rogue.” So I told him his name, and the name of the ship, -and he took it down in his book, and then he went on.</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. But pray answer me, honestly too, to another question: What -was it made you so much concerned at my talking to the boy there, the -pickpocket?</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. An’t please your honour, it moved me to hear you talk so -kindly to a poor slave.</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. And was that all? Speak truly now.</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. No, indeed; but a secret wish came into my thoughts, that -you, that were so good to such a creature as that, could but one way -or other know my case, and that if you did, you would certainly pity -me, and do something for me.</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. Well, but was there nothing in his case that hit your own, -that made you so affected with it; for I saw tears come from your eyes -and it was that made me call to speak to you?</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. Indeed, sir, I have been a wicked, idle boy, and was left -desolate in the world; but that boy is a thief, and condemned to be -hanged. I never was before a court of justice in my life.</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. Well, I won’t examine you too far. If you were never before a -court of justice, and are not a criminal transported, I have nothing -further to inquire of you. You have been ill used, that’s certain; and -was it that that affected you?</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. Yes, indeed, please your honour. (We all called him his -honour, or his worship.)</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. Well, now I do know your case, what can I do for you? You -speak of a bill of £94 of which you would have given the captain £40 -for your liberty; have you that bill in your keeping still?</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. Yes, sir; here it is.</p> - -<p>I pulled it out of the waistband of my drawers, where I always found -means to preserve it, wrapped up in a piece of paper, and pinned to -the waistband, and yet almost worn out, too, with often pinning and -removing. So I gave it to him to read, and he read it.</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. And is this gentleman in being that gave you the bill?</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. Yes, sir; he was alive and in good health when I came from -London, which you may see by the date of the bill, for I came away the -next day.</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. I do not wonder that the captain of the ship was willing to -get this bill of you when you came on shore here.</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. I would have given it into his possession if he would have -carried me and my brother back again to England, and have taken what -he asked for us out of it.</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. Ay; but he knew better than that, too. He knew, if he had any -friends there, they would call him to an account for what he had done. -But I wonder he did not take it from you while you were at sea, either -by fraud or by force.</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. He did not attempt that indeed.</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. Well, young man, I have a mind to try if I can do you any -service in this case. On my word, if the money can be paid, and you -can get it safe over, I might put you in a way how to be a better man -than your master, if you will be honest and diligent.</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. As I have behaved myself in your service, sir, you will, I -hope, judge of the rest.</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. But perhaps you hanker after returning to England?</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. No, indeed, sir; if I can but get my bread honestly here, I -have no mind to go to England; for I know not how to get my bread -there. If I had, I had not ’listed for a soldier.</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. Well, but I must ask you some questions about that part -hereafter; for ’tis indeed something strange that you should list for -a soldier when you had £94 in your pocket.</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. I shall give your worship as particular account of that as I -have of the other part of my life, if you please; but ’tis very long.</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. Well, we will have that another time. But to the case in hand. -Are you willing I should send to anybody at London to talk with that -gentleman that gave you the bill; not to take the money of him, but to -ask him only whether he has so much money of yours in his hands, and -whether he will part with it when you shall give order, and send the -bill, or a duplicate of it; that is (says he) the copy? (And it was -well he did say so, for I did not understand the word duplicate at -all.)</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. Yes, sir; I will give you the bill itself, if you please. I -can trust it with you, though I could not with him.</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. No, no, young man, I won’t take it from you.</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. I wish your worship would please to keep it for me, for if I -should lose it, then I am quite undone.</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. I will keep it for you, Jacque, if you will; but then you -shall have a note under my hand, signifying that I have it, and will -return it you upon demand, which will be as safe to you as the bill. I -won’t take it else.</p> - -<p>So I gave my master the bill, and he gave me his note for it; and he -was a faithful steward for me, as you will hear in its place. After -this conference I was dismissed, and went to my work; but about two -hours after, the steward, or the overseer of the plantation, came -riding by, and coming up to me as I was at work, pulled a bottle out -of his pocket, and calling me to him, gave me a dram of rum. When, in -good manners, I had taken but a little sup, he held it out to me -again, and bade me take another, and spoke wondrous civilly to me, -quite otherwise than he used to do.</p> - -<p>This encouraged me and heartened me very much, but yet I had no -particular view of anything, or which way I should have any relief.</p> - -<p>A day or two after, when we were all going out to our work in the -morning, the overseer called me to him again, and gave me a dram and a -good piece of bread, and bade me come off from my work about one -o’clock, and come to him to the house, for he must speak with me.</p> - -<p>When I came to him, I came, to be sure, in the ordinary habit of a -poor half-naked slave. “Come hither, young man,” says he, “and give me -your hoe.” When I gave it him, “Well,” says he, “you are to work no -more in this plantation.”</p> - -<p>I looked surprised, and as if I was frighted. “What have I done, sir?” -said I; “and whither am I to be sent away?”</p> - -<p>“Nay, nay,” says he, and looked very pleasantly, “do not be frighted; -’tis for your good; ’tis not to hurt you. I am ordered to make an -overseer of you, and you shall be a slave no longer.”</p> - -<p>“Alas!” says I to him, “I an overseer! I am in no condition for it. I -have no clothes to put on, no linen, nothing to help myself.”</p> - -<p>“Well, well,” says he, “you may be better used than you are aware of. -Come hither with me.” So he led me into a vast, great warehouse, or, -rather, set of warehouses, one within another, and calling the -warehouse-keeper, “Here,” says he, “you must clothe this man, and give -him everything necessary, upon the foot of number five, and give the -bill to me. Our master has ordered me to allow it in the account of -the west plantation.” That was, it seems, the plantation where I was -to go.</p> - -<p>Accordingly, the warehouse-keeper carried me into an inner warehouse, -where were several suits of clothes of the sort his orders mentioned, -which were plain but good sorts of clothes, ready made, being of a -good broadcloth, about 11s. a yard in England; and with this he gave -me three good shirts, two pair of shoes, stockings, and gloves, a hat, -six neckcloths, and, in short, everything I could want; and when he -had looked everything out, and fitted them, he lets me into a little -room by itself. “Here,” says he; “go in there a slave, and come out a -gentleman;” and with that carried everything into the room, and, -shutting the door, bid me put them on, which I did most willingly; and -now you may believe that I began to hope for something better than -ordinary.</p> - -<p>In a little while after this came the overseer, and gave me joy of my -new clothes, and told me I must go with him. So I was carried to -another plantation, larger than that where I worked before, and where -there were two overseers or clerks; one within doors, and one without. -This last was removed to another plantation, and I was placed there in -his room (that is to say, as the clerk without doors), and my business -was to look after the servants and negroes, and take care that they -did their business, provide their food, and, in short, both govern and -direct them.</p> - -<p>I was elevated to the highest degree in my thoughts at this -advancement, and it is impossible for me to express the joy of my mind -upon this occasion; but there came a difficulty upon me, that shocked -me so violently and went so against my very nature that I really had -almost forfeited my place about it, and, in all appearance, the favour -of our master, who had been so generous to me; and this was, that when -I entered upon my office, I had a horse given me and a long horsewhip, -like what we call in England a hunting-whip. The horse was to ride up -and down all over the plantation, to see the servants and negroes did -their work; and, the plantation being so large, it could not be done -on foot, at least so often and so effectively as was required; and the -horsewhip was given me to correct and lash the slaves and servants -when they proved negligent or quarrelsome, or, in short, were guilty -of any offence. This part turned the very blood within my veins, and I -could not think of it with any temper, that I, who was but yesterday a -servant or slave like them, and under the authority of the same lash, -should lift up my hand to the cruel work which was my terror but the -day before. This, I say, I could not do; insomuch that the negroes -perceived it, and I had soon so much contempt upon my authority that -we were all in disorder.</p> - -<p>The ingratitude of their return for the compassion I showed them -provoked me, I confess, and a little hardened my heart; and I began -with the negroes, two of whom I was obliged to correct; and I thought -I did it most cruelly; but after I had lashed them till every blow I -struck them hurt myself and I was ready to faint at the work, the -rogues laughed at me, and one of them had the impudence to say, behind -my back, that, if he had the whipping of me, he would show me better -how to whip a negro.</p> - -<p>Well, however, I had no power to do it in such a barbarous manner as I -found it was necessary to have it done; and the defect began to be a -detriment to our master’s business. And now I began indeed to see that -the cruelty so much talked of, used in Virginia and Barbados, and -other colonies, in whipping the negro slaves, was not so much owing to -the tyranny and passion and cruelty of the English, as had been -reported, the English not being accounted to be of a cruel -disposition, and really are not so; but that it is owing to the -brutality and obstinate temper of the negroes, who cannot be managed -by kindness and courtesy, but must be ruled with a rod of iron, beaten -with scorpions, as the Scripture calls it, and must be used as they do -use them, or they would rise and murder all their masters; which, -their numbers considered, would not be hard for them to do, if they -had arms and ammunition suitable to the rage and cruelty of their -nature.</p> - -<p>But I began to see at the same time that this brutal temper of the -negroes was not rightly managed; that they did not take the best -course with them to make them sensible, either of mercy or punishment; -and it was evident to me that even the worst of those tempers might be -brought to a compliance without the lash, or at least without so much -of it as they generally inflicted.</p> - -<p>Our master was really a man of humanity himself, and was sometimes so -full of tenderness that he would forbid the severities of his -overseers and stewards; but he saw the necessity of it, and was -obliged at last to leave it to the discretion of his upper servants. -Yet he would often bid them be merciful, and bid them consider the -difference of the constitution of the bodies of the negroes, some -being less able to bear the tortures of their punishment than others, -and some of them less obstinate, too, than others.</p> - -<p>However, somebody was so officious as to inform him against me upon -this occasion, and let him know that I neglected his affairs, and that -the servants were under no government; by which means his plantation -was not duly managed, and that all things were in disorder.</p> - -<p>This was a heavy charge for a young overseer, and his honour came like -a judge, with all his attendants, to look into things and hear the -cause. However, he was so just to me as that, before he censured me, -he resolved to hear me fully, and that not only publicly, but in -private too. And the last part of this was my particular good fortune; -for, as he had formerly allowed me to speak to him with freedom, so I -had the like freedom now, and had full liberty to explain and defend -myself.</p> - -<p>I knew nothing of the complaint against me till I had it from his own -mouth, nor anything of his coming till I saw him in the very -plantation, viewing his work, and viewing the several pieces of ground -that were ordered to be new planted; and after he had rode all round, -and seen things in the condition which they were to be seen in, how -every thing was in its due order, and the servants and negroes were -all at work, and everything appearing to his mind, he went into the -house.</p> - -<p>As I saw him come up the walks I ran towards him and made my homage, -and gave him my humble thanks for the goodness he had showed me in -taking me from the miserable condition I was in before, and employing -and entrusting me in his business; and he looked pleasant enough, -though he did not say much at first; and I attended him through the -whole plantation, gave him an account of everything as we went along, -answered all his objections and inquiries everywhere in such a manner -as it seems he did not expect; and, as he acknowledged afterwards, -everything was very much to his satisfaction.</p> - -<p>There was an overseer, as I observed, belonging to the same -plantation, who was, though not over me, yet in a work superior to -mine; for his business was to see the tobacco packed up and deliver it -either on board the sloops or otherwise, as our master ordered, and to -receive English goods from the grand warehouse, which was at the other -plantation, because that was nearest the water-side; and, in short, to -keep the accounts.</p> - -<p>This overseer, an honest and upright man, made no complaint to him of -his business being neglected, as above, or of anything like it, though -he inquired of him about it, and that very strictly, too.</p> - -<p>I should have said, that as he rid over the plantation, he came in his -round to the place where the servants were usually corrected when they -had done any fault; and there stood two negroes, with their hands tied -behind them, as it were under sentence; and when he came near them -they fell on their knees and made pitiful signs to him for mercy. -“Alas! alas!” says he, turning to me, “why did you bring me this way? -I do not love such sights. What must I do now? I must pardon them; -prithee, what have they done?” I told him the particular offences -which they were brought to the place for. One had stole a bottle of -rum, and had made himself drunk with it, and, when he was drunk, had -done a great many mad things, and had attempted to knock one of the -white servants’ brains out with a handspike, but that the white man -had avoided the blow, and, striking up the negro’s heels, had seized -him and brought him prisoner thither, where he had lain all night; and -that I had told him he was to be whipped that day, and the next three -days, twice every day.</p> - -<p>“And could you be so cruel?” says his honour. “Why, you would kill the -poor wretch; and so, beside the blood which you would have to answer -for, you would lose me a lusty man negro, which cost me at least £30 -or £40, and bring a reproach upon my whole plantation. Nay, and more -than that, some of them in revenge would murder me, if ever it was in -their power.”</p> - -<p>“Sir,” says I, “if those fellows are not kept under by violence, I -believe you are satisfied nothing is to be done with them; and it is -reported in your works that I have been rather their jest than their -terror, for want of using them as they deserve; and I was resolved, -how much soever it is against my own disposition, that your service -should not suffer for my unseasonable forbearance; and therefore, if I -had scourged him to death——” “Hold,” says he; “no, no, by no means -any such severity in my bounds. Remember, young man; you were once a -servant. Deal as you would acknowledge it would be just to deal with -you in his case, and mingle always some mercy. I desire it, and let -the consequence of being too gentle be placed to my account.”</p> - -<p>This was as much as I could desire, and the more because what passed -was in public, and several, both negroes and white servants, as well -as the particular persons who had accused me, heard it all, though I -did not know it. “A cruel dog of an overseer,” says one of the white -servants behind; “he would have whipped poor bullet-head”—so they -called the negro that was to be punished—“to death if his honour had -not happened to come to-day.”</p> - -<p>However, I urged the notorious crime this fellow was guilty of, and -the danger there was in such forbearance, from the refractory and -incorrigible temper of the negroes, and pressed a little the necessity -of making examples. But he said, “Well, well, do it the next time, but -not now;” so I said no more.</p> - -<p>The other fellow’s crime was trifling compared with this; and the -master went forward, talking of it to me, and I following him, till we -came to the house; when, after he had been sat down a while, he called -me to him, and, not suffering my accusers to come near till he had -heard my defence, he began with me thus:—</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. Hark ye, young man, I must have some discourse with you. Your -conduct is complained of since I set you over this plantation. I -thought your sense of the obligation I had laid on you would have -secured your diligence and faithfulness to me.</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. I am very sorry any complaint should be made of me, because -the obligation I am under to your honour (and which I freely confess) -does bind me to your interest in the strongest manner imaginable; and, -however I may have mistaken my business, I am sure I have not -willingly neglected it.</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. Well, I shall not condemn you without hearing you, and -therefore I called you in now to tell you of it.</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. I humbly thank your honour. I have but one petition more, -and that is, that I may know my accusation; and, if you please, my -accusers.</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. The first you shall, and that is the reason of my talking to -you in private; and if there is any need of a further hearing, you -shall know your accusers too. What you are charged with is just -contrary to what appeared to me just now, and therefore you and I must -come to a new understanding about it, for I thought I was too cunning -for you, and now I think you have been too cunning for me.</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. I hope your honour will not be offended that I do not fully -understand you.</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. I believe you do not. Come, tell me honestly, did you really -intend to whip the poor negro twice a day for four days together; that -is to say, to whip him to death, for that would have been the English -of it, and the end of it?</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. If I may be permitted to guess, sir, I believe I know the -charge that is brought against me, and that your honour has been told -that I have been too gentle with the negroes, as well as other -servants; and that when they deserved to be used with the accustomed -severity of the country, I have not given them half enough; and that -by this means they are careless of your business, and that your -plantation is not well looked after, and the like.</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. Well, you guess right. Go on.</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. The first part of the charge I confess, but the last I deny, -and appeal to your honour’s strictest examination into every part of -it.</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. If the last part could be true, I would be glad the first -were; for it would be an infinite satisfaction to me that, my business -not being neglected, nor our safety endangered, those poor wretches -could be used with more humanity; for cruelty is the aversion of my -nature, and it is the only uncomfortable thing that attends me in all -my prosperity.</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. I freely acknowledge, sir, that at first it was impossible -for me to bring myself to that terrible work. How could I, that was -but just come out of the terror of it myself, and had but the day -before been a poor naked, miserable servant myself, and might be -to-morrow reduced to the same condition again; how could I use this -terrible weapon<a name="div4Ref_06" href="#div4_06"><sup>[6]</sup></a> on the -naked flesh of my fellow-servants, as well -as fellow-creatures? At least, sir, when my duty made it absolutely -necessary, I could not do it without the utmost horror. I beseech you, -pardon me if I have such a tenderness in my nature, that though I -might be fit to be your servant, I am incapable of being an -executioner, having been an offender myself.</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. Well, but how, then, can my business be done? And how will -this terrible obstinacy of the negroes, who, they tell me, can be no -otherwise governed, be kept from neglect of their work, or even -insolence and rebellion?</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. This brings me, sir, to the latter part of my defence; and -here I hope your honour will be pleased to call my accusers, or that -you will give yourself the trouble of taking the exactest view of your -plantation, and see, or let them show you, if anything is neglected, -if your business has suffered in anything, or if your negroes or other -servants are under less government than they were before; and if, on -the contrary, I have found out that happy secret, to have good order -kept, the business of the plantation done, and that with diligence and -despatch, and that the negroes are kept in awe, the natural temper of -them subjected, and the safety and peace of your family secured, as -well by gentle means as by rough, by moderate correction as by torture -and barbarity, by a due awe of just discipline as by the horror of -unsufferable torments, I hope your honour will not lay that sin to my -charge.</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. No, indeed; you would be the most acceptable manager that ever -I employed. But how, then, does this consist with the cruel sentence -you had passed on the poor fellow that is in your condemned hole -yonder, who was to be whipped eight times in four days?</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. Very well, sir. First, sir, he remains under the terrible -apprehensions of a punishment so severe as no negro ever had before. -This fellow, with your leave, I intended to release to-morrow without -any whipping at all, after talking to him in my way about his offence, -and raising in his mind a sense of the value of pardon. And if this -makes him a better servant than the severest whipping will do, then, I -presume, you would allow I have gained a point.</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. Ay; but what if it should not be so? For these fellows have no -sense of gratitude.</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. That is, sir, because they are never pardoned. If they -offend, they never know what mercy is; and what, then, have they to be -grateful for?</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. Thou art in the right indeed. Where there is no mercy showed, -there is no obligation laid upon them.</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. Besides, sir, if they have at any time been let go, which is -very seldom, they are not told what the case is. They take no pains -with them to imprint principles of gratitude on their minds, to tell -them what kindness is shown them, and what they are indebted for it, -and what they might gain in the end by it.</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. But do you think such usage would do? Would it make any -impression? You persuade yourself it would, but you see ’tis against -the received notion of the whole country.</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. There are, it may be, public and national mistakes and -errors in conduct, and this is one.</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. Have you tried it? You cannot say it is a mistake till you -have tried and proved it to be so.</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. Your whole plantation is a proof of it. This very fellow had -never acted as he did if he had not gotten rum in his head, and been -out of the government of himself; so that, indeed, all the offence I -ought to have punished him for had been that of stealing a bottle of -rum and drinking it all up; in which case, like Noah, he did not know -the strength of it, and when he had it in his head he was a madman, he -was as one raging and distracted; so that, for all the rest, he -deserved pity rather than punishment.</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. Thou art right, certainly right, and thou wilt be a rare -fellow if thou canst bring these notions into practice. I wish you had -tried it upon any one particular negro, that I might see an example. I -would give £500 if it could be brought to bear.</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. I desire nothing, sir, but your favour, and the advantage of -obliging you. I will show you an example of it among your own negroes, -and all the plantation will acknowledge it.</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. You make my very heart glad within me, Jacque. If you can -bring this to pass, I here give you my word I’ll not only give you -your own freedom, but make a man of you for this world as long as you -live.</p> - -<p>Upon this I bowed to him very respectfully, and told him the following -story:—‘There is a negro, sir, in your plantation who has been your -servant several years before I came. He did a fault that was of no -great consequence in itself, but perhaps would have been worse if they -had indeed gone further; and I had him brought into the usual place, -and tied him by the thumbs for correction, and he was told that he -should be whipped and pickled in a dreadful manner. After I had made -proper impressions on his mind of the terror of his punishment, and -found that he was sufficiently humbled by it, I went into the house, -and caused him to be brought out, just as they do when they go to -correct the negroes on such occasions. When he was stripped and tied -up he had two lashes given him, that was indeed very cruel ones, and I -called to them to hold. ‘Hold!’ said I to the two men that had just -began to lay on upon the poor fellow: ‘Hold!’ said I, ‘let me talk -with him.’</p> - -<p>“So he was taken down. Then I began and represented to him how kind -you, that were his great master,<a name="div4Ref_07" href="#div4_07"><sup>[7]</sup></a> -had been to him; that you had -never done him any harm; that you had used him gently, and he had -never been brought to this punishment in so many years, though he had -done some faults before; that this was a notorious offence, for he had -stolen some rum, and made himself and two other negroes drunk-mad;<a name="div4Ref_08" href="#div4_08"><sup>[8]</sup></a> -and had abused two women negroes, who had husbands in our master’s -service, but in another plantation; and played several pranks, and for -this I had appointed him this punishment.</p> - -<p>“He shook his head, and made signs that he was <i>muchee sorree</i>, as he -called it. ‘And what will you say or do,’ said I, ‘if I should prevail -with the great master to pardon you? I have a mind to go and see if I -can beg for you.’ He told me he would lie down, let me kill him. ‘Me -will,’ says he, ‘run, go, fetch, bring for you as long as me live.’ -This was the opportunity I had a mind to have, to try whether, as -negroes have all the other faculties of reasonable creatures, they had -not also some sense of kindness, some principles of natural -generosity, which, in short, is the foundation of gratitude; for -gratitude is the product of generous principles.”</p> - -<p>“You please me with the beginning of this story,” says he; “I hope you -have carried it on.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, sir,” says I; “it has been carried on further perhaps than you -imagine, or will think has been possible in such a case.</p> - -<p>“But I was not so arrogant as to assume the merit to myself. ‘No, no,’ -said I, ‘I do not ask you to go or run for me; you must do all that -for our great master, for it will be from him entirely that you will -be pardoned at all, for your offence is against him; and what will you -say? Will you be grateful to him, and run, go, fetch, bring, for him, -as long as you live, as you have said you would for me?’</p> - -<p>“’Yes, indeed,’ says he, ‘and muchee do, muchee do, for you too’ (he -would not leave me out); ‘you ask him for me.’</p> - -<p>“Well, I put off all his promised gratitude to me from myself, as was -my duty, and placed it to your account; told him I knew you was muchee -good, muchee pitiful, and I would persuade you if I could; and so told -him I would go to you, and he should be whipped no more till I came -again; but, ‘Hark ye, Mouchat,’ says I (that was the negro’s name), -’they tell me, when I came hither, that there is no showing kindness -to any of you negroes; that when we spare you from whipping you laugh -at us, and are the worse.’</p> - -<p>“He looked very serious at me, and said, ‘Oh, that not so; the masters -say so, but no be so, no be so, indeede, indeede,’ and so we parleyed.”</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. Why do they say so, then? To be sure they have tried you -all.</p> - -<p><i>Negro</i>. No, no, they no try; they say so, but no try.</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. I hear them all say so.</p> - -<p><i>Negro</i>. Me tell you the true; they have no mercie; they beat us -cruel, all cruel; they never have show mercie. How can they tell we be -no better?</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. What! do they never spare?</p> - -<p><i>Negro</i>. Master, me speakee the true; they never give mercie; they -always whippee, lashee, knockee down, all cruel. Negro be muchee -better man, do muchee better work, but they tell us no mercie.</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. But what, do they never show any mercy?</p> - -<p><i>Negro</i>. No, never; no, never; all whippee; all whippee, cruel, worse -than they whippee de horse, whippee de dog.</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. But would they be better if they did?</p> - -<p><i>Negro</i>. Yes, yes; negro be muchee better if they be mercie. When they -be whippee, whippee, negro muchee cry, muchee hate; would kill if they -had de gun. But when they makee de mercie, then negro tell de great -tankee, and love to worke, and do muchee worke; and because he good -master to them.</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. They say no; you would laugh at them and mock when they show -mercy.</p> - -<p><i>Negro</i>. How they say when they show mercie? They never show mercie; -me never see them show one mercie since me live.</p> - -<p>“Now, sir,” said I, “if this be so, really they go, I dare say, -contrary to your inclination, for I see you are but too full of pity -for the miserable. I saw it in my own case; and upon a presumption -that you had rather have your work done from a principle of love than -fear, without making your servants bleed for every trifle, if it were -possible; I say, upon this presumption I dealt with this Mouchat, as -you shall hear.”</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. I have never met with anything of this kind since I have been -a planter, which is now about forty years. I am delighted with the -story. Go on; I expect a pleasant conclusion.</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. The conclusion, sir, will be, I believe, as much to your -satisfaction as the beginning; for it every way answered my -expectation, and will yours also, and show you how you might be -faithfully served if you pleased, for ’tis certain you are not so -served now.</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. No, indeed; they serve me but just as they do the devil, for -fear I should hurt them. But ’tis contrary to an ingenuous spirit to -delight in such service. I abhor it, if I could but know how to get -any other.</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. It is easy, sir, to show you that you may be served upon -better principles, and consequently be better served, and more to your -satisfaction; and I dare undertake to convince you of it.</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. Well, go on with the story.</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. After I had talked thus to him I said, “Well, Mouchat, I -shall see how you will be afterwards, if I can get our great master to -be merciful to you at this time.”</p> - -<p><i>Negro</i>. Yes, you shall see; you muchee see, muchee see.</p> - -<p>“Upon this I called for my horse and went from him, and made as if I -rode away to you, who they told me was in the next plantation; and -having stayed four or five hours, I came back and talked to him again, -told him that I had waited on you, and that you had heard of his -offence, was highly provoked, and had resolved to cause him to be -severely punished for an example to all the negroes in the plantation; -but that I had told you how penitent he was, and how good he would be -if you would pardon him; and had at last prevailed on you. That you -had told me what all people said of the negroes; how, that to show -them mercy was to make them think you were never in earnest with them, -and that you did but trifle and play with them. However, that I had -told you what he had said of himself, and that it was not true of the -negroes, and that the white men said it, but that they could not know -because they did never show any mercy, and therefore had never tried; -that I had persuaded you to show mercy, to try whether kindness would -prevail as much as cruelty. ‘And now, Mouchat,’ said I, ‘you will be -let go. Pray let our great master see that I have said true.’ So I -ordered him to be untied, gave him a dram of rum out of my -pocket-bottle, and ordered them to give him some victuals.</p> - -<p>“When the fellow was let loose, he came to me and kneeled down to me, -and took hold of my legs and of my feet, and laid his head upon the -ground, and sobbed and cried like a child that had been corrected, but -could not speak for his life; and thus he continued a long time. I -would have taken him up, but he would not rise; but I cried as fast as -he, for I could not bear to see a poor wretch lie on the ground to me, -that was but a servant the other day like himself. At last, but not -till a quarter of an hour, I made him get up, and then he spoke. ‘Me -muchee know good great master, muchee good you master. No negro -unthankful; me die for them, do me so muchee kind.’</p> - -<p>“I dismissed him then, and bid him go to his wife (for he was -married), and not work that afternoon; but as he was going away I -called him again, and talked thus to him.</p> - -<p>“’Now, Mouchat,’ says I, ‘you see the white men can show mercy. Now -you must tell all the negroes what has been reported of them; that -they regard nothing but the whip; that if they are used gently they -are the worse, not the better; and that this is the reason why the -white men show them no mercy; and convince them that they would be -much better treated and used kindlier if they would show themselves as -grateful for kind usage as humble after torment; and see if you can -work on them.’</p> - -<p>“’Me go, me go,’ says he; ‘me muchee talk to them. They be muchee glad -as me be, and do great work to be used kind by de great master.’”</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. Well, but now what testimony have you of this gratitude you -speak of? Have you seen any alteration among them?</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. I come next to that part, sir. About a month after this I -caused a report to be spread abroad in the plantation that I had -offended you, the great master, and that I was turned out of the -plantation, and was to be hanged. Your honour knows that some time ago -you sent me upon your particular business into Potuxent River, where I -was absent twelve days; then I took the opportunity to have this -report spread about among the negroes, to see how it would work.</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. What! to see how Mouchat would take it?</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. Yes, sir; and it made a discovery indeed. The poor fellow -did not believe it presently, but finding I was still absent, he went -to the head-clerk, and standing at his door, said nothing, but looked -like a fool of ten years old. After some time the upper overseer came -out, and seeing him stand there, at first said nothing, supposing he -had been sent of some errand; but observing him to stand stock-still, -and that he was in the same posture and place during the time that he -had passed and repassed two or three times, he stops short the last -time of his coming by. “What do you want,” says he to him, “that you -stand idle here so long?”</p> - -<p>“’Me speakee; me tell something,’ says he.</p> - -<p>“Then the overseer thought some discovery was at hand, and began to -listen to him. ‘What would you tell me?’ says he.</p> - -<p>“’Me tell! Pray,’ says he, ‘where be de other master?’</p> - -<p>“He meant he would ask where he was. ‘What other master do you mean?’ -says the clerk. ‘What! do you want to speak with the great master? He -can’t be spoke with by you. Pray what is your business? Cannot you -tell it to me?’</p> - -<p>“’No, no; me no speakee the great master—the other master,’ says -Mouchat.”</p> - -<p>“’What! the colonel?’ says the clerk.</p> - -<p>“’Yes, yes; the colonel,’ says he.</p> - -<p>“’Why, don’t you know that he is to be hanged to-morrow,’ says the -clerk, ‘for making the great master angry?’<a name="div4Ref_09" href="#div4_09"><sup>[9]</sup></a></p> - -<p>“’Yes, yes,’ says Mouchat; ‘me know, me know; but me want speak; me -tell something.’</p> - -<p>“’Well, what would you say?’ says the clerk.</p> - -<p>“’Oh! me no let him makee de great master angry.’ With that he kneeled -down to the clerk.</p> - -<p>“’What ails you?’ says the clerk. ‘I tell you he must be hanged.’</p> - -<p>“’No, no,’ says he; ‘no hang de master. Me kneel for him to great -master.’</p> - -<p>“’You kneel for him!’ says the clerk.<a name="div4Ref_10" href="#div4_10"><sup>[10]</sup></a> -’What! do you think the -great master will mind you? He has made the great master angry, and -must be hanged, I tell you. What signifies your begging?’</p> - -<p>“<i>Negro</i>. Oh! me pray, me pray the great master for him.</p> - -<p>“<i>Clerk</i>. Why, what ails you that you would pray for him?</p> - -<p>“<i>Negro</i>. Oh! he beggee the great master for me; now me beggee for -him. The great master muchee good, muchee good; he pardon me when the -other master beggee me; now he pardon him when me beggee for him -again.</p> - -<p>“<i>Clerk</i>. No, no; your begging won’t do. Will you be hanged for him? -If you do that, something may be.</p> - -<p>“<i>Negro</i>. Yes, yes; me be hang for de poor master that beggee for me. -Mouchat shall hang; the great master shall hangee me, whippee me; -anything to save the poor master that beggee me; yes, yes, indeed.</p> - -<p>“<i>Clerk</i>. Are you in earnest, Mouchat?</p> - -<p>“<i>Negro</i>. Yes, indeed; me tellee de true. The great master shall know -me tellee de true, for he shall see the white man hangee me, Mouchat. -Poor negro Mouchat will be hangee, be whippee, anything for the poor -master that beggee for me.</p> - -<p>“With this the poor fellow cried most pitifully, and there was no room -to question his being in earnest; when on a sudden I appeared, for I -was fetched to see all this transaction. I was not in the house at -first, but was just come home from the business you sent me of, and -heard it all; and indeed neither the clerk or I could bear it any -longer, so he came out to me. ‘Go to him,’ says he; ‘you have made an -example that will never be forgot, that a negro can be grateful. Go to -him,’ adds he, ‘for I can talk to him no longer.’ So I appeared, and -spoke to him presently, and let him see that I was at liberty; but to -hear how the poor fellow behaved your honour cannot but be pleased.”</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. Prithee go on. I am pleased with it all; ’tis all a new scene -of negro life to me, and very moving.</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. For a good while he stood as if he had been thunderstruck -and stupid; but, looking steadily at me, though not speaking a word, -at last he mutters to himself, with a kind of laugh, “Ay, ay,” says -he, “Mouchat see, Mouchat no see; me wakee, me no wakee; no hangee, no -hangee; he live truly, very live;” and then on a sudden he runs to me, -snatches me away as if I had been a boy of ten years old, and takes me -up upon his back and runs away with me, till I was fain to cry out to -him to stop. Then he sets me down, and looks at me again, then falls -a-dancing about me as if he had been bewitched, just as you have seen -them do about their wives and children when they are merry.</p> - -<p>“Well, then, he began to talk with me, and told me what they had said -to him, how I was to be hanged. ‘Well,’ says I, ‘Mouchat, and would -you have been satisfied to be hanged to save me?’ ‘Yes, yes,’ says he; -’be truly hangee, to beggee you.’</p> - -<p>“’But why do you love me so well, Mouchat?’ said I.</p> - -<p>“’Did you no beggee me,’ he says, ‘at the great master? You savee me, -make great master muchee good, muchee kind, no whippee me; me no -forget; me be whipped, be hanged, that you no be hanged; me die, that -you no die; me no let any bad be with you all while that me live.’</p> - -<p>“Now, sir, your honour may judge whether kindness, well managed, would -not oblige these people as well as cruelty, and whether there are -principles of gratitude in them or no.”</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. But what, then, can be the reason that we never believed it to -be so before?</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. Truly, sir, I fear that Mouchat gave the true reason.</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. What was that, pray? That we were too cruel?</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. That they never had any mercy showed them; that we never -tried them whether they would be grateful or no; that if they did a -fault they were never spared, but punished with the utmost cruelty; so -that they had no passion, no affection, to act upon but that of fear, -which necessarily brought hatred with it; but that if they were used -with compassion they would serve with affection as well as other -servants. Nature is the same, and reason governs in just proportions -in all creatures; but having never been let taste what mercy is, they -know not how to act from a principle of love.</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. I am convinced it is so. But now, pray tell me, how did you -put this in practice with the poor negroes now in bonds yonder, when -you passed such a cruel sentence upon them that they should be whipped -twice a day, for four days together? Was that showing mercy?</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. My method was just the same; and if you please to inquire of -Mr.——, your other servant, you will be satisfied that it was so; for -we agreed upon the same measures as I took with Mouchat; namely, first -to put them into the utmost horror and apprehensions of the cruellest -punishment that they ever heard of, and thereby enhance the value of -their pardon, which was to come as from yourself, but not without our -great intercession. Then I was to argue with them, and work upon their -reason, to make the mercy that was showed them sink deep into their -minds and give lasting impressions; explain the meaning of gratitude -to them, and the nature of an obligation, and the like, as I had done -with Mouchat.</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. I am answered. Your method is certainly right, and I desire -you may go on with it; for I desire nothing on this side heaven more -than to have all my negroes serve me from principles of gratitude for -my kindness to them. I abhor to be feared like a lion, like a tyrant. -It is a violence upon nature every way, and is the most disagreeable -thing in the world to a generous mind.</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. But, sir, I am doubtful that you may not believe that I -intended to act thus with those poor fellows. I beseech you to send -for Mr.——, that he may tell you what we had agreed on before I speak -with him.</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. What reason have I to doubt that?</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. I hope you have not; but I should be very sorry you should -think me capable of executing such a sentence as you have heard me own -I had passed on them, and there can be no way effectually to clear it -up but this.</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. Well, seeing you put so much weight upon it, he shall be -called for.</p> - -<p>[He was called, and being ordered by the master to tell the measures -that were concerted between them for the punishment or management of -those negroes, he gave it just as Jacque had done before.]</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. I hope, sir, you are now not only satisfied of the truth of -the account I gave relating to the method we had agreed on, but of its -being so proper and so likely to answer your end.</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. I am fully satisfied, and shall be glad to see that it answers -the end; for, as I have said, nothing can be more agreeable to me. -Nothing has so much robbed me of the comfort of all my fortunes as the -cruelty used, in my name, on the bodies of those poor slaves.</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. It is certainly wrong, sir; it is not only wrong as it is -barbarous and cruel; but it is wrong, too, as it is the worst way of -managing and of having your business done.</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. It is my aversion; it fills my very soul with horror. I -believe if I should come by while they were using those cruelties on -the poor creatures, I should either sink down at the sight of it or -fly into a rage and kill the fellow that did it; though it is done, -too, by my own authority.</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. But, sir, I dare say I shall convince you also that it is -wrong in respect of interest, and that your business shall be better -discharged and your plantations better ordered, and more work done by -the negroes who shall be engaged by mercy and lenity than by those who -are driven and dragged by the whips and the chains of a merciless -tormentor.</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. I think the nature of the thing speaks itself. Doubtless it -should be so, and I have often thought it would be so, and a thousand -times wished it might be so; but all my English people pretend -otherwise, and that it is impossible to bring the negroes to any sense -of kindness, and consequently not to any obedience of love.</p> - -<p><i>Jacque</i>. It may be true, sir, that there may be found here and there -a negro of a senseless, stupid, sordid disposition, perfectly -untractable, undocible, and incapable of due impressions; especially -incapable of the generosity of principle which I am speaking of. You -know very well, sir, there are such among Christians as well as among -the negroes; whence else came the English proverb, That if you save a -thief from the gallows, he shall be the first to cut your throat. But, -sir, if such a refractory, undocible fellow comes in our way, he must -be dealt with, first by the smooth ways to try him, then by the -violent way to break his temper, as they break a horse; and if nothing -will do, such a wretch should be sold off, and others bought in his -room; for the peace of the plantation should not be broken for one -devilish-tempered fellow. And if this was done I doubt not you should -have all your plantations carried on and your work done, and not a -negro or a servant upon it but what would not only work for you, but -even die for you, if there was an occasion for it, as you see this -poor Mouchat would have done for me.</p> - -<p><i>Mast</i>. Well, go on with your measures, and may you succeed. I’ll -promise you I will fully make you amends for it. I long to have these -cruelties out of use, in my plantation especially. As for others, let -them do as they will.</p> - -<p>Our master being gone, I went to the prisoners, and first I suffered -them to be told that the great master had been there, and that he had -been inclined to pardon them, till he knew what their crime was; but -then he said it was so great a fault that it must be punished. -Besides, the man that talked to them told them that the great master -said that he knew if he had pardoned them they would be but the worse, -for that the negroes were never thankful for being spared, and that -there were no other ways to make them obedient but severity.</p> - -<p>One of the poor fellows, more sensible than the other, answered, if -any negro be badder for being kindly used, they should be whipped till -they were muchee better; but that he never knew that, for that he -never knew the negro be kindly use.</p> - -<p>This was the same thing as the other had said, and indeed was but too -true, for the overseers really knew no such thing as mercy; and that -notion of the negroes being no other way to be governed but by cruelty -had been the occasion that no other method was ever tried among them.</p> - -<p>Again, if a slack hand had at any time been held upon them, it had not -been done with discretion, or as a point of mercy, and managed with -the assistance of argument to convince the negroes of the nature and -reason of it, and to show them what they ought to do in return for it; -but it was perhaps the effect of negligence, ill conduct, and want of -application to the business of the plantation; and then it was no -wonder that the negroes took the advantage of it.</p> - -<p>Well, I carried on the affair with these two negroes just as I did -with Mouchat, so I need not repeat the particulars; and they were -delivered with infinite acknowledgments and thanks, even to all the -extravagances of joy usual in those people on such occasions. And such -was the gratitude of those two pardoned fellows that they were the -most faithful and most diligent servants ever after that belonged to -the whole plantation, Mouchat excepted.</p> - -<p>In this manner I carried on the plantation fully to his satisfaction; -and before a year more was expired there was scarce any such thing as -correction known in the plantation, except upon a few boys, who were -incapable of the impressions that good usage would have made, even -upon them too, till they had lived to know the difference.</p> - -<p>It was some time after this conference that our great master, as we -called him, sent for me again to his dwelling-house, and told me he -had had an answer from England from his friend, to whom he had written -about my bill. I was a little afraid that he was going to ask me leave -to send it to London; but he did not say anything like that, but told -me that his friend had been with the gentleman, and that he owned the -bill, and that he had all the money in his hand that the bill had -mentioned; but that he had promised the young man that had given him -the money (meaning me) not to pay the money to anybody but himself, -though they should bring the bill; the reason of which was, that I did -not know who might get the bill away from me.</p> - -<p>“But now, Colonel Jacque,” says he, “as you wrote him an account where -you was, and by what wicked arts you were trepanned, and that it was -impossible for you to have your liberty till you could get the money, -my friend at London has written to me, that, upon making out a due -copy of the bill here, attested by a notary and sent to him, and your -obligation likewise attested, whereby you oblige yourself to deliver -the original to his order after the money is paid, he will pay the -money.”</p> - -<p>I told him I was willing to do whatever his honour directed; and so -the proper copies were drawn as I had been told were required.</p> - -<p>“But now, what will you do with this money, Jacque?” says he, smiling. -“Will you buy your liberty of me, and go to planting?”</p> - -<p>I was too cunning for him now indeed, for I remembered what he had -promised me; and I had too much knowledge of the honesty of his -principles, as well as of the kindness he had for me, to doubt his -being as good as his word; so I turned all this talk of his upon him -another way. I knew that when he asked me if I would buy my liberty -and go to planting, it was to try if I would leave him; so I said, -“As to buying my liberty, sir—that is to say, going out of your -service—I had much rather buy more time in your service, and I am -only unhappy that I have but two years to serve.”</p> - -<p>“Come, come, colonel,” says he, “don’t flatter me; I love plain -dealing. Liberty is precious to everybody; if you have a mind to have -your money brought over, you shall have your liberty to begin for -yourself, and I will take care you shall be well used by the country, -and get you a good plantation.”</p> - -<p>I still insisted that I would not quit his service for the best -plantation in Maryland; that he had been so good to me, and I believed -I was so useful to him, that I could not think of it; and at last I -added I hoped he could not believe but I had as much gratitude as a -negro.</p> - -<p>He smiled, and said he would not be served upon those 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 pulls out a piece of paper, and throws it to me: -“There,” says he, “there’s a certificate of your coming 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.” 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 service. And now we strained courtesies, and he -told me I should be his servant still; but it should be on two -conditions: first, that he would give me £30 a year 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 upon my -own account, “For, Colonel Jacque,” says he, smiling, “though you are -but a young man, yet ’tis time you were doing something for yourself.”</p> - -<p>I answered that I could do little at a plantation for myself, unless I -neglected his business, which I was resolved not to do on any terms -whatever, but that I would serve him faithfully, if he would accept of -me, as long as he lived. “So you shall,” says he again, “and serve -yourself too.” And thus we parted for that time.</p> - -<p>Here I am to observe in the general, to avoid dwelling too long upon a -story, that as the two negroes who I delivered from punishment were -ever after the most diligent and laborious poor fellows in the whole -plantation as above, except Mouchat, of whom I shall speak more -by-and-by, so they not only were grateful themselves for their good -usage, but they influenced the whole plantation; so that the gentle -usage and lenity with which they had been treated had a thousand times -more influence upon them to make them diligent than all the blows and -kicks, whippings, and other tortures could have which they had been -used to. And now the plantation was famous for it; so that several -other planters began to do the same, though I cannot say it was with -the same success, which might be for want of taking pains with them -and working upon their passions in a right manner. It appeared that -negroes were to be reasoned into things as well as other people, and -it was by thus managing their reason that most of the work was done.</p> - -<p>However, as it was, the plantations in Maryland were the better for -this undertaking, and they are to this day less cruel and barbarous to -their negroes than they are in Barbados and Jamaica; and ’tis observed -the negroes are not in these colonies so desperate, neither do they so -often run away or so often plot mischief against their master, as they -do in those.</p> - -<p>I have dwelt the longer upon it that, if possible, posterity might be -persuaded to try gentler methods with those miserable creatures, and -to use them with humanity; assuring them that if they did so, adding -the common prudence that every particular case would direct them to -for itself, the negroes would do their work faithfully and cheerfully; -they would not find any of that refractoriness and sullenness in their -temper that they pretend now to complain of, but they would be the -same as their Christian servants, except that they would be the more -thankful, and humble, and laborious of the two.</p> - -<p>I continued in this station between five and six years after this, and -in all that time we had not one negro whipped, except, as I observed -before, now and then an unlucky boy, and that only for trifles. I -cannot say but we had some ill-natured, ungovernable negroes; but if -at any time such offended, they were pardoned the first time, in the -manner as above, and the second time were ordered to be turned out of -the plantation. And this was remarkable, that they would torment -themselves at the apprehension of being turned away, more by a great -deal than if they had been to be whipped, for then they were only -sullen and heavy. Nay, at length we found the fear of being turned out -of the plantation had as much effect to reform them—that is to say, -make them more diligent—than any torture would have done; and the -reason was evident, namely, because in our plantation they were used -like men, in the other like dogs.</p> - -<p>My master owned the satisfaction he took in this blessed change, as he -called it, as long as he lived; and as he was so engaged by seeing the -negroes grateful, he showed the same principle of gratitude to those -that served him as he looked for in those that he served, and -particularly to me; and so I come briefly to that part. The first -thing he did after giving me my liberty as above, and making me an -allowance, was to get the country bounty to me—that is to say, a -quantity of land to begin and plant for myself.</p> - -<p>But this he managed a way by himself, and, as I found afterwards, took -up, that is, purchased in my name, about three hundred acres of land, -in a more convenient place than it would have otherwise been allotted -me; and this he did by his interest with the lord proprietor; so that -I had an extent of ground marked out to me, not next but very near one -of his own plantations. When I made my acknowledgment for this to him, -he told me plainly that I was not beholden to him for it all; for he -did it that I might not be obliged to neglect his business for the -carrying on my own, and on that account he would not reckon to me what -money he paid, which, however, according to the custom of the country, -was not a very great sum—I think about £40 or £50.</p> - -<p>Thus he very generously gave me my liberty, advanced this money for -me, put me into a plantation for myself, and gave me £30 a year wages -for looking after one of his own plantations.</p> - -<p>“But, Colonel,” says he to me, “giving you this plantation is nothing -at all to you 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 to you -for the carrying it on; such as tools, provisions for servants, and -some servants to begin; materials to build outhouses, and -conveniences of all sorts for the plantation, and to buy hogs, cows, -horses for stock, and the like; and I’ll take it out of your cargo, -which will come from London, for the money of your bill.”</p> - -<p>This was highly obliging and very kind, and the more so, as it -afterwards appeared. In order to this he sent two servants of his own -who were carpenters. As for timber, boards, planks, and all sorts of -such things, in a country almost all made of wood they could not be -wanting. These run me up a little wooden house in less than three -weeks’ time, where I had three rooms, a kitchen, an outhouse, and -two large sheds at a distance from the house for store houses, almost -like barns, with stables at the end of them; and thus I was set up in -the world, and, in short, removed by the degrees that you have heard -from a pickpocket to a kidnapped, miserable slave in Virginia (for -Maryland is Virginia, speaking of them at a distance); then from a -slave to a head-officer or overseer of slaves, and from thence to a -master-planter.</p> - -<p>I had now, as above, a house, a stable, two warehouses, and three -hundred acres of land; but, as we say, bare walls make giddy hussies, -so I had neither axe nor hatchet to cut down the trees; horse, nor -hog, nor cow to put upon the land; not a hoe or a spade to break -ground, nor a pair of hands but my own to go to work upon.</p> - -<p>But Heaven and kind masters make up all those things to a diligent -servant; and I mention it because people who are either transported or -otherwise trepanned into those places are generally thought to be -rendered miserable and undone; whereas, on the contrary, I would -encourage them, upon my own experience, to depend upon it, that if -their own diligence in the time of service gains them but a good -character, which it will certainly do if they can deserve it, there is -not the poorest and most despicable felon that ever went over but may, -after his time is served, begin for himself, and may in time be sure -of raising a good plantation.</p> - -<p>For example, I will now take a man in the meanest circumstances of a -servant, who has served out his five or seven years; suppose a -transported wretch for seven years. The custom of the place was -then—what it is since I know not—that on his master’s certifying -that he had served his time out faithfully, he had fifty acres of land -allotted him for planting, and on this plan he begins.</p> - -<p>Some had a horse, a cow, and three hogs given, or rather lent, them, -as a stock for the land, which they made an allowance for at a certain -time and rate.</p> - -<p>Custom has made it a trade to give credit to such beginners as these -for tools, clothes, nails, ironwork, and other things necessary for -their planting, and which the persons so giving credit to them are to -be paid for out of the crop of tobacco which they shall plant. Nor is -it in the debtor’s power to defraud the creditor of payment in that -manner; and as tobacco is their coin as well as their product, so all -things are to be purchased at a certain quantity of tobacco, the price -being so rated.</p> - -<p>Thus the naked planter has credit at his beginning, and immediately -goes to work to cure the land and plant tobacco; and from this little -beginning have some of the most considerable planters in Virginia, and -in Maryland also, raised themselves—namely, from being without a hat -or a shoe to estates of £40,000 or £50,000; and in this method, I may -add, no diligent man ever miscarried, if he had health to work and was -a good husband; for he every year increases a little, and every year -adding more land and planting more tobacco, which is real money, he -must gradually increase in substance, till at length he gets enough to -buy negroes and other servants, and then never works himself any more.</p> - -<p>In a word, every Newgate wretch, every desperate forlorn creature, the -most despicable ruined man in the world, has here a fair opportunity -put into his hands to begin the world again, and that upon a foot of -certain gain and in a method exactly honest, with a reputation that -nothing past will have any effect upon; and innumerable people have -raised themselves from the worst circumstances in the world—namely, -from the cells in Newgate.</p> - -<p>But I return to my own story. I was now a planter, and encouraged by a -kind benefactor; for, that I might not be wholly taken up with my new -plantation, he gave me freely, and without any consideration, my -grateful negro, Mouchat. He told me it was a debt due to the affection -that poor creature had always had for me; and so indeed it was, for as -the fellow would once have been hanged for me, so now, and to his -last, he loved me so much that it was apparent he did everything with -pleasure that he did for me; and he was so overcome of joy when he -heard that he was to be my negro that the people in the plantation -really thought it would turn his head, and that the fellow would go -distracted.</p> - -<p>Besides this, he sent me two servants more, a man and a woman, but -these he put to my account, as above. Mouchat and these two fell -immediately to work for me, and 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, or shed rather, for -so it should be called.</p> - -<p>These two acres I got in good forwardness, and most of it well -planted with tobacco; though some of it we were obliged to plant with -garden-stuff for food, such as potatoes, carrots, cabbages, peas, -beans, &c.</p> - -<p>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. For my bill, as I have observed, having been copied and -attested in form, and sent to London, my kind friend and custom-house -gentleman paid me the money, and the merchant at London, by my good -master’s direction, had laid it all out 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 capes; that is to say, the mouth of the bay. -Some of the goods were recovered, but spoiled; and, in short, nothing -but the nails, tools, and ironwork were good for anything; and though -the value of them was pretty considerable in proportion to the rest, -yet my loss was irreparably great, and indeed the greatness of the -loss to me consisted in its being irreparable.</p> - -<p>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 several -years before 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 cheerfully to me. “Come,” says he, -“do not be so discouraged; you may make up this loss.” “No, sir,” says -I; “that never can be, for it is my all, and I shall never be out of -debt.” “Well, but,” says he, “you have no creditor, however, but me; -and now I remember I once told you I would make a man of you, and I -will not disappoint you for this disaster.”</p> - -<p>I thanked him, and did it with more ceremony and respect than ever, -because I thought myself 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 ironwork saved out of the ship, -in proportion, than I wanted, I supplied him with some part of it, and -took up some linen and clothes and other necessaries from him in -exchange.</p> - -<p>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.</p> - -<p>The first year, indeed, I took my wages, or salary—that is to say, -£30 a year—because I wanted it very much; but the second and third -year I resolved not to take it on any account whatsoever, but to leave -it in my benefactor’s hands to clear off the debt I had contracted.</p> - -<p>And now I must impose a short digression on the reader, to note that -notwithstanding all the disadvantages of a most wretched education, -yet now, when I began to feel myself, as I may say, in the world, and -to be arrived to an independent state, and to foresee that I might be -something considerable in time; I say, now I found different -sentiments of things taking place in my mind. And, first, I had a -solid principle of justice and honesty, and a secret horror at -things past, when I looked back upon my former life. That original -something—I knew not what—that used formerly to check me in the -first meannesses of my youth, and used to dictate to me when I was but -a child that I was to be a gentleman, continued to operate upon me now -in a manner I cannot describe; and I continually remembered the words -of the ancient glassmaker to the gentleman that he reproved for -swearing, that to be a gentleman was to be an honest man; that without -honesty human nature was sunk and degenerated; the gentleman lost all -the dignity of his birth, and placed himself even below an honest -beggar. These principles, growing upon my mind in the present -circumstances I was in, gave me a secret satisfaction that I can give -no description of. It was an inexpressible joy to me that I was now -like to be, not only a man, but an honest man; and it yielded me a -greater pleasure that I was ransomed from being a vagabond, a thief, -and a criminal, as I had been from a child, than that I was delivered -from slavery and the wretched state of a Virginia sold servant. I had -notion enough in my mind of the hardships of the servant, or slave, -because I had felt it and worked through it; I remembered it as a -state of labour and servitude, hardship and suffering. But the other -shocked my very nature, chilled my blood, and turned the very soul -within me; the thought of it was like reflections upon hell and the -damned spirits; it struck me with horror, it was odious and frightful -to look back on, and it gave me a kind of a fit, a convulsion or -nervous disorder, that was very uneasy to me.</p> - -<p>But to look forward, to reflect how things were changed, how happy I -was that I could live by my own endeavours, and was no more under the -necessity of being a villain, and of getting my bread at my own hazard -and the ruin of honest families—this had in it something more than -commonly pleasing and agreeable, and, in particular, it had a pleasure -that till then I had known nothing of. It was a sad thing to be under -a necessity of doing evil to procure that subsistence which I could -not support the want of, to be obliged to run the venture of the -gallows rather than the venture of starving, and to be always wicked -for fear of want.</p> - -<p>I cannot say that I had any serious religious reflections, or that -these things proceeded yet from the uneasiness of conscience, but from -mere reasonings with myself, and from being arrived to a capacity of -making a right judgment of things more than before. Yet I own I had -such an abhorrence of the wicked life I had led that I was secretly -easy, and had a kind of pleasure in the disaster that was upon me -about the ship, and that, though it was a loss, I could not but be -glad that those ill-gotten goods was gone, and that I had lost what I -had stolen. For I looked on it as none of mine, and that it would be -fire in my flax if I should mingle it with what I had now, which was -come honestly by, and was, as it were, sent from heaven to lay the -foundation of my prosperity, which the other would be only as a moth -to consume.</p> - -<p>At the same time my thoughts dictated to me, that though this was the -foundation of my new life, yet that this was not the superstructure, -and that I might still be born for greater things than these; that it -was honesty and virtue alone that made men rich and great, and gave -them a fame as well as a figure in the world, and that therefore I was -to lay my foundation in these, and expect what might follow in time.</p> - -<p>To help these thoughts, as I had learned to read and write when I was -in Scotland, so I began now to love books, and particularly I had an -opportunity of reading some very considerable ones, such as Livy’s -Roman History, the history of the Turks, the English History of Speed, -and others; the history of the Low Country wars, the history of -Gustavus Adolphus, king of Sweden, and the history of the Spaniards’ -conquest of Mexico, with several others, some of which I bought at a -planter’s house who was lately dead and his goods sold, and others I -had borrowed.</p> - -<p>I considered my present state of life to be my mere youth, though I -was now above thirty years old, because in my youth I had learned -nothing; and if my daily business, which was now great, would have -permitted, I would have been content to have gone to school. However, -fate, that had yet 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 life; that he acknowledged; and being driven to -extremities, took to the highway, for which, had he been taken, he -would have been hanged. But falling into some low-prized rogueries -afterwards, for want of opportunity for worse, was catched, condemned, -and transported, and, as he said, was glad he came off so.</p> - -<p>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 months, if I would let him -have books, or even without books, if he had time. I told him a book -would become his hands 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 I was assured that he was fit to -receive that favour of a kind master. In short, I made him to me what -my benefactor made me to him, and from him I gained a fund of -knowledge infinitely more valuable than the rate of a slave, which was -what I had paid for it; but of this hereafter.</p> - -<p>With these thoughts I went cheerfully about my work. As I had now five -servants, my plantation went on, though gently, yet safely, and -increased gradually, though slowly. But the third year, with the -assistance of my old benefactor, I purchased two negroes more, so that -now I had seven servants; and having cured land sufficient for supply -of their food, I was at no difficulty to maintain them; so that my -plantation began now to enlarge itself, and as I lived without any -personal expense, but was maintained at my old great master’s, as we -called him, and at his charge, with £30 a year besides, so all my -gains was laid up for increase.</p> - -<p>In this posture I went on for twelve years, and was very successful in -my plantation, and had gotten, by means of my master’s favour, who 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 plantation, and sufficient to sell to -others also.</p> - -<p>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 chiefly carried on his whole -business for him. Yet I seemed now at a loss; my counsellor and my -chief supporter was gone, and I had no confidant to communicate myself -to, on all occasions, as formerly; but there was no remedy. I was, -however, in a better condition to stand alone than ever. I had a very -large plantation, and had near seventy negroes and other servants. In -a word, I was grown really rich, considering my first circumstances, -that began as I may say with nothing; that is to say, I had nothing of -stock, but I had a great beginning, for I had such a man’s friendship -and support in my beginning, that indeed I needed no other stock; and -if I had had £500 to have begun with, and not the assistance, advice, -and countenance of such a man, I had not been in a better condition. -But he promised to make a man of me; and so he did, and in one respect -I may say I have merited it of him, for I brought his plantation into -such order, and the government of his negroes into such a regulation, -that if he had given £500 to have had it done, he would have thought -his money well bestowed. His work was always in order, going forward -to his mind; every thing was in a thriving posture; his servants all -loved him, even negroes and all, and yet there was no such thing as a -cruel punishment or severities known among them.</p> - -<p>In my own plantation it was the same thing. I wrought so upon the -reason and the affections of my negroes that they served me -cheerfully, and, by consequence, faithfully and diligently; when in my -neighbour’s plantation there was not a week hardly passed without such -horrible outcries, roarings and yellings of the servants, either under -torture or in fear of it, that their negroes would, in discourse with -ours, wish themselves dead and gone, as it seems they believed they -should after death, into their own country.</p> - -<p>If I met with a sullen, stupid fellow, as sometimes it was -unavoidable, I always parted with him and sold him off; for I would -not keep any that sense of kind usage would not oblige. But I seldom -met with such bad ones; for, by talking to them in a plain reasoning -way, I found the temper of the roughest of them would break and -soften. The sense of their own interest would prevail with them at -first or last; and if it had not, the contrary temper was so general -among my people that their own fellows and countrymen would be against -them, and that served to bring them to reason as soon as any other -thing. And this those who think it worth their while will easily find, -viz., that having prevailed effectually over one leading man among -them to be tractable, and pleased, and grateful, he shall make them -all like him, and that in a little while, with more ease than can be -imagined.</p> - -<p>I was now a planter, and also a student. My pedagogue I mentioned -above was very diligent, and proved an extraordinary man indeed. He -taught me not only with application, but with admirable judgment in -the teaching part; for I have seen it in many instances since that -time that every good scholar is not fitted for a schoolmaster, and -that the art of teaching is quite different from that of knowing the -language taught.</p> - -<p>But this man had both, and proved of great use to me, and I found -reason, in the worth of the person, to be very kind to him, his -circumstances considered. I once took the liberty to ask him how it -came to pass that he, who must have had a liberal education and great -advantages to have advanced him in the world, should be capable of -falling into such miserable circumstances as he was in when he came -over. I used some caution in entering upon an inquiry which, as I -said, might not be pleasant to him to relate, but that I would make -him amends by telling him, that if he desired not to enter into it -with me, I would readily excuse him, and would not take it ill at all. -This I did because to a man under such afflictions one should always -be tender, and not put them upon relating anything of themselves which -was grievous to them or which they had rather was concealed.</p> - -<p>But he told me that it was true, that to look back upon his past life -was indeed <i>renovare dolorem</i>; but that such mortifications were now -useful to him, to help forward that repentance which he hoped he was -sincerely entered upon; and that though it was with horror he looked -back upon misspent time and ill-applied gifts which a bountiful -Creator had blessed him with, and spared to him for a better improvement, -yet he thought he ought to load himself with as much of the shame as it -pleased God to make his lot, since he had already loaded himself with -the guilt in a shameless manner, till God, he still hoped in mercy to -him, had cut him short and brought him to public disgrace; though he -could not say he had been brought to justice, for then he had been sent -into eternity in despair, and not been sent to Virginia to repent of the -wickedest life that ever man lived. He would have gone on, but I found -his speech interrupted by a passionate struggle within, between his -grief and his tears.</p> - -<p>I took no more notice of it than to tell him that I was sorry I had -asked him about it, but that it was my curiosity. When I saw that -ignorant, untaught, untractable creatures come into misery and shame, -I made no inquiry after their affairs; but when I saw men of parts and -learning take such steps, I concluded it must be occasioned by -something exceeding wicked. “So, indeed,” said he, “the judge said to -me when I begged mercy of him in Latin. He told me that when a man -with such learning falls into such crimes he is more inexcusable than -other men, because, his learning recommending him, he could not want -advantages and had the less temptation to crimes.”</p> - -<p>“But, sir,” said he, “I believe my case was what I find is the case of -most of the wicked part of the world, viz., that to be reduced to -necessity is to be wicked; for necessity is not only the temptation, -but is such a temptation as human nature is not empowered to resist. -How good, then,” says he, “is that God which takes from you, sir, the -temptation, by taking away the necessity!”</p> - -<p>I was so sensible of the truth of what he said, knowing it by my own -case, that I could not enter any further upon the discourse; but he -went on voluntarily. “This, sir,” says he, “I am so sensible of that I -think the case I am reduced to much less miserable than the life which -I lived before, because I am delivered from the horrid necessity of -doing such ill things which was my ruin and disaster then, even for my -bread, and am not now obliged to ravish my bread out of the mouths of -others by violence and disorder, but am fed, though I am made to earn -it by the hard labour of my hands, and I thank God for the -difference.” He paused here, but went on thus:—</p> - -<p>“How much is the life of a slave in Virginia to be preferred to that -of the most prosperous thief in the world! Here I live miserable, but -honest; suffer wrong, but do no wrong; my body is punished, but my -conscience is not loaded; and as I used to say that I had no leisure -to look in, but I would begin when I had some recess, some time to -spare, now God has found me leisure to repent.” He run on in this -manner a great while, giving thanks, I believe most heartily, for his -being delivered from the wretched life he had lived, though his misery -were to be tenfold as much as it was.</p> - -<p>I was sincerely touched with his discourse on this subject. I had -known so much of the real difference of the case that I could not but -be affected with it, though till now, I confess, I knew little of the -religious part. I had been an offender as well as he, though not -altogether in the same degree, but I knew nothing of the penitence; -neither had I looked back upon anything as a crime, but as a life -dishonourable and not like a gentleman, which run much in my thoughts, -as I have several times mentioned.</p> - -<p>“Well, but now,” says I, “you talk penitently, and I hope you are -sincere; but what would be your case if you were delivered from the -miserable condition of a slave sold for money, which you are now in? -Should you not, think you, be the same man?”</p> - -<p>“Blessed be God,” says he, “that, if I thought I should, I would -sincerely pray that I might not be delivered, and that I might for -ever be a slave rather than a sinner.”</p> - -<p>“Well, but,” says I, “suppose you to be under the same necessity, in -the same starving condition, should you not take the same course?”</p> - -<p>He replied very sharply, “That shows us the need we have of the -petition in the Lord’s prayer, ‘Lead us not into temptation;’ and of -Solomon’s or Agar’s prayer, ‘Give me not poverty, lest I steal.’ I -should ever beg of God not to be left to such snares as human nature -cannot resist. But I have some hope, that I should venture to starve -rather than to steal; but I also beg to be delivered from the danger, -because I know not my own strength.”</p> - -<p>This was honestly spoken, indeed; and there really were such visible -tokens of sincerity in all his discourse that I could not suspect him. -On some of our discourses on this subject, he pulled out a little -dirty paper-book, in which he had wrote down such a prayer in verse as -I doubt few Christians in the world could subscribe to; and I cannot -but record it, because I never saw anything like it in my life. The -lines are as follow:—</p> - -<p class="poem"> -“Lord! whatsoever sorrows rack my breast,<br> -Till crime removes too, let me find no rest;<br> -How dark soe’er my state or sharp my pain,<br> -Oh! let not troubles cease and sin remain.<br> -For Jesus’ sake remove not my distress,<br> -Till free triumphant grace shall repossess<br> -The vacant throne from whence my sins depart,<br> -And make a willing captive of my heart;<br> -Till grace completely shall my soul subdue,<br> -Thy conquest full and my subjection true.”<br> -</p> - -<p> -There were more lines on the same subject, but these were the -beginning; and these touching me so sensibly, I have remembered them -distinctly ever since, and have, I believe, repeated them to myself a -thousand times.</p> - -<p>I pressed him no more, you may be sure, after an answer so very -particular and affecting as this was. It was easy to see the man was a -sincere penitent, not sorrowing for the punishment he was suffering -under; for his condition was no part of his affliction; he was rather -thankful for it, as above; but his concern was a feeling and affecting -sense of the wicked and abominable life he had led, the abhorred -crimes he had committed both against God and man, and the little sense -he had had of the condition he was in, and that even till he came to -the place where he now was.</p> - -<p>I asked him if he had no reflections of this kind after or before his -sentence. He told me Newgate (for the prison at Bristol is called so, -it seems, as well as that at London) was a place that seldom made -penitents, but often made villains worse, till they learnt to defy God -and devil; but that, however, he could look back with this -satisfaction, that he could say he was not altogether insensible of it -even then; but nothing that amounted to a thorough serious looking up -to heaven; that he often indeed looked in, and reflected upon his past -misspent life, even before he was in prison, when the intervals of his -wicked practices gave some time for reflection, and he would sometimes -say to himself, “Whither am I going? to what will all these things -bring me at last? and where will they end? Sin and shame follow one -another, and I shall certainly come to the gallows. Then,” said he, “I -would strike upon my breast, and say, ‘O wicked wretch! when will you -repent?’ and would answer myself as often, ‘Never! never! never! -except it be in a gaol or at a gibbet.’</p> - -<p>“Then,” said he, “I would weep and sigh, and look back a little upon -my wretched life, the history of which would make the world amazed; -but, alas! the prospect was so dark, and it filled me with so much -terror, that I could not bear it. Then I would fly to wine and company -for relief; that wine brought on excess, and that company, being -always wicked company like yourself, brought on temptation, and then -all reflection vanished and I was the same devil as before.”</p> - -<p>He spoke this with so much affection that his face was ever smiling -when he talked of it, and yet his eyes had tears standing in them at -the same time, and all the time; for he had a delightful sorrow, if -that be a proper expression, in speaking of it.</p> - -<p>This was a strange relation to me, and began to affect me after a -manner that I did not understand. I loved to hear him talk of it, and -yet it always left a kind of a dead lump behind it upon my heart, -which I could give no reason for, nor imagine to what it should tend; -I had a heaviness on my soul, without being able to describe it or to -say what ailed me.</p> - -<p>Well, he went on with his relation. “After this,” says he, “I fell -into the hands of a justice for a trifle, a piece of sport in our -crime; and I, that for a hundred robberies, as well on the highway as -otherwise, the particulars of which would fill a book to give an -account of, ought, whenever I was taken, to be hanged in chains, and -who, if it had been public, could not have failed of having twenty -people come in against me, was privately hurried into a country gaol -under a wrong name; tried for a small fact, within benefit of clergy, -and in which I was not principally guilty, and by this means obtained -the favour of being transported.</p> - -<p>“And what think you,” said he, “has most sensibly affected me, and -brought on the blessed change that, I hope I may say, God has wrought -in my soul? Not the greatness of my crimes, but the wonders of that -merciful Providence, which, when it has mercy in store for a man, -often brings him into the briers, into sorrow and misery for lesser -sins, that men may be led to see how they are spared from the -punishment due to them for the greater guilt which they know lies upon -them. Do you think that when I received the grant of transportation I -could be insensible what a miracle of divine goodness such a thing -must be to one who had so many ways deserved to be hanged, and must -infallibly have died if my true name had been known, or if the least -notice had been given that it was such a notorious wretch as I that -was in custody? There began the first motive of repentance; for -certainly the goodness of our great Creator in sparing us, when we -forfeit our lives to His justice, and His merciful bringing us out of -the miseries which we plunge ourselves into, when we have no way to -extricate ourselves; His bringing those very miseries to be the means -of our deliverance, and working good to us out of evil, when we are -working the very evil out of His good; I say, these things are -certainly the strongest motives to repentance that are in the world, -and the sparing thieves from the gallows certainly makes more -penitents than the gallows itself.</p> - -<p>“It is true,” continued he, “that the terror of punishment works -strongly upon the mind; in view of death men are filled with horror of -soul, and immediately they call that repentance which I doubt is too -often mistaken, being only a kind of anguish in the soul, which breeds -a grief for the punishment that is to be suffered—an amazement -founded upon the dreadful view of what is to follow. But the sense of -mercy is quite another thing; this seizes all the passions and all the -affections, and works a sincere, unfeigned abhorrence of the crime, as -a crime, as an offence against our Benefactor, as an act of baseness -and ingratitude to Him who has given us life and all the blessings and -comforts of life, and who has conquered us by continuing to do us -good, when He has been provoked to destroy us.</p> - -<p>“This, sir,” says he, “has been the fountain of that repentance which -I so much rejoice in; this is the delightful sorrow,” says he, “that I -spoke of just now; and this makes smiles sit on my face while tears -run from my eyes, a joy that I can no otherwise express than by -telling you, sir, that I never lived a happy day since I came to an -age of acting in the world till I landed in this country, and worked -in your plantation, naked and hungry, weary and faint, oppressed with -cold in one season, and heat in the other. Then I began to see into my -own ways, and see the difference between the hardships of the body and -the torment of the mind. Before I revelled in fulness, and here I -struggled with hard fare; then I wallowed in sloth and voluptuous -ease; here I laboured till nature sometimes was just sinking under the -load; but with this difference in the felicity of either case, namely, -that there I had a hell in my soul, was filled with horror and -confusion, was a daily terror to myself, and always expected a -miserable end; whereas here I had a blessed calm of soul, an emblem -and forerunner of heaven, thankful and humble, adoring that mercy that -had snatched me out of the jaws of the devil. These took up my -thoughts, and made my most weary hours pleasant to me, my labour -light, and my heart cheerful. I never lay down on my hard lodging but -I praised God with the greatest excess of affection, not only that it -was not the condemned hole, and that I was delivered from the death I -had deserved, but that it was not Shooter’s Hill; that I was not still -a robber, a terror to just and honest men, a plunderer of the innocent -and the poor, a thief, and a villain, that ought to be rooted out from -the earth for the safety of others; but that I was delivered from the -horrid temptation of sinning to support my luxury, and making one vice -necessary to another; and this, I bear witness, is sufficient to -sweeten the bitterest sorrow, and make any man be thankful for -Virginia, or a worse place, if that can be.”</p> - -<p>He then entertained me with an opinion of his, that if it were -possible for the face of heaven and hell to be disclosed and laid -open, and that men could be made capable of seeing distinctly and -separately the joys and glory and utmost felicity of one, and the -horrors of the other, and to make a judgment of both according to the -power of human reasoning, the first would have a stronger and more -powerful effect to reform the world than the latter; but this we had -further discourses about on many occasions.</p> - -<p>If it should be inquired how I was capable of hearing all this, and -having no impressions made upon my mind by it, especially when it so -many ways suited my own case, and the condition of the former part of -my life, I shall answer that presently by myself. However, I took no -notice of it to him, for he had quite other notions of me than I had -of myself; nor did I, as is usual in such cases, enter into any -confidence with him on my own story, only that I took sometimes the -occasion to let him know that I did not come over to Virginia in the -capacity of a criminal, or that I was not transported; which, -considering how many of the inhabitants there were so who then lived -in good circumstances, was needful enough to be done.</p> - -<p>But as to myself, it was enough that I was in condition now; ’twas no -matter to anybody what I had been; and as it was grown pretty much out -of memory from what original disaster I came into the country, or that -I was ever a servant otherwise than voluntary, and that it was no -business of mine to expose myself, so I kept that part close. But for -all that, it was impossible for me to conceal the disorder I was in as -often as he talked of these things. I had hitherto gone on upon a -notion of things founded only in their appearance, as they affected me -with good or evil, esteeming the happy and unhappy part of life to be -those that gave me ease or sorrow, without regarding, or indeed much -understanding, how far those turns of life were influenced by the -Giver of Life, or how far they were all directed by a sovereign God -that governs the world, and all the creatures he had made.</p> - -<p>As I had no education but as you have heard, so I had had no -instruction, no knowledge of religion, or indeed of the meaning of it; -and though I was now in a kind of search after religion, it was a mere -looking, as it were, into the world to see what kind of a thing or -place it was, and what had been done in it. But as to Him that made -it, there had truly been scarce a creature among all that He had made, -with souls in them, that were so entirely without the knowledge of God -as I was, and made so little inquiry about it.</p> - -<p>But the serious, affectionate discourse of this young man began to -have different effects upon me, and I began to say to myself, “This -man’s reflections are certainly very just; but what a creature am I, -and what have I been doing!—I that never once did this in all my -life; that never said so much—’God, I thank Thee for all that I have -been saved from, or all that I have been brought to in this world;’ -and yet my life has been as full of variety, and I have been as -miraculously delivered from dangers and mischiefs, and as many of -them, as ever he has. And if it has all been brought to pass by an -invisible hand in mercy to me, what have I been doing, and where have -I lived, that I only should be the most thoughtless and unthankful of -all God’s creatures?”</p> - -<p>This, indeed, began to grow upon me, and made me very melancholy; but -as to religion, I understood so little about it that if I had resolved -upon any such thing as a new course of life, or to set about a -religious change, I knew not at which end to begin or what to do about -it.</p> - -<p>One day it happened that my tutor—for so I always called him—had the -Bible in his hand, and was looking in it, as he generally did many -times every day, though I knew not for what. Seeing the Bible, I took -it out of his hands, and went to look in it, which I had done so -little before that I think I might safely say I had never read a -chapter in it in all my life. He was talking of the Bible then as a -book only, and where he had it, and how he brought it to Virginia, and -in some ecstasy he took and kissed it. “This blessed book!” says he; -“this was all the treasure I brought out from England with me. And a -comfortable treasure it has been to me,” added he; “I would not have -been without it in my sorrows for any other treasure in the world;” -and so he went on at large.</p> - -<p>I, that had no notion of what he meant—only, as I have said above, -some young infant thoughts about the works of Providence in the world -and its merciful dealings with me—took the book out of his hand and -went to look in it; and the book opened at the Acts xxvi. 28, where -Felix says to St. Paul, “Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian.” -“I think,” says I, “here’s a line hits me to a tittle, upon the long -account you have given of yourself, and I must say them to you, as the -governor here said;” and so I read the words to him. He blushed at the -text, and returns, “I wish I could answer you in the very words the -Apostle returned to him in the next verse: ‘I would thou wert both -almost, and altogether such as I am, except these bonds.’”</p> - -<p>I was now more than thirty years old by my own account, and as well as -it was possible for me to keep a reckoning of my age, who had nobody -left that ever knew my beginning; I was, I say, above thirty years -old, and had gone through some variety in the world. But as I was -perfectly abandoned in my infancy, and utterly without instruction in -my youth, so I was entirely ignorant of everything that was worthy the -name of religion in the world; and this was the first time that ever -any notion of religious things entered into my heart. I was surprised -at this man’s talk, and that several ways particularly he talked so -feelingly of his past circumstances, and they were so like my own, -that every time he made a religious inference from his own condition, -and argued from one condition of his to another, it struck into my -thoughts like a bullet from a gun that I had certainly as much to be -thankful for and to repent of as he had, except only that I had no -knowledge of better things to be thankful for, which he had. But in -return for that, I was delivered and set up in the world, made a -master, and easy, and was in good circumstances, being raised from the -very same low, distressed condition as he was in—I mean a sold -servant—but that he remained so still; so that, if his sin had been -greater than mine, so his distress was still greater.</p> - -<p>This article of gratitude struck deep and lay heavy upon my mind. I -remembered that I was grateful to the last degree to my old master, -who had raised me from my low condition, and that I loved the very -name of him, or, as might be said, the very ground he trod on; but I -had not so much as once thought of any higher obligation; no, nor so -much as, like the Pharisee, had said once, “God, I thank thee,” to -Him, for all the influence which His providence must have had in my -whole affair.</p> - -<p>It occurred to me presently that if none of all these things befall us -without the direction of a Divine Power, as my new instructor had told -me at large, and that God had ordered everything, the most minute and -least transaction of life, insomuch that not a hair of our head shall -fall to the ground without His permission; I say, it occurred to me -that I had been a most unthankful dog to that Providence that had done -so much for me; and the consequence of the reflection was immediately -this: how justly may that Power, so disobliged, take away again His -wool and His flax, with which I am now clothed, and reduce me to the -misery of my first circumstances.</p> - -<p>This perplexed me much, and I was very pensive and sad; in which, -however, my new instructor was a constant comforter to me, and I -learned every day something or other from him; upon which I told him -one morning that I thought be must leave off teaching me Latin, and -teach me religion. He spoke with a great deal of modesty of his being -incapable of informing me of anything that I did not know, and -proposed to me to read the Scriptures every day, as the sure and only -fund of instruction. I answered that, in the words of the eunuch to -St. Philip when the apostle asked him if he understood what he read: -“How can I, unless some one guide me?”</p> - -<p>We talked frequently upon this subject, and I found so much reason to -believe he was a sincere convert that I can speak of him as no other -in all I have to say of him. However, I cannot say my thoughts were -yet ripened for an operation of that kind. I had some uneasiness about -my past life, and I lived now, and had done so before I knew him, a -very regular, sober life, always taken up in my business and running -into no excesses. But as to commencing penitent, as this man had done, -I cannot say I had any convictions upon me sufficient to bring it on, -nor had I a fund of religious knowledge to support me in it. So it -wore off again gradually, as such things generally do where the first -impressions are not deep enough.</p> - -<p>In the meantime, as he read over long lectures of his own disasters to -me, and applied them all seriously to me, so our discourse was always -very solid and weighty, and we had nothing of levity between us, even -when we were not concerned in religious discourses. He read history to -me; and, where books were wanting, he gave me ideas of those things -which had not been recorded by our modern histories, or at least that -our number of books would not reach. By these things he raised an -unquenchable thirst in me, after seeing something that was doing in -the world; and the more because all the world was at that time -engaged, more or less, in the great war wherein the French king might -be said to be engaged with and against all the powers of Europe.</p> - -<p>Now, I looked upon myself as one buried alive in a remote part of the -world, where I could see nothing at all, and hear but a little of what -was seen, and that little not till at least half a year after it was -done, and sometimes a year or more; and, in a word, the old reproach -often came in the way—namely, that even this was not yet the life of -a gentleman.</p> - -<p>It was true that this was much nearer to it than that of a pickpocket, -and still nearer than that of a sold slave; but, in short, this would -not do, and I could receive no satisfaction in it. I had now a second -plantation, a very considerable one, and it went forward very well. I -had on it almost a hundred servants already of sundry sorts, and an -overseer that I had a great deal of reason to say I might depend upon, -and but that I had a third in embryo, and newly begun, I had nothing -to hinder me from going where I pleased.</p> - -<p>However, I 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 possible, and realise those -things to my mind which I had hitherto only entertained remote ideas -of by the help of books.</p> - -<p>Accordingly I pushed forward the settlement of my third plantation, in -order to bring it to be in a posture either to be let to a tenant or -left in trust with an overseer, as I should find occasion.</p> - -<p>Had I resolved to leave it to an overseer or steward, no man in the -world could have been fit for it like my tutor; but I could not think -of parting with him, who was the cause of my desire of travelling, and -who I concluded to make my partner in my travels.</p> - -<h5>END OF VOL. I.</h5> - -<h3>THE LIFE OF COLONEL JACQUE.</h3> - -<p> -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, to my great -disappointment, 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’s diligence and honest application, even unassisted, delivered -himself, [though not] any farther than, as I say, by making him an -overseer, which was only a present ease and deliverance to him from -the hard labour and fare which he endured as a servant.</p> - -<p>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 principal manager for near twenty years, as you shall hear in -its place.</p> - -<p>I mention these things the more at large that, if any unhappy wretch -who may have the disaster to fall into such circumstances as these may -come to see this account, they may learn the following short lessons -from these examples:—</p> - -<p>I. That Virginia and a state of transportation may be the happiest -place and condition they were ever in for this life, as, by a sincere -repentance and a diligent application to the business they are put to, -they are effectually delivered from a life of flagrant wickedness and -put in a perfect new condition, in which they have no temptation to -the crimes they formerly committed, and have a prospect of advantage -for the future.</p> - -<p>II. That in Virginia the meanest and most despicable creature, after -his time of servitude is expired, if he will but apply himself with -diligence and industry to the business of the country, is sure (life -and health supposed) both of living well and growing rich.</p> - -<p>As this is a foundation which the most unfortunate wretch alive is -entitled to, a transported felon is, in my opinion, a much happier man -than the most prosperous untaken thief in the nation. Nor are those -poor young people so much in the wrong as some imagine them to be that -go voluntarily over to those countries, and in order to get themselves -carried over and placed there, freely bind themselves there, -especially if the persons into whose hands they fall do anything -honestly by them; for, as it is to be supposed that those poor people -knew not what course to take before, or had miscarried in their -conduct before, here they are sure to be immediately provided for, -and, after the expiration of their time, to be put in a condition to -provide for themselves. But I return to my own story, which now begins -a new scene.</p> - -<p>I was now making provision for my going to England. After having -settled my plantation in such hands as was 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 me 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 correspondent 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.</p> - -<p>About two months after this I left the place, and embarked for England -in a stout ship, carrying twenty-four guns and about six hundred -hogsheads of tobacco, and we left the capes of Virginia on the 1st 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.</p> - -<p>After we had been about eleven days at sea, having the wind most part -of the time blowing very hard at west, or between the west and -north-west, by which we were carried a great way farther to the -eastward than they usually go in their course for England, we met with -a furious tempest, which held us five days, blowing most of the time -excessive hard, and by which we were obliged to run away afore the -wind, as the seamen call it, wheresoever it was our lot to go. By this -storm our ship was greatly damaged, and some leaks we had, but not so -bad that by the diligence of the seamen they were stopped. However, -the captain, after having beaten up again as well as he could against -the weather, and the sea going very high, at length he resolved to go -away for the Bermudas.</p> - -<p>I was not seaman enough to understand what the reason of their -disputes was, but in their running for the islands it seems they -overshot the latitude, and could never reach the islands of Bermudas -again. The master and the mate differed to an extremity about this, -their reckonings being more than usually wide of one another, the -storm having driven them a little out of their knowledge. The master, -being a positive man, insulted the mate about it, and threatened to -expose him for it when he came to England. The mate was an excellent -sea artist and an experienced sailor, but withal a modest man, and -though he insisted upon his being right, did it in respectful terms -and as it became him. But after several days’ dispute, when the -weather came to abate and the heavens to clear up, that they could -take their observations and know where they were, it appeared that the -mate’s account was right, and the captain was mistaken; for they were -then in the latitude of 29 degrees, and quite out of the wake of the -Bermudas.</p> - -<p>The mate made no indecent use of the discovery at all, and the -captain, being convinced, carried it civilly to him, and so the heats -were over among them; but the next question was, what they should do -next. Some were for going one way, some another; but all agreed that -they were not in a condition to go on the direct course for England, -unless they could have a southerly or south-west wind, which had not -been our fate since we came to sea.</p> - -<p>Upon the whole, they resolved by consent to steer away to the -Canaries, which was the nearest land they could make except the Cape -de Verde Islands, which were too much to the southward for us, if it -could be avoided.</p> - -<p>Upon this they stood away N.E., and the wind hanging still westerly, -or to the northward of the west, we made good way, and in about -fifteen days’ sail we made the Pico Teneriffe, being a monstrous hill -in one of the Canary Islands. Here we refreshed ourselves, got fresh -water and some fresh provisions, and plenty of excellent wine, but no -harbour to run into, to take care of the ship, which was leaky and -tender, having had so much very bad weather; so we were obliged to do -as well as we could, and put to sea again, after riding at the -Canaries four days only.</p> - -<p>From the Canaries we had tolerable weather and a smooth sea till we -came into the soundings—so they call the mouth of the British -Channel—and the wind blowing hard at the N. and the N.W. obliged us -to keep a larger offing, as the seamen call it, at our entrance into -the Channel; when, behold! in the grey of the morning a French cruiser -or privateer of twenty-six guns appeared, and crowded after us with -all the sail they could make. In short, our captain exchanged a -broadside or two with them, 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 best men.</p> - -<p>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 to St. Malo.</p> - -<p>I was not much concerned for the loss I had in the ship, because I -knew I had sufficient in the world somewhere or other; but as I was -effectually stripped of everything I had about me, and even almost my -clothes from my back, I was in but a very indifferent condition. But -somebody informing the captain of the privateer, that I was a -passenger and a merchant, he called for me and inquired into my -circumstances, and coming to hear from myself how I had been used, -obliged the seamen to give me a coat and hat and a pair of shoes, -which they had taken off me, and himself gave me a morning gown of his -own to wear while I was in his ship, and, to give him his due, treated -me very well.</p> - -<p>I had, however, besides my being taken, the mortification to be -detained on board the cruiser, and seeing the ship I was in manned -with Frenchmen and sent away, as above, for St. Malo; and this was a -greater mortification to me afterwards, when, being brought into St. -Malo, I heard that our own ship was retaken in her passage to St. Malo -by an English man-of-war and carried to Portsmouth.</p> - -<p>When our ship was sent away the <i>Rover</i> cruised abroad again in the -mouth of the Channel for some time, but met with no purchase. At last -they made a sail, which proved to be one of their nation and one of -their own trade, from whom they learned, the news having been carried -to England that some French privateers lay off and on in the -soundings, that three English men-of-war were come out from Plymouth -on purpose to cruise in the Channel, and that they would certainly -meet with us. Upon this intelligence the Frenchman, a bold, brave -fellow, far from shrinking from his work, stands away N.E. for St. -George’s Channel, and in the latitude of 48 degrees and a half, -unhappily enough, meets with a large and rich English ship, bound home -from Jamaica. It was in the grey of the morning, and very clear, when -a man on the roundtop cried out, “<i>Au voile</i>, a sail.” I was in hopes -indeed it had been the English men-of-war, and by the hurry and -clutter they were in to get all ready for a fight, I concluded it was -so, and got out of my hammock (for I had no cabin to lie in) that I -might see what it was; but I soon found that my hopes were in vain, -and it was on the wrong side; for that that being on our larboard bow, -the ship lying then northward to make the coast of Ireland, by the -time I was turned out I could perceive they had all their sails bent -and full, having begun to chase, and making great way. On the other -hand, it was evident the ship saw them too, and knew what they were, -and, to avoid them, stretched away with all the canvas they could lay -on for the coast of Ireland, to run in there for harbour.</p> - -<p>Our privateer, it was plain, infinitely outsailed her, running two -foot for her one, and towards evening came up with them. Had they been -able to have held it but six hours longer they would have got into -Limerick River, or somewhere under shore, so that we should not have -ventured upon them. But we came up with them, and the captain, when he -saw there was no remedy, bravely brought to and prepared to fight. She -was a ship of thirty guns, but deep in the sea, cumbered between decks -with goods, and could not run out her lower-deck guns, the sea also -going pretty high, though at last she ventured to open her gun-room -ports and fire with three guns on a side. But her worst fate was, she -sailed heavy, being deep loaden, and the Frenchman had run up by her -side and poured in his broadside, and was soon ready again. However, -as she was well manned too, and that the English sailors bestirred -themselves, they gave us their broadsides too very nimbly and -heartily, and I found the Frenchman had a great many men killed at the -first brush. But the next was worse, for the English ship, though she -did not sail so well as the Frenchman, was a bigger ship and strong -built, and as we (the French) bore down upon them again, the English -run boldly on board us, and laid thwart our hawse, lashing themselves -fast to us. Then it was that the English captain run out his lower -tier of guns, and indeed tore the Frenchman so, that, had he held it, -the privateer would have had the worst of it. But the Frenchman, with -admirable readiness, indeed, and courage, the captain appearing -everywhere with his sword in his hand, bestirred themselves, and -loosing themselves from the English ship, thrusting her off with -brooms, and pouring their small shot so thick that the other could not -appear upon deck; I say, clearing themselves thus, they came to lie -a-broadside of each other, when, by long firing, the English ship was -at length disabled, her mizzen-mast and bowsprit shot away, and, which -was worst of all, her captain killed; so that, after a fight which -held all night—for they fought in the dark—and part of the next day, -they were obliged to strike.</p> - -<p>I was civilly desired by the French captain to go down into the hold -while the fight held, and, besides the civility of it, I found he was -not willing I should be upon deck. Perhaps he thought I might have -some opportunity to do hurt, though I know not how it could be. -However, I was very ready to go down, for I had no mind to be killed, -especially by my own friends; so I went down and sat by the surgeon, -and had the opportunity to find that, the first broadside the English -fired, seven wounded men were brought down to the surgeon, and -three-and-thirty more afterwards, that is to say, when the English lay -thwart their bow; and after they cleared themselves there were about -eleven more; so that they had one-and-fifty men wounded and about -two-and-twenty killed. The Englishman had eighteen men killed and -wounded, among whom was the captain.</p> - -<p>The French captain, however, triumphed in his prize; for it was an -exceeding rich ship, having abundance of silver on board. And after -the ship was taken and they had plundered all the great cabin -afforded, which was very considerable, the mate promised the captain -that, if he would give him his liberty, he would discover six thousand -pieces of eight to him privately, which none of the men should know -of. The captain engaged, and gave it under his hand to set him at -liberty as soon as he came on shore. Accordingly, in the night, after -all was either turned in, as they call it, or employed on the duty of -the watch, the captain and the mate of the prize went on board, and -having faithfully discovered the money, which lay in a place made on -purpose to conceal it, the captain resolved to let it lie till they -arrived, and then he conveyed it on shore for his own use; so that the -owners, nor the seamen, ever came to any share of it, which, by the -way, was a fraud in the captain. But the mate paid his ransom by the -discovery, and the captain gave him his liberty very punctually, as he -had promised, and two hundred pieces of eight to carry him to England -and to make good his losses.</p> - -<p>When he had made this prize, the captain thought of nothing more than -how to get safe to France with her, for she was a ship sufficient to -enrich all his men and his owners also. The account of her cargo, by -the captain’s books, of which I took a copy, was in general:</p> - -<p class="letter"> -260 hogsheads of sugar.<br> -187 smaller casks of sugar.<br> -176 barrels of indigo.<br> -28 casks of pimento.<br> -42 bags of cotton wool.<br> -80 cwt. of elephants’ teeth.<br> -60 small casks of rum.<br> -18,000 pieces of eight, besides the six thousand concealed.<br> -Several parcels of drugs, tortoise-shell, sweetmeats, called succades, -chocolate, lime juice, and other things of considerable value. -</p> - -<p> -This was a terrible loss among the English merchants, and a noble -booty for the rogues that took it; but as it was in open war and by -fair fighting, as they call it, there was no objection to be made -against them, and, to give them their due, they fought bravely for it.</p> - -<p>The captain was not so bold as to meeting the English men-of-war -before, but he was as wary now; for, having a prize of such value in -his hands, he was resolved not to lose her again, if he could help it. -So he stood away to the southward, and that so far that I once thought -he was resolved to go into the Straits, and home by Marseilles. But -having sailed to the latitude of 45 degrees 3 quarters, or -thereabouts, he steered away east, into the bottom of the Bay of -Biscay, and carried us all into the river of Bordeaux, where, on -notice of his arrival with such a prize, his owners or principals came -overland to see him, and where they consulted what to do with her. The -money they secured, to be sure, and some of the cargo; but the ships -sailed afterwards along the coast to St. Malo, taking the opportunity -of some French men-of-war which were cruising on the coast to be their -convoy as far as Ushant.</p> - -<p>Here the captain rewarded and dismissed the English mate, as I have -said, who got a passage from thence to Dieppe by sea, and after that -into England, by the help of a passport, through Flanders to Ostend. -The captain, it seems, the more willingly shipped him off that he -might not discover to others what he had discovered to him.</p> - -<p>I was now at Bordeaux, in France, and the captain asked me one morning -what I intended to do. I did not understand him at first, but he soon -gave me to understand that I was now either to be delivered up to the -state as an English prisoner, and so be carried to Dinan, in Brittany, -or to find means to have myself exchanged, or to pay my ransom, and -this ransom he told me at first was three hundred crowns.</p> - -<p>I knew not what to do, but desired he would give me time to write to -England to my friends; for that I had a cargo of goods sent to them by -me from Virginia, but I did not know but it might have fallen into -such hands as his were, and if it was, I knew not what would be my -fate. He readily granted that; so I wrote by the post, and had the -satisfaction, in answer to it, to hear that the ship I was taken in -had been retaken, and carried into Portsmouth; which I doubted would -have made my new master more strict, and perhaps insolent; but he said -nothing of it to me, nor I to him, though, as I afterwards understood, -he had advice of it before.</p> - -<p>However, this was a help to me, and served to more than pay my ransom -to the captain. And my correspondent in London, hearing of my being -alive and at Bordeaux, immediately sent me a letter of credit upon an -English merchant at Bordeaux for whatever I might have occasion for. -As soon as I received this I went to the merchant, who honoured the -letter of credit, and told me I should have what money I pleased. But -as I, who was before a mere stranger in the place and knew not what -course to take, had now, as it were, a friend to communicate my -affairs to and consult with, as soon as I told him my case, “Hold,” -says he; “if that be your case, I may perhaps find a way to get you -off without a ransom.”</p> - -<p>There was, it seems, a ship bound home to France from Martinico, taken -off Cape Finisterre by an English man-of-war, and a merchant of -Rochelle, being a passenger, was taken on board, and brought into -Plymouth. This man had made great solicitation by his friends to be -exchanged, pleading poverty, and that he was unable to pay any ransom. -My friend told me something of it, but not much, only bade me not be -too forward to pay any money to the captain, but pretend I could not -hear from England. This I did till the captain appeared impatient.</p> - -<p>After some time the captain told me I had used him ill; that I had -made him expect a ransom, and he had treated me courteously and been -at expense to subsist me, and that I held him in suspense, but that, -in short, if I did not procure the money, he would send me to Dinan in -ten days, to lie there as the king’s prisoner till I should be -exchanged. My merchant gave me my cue, and by his direction I answered -I was very sensible of his civility, and sorry he should lose what -expenses he had been at, but that I found my friends forgot me, and -what to do I did not know, and that, rather than impose upon him, I -must submit to go to Dinan, or where he thought fit to send me; but -that if ever I obtained my liberty, and came into England, I would not -fail to reimburse him what expense he had been at for my subsistence; -and so, in short, made my case very bad in all my discourse. He shook -his head and said little, but the next day entered me in the list of -English prisoners to be at the king’s charge, as appointed by the -intendant of the place, and to be sent away into Brittany.</p> - -<p>I was then out of the captain’s power, and immediately the merchant, -with two others who were friends to the merchant prisoner at Plymouth, -went to the intendant and gained an order for the exchange, and my -friend giving security for my being forthcoming, in case the other was -not delivered, I had my liberty immediately, and went home with him to -his house.</p> - -<p>Thus we bilked the captain of his ransom money. But, however, my -friend went to him, and letting him know that I was exchanged by the -governor’s order, paid him whatever he could say he was in disburse on -my account; and it was not then in the captain’s power to object, or -to claim anything for a ransom.</p> - -<p>I got passage from hence to Dunkirk on board a French vessel, and -having a certificate of an exchanged prisoner from the intendent at -Bordeaux, I had a passport given me to go into the Spanish -Netherlands, and so whither I pleased.</p> - -<p>Accordingly I came to Ghent, in April——, just as the armies were -going to take the field. I had no dislike to the business of the army, -but I thought I was a little above it now, and had other things to -look to; for that, in my opinion, nobody went into the field but those -that could not live at home. And yet I resolved to see the manner of -it a little too, so, having made an acquaintance with an English -officer quartered at Ghent, I told him my intention, and he invited me -to go with him, and offered me his protection as a volunteer, that I -should quarter with him in his tent, and live as I would, and either -carry arms or not, as I saw occasion.</p> - -<p>The campaign was none of the hardest that had been, or was like to be; -so that I had the diversion of seeing the service, as it was proper to -call it, without much hazard. Indeed I did not see any considerable -action, for there was not much fighting that campaign. As to the merit -of the cause on either side, I knew nothing of it, nor had I suffered -any of the disputes about it to enter into my thoughts. The Prince of -Orange had been made king of England, and the English troops were all -on his side; and I heard a great deal of swearing and damning for King -William among the soldiers. But as for fighting, I observed the French -beat them several times, and particularly the regiment my friend -belonged to was surrounded in a village where they were posted, I knew -not upon what occasion, and all taken prisoners. But by great good -hap, I, being not in service, and so not in command, was strolled away -that day to see the country about; for it was my delight to see the -strong towns, and observe the beauty of their fortifications; and -while I diverted myself thus, I had the happy deliverance of not being -taken by the French for that time.</p> - -<p>When I came back I found the enemy possessed of the town, but as I -was no soldier they did me no harm, and having my French passport in -my pocket, they gave me leave to go to Nieuport, where I took the -packet-boat and came over to England, landing at Deal instead of -Dover, the weather forcing us into the Downs; and thus my short -campaign ended, and this was my second essay at the trade of -soldiering.</p> - -<p>When I came to London I was very well received by my friend, to -whom I had consigned my effects, and I found myself in very good -circumstances; for all my goods, which, as above, by several ships, I -had consigned to him, came safe to hand; and my overseers that I had -left behind had shipped at several times four hundred hogsheads of -tobacco to my correspondent in my absence, being the product of my -plantation, or part of it, for the time of my being abroad; so that I -had above £1000 in my factor’s hands, two hundred hogsheads of tobacco -besides left in hand, not sold.</p> - -<p> -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 thing in the -world to do; for I was grown out of everybody’s knowledge, 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 inquiring at the -proper place, had been rambling about the world, came to London, fell -into his own 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 Jacque, who I called major, followed the like wicked trade, -but was a man of more gallantry and generosity; and having committed -innumerable depredations upon mankind, yet had 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, with 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 -with so much success that he 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 generously, as they called it, without -murdering or wounding, or ill-using those they robbed;—I say, he had -the honour to be broke upon the wheel at the Greve in Paris. -</p> - -<p>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 who I got the -knowledge of without letting them so much as guess at who I was or -upon what account I inquired.</p> - -<p>I was now at the height of my good fortune. Indeed I was in very good -circumstances, and being of a frugal temper from the beginning, I -saved things together as they came, and yet lived very well too. -Particularly I had the reputation of a very considerable merchant, and -one that came over vastly rich from Virginia; and as I frequently -bought supplies for my several families and plantations there as they -wrote to me for them, so I passed, I say, for a great merchant.</p> - -<p>I lived single, indeed, and in lodgings, but I began to be very well -known, and though I had subscribed my name only “Jack” to my -particular correspondent, yet the French, among whom I lived near a -year, as I have said, not understanding what Jack meant, called me -Monsieur Jacques and Colonel Jacques, and so gradually Colonel Jacque. -So I was called in the certificate of exchanging me with the other -prisoner, so that I went so also into Flanders; upon which, and seeing -my certificate of exchange, as above, I was called Colonel Jacques in -England by my friend who I called correspondent. And thus I passed for -a foreigner and a Frenchman, and I was infinitely fond of having -everybody take me for a Frenchman; and as I spoke French very well, -having learned it by continuing so long among them, so I went -constantly to the French church in London, and spoke French upon all -occasions as much as I could; and, to complete the appearance of it, I -got me a French servant to do my business—I mean as to my -merchandise, which only consisted in receiving and disposing of -tobacco, of which I had about five hundred to six hundred hogsheads a -year from my own plantations, and in supplying my people with -necessaries as they wanted them.</p> - -<p>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 my interest, by laying a snare in my way which had almost -ruined me.</p> - -<p>There dwelt a lady in the house opposite to the house I lodged in, who -made an extraordinary figure indeed. She went very well dressed, and -was a most beautiful person. She was well-bred, sung admirably fine, -and sometimes I could hear her very distinctly, the houses being over -against one another, in a narrow court, not much unlike Three King -Court in Lombard Street.</p> - -<p>This lady put herself so often in my way that I could not in good -manners forbear taking notice of her, and giving her 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 I lodged at, 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.</p> - -<p>I was a mere boy in the affair of love, and knew the least of what -belonged to a woman of 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.</p> - -<p>But I know not by what witchcraft in the conversation of this woman, -and her singling me out upon several occasions, I began to be -ensnared, I knew not how, or to what end; and was on a sudden so -embarrassed in my thoughts about her that, like a charm, she had me -always in her circle. If she had not been one of the subtlest women on -earth, she could never have brought me to have given myself the least -trouble about her, but I was drawn in by the magic of a genius capable -to deceive a more wary capacity than mine, and it was impossible to -resist her.</p> - -<p>She attacked me without ceasing, with the fineness 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 obstructions, 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.</p> - -<p>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 the bay several months.</p> - -<p>All this while nothing was more certain than that she intended -to have me, if she could catch; and it was indeed a kind of a catch, -for she managed all by art, and drew me in with the most resolute -backwardness, that it was almost impossible not to be deceived by it. -On the other hand, she did not appear to be a woman despicable, -neither was she poor, or in a condition that should require so much -art to draw any man in; but the cheat was really on my side; for she -was unhappily told that I was vastly rich, a great merchant, and that -she would live like a queen; which I was not at all instrumental in -putting upon her, neither did I know that she went upon that motive.</p> - -<p>She was too cunning to let me perceive how easy she was to be had; on -the contrary, she run all the hazards of bringing me to neglect her -entirely that one would think any woman in the world could do. And I -have wondered often since how that it was possible it should fail of -making me perfectly averse to her; for as I had a perfect indifferency -for the whole sex, and never till then entertained any notion of them, -they were no more to me than a picture hanging up against a wall.</p> - -<p>As we conversed freely together in public, so she took a great many -occasions to rally the men, and the weakness they were guilty of in -letting the women insult them as they did. She thought if the men had -not been fools, marriage had been only treaties of peace between two -neighbours, or alliances offensive or defensive, which must -necessarily have been carried on sometimes by interviews and personal -treaties, but oftener by ambassadors, agents, and emissaries on both -sides; but that the women had outwitted us, and brought us upon our -knees, and made us whine after them, and lower ourselves, so as we -could never pretend to gain our equality again.</p> - -<p>I told her I thought it was a decency to the ladies to give them the -advantage of denying a little, that they might be courted, and that I -should not like a woman the worse for denying me. “I expect it, -madam,” says I, “when I wait on you to-morrow;” intimating that I -intended it. “You shan’t be deceived, sir,” says she, “for I’ll deny -now, before you ask me the question.”</p> - -<p>I was dashed so effectually with so malicious, so devilish an answer -that I returned with a little sullenness, “I shan’t trespass upon you -yet, madam; and I shall be very careful not to offend you when I do.”</p> - -<p>“It is the greatest token of your respect, sir,” says she, “that you -are able to bestow upon me, and the most agreeable too, except one, -which I will not be out of hopes of obtaining of you in a little -time.”</p> - -<p>“What is in my power to oblige you in, madam,” said I, “you may -command me in at any time, especially the way we are talking of.” This -I spoke still with a resentment very sincere.</p> - -<p>“It is only, sir, that you would promise to hate me with as much -sincerity as I will endeavour to make you a suitable return.”</p> - -<p>“I granted that request, madam, seven years before you asked it,” said -I, “for I heartily hated the whole sex, and scarce know how I came to -abate that good disposition in compliment to your conversation; but I -assure you that abatement is so little that it does no injury to your -proposal.”</p> - -<p>“There’s some mystery in that indeed, sir,” said she, “for I desire to -assist your aversion to women in a more particular manner, and hoped -it should never abate under my management.” We said a thousand -ill-natured things after this, but she outdid me, for she had such a -stock of bitterness upon her tongue as no woman ever went beyond her, -and yet all this while she was the pleasantest and most obliging -creature in every part of our conversation that could possibly be, and -meant not one word of what she said; no, not a word. But I must -confess it no way answered her end, for it really cooled all my -thoughts of her, and I, that had lived in so perfect an indifferency -to the sex all my days, was easily returned to that condition again, -and began to grow very cold and negligent in my usual respects to her -upon all occasions.</p> - -<p>She soon found she had gone too far with me, and, in short, that she -was extremely out in her politics; that she had to do with one that -was not listed yet among the whining sort of lovers, and knew not what -it was to adore a mistress in order to abuse her; and that it was not -with me as it was with the usual sort of men in love, that are warmed -by the cold, and rise in their passions as the ladies fall in their -returns. On the contrary, she found that it was quite altered. I was -civil to her, as before, but not so forward. When I saw her at her -chamber-window, I did not throw mine open, as I usually had done, to -talk with her. When she sung in the parlour, where I could easily hear -it, I did not listen. When she visited at the house where I lodged, I -did not always come down; or if I did, I had business which obliged me -to go abroad; and yet all this while, when I did come into her -company, I was as intimate as ever.</p> - -<p>I could easily see that this madded her to the heart, and that she -was perplexed to the last degree, for she found that she had all her -game to play over again; that so absolute a reservedness, even to -rudeness and ill manners, was a little too much; but she was a mere -posture-mistress in love, and could put herself into what shapes she -pleased.</p> - -<p>She was too wise to show a fondness or forwardness that looked like -kindness. She knew that was the meanest and last step a woman can -take, and lays her under the foot of the man she pretends to. Fondness -is not the last favour indeed, but it is the last favour but one that -a woman can grant, and lays her almost as low; I mean, it lays her at -the mercy of the man she shows it to; but she was not come to that -neither. This chameleon put on another colour, turned, on a sudden, -the gravest, soberest, majestic madam, so that any one would have -thought she was advanced in age in one week from two-and-twenty to -fifty, and this she carried on with so much government of herself that -it did not in the least look like art; but if it was a representation -of nature only, it was so like nature itself that nobody living can be -able to distinguish. She sung very often in her parlour, as well by -herself as with two young ladies who came often to see her. I could -see by their books, and her guitar in her hand, that she was singing; -but she never opened the window, as she was wont to do. Upon my -coming to my window, she kept her own always shut; or if it was open, -she would be sitting at work, and not look up, it may be, once in -half-an-hour.</p> - -<p>If she saw me by accident all this while, she would smile, and speak -as cheerfully as ever; but it was but a word or two, and so make her -honours and be gone; so that, in a word, we conversed just as we did -after I had been there a week.</p> - -<p>She tired me quite out at this work; for though I began the -strangeness, indeed, yet I did not design the carrying it on so far. -But she held it to the last, just in the same manner as she began it. -She came to the house where I lodged as usual, and we were often -together, supped together, played at cards together, danced together; -for in France I accomplished myself with everything that was needful -to make me what I believed myself to be even from a boy—I mean a -gentleman. I say, we conversed together, as above, but she was so -perfectly another thing to what she used to be in every part of her -conversation that it presently occurred to me that her former -behaviour was a kind of a rant or fit; that either it was the effect -of some extraordinary levity that had come upon her, or that it was -done to mimic the coquets of the town, believing it might take with -me, who she thought was a Frenchman, and that it was what I loved. But -her new gravity was her real natural temper, and indeed it became her -so much better, or, as I should say, she acted it so well, that it -really brought me back to have, not as much only, but more mind to her -than ever I had before.</p> - -<p>However, it was a great while before I discovered myself, and I stayed -indeed to find out, if possible, whether this change was real or -counterfeit; for I could not easily believe it was possible the gay -humour she used to appear in could be a counterfeit. It was not, -therefore, till a year and almost a quarter that I came to any -resolution in my thoughts about her, when, on a mere accident, we came -to a little conversation together.</p> - -<p>She came to visit at our house as usual, and it happened all the -ladies were gone abroad; but, as it fell out, I was in the passage or -entry of the house, going towards the stairs, when she knocked at the -door; so, stepping back, I opened the door, and she, without any -ceremony, came in, and ran forward into the parlour, supposing the -women had been there. I went in after her, as I could do no less, -because she did not know that the family was abroad.</p> - -<p>Upon my coming in she asked for the ladies. I told her I hoped she -came to visit me now, for that the ladies were all gone abroad. “Are -they?” said she, as if surprised—though I understood afterwards she -knew it before, as also that I was at home—and then rises up to be -gone. “No, madam,” said I, “pray do not go; when ladies come to visit -me, I do not use to tire them of my company so soon.” “That’s as -ill-natured,” says she, “as you could possibly talk. Pray don’t -pretend I came to visit you. I am satisfied who I came to visit, and -satisfied that you know it.” “Yes, madam,” said I; “but if I happen to -be all of the family that’s left at home, then you came to visit me.”</p> -<br> - -<p class="center"><a name="div1_03" href="#div1Ref_03"><img src="images/jackandlady.png" alt="Jacque and lady"><br> -COLONEL JACQUE AND THE LADY</a></p> -<br> -<p>“I never receive visits from those that I hate,” says she.</p> - -<p>“You have me there, indeed,” said I; “but you never gave me leave to -tell you why I hated you. I hated you because you would never give me -an opportunity to tell you I loved you. Sure, you took me for some -frightful creature, that you would never come near enough so much as -to let me whisper to you that I love you.”</p> - -<p>“I never care to hear anything so disagreeable,” says she, “though it -be spoken ever so softly.”</p> - -<p>We rallied thus for an hour. In short, she showed the abundance of her -wit, and I an abundant deficiency of mine; for though three or four -times she provoked me to the last degree, so that once I was going to -tell her I had enough of her company, and, if she pleased I would wait -upon her to the door, yet she had always so much witchcraft on her -tongue that she brought herself off again; till, to make the story -short, we came at last to talk seriously on both sides about -matrimony, and she heard me freely propose it, and answered me -directly upon many occasions. For example, she told me I would carry -her away to France or to Virginia, and that she could not think of -leaving England, her native country. I told her I hoped she did not -take me for a kidnapper. (By the way, I did not tell her how I had -been kidnapped myself.) She said no; but the consequence of my -affairs, which were, it seems, mostly abroad, might oblige me to go, -and she could never think of marrying any man that she could not be -content to go all over the world with, if he had occasion to go -himself. This was handsomely expressed indeed. I made her easy on that -point, and thus we began the grand parley; which indeed she drew me -into with the utmost art and subtilty, such as was peculiar to -herself, but was infinitely her advantage in our treating of marriage; -for she made me effectually court her, though at the same time in her -design she courted me with the utmost skill, and such skill it was -that her design was perfectly impenetrable to the last moment.</p> - -<p>In short, we came nearer and nearer every time we met; and after one -casual visit more, in which I had the mighty favour of talking with -her alone, I then waited on her every day at her own house, or -lodgings rather, and so we set about the work to a purpose, and in -about a month we gave the world the slip, and were privately married, -to avoid ceremony and the public inconveniency of a wedding.</p> - -<p>We soon found a house proper for our dwelling, and so went to -housekeeping. We had not been long together but I found that gay -temper of my wife returned, and she threw off the mask of her gravity -and good conduct, that I had so long fancied was her mere natural -disposition; and now, having no more occasion for disguises, she -resolved to seem nothing but what really she was, a wild, untamed -colt, perfectly loose, and careless to conceal any part, no, not the -worst of her conduct.</p> - -<p>She carried on this air of levity to such an excess that I could not -but be dissatisfied at the expense of it; for she kept company that I -did not like, lived beyond what I could support, and sometimes lost at -play more than I cared to pay. Upon which, one day, I took occasion to -mention it, but lightly; and said to her, by way of raillery, that we -lived merrily, for as long as it would last. She turned short upon me, -“What do you mean?” says she. “Why, you don’t pretend to be uneasy, do -ye?” “No, no, madam, not I, by no means; it is no business of mine, -you know,” said I, “to inquire what my wife spends, or whether she -spends more than I can afford, or less. I only desire the favour to -know, as near as you can guess, how long you will please to take to -despatch me, for I would not be too long a-dying.”</p> - -<p>“I do not know what you talk of,” says she. “You may die as leisurely, -or as hastily, as you please, when your time comes; I a’nt a-going to -kill you, as I know of.”</p> - -<p>“But you are a-going to starve me, madam,” said I, “and hunger is as -leisurely a death as breaking upon the wheel.”</p> - -<p>“I starve you! Why, are not you a great Virginia merchant, and did not -I bring you £1500? What would you have? Sure, you can maintain a wife -out of that, can’t you?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, madam,” says I, “I could maintain a wife, but not a gamester, -though you had brought me £1500 a year; no estate is big enough for a -box and dice.”</p> - -<p>She took fire at that, and flew out in a passion, and after a great -many bitter words, told me, in short, that she saw no occasion to -alter her conduct; and as for my not maintaining her, when I could not -maintain her longer she would find some way or other to maintain -herself.</p> - -<p>Some time after the first rattle of this kind, she vouchsafed to let -me know that she was pleased to be with child. I was at first glad of -it, in hopes it would help to abate her madness; but it was all one, -and her being with child only added to the rest, for she made such -preparations for her lying-in, and the other appendixes of a child’s -being born, that, in short, I found she would be downright distracted. -And I took the liberty to tell her one day that she would soon bring -herself and me to destruction, and entreated her to consider that such -figures as those were quite above us, and out of our circle; and, in -short, that I neither could nor would allow such expenses; that, at -this rate, two or three children would effectually ruin me, and that I -desired her to consider what she was doing.</p> - -<p>She told me, with an air of disdain, that it was none of her business -to consider anything of that matter; that if I could not allow it, she -would allow it herself, and I might do my worst.</p> - -<p>I begged her to consider things for all that, and not drive me to -extremities; that I married her to love and cherish her, and use her -as a good wife ought to be used, but not to be ruined and undone by -her. In a word, nothing could mollify her, nor any argument persuade -her to moderation, but withal she took it so heinously that I should -pretend to restrain her, that she told me in so many words she would -drop her burthen with me, and then, if I did not like it, she would -take care of herself; she would not live with me an hour, for she -would not be restrained, not she; and talked a long while at that -rate.</p> - -<p>I told her, as to her child, which she called her burthen, it should -be no burthen to me; as to the rest, she might do as she pleased; it -might, however, do me this favour, that I should have no more lyings -in at the rate of £136 at a time, as I found she intended it should be -now. She told me she could not tell that; if she had no more by me, -she hoped she should by somebody else. “Say you so, madam?” said I. -“Then they that get them shall keep them.” She did not know that -neither, she said, and so turned it off jeering, and, as it were, -laughing at me.</p> - -<p>This last discourse nettled me, I must confess, and the more because I -had a great deal of it and very often, till, in short, we began at -length to enter into a friendly treaty about parting.</p> - -<p>Nothing could be more criminal than the several discourses we had upon -this subject. She demanded a separate maintenance, and, in particular, -at the rate of £300 a year, and I demanded security of her that she -should not run me in debt. She demanded the keeping of the child, with -an allowance of £100 a year for that, and I demanded that I should be -secured from being charged for keeping any she might have by somebody -else, as she had threatened me.</p> - -<p>In the interval, and during these contests, she dropped her burthen -(as she called it), and brought me a son, a very fine child.</p> - -<p>She was content during her lying-in to abate a little, though it was -but a very little indeed, of the great expense she had intended, and, -with some difficulty and persuasion, was content with a suit of -child-bed linen of £15 instead of one she had intended of threescore; -and this she magnified as a particular testimony of her condescension -and a yielding to my avaricious temper, as she called it. But after -she was up again, it was the same thing, and she went on with her -humour to that degree that in a little time she began to carry it on -to other excesses, and to have a sort of fellows come to visit her, -which I did not like, and once, in particular, stayed abroad all -night. The next day, when she came home, she began to cry out first; -told me where (as she said) she lay, and that the occasion was a -christening, where the company had a feast and stayed too late; that, -if I was dissatisfied, I might inform myself there of all the -particulars, where she lay, and the like. I told her coldly, “Madam, -you do well to suggest my being dissatisfied, for you may be sure I -am, and you could expect no other; that as to going to your haunts to -inform myself, that is not my business: it is your business to bring -testimonies of your behaviour, and to prove where you lay, and in what -company. It is enough to me that you lay out of your own house, -without your husband’s knowledge or consent, and before you and I -converse again I must have some satisfaction of the particulars.”</p> - -<p>She answered, with all her heart; she was as in different as I; and -since I took so ill her lying at a friend’s house on an extraordinary -occasion, she gave me to understand that it was what she would have me -expect, and what she would have the liberty to do when she thought -fit.</p> - -<p>“Well, madam,” said I, “if I must expect what I cannot allow, you must -expect I shall shut my doors by day against those that keep out of -them at night.”</p> - -<p>She would try me, she said, very speedily; and if I shut the doors -against her, she would find a way to make me open them.</p> - -<p>“Well, madam,” says I, “you threaten me hard, but I would advise you -to consider before you take such measures, for I shall be as good as -my word.” However, it was not long that we could live together upon -these terms; for I found very quickly what company she kept, and that -she took a course which I ought not to bear. So I began the separation -first, and refused her my bed. We had indeed refrained all converse as -husband and wife for about two months before, for I told her very -plainly I would father no brats that were not of my own getting; and -matters coming thus gradually to an extremity, too great to continue -as it was, she went off one afternoon, and left me a line in writing, -signifying that affairs had come to such a pass between us that she -did not think fit to give me the opportunity of shutting her out of -doors, and that therefore she had retired herself to such a place, -naming a relation of her own, as scandalous as herself; and that she -hoped I would not give her the trouble to sue for her support in the -ordinary course of law, but that, as her occasions required, she -should draw bills upon me, which she expected I would not refuse.</p> - -<p>I was extremely satisfied with this proceeding, and took care to let -her hear of it, though I gave no answer at all to her letter; and as I -had taken care before that whenever she played such a prank as this, -she should not be able to carry much with her, so, after she was gone, -I immediately broke up housekeeping, sold my furniture by public -outcry, and in it everything in particular that was her own, and set a -bill upon my door, giving her to understand by it that she had passed -the Rubicon, that as she had taken such a step of her own accord, so -there was no room left her ever to think of coming back again.</p> - -<p>This was what any one may believe I should not have done if I had seen -any room for a reformation; but she had given me such testimonies of a -mind alienated from her husband, in particular espousing her own -unsufferable levity, that there was indeed no possibility of our -coming afterwards to any terms again.</p> - -<p>However, I kept a couple of trusty agents so near her that I failed -not to have a full account of her conduct, though I never let her know -anything of me but that I was gone over to France. As to her bills -which she said she would draw upon me, she was as good as her word in -drawing one of £30, which I refused to accept, and never gave her -leave to trouble me with another.</p> - -<p>It is true, and I must acknowledge it, that all this was a very -melancholy scene of life to me, and but that she took care by carrying -herself to the last degree provoking, and continually to insult me, I -could never have gone on to the parting with so much resolution; for I -really loved her very sincerely, and could have been anything but a -beggar and a cuckold with her, but those were intolerable to me, -especially as they were put upon me with so much insult and rudeness.</p> - -<p>But my wife carried it at last to a point that made all things light -and easy to me, for after above a year’s separation, and keeping such -company as she thought fit, she was pleased to be with child again, in -which she had, however, so much honesty as not to pretend that she had -had anything to do with me. What a wretched life she led after this, -and how she brought herself to the utmost extremity of misery and -distress, I may speak of hereafter.</p> - -<p>I had found, soon after our parting, that I had a great deal of reason -to put myself into a posture at first not to be imposed upon by her; -for I found very quickly that she had run herself into debt in several -places very considerably, and that it was upon a supposition that I -was liable to those debts. But I was gone, and it was absolutely -necessary I should do so; upon which she found herself obliged, out of -her wicked gains, however, whatever she made of them, to discharge -most of those debts herself.</p> - -<p>As soon as she was delivered of her child, in which my intelligence -was so good that I had gotten sufficient proof of it, I sued her in -the ecclesiastical court, in order to obtain a divorce; and as she -found it impossible to avoid it, so she declined the defence, and I -gained a legal decree, or what they call it, of divorce, in the usual -time of such process; and now I thought myself a free man once again, -and began to be sick of wedlock with all my heart.</p> - -<p>I lived retired, because I knew she had contracted debts which I -should be obliged to pay, and I was resolved to be gone out of her -reach with what speed I could. But it was necessary that I should stay -till the Virginia fleet came in, because I looked for at least three -hundred hogsheads of tobacco from thence, which I knew would heal all -my breaches; for indeed the extravagance of three years with this lady -had sunk me most effectually, even far beyond her own fortune, which -was considerable, though not quite £1500, as she had called it.</p> - -<p>But all the mischiefs I met with on account of this match were not -over yet; for when I had been parted with her about three months, and -had refused to accept her bill of £30, which I mentioned above, though -I was removed from my first lodgings too, and thought I had -effectually secured myself from being found out, yet there came a -gentleman well dressed to my lodgings one day, and was let in before I -knew of it, or else I should scarce have admitted him.</p> - -<p>He was led into a parlour, and I came down to him in my gown and -slippers. When I came into the room he called me as familiarly -by my name as if he had known me twenty years, and pulling out a -pocket-book, he shows me a bill upon me, drawn by my wife, which was -the same bill for £30 that I had refused before.</p> - -<p>“Sir,” says I, “this bill has been presented before, and I gave my -answer to it then.”</p> - -<p>“Answer, sir!” says he, with a kind of jeering, taunting air. “I do -not understand what you mean by an answer; it is not a question, sir; -it is a bill to be paid.”</p> - -<p>“Well, sir,” says I, “it is a bill; I know that, and I gave my answer -to it before.”</p> - -<p>“Sir, sir,” says he very saucily, “your answer! There is no answer to -a bill; it must be paid. Bills are to be paid, not to be answered. -They say you are a merchant, sir; merchants always pay their bills.”</p> - -<p>I began to be angry too a little, but I did not like my man, for I -found he began to be quarrelsome. However, I said, “Sir, I perceive -you are not much used to presenting bills. Sir, a bill is always first -presented, and presenting is a question; it is asking if I will accept -or pay the bill, and then whether I say yes or no, it is an answer one -way or other. After ’tis accepted, it indeed requires no more answer -but payment when ’tis due. If you please to inform yourself, this is -the usage which all merchants or tradesmen of any kind who have bills -drawn upon them act by.”</p> - -<p>“Well, sir,” says he, “and what then? What is this to the paying me -the £30?”</p> - -<p>“Why, sir,” says I, “it is this to it, that I told the person that -brought it I should not pay it.”</p> - -<p>“Not pay it!” says he. “But you shall pay it; ay, ay, you will pay -it.”</p> - -<p>“She that draws it has no reason to draw any bills upon me, I am -sure,” said I; “and I shall pay no bills she draws, I assure you.”</p> - -<p>Upon this he turns short upon me: “Sir, she that draws this bill is a -person of too much honour to draw any bill without reason, and ’tis an -affront to say so of her, and I shall expect satisfaction of you for -that by itself. But first the bill, sir—the bill; you must pay the -bill, sir.”</p> - -<p>I returned as short: “Sir, I affront nobody. I know the person as well -as you, I hope; and what I have said of her is no affront. She can -have no reason to draw bills upon me, for I owe her nothing.”</p> - -<p>I omit intermingling the oaths he laced his speech with, as too foul -for my paper. But he told me he would make me know she had friends to -stand by her, that I had abused her, and he would let me know it, and -do her justice. But first I must pay his bill.</p> - -<p>I answered, in short, I would not pay the bill, nor any bills she -should draw.</p> - -<p>With that he steps to the door and shuts it, and swore by G—d he -would make me pay the bill before we parted, and laid his hand upon -his sword, but did not draw it out.</p> - -<p>I confess I was frighted to the last degree, for I had no sword; and -if I had, I must own that, though I had learned a great many good -things in France to make me look like a gentleman, I had forgot the -main article of learning how to use a sword, a thing so universally -practised there; and, to say more, I had been perfectly unacquainted -with quarrels of this nature; so that I was perfectly surprised when -he shut the door, and knew not what to say or do.</p> - -<p>However, as it happened, the people of the house, hearing us pretty -loud, came near the door, and made a noise in the entry to let me know -they were at hand; and one of the servants, going to open the door, -and finding it locked, called out to me, “Sir, for God’s sake open the -door! What is the matter? Shall we fetch a constable?” I made no -answer, but it gave me courage; so I sat down composed in one of the -chairs, and said to him, “Sir, this is not the way to make me pay the -bill; you had much better be easy, and take your satisfaction another -way.”</p> - -<p>He understood me of fighting, which, upon my word, was not in my -thoughts; but I meant that he had better take his course at law.</p> - -<p>“With all my heart,” says he; “they say you are a gentleman, and they -call you colonel. Now, if you are a gentleman, I accept your -challenge, sir; and if you will walk out with me, I will take it for -full payment of the bill, and will decide it as gentlemen ought to -do.”</p> - -<p>“I challenge you, sir!” said I. “Not I; I made no challenge,” I said. -“This is not the way to make me pay a bill that I have not accepted; -that is, that you had better seek your satisfaction at law.”</p> - -<p>“Law!” says he; “law! Gentlemen’s law is my law. In short, sir, you -shall pay me or fight me.” And then, as if he had mistaken, he turns -short upon me, “Nay,” says he, “you shall both fight me and pay me, -for I will maintain her honour;” and in saying this he bestowed about -six or seven “damme’s” and oaths, by way of parenthesis.</p> - -<p>This interval delivered me effectually, for just at the words “fight -me, for I will maintain her honour,” the maid had brought in a -constable, with three or four neighbours to assist him.</p> - -<p>He heard them come in, and began to be a little in a rage, and asked -me if I intended to mob him instead of paying; and laying his hand on -his sword, told me, if any man offered to break in upon him, he would -run me through the first moment, that he might have the fewer to deal -with afterwards.</p> - -<p>I told him he knew I had called for no help (believing he could not be -in earnest in what he had said), and that, if anybody attempted to -come in upon us, it was to prevent the mischief he threatened, and -which he might see I had no weapons to resist.</p> - -<p>Upon this the constable called, and charged us both in the king’s name -to open the door. I was sitting in a chair, and offered to rise. He -made a motion as if he would draw, upon which I sat down again, and -the door not being opened, the constable set his foot against it and -came in.</p> - -<p>“Well, sir,” says my gentleman, “and what now? What’s your business -here?” “Nay, sir,” says the constable, “you see my business. I am a -peace-officer; all I have to do is to keep the peace, and I find the -people of the house frightened for fear of mischief between you, and -they have fetched me to prevent it.” “What mischief have they supposed -you should find?” says he. “I suppose,” says the constable, “they were -afraid you should fight.” “That’s because they did not know this -fellow here. He never fights. They call him colonel,” says he. “I -suppose he might be born a colonel, for I dare say he was born a -coward; he never fights; he dares not see a man. If he would have -fought, he would have walked out with me, but he scorns to be brave; -they would never have talked to you of fighting if they had known him. -I tell you, Mr. Constable, he is a coward, and a coward is a rascal;” -and with that he came to me, and stroked his finger down my nose -pretty hard, and laughed and mocked most horribly, as if I was a -coward. Now, for aught I knew, it might be true, but I was now what -they call a coward made desperate, which is one of the worst of men in -the world to encounter with; for, being in a fury, I threw my head in -his face, and closing with him, threw him fairly on his back by mere -strength; and had not the constable stepped in and taken me off, I had -certainly stamped him to death with my feet, for my blood was now all -in a flame, and the people of the house were frighted now as much the -other way, lest I should kill him, though I had no weapon at all in my -hand.</p> - -<p>The constable too reproved me in his turn; but I said to him, “Mr. -Constable, do you not think I am sufficiently provoked? Can any man -bear such things as these? I desire to know who this man is and who -sent him hither.”</p> - -<p>“I am,” says he, “a gentleman, and come with a bill to him for money, -and he refuses to pay it.” “Well,” says the constable very prudently, -“that is none of my business; I am no justice of the peace to hear the -cause. Be that among yourselves, but keep your hands off one another, -and that is as much as I desire; and therefore, sir,” says the -constable to him, “if I may advise you, seeing he will not pay the -bill, and that must be decided between you as the law directs, I would -have you leave it for the present and go quietly away.”</p> - -<p>He made many impertinent harangues about the bill, and insisted that -it was drawn by my own wife. I said angrily, “Then it was drawn by a -whore.” He bullied me upon that, told me I durst not tell him so -anywhere else; so I answered, “I would very soon publish her for a -whore to all the world, and cry her down;” and thus we scolded for -near half-an-hour, for I took courage when the constable was there, -for I knew that he would keep us from fighting, which indeed I had no -mind to, and so at length I got rid of him.</p> - -<p>I was heartily vexed at this rencounter, and the more because I had -been found out in my lodging, which I thought I had effectually -concealed. However, I resolved to remove the next day, and in the -meantime I kept within doors all that day till the evening, and then I -went out in order not to return thither any more.</p> - -<p>Being come out into Gracechurch Street, I observed a man follow me, -with one of his legs tied up in a string, and hopping along with the -other, and two crutches; he begged for a farthing, but I inclining not -to give him anything, the fellow followed me still, till I came to a -court, when I answered hastily to him, “I have nothing for you! Pray -do not be so troublesome!” with which words he knocked me down with -one of his crutches.</p> - -<p>Being stunned with the blow, I knew nothing what was done to me -afterwards; but coming to myself again, I found I was wounded very -frightfully in several places, and that among the rest my nose was -slit upwards, one of my ears cut almost off, and a great cut with a -sword on the side of the forehead; also a stab into the body, though -not dangerous.</p> - -<p>Who had been near me, or struck me, besides the cripple that struck me -with his crutch, I knew not, nor do I know to this hour; but I was -terribly wounded, and lay bleeding on the ground some time, till, -coming to myself, I got strength to cry out for help, and people -coming about me, I got some hands to carry me to my lodging, where I -lay by it more than two months before I was well enough to go out of -doors; and when I did go out, I had reason to believe that I was -waited for by some rogues, who watched an opportunity to repeat the -injury I had met with before.</p> - -<p>This made me very uneasy, and I resolved to get myself out of danger -if possible, and to go over to France, or home, as I called it, to -Virginia, so to be out of the way of villains and assassinations; for -every time I stirred out here I thought I went in danger of my life; -and therefore, as before, I went out at night, thinking to be -concealed, so now I never went out but in open day, that I might be -safe, and never without one or two servants to be my lifeguard.</p> - -<p>But I must do my wife a piece of justice here too, and that was, that, -hearing what had befallen me, she wrote me a letter, in which she -treated me more decently than she had been wont to do. She said she -was very sorry to hear how I had been used, and the rather because she -understood it was on presenting her bill to me. She said she hoped I -could not, in my worst dispositions, think so hardly of her as to -believe it was done by her knowledge or consent, much less by her -order or direction; that she abhorred such things, and protested, if -she had the least knowledge or so much as a guess at the villains -concerned, she would discover them to me. She let me know the person’s -name to whom she gave the bill, and where he lived, and left it to me -to oblige him to discover the person who had brought it and used me so -ill, and wished I might find him and bring him to justice, and have -him punished with the utmost severity of the law.</p> - -<p>I took this so kindly of my wife that I think in my conscience, had -she come after it herself to see how I did, I had certainly taken her -again; but she satisfied herself with the civility of another letter, -and desiring me to let her know as often as I could how I was; adding -that it would be infinitely to her satisfaction to hear I was -recovered of the hurt I had received, and that he was hanged at Tyburn -who had done it.</p> - -<p>She used some expressions signifying, as I understood them, her -affliction at our parting and her continued respect for me; but did -not make any motion towards returning. Then she used some arguments to -move me to pay her bills, intimating that she had brought me a large -fortune, and now had nothing to subsist on, which was very severe.</p> - -<p>I wrote her an answer to this letter, though I had not to the other, -letting her know how I had been used; that I was satisfied, upon her -letter, that she had no hand in it; that it was not in her nature to -treat me so, who had never injured her, used any violence with her, or -been the cause or desire of our parting; that, as to her bill, she -could not but know how much her expensive way of living had straitened -and reduced me, and would, if continued, have ruined me; that she had -in less than three years spent more than as much as she brought to me, -and would not abate her expensive way, though calmly entreated by me, -with protestations that I could not support so great an expense, but -chose rather to break up her family and go from me than to restrain -herself to reasonable limits; though I used no violence with her, but -entreaties and earnest persuasions, backed with good reason; letting -her know how my estate was, and convincing her that it must reduce us -to poverty at least; that, however, if she would recall her bill, I -would send her £30, which was the sum mentioned in her bill, and, -according to my ability, would not let her want, if she pleased to -live within due bounds; but then I let her know also that I had a very -bad account of her conduct, and that she kept company with a -scandalous fellow, who I named to her; that I was loth to believe such -things of her, but that, to put an entire end to the report and -restore her reputation, I let her know that still, after all I heard, -if she would resolve to live without restraints, within the reasonable -bounds of my capacity, and treat me with the same kindness, affection, -and tenderness as I always had treated her, and ever would, I was -willing to receive her again, and would forget all that was past; but -that, if she declined me now, it would be forever; for if she did not -accept my offer, I was resolved to stay here no longer, where I had -been so ill-treated on many occasions, but was preparing to go into my -own country, where I would spend my days in quiet, and in a retreat -from the world.</p> - -<p>She did not give such an answer to this as I expected; for though she -thanked me for the £30, yet she insisted upon her justification in all -other points; and though she did not refuse to return to me, yet she -did not say she accepted it, and, in short, said little or nothing to -it, only a kind of claim to a reparation of her injured reputation, -and the like.</p> - -<p>This gave me some surprise at first, for I thought, indeed, any woman -in her circumstances would have been very willing to have put an end -to all her miseries, and to the reproach which was upon her, by a -reconciliation, especially considering she subsisted at that time but -very meanly. But there was a particular reason which prevented her -return, and which she could not plead to in her letter, yet was a good -reason against accepting an offer which she would otherwise have been -glad of; and this was, that, as I have mentioned above, she had fallen -into bad company, and had prostituted her virtue to some of her -flatterers, and, in short, was with child; so that she durst not -venture to accept my offer.</p> - -<p>However, as I observed above, she did not absolutely refuse it, -intending (as I understood afterward) to keep the treaty of it on foot -till she could drop her burthen, as she had called it before, and -having been delivered privately, have accepted my proposal afterward; -and, indeed, this was the most prudent step she could take, or, as we -may say, the only step she had left to take. But I was too many for -her here too. My intelligence about her was too good for her to -conceal such an affair from me, unless she had gone away before she -was visibly big, and unless she had gone farther off too than she did; -for I had an account to a tittle of the time when, and place where, -and the creature of which she was delivered; and then my offers of -taking her again were at an end, though she wrote me several very -penitent letters, acknowledging her crime and begging me to forgive -her. But my spirit was above all that now, nor could I ever bear the -thoughts of her after that, but pursued a divorce, and accordingly -obtained it, as I have mentioned already.</p> - -<p>Things being at this pass, I resolved, as I have observed before, to -go over to France, after I had received my effects from Virginia; and -accordingly I came to Dunkirk in the year ——, and here I fell into -company with some Irish officers of the regiment of Dillon, who by -little and little entered me into the army, and by the help of -Lieutenant-General ——, an Irishman, and some money, I obtained a -company in his regiment, and so went into the army directly.</p> - -<p>I was exceeding pleased with my new circumstances, and now I used to -say to myself I was come to what I was born to, and that I had never -till now lived the life of a gentleman.</p> - -<p>Our regiment, after I had been some time in it, was commanded into -Italy, and one of the most considerable actions that I was in was the -famous attack upon Cremona, in the Milanese, where the Germans, being -privately and by treachery let into the town in the night through a -kind of common sewer, surprised the town and got possession of the -greatest part of it, surprising the mareschal, Duke de Villeroi, and -taking him prisoner as he came out of his quarters, and beating the -few French troops which were left in the citadel; but were in the -middle of their victory so boldly and resolutely attacked by two Irish -regiments who were quartered in the street leading to the river Po, -and who kept possession of the water-gate, or Po gate, of the town, by -which the German reinforcements should have come in, that, after a -most desperate fight, the Germans had their victory wrung out of their -hands, and not being able to break through us to let in their friends, -were obliged at length to quit the town again, to the eternal honour -of those Irish regiments, and indeed of their whole nation, and for -which we had a very handsome compliment from the king of France.</p> - -<p>I now had the satisfaction of knowing, and that for the first time -too, that I was not that cowardly, low-spirited wretch that I was when -the fellow bullied me in my lodgings about the bill of £30. Had he -attacked me now, though in the very same condition, I should, naked -and unarmed as I was, have flown in the face of him and trampled him -under my feet. But men never know themselves till they are tried, and -courage is acquired by time and experience of things.</p> - -<p>Philip de Comines tells us that, after the battle of Monteleri, the -Count de Charolois, who till then had an utter aversion to the war, -and abhorred it and everything that belonged to it, was so changed by -the glory he obtained in that action, and by the flattery of those -about him, that afterwards the army was his mistress and the fatigues -of the war his chief delight. It is too great an example for me to -bring in my own case, but so it was, that they flattered me so with my -bravery, as they called it, on the occasion of this action, that I -fancied myself brave, whether I was so or not, and the pride of it -made me bold and daring to the last degree on all occasions. But what -added to it was, that somebody gave a particular account to the Court -of my being instrumental to the saving the city, and the whole -Cremonese, by my extraordinary defence of the Po gate, and by my -managing that defence after the lieutenant-colonel who commanded the -party where I was posted was killed; upon which the king sent me a -public testimony of his accepting my service, and sent me a brevet to -be lieutenant-colonel, and the next courier brought me actually a -commission for lieutenant-colonel in the regiment of ——.</p> - -<p>I was in several skirmishes and petty encounters before this, by which -I gained the reputation of a good officer; but I happened to be in -some particular posts too, by which I got somewhat that I liked much -better, and that was a good deal of money.</p> - -<p>Our regiment was sent from France to Italy by sea. We embarked at -Toulon, and landed at Savona, in the territory of Genoa, and marched -from thence to the duchy of Milan. At the first town we were sent to -take possession of, which was Alexandria, the citizens rose upon our -men in a most furious manner, and drove the whole garrison, which -consisted of eight hundred men—that is, French and soldiers in the -French service—quite out of the town.</p> - -<p>I was quartered in a burgher’s house, just by one of the ports, with -eight of my men and a servant, where, calling a short council with my -men, we were resolved to maintain the house we were in, whatever it -cost, till we received orders to quit it from the commanding officer. -Upon this, when I saw our men could not stand their ground in the -street, being pressed hard by the citizens, I turned out of doors all -the family, and kept the house as a castle, which I was governor in; -and as the house joined to the city gate, I resolved to maintain it, -so as to be the last that should quit the place, my own retreat being -secured by being so near the port.</p> - -<p>Having thus emptied the house of the inhabitants, we made no scruple -of filling our pockets with whatever we could find there. In a word, -we left nothing we could carry away, among which it came to my lot to -dip into the burgher’s cabinet whose house it was where we were, and -there I took about the quantity of two hundred pistoles in money and -plate, and other things of value. There was great complaint made to -Prince Vaudemont, who was then governor of the Milanese, of this -violence. But as the repulse the citizens gave us was contrary to his -order, and to the general design of the prince, who was then wholly in -the interest of King Philip, the citizens could obtain nothing; and I -found that if we had plundered the whole city it would have been the -same thing; for the governor had orders to take our regiment in, and -it was an act of open rebellion to resist us as they did. However, we -had orders not to fire upon the burghers, unless constrained to it by -evident necessity, and we rather chose to quit the place as we did -than dispute it with a desperate body of fellows, who wanted no -advantage of us, except only that of having possession of two bastions -and one port of our retreat. First, they were treble our number; for -the burghers, being joined by seven companies of the regular troops, -made up above sixteen hundred men, besides rabble, which was many -more, whereas we were about eight hundred in all; they also had the -citadel and several pieces of cannon, so that we could have made -nothing of it if we had attacked them. But they submitted three or -four days after to other forces, the soldiers within turning upon them -and taking the citadel from them.</p> - -<p>After this we lay still in quarters eight months. For the prince, -having secured the whole Milanese for King Philip, and no enemy -appearing for some time, had nothing to do but to receive the -auxiliary troops of France, and as they came, extend himself every way -as he could, in order to keep the imperialists (who were preparing to -fall into Italy with a great army) as much at a distance as possible, -which he did by taking possession of the city of Mantua, and of most -of the towns on that side, as far as the Lake De la Guarda and the -river Adige.</p> - -<p>We lay in Mantua some time, but were afterwards drawn out by order of -the Count de Tesse (afterwards Marshal of France), to form the French -army, till the arrival of the Duke de Vendôme, who was to command in -chief. Here we had a severe campaign, <i>anno</i> 1701, having Prince -Eugene of Savoy and an army of forty thousand Germans, all old -soldiers, to deal with; and though the French army was more numerous -than the enemy by twenty-five thousand men, yet, being on the -defensive, and having so many posts to cover, not knowing exactly -where the Prince of Savoy, who commanded the imperial army, would -attack us, it obliged the French to keep their troops so divided and -so remote from one another that the Germans pushed on their design -with great success, as the histories of those times more fully relate.</p> - -<p>I was at the action of Carpi, July 1701, where we were worsted by the -Germans; indeed, were forced to quit our encampment and give up to the -prince the whole river Adige, and where our regiment sustained some -loss. But the enemies got little by us, and Monsieur Catinat, who -commanded at that time, drew up in order of battle the next day in -sight of the German army, and gave them a defiance; but they would not -stir, though we offered them battle two days together; for, having -gained the passage over the Adige by our quitting Rivoli, which was -then useless to us, their business was done.</p> - -<p>Finding they declined a decisive action, our generals pressed them in -their quarters, and made them fight for every inch of ground they -gained; and at length, in the September following, we attacked them in -their intrenched posts of Chiar. Here we broke into the very heart of -their camp, where we made a very terrible slaughter. But I know not by -what mistake among our generals, or defect in the execution of their -orders, the brigade of Normandy and our Irish Brigade, who had so -bravely entered the German intrenchments, were not supported as we -should have been, so that we were obliged to sustain the shock of the -whole German army, and at last to quit the advantage we had gained, -and that not without loss; but, being timely reinforced by a great -body of horse, the enemy were in their turn beaten off too, and driven -back into their very camp. The Germans boasted of having a great -victory here, and indeed, in repulsing us after we had gained their -camp, they had the advantage. But had Monsieur de Tesse succoured us -in time, as old Catinat said he ought to have done, with twelve -thousand foot which he had with him, that day’s action had put an end -to the war, and Prince Eugene must have been glad to have gone back to -Germany in more haste than he came, if, perhaps, we had not cut him -short by the way.</p> - -<p>But the fate of things went another way, and the Germans continued all -that campaign to push forward and advance one post after another, till -they beat us quite out of the Milanese.</p> - -<p>The latter part of this campaign we made only a party war, the French, -according to their volatile temper, being every day abroad, either -foraging or surprising the enemy’s foragers, plundering or -circumventing the plunders of the other side. But they very often came -short home, for the Germans had the better of them on several -occasions; and indeed so many lost their lives upon these petty -encounters that I think, including those who died of distempers gotten -by hard service and bad quarters, lying in the field even till the -middle of December among rivers and bogs, in a country so full of -canals and rivers as that part of Italy is known to be; I say, we lost -more men, and so did the enemy also, than would have been lost in a -general decisive battle.</p> - -<p>The Duke of Savoy, to give him his due, pressed earnestly to put it to -a day and come to a battle with Prince Eugene; but the Duke de -Villeroi, Monsieur Catinat, and the Count de Tesse were all against -it; and the principal reason was, that they knew the weakness of the -troops, who had suffered so much on so many occasions that they were -in no condition to give battle to the Germans. So after, as I say, -about three months’ harassing one another with parties, we went into -winter quarters.</p> - -<p>Before we marched out of the field, our regiment, with a detachment of -dragoons of six hundred, and about two hundred and fifty horse, went -out with a design to intercept Prince Commercy, a general of note -under Prince Eugene of Savoy. The detachment was intended to be only -horse and dragoons; but because it was the imperialists’ good luck to -beat many of our parties, and, as was given out, many more than we -beat of theirs, and because it was believed that the prince, who was -an officer of good note among them, would not go abroad but in very -good company, the Irish regiment of foot was ordered to be added, -that, if possible, they might meet with their match.</p> - -<p>I was commanded, about two hours before, to pass about two hundred -foot and fifty dragoons at a small wood where our general had -intelligence that prince would post some men to secure his passage, -which accordingly I did. But Count Tesse, not thinking our party -strong enough, had marched himself, with a thousand horse and three -hundred grenadiers, to support us. And it was very well he did so; for -Prince Commercy, having intelligence of the first party, came forward -sooner than they expected, and fell upon them, and had entirely routed -them had not the Count, hearing the firing, advanced with the thousand -horse he had, with such expedition as to support his men in the very -heat of the action, by which means the Germans were defeated and -forced to retire. But the prince made a pretty good retreat, and after -the action came on to the wood where I was posted; but the surprise of -his defeat had prevented his sending a detachment to secure the pass -at the wood, as he intended.</p> - -<p>The Count de Tesse, understanding that we were sent, as above, to the -wood, followed them close at the heels, to prevent our being cut off, -and, if it were possible that we should give them any check at the -wood, to fall in and have another brush with them. It was near night -before they came to the wood, by which means they could not discern -our number. But when they came up to the wood, fifty dragoons advanced -to discover the pass and see if all was clear. These we suffered to -pass a great way into the defile, or lane, that went through the wood, -and then clapping in between them and the entrance, cut off their -retreat so effectually that when they discovered us and fired, they -were instantly surrounded and cut in pieces, the officers who -commanded them and eight dragoons only being made prisoners.</p> - -<p>This made the prince halt, not knowing what the case was or how strong -we were, and, to get better intelligence, sent two hundred horse to -surround or skirt the wood and beat up our quarter, and in the interim -the Count de Tesse appeared in his rear. We found the strait he was in -by the noise of our own troops at a distance; so we resolved to engage -the two hundred horse immediately. Accordingly our little troop of -horse drew up in the entrance of the lane and offered to skirmish, and -our foot, lying behind the hedge which went round the wood, stood -ready to act as occasion should offer. The horse, being attacked, gave -way, and retired into the lane; but the Germans were too old for us -there. They contented themselves to push us to the entrance, but would -not be drawn into a narrow pass without knowing whether the hedges -were lined or no.</p> - -<p>But the prince, finding the French in his rear, and not being strong -enough to engage again, resolved to force his way through, and -commanded his dragoons to alight and enter the wood, to clear the -hedges on either side the lane, that he might pass with his cavalry. -This they did so vigorously, and were so much too strong for us, that -though we made good our ground a long time, yet our men were almost -half of them cut in pieces. However, we gave time to the French -cavalry to come up, and to fall on the prince’s troops and cut them -off, and take a great many prisoners, and then we retreated in our -turn, opening a gap for our own horse to break in. Three hundred of -the dragoons were killed, and two hundred of them taken prisoners.</p> - -<p>In the first heat of this action, a German officer of dragoons, well -followed, had knocked down three men that stood next me; and, offering -me quarter, I was obliged to accept it, and gave him my sword; for our -men were upon the point of quitting their post and shifting every one -as they could. But the scale was turned, for our cavalry breaking in, -as above, the dragoons went to wreck, and the officer who had me -prisoner, turning to me, said, “We are all lost.” I asked him if I -could serve him. “Stand still a little,” says he; for his men fought -most desperately indeed. But about two hundred French horse appearing -in his rear too, he said to me in French, “I will be your prisoner,” -and returning me my sword, gave me also his own. A dragoon that stood -near him was just going to do the like, when he was shot dead, and the -horse coming up, the field was cleared in an instant. But Prince -Commercy went off with the rest of his party, and was pursued no -farther.</p> - -<p>There were sixteen or seventeen of our men released, as I was, from -being taken; but they had not the luck I had, to take the officer that -had them in keeping. He had been so generous to me as not to ask what -money I had about me, though I had not much if he had. But I lost by -his civility, for then I could not have the assurance to ask him for -his money, though I understood he had near a hundred pistoles about -him. But he very handsomely at night, when we came to our tents, made -me a present of twenty pistoles, and in return I obtained leave for -him to go to Prince Eugene’s camp upon his parole, which he did, and -so got himself exchanged.</p> - -<p>It was after this campaign that I was quartered at Cremona, when the -action happened there of which I have spoken already, and where our -Irish regiment did such service that they saved the town from being -really surprised, and indeed beat the Germans out again, after they -had been masters of three-quarters of the town six hours, and by which -they gained a very great reputation.</p> - -<p>But I hasten on to my own history, for I am not writing a journal of -the wars, in which I had no long share.</p> - -<p>The summer after this our two Irish regiments were drawn out into the -field, and had many a sore brush with the Germans; for Prince Eugene, -a vigilant general, gave us little rest, and gained many advantages by -his continual moving up and down, harassing his own men and ours too; -and whoever will do the French justice, and knew how they had behaved, -must acknowledge they never declined the Germans, but fought them upon -all occasions with the utmost resolution and courage; and though it -cost the blood of an infinite number of fine gentlemen, as well as -private soldiers, yet the Duke de Vendôme, who now commanded, though -King Philip was himself in the army this campaign, made the Prince of -Savoy a full return in his own kind, and drove him from post to post, -till he was just at the point of quitting the whole country of Italy. -All that gallant army Prince Eugene brought with him into Italy, which -was the best without doubt, for the goodness of the troops, that ever -were there, laid their bones in that country, and many thousands more -after them, till, the affairs of France declining in other places, -they were forced in their turn to give way to their fate, as may be -seen in the histories of those times, as above. But it is none of my -business.</p> - -<p>The part that I bore in these affairs was but short and sharp. We took -the field about the beginning of July 1702, and the Duke de Vendôme -ordered the whole army to draw the sooner together, in order to -relieve the city of Mantua, which was blocked up by the imperialists.</p> - -<p>Prince Eugene was a politic, and indeed a fortunate, prince, and had -the year before pushed our army upon many occasions. But his good -fortune began to fail him a little this year, for our army was not -only more numerous than his, but the duke was in the field before him; -and as the prince had held Mantua closely blocked up all the winter, -the duke resolved to relieve the town, cost what it would. As I said, -the duke was first in the field; the prince was in no condition to -prevent his raising the blockade by force; so he drew off his troops, -and leaving several strong bodies of troops to protect Bersello, which -the Duke de Vendôme threatened, and Borgo Fort, where his magazine -lay, he drew all the rest of his forces together, to make head against -us. By this time the king of Spain was come into the army, and the -Duke de Vendôme lay with about thirty-five thousand men near Luzara, -which he had resolved to attack, to bring Prince Eugene to a battle. -The Prince of Vaudemont lay intrenched with twenty thousand more at -Rivalto, behind Mantua, to cover the frontiers of Milan, and there was -near twelve thousand in Mantua itself; and Monsieur Pracontal lay with -ten thousand men just under the cannon of one of the forts which guard -the causeway which leads into the city of Mantua; so that, had all -these joined, as they would have done in a few days more, the prince -must have been put to his shifts, and would have had enough to do to -have maintained himself in Italy; for he was master of no one place in -the country that could have held out a formal siege of fifteen days’ -open trenches, and he knew all this very well; and therefore it seems, -while the Duke of Vendôme resolved, if possible, to bring him to a -battle, and to that end made dispositions to attack Luzara, we were -surprised to find, the 15th of June 1702, the whole imperial army -appeared in <i>battalia</i>, and in full march, to attack us.</p> - -<p>As it happened, our army was all marching in columns towards them, as -we had done for two days before; and I should have told you that, -three days before, the duke having noticed that General Visconti, with -three imperial regiments of horse and one of dragoons, was posted at -San-Victoria, on the Tessona, he resolved to attack them; and this -design was carried so secretly, that while Monsieur Visconti, though -our army was three leagues another way, was passing towards the -Modenese, he found himself unexpectedly attacked by six thousand horse -and dragoons of the French army. He defended himself very bravely for -near an hour; when, being overpowered, and finding he should be forced -into disorder, he sounded a retreat. But the squadrons had not faced -about to make their retreat scarce a quarter of an hour, when they -found themselves surrounded with a great body of infantry, who had -entirely cut off their retreat, except over the bridge of Tessona, -which being thronged with their baggage, they could neither get -backward or forward; so they thrust and tumbled over one another in -such a manner that they could preserve no kind of order; but abundance -fell into the river and were drowned, many were killed, and more taken -prisoners; so that, in a word, the whole three regiments of horse and -one of dragoons were entirely defeated.</p> - -<p>This was a great blow to the prince, because they were some of the -choicest troops of his whole army. We took about four hundred -prisoners, and all their baggage, which was a very considerable booty, -and about eight hundred horses; and no doubt these troops were very -much wanted in the battle that ensued on the 15th, as I have said. Our -army being in full march, as above, to attack Luzara, a party of -Germans appeared, being about six hundred horse, and in less than an -hour more their whole army, in order of battle.</p> - -<p>Our army formed immediately, and the duke posted the regiments as they -came up so much to their advantage that Prince Eugene was obliged to -alter his dispositions, and had this particular inconvenience upon his -hands, viz., to attack an army superior to his own, in all their most -advantageous posts; whereas, had he thought fit to have waited but one -day, we should have met him half-way. But this was owing to the pride -of the German generals, and their being so opinionated of the goodness -of their troops. The royal army was posted with the left to the great -river Po, on the other side of which the Prince of Vaudemont’s army -lay cannonading the intrenchments which the imperialists had made at -Borgo Fort; and hearing that there was like to be a general battle, he -detached twelve battalions and about a thousand horse, to reinforce -the royal army; all which, to our great encouragement, had time to -join the army, while Prince Eugene was making his new dispositions for -the attack. And yet it was the coming of these troops which caused -Prince Eugene to resolve to begin the fight, expecting to have come to -an action before they could come up. But he was disappointed in the -reason of fighting, and yet was obliged to fight too, which was an -error in the prince that it was too late to retrieve.</p> - -<p>It was five o’clock in the evening before he could bring up his whole -line to engage; and then, after having cannonaded us to no great -purpose for half-an-hour, his right, commanded by the Prince de -Commercy, attacked our left wing with great fury. Our men received -them so well and seconded one another so punctually that they were -repulsed with a very great slaughter; and the Prince de Commercy -being, unhappily for them, killed in the first onset, the regiments, -for want of orders, and surprised with the fall of so great a man, -were pushed into disorder, and one whole brigade was entirely broke.</p> - -<p>But their second line, advancing under General Herbeville, restored -things in the first. The battalions rallied, and they came boldly on -to charge a second time, and being seconded with new reinforcements -from their main body, our men had their turn, and were pushed to a -canal which lay on their left flank between them and the Po, behind -which they rallied; and being supported by new troops, as well horse -as foot, they fought on both sides with the utmost obstinacy, and with -such courage and skill that it was not possible to judge who should -have had the better could they have been able to have fought it out.</p> - -<p>On the right of the royal army was posted the flower of the French -cavalry—namely, the gendarmes, the royal carbineers, and the queen’s -horse-guards, with four hundred horse more—and next them the -infantry, among which were our brigade. The horse advanced first to -charge, and they carried all before them sword in hand, receiving the -fire of two imperial regiments of cuirassiers without firing a shot, -and falling in among them, bore them down by the strength of their -horses, putting them into confusion, and left so clear a field for us -to follow that the first line of our infantry stood drawn up upon the -ground which the enemy at first possessed.</p> - -<p>In this first attack the Marquis de Crequi, who commanded the whole -right wing, was killed—a loss which fully balanced the death of the -Prince de Commercy on the side of the Germans. After we had thus -pushed the enemy’s cavalry, as above, their troops, being rallied by -the dexterity of their generals and supported by three imperial -regiments of foot, came on again to the charge with such fury that -nothing could withstand them. And here two battalions of our Irish -regiments were put into disorder, and abundance of our men killed; and -here also I had the misfortune to receive a musket-shot, which broke -my left arm; and that was not all, for I was knocked down by a -giant-like German soldier, who, when he thought he had killed me, set -his foot upon me, but was immediately shot dead by one of my men, and -fell just upon me, which, my arm being broken, was a very great -mischief to me; for the very weight of the fellow, who was almost as -big as a horse, was such that I was not able to stir.</p> - -<p>Our men were beaten back after this from the place where they stood; -and so I was left in possession of the enemy, but was not their -prisoner—that is to say, was not found till next morning, when a -party being sent, as usual, with surgeons to look after the wounded -men among the dead, found me almost smothered with the dead Germans -and others that lay near me. However, to do them justice, they used me -with humanity, and the surgeons set my arm very skilfully and well; -and four or five days after, I had liberty to go to Parma upon parole.</p> - -<p>Both the armies continued fighting, especially on our left, till it -was so dark that it was impossible to know who they fired at, or for -the generals to see what they did; so they abated firing gradually, -and, as it may be truly said, the night parted them.</p> - -<p>Both sides claimed the victory, and both concealed their losses as -much as it was possible; but it is certain that never battle was -fought with greater bravery and obstinacy than this was; and had there -been daylight to have fought it out, doubtless there would have been -many thousand more men killed on both sides.</p> - -<p>All the Germans had to entitle them to the victory was, that they made -our left retire, as I have said, to the canal, and to the high banks -or mounds on the edge of the Po; but they had so much advantage in the -retreat—they fired from thence among the thickest of the enemy, and -could never be forced from their posts.</p> - -<p>The best testimony the royal army had of the victory, and which was -certainly the better of the two, was, that, two days after the fight, -they attacked Guastalia, as it were in view of the German army, and -forced the garrison to surrender, and to swear not to serve again for -six months, which, they being fifteen hundred men, was a great loss to -the Germans; and yet Prince Eugene did not offer to relieve it. And -after that we took several other posts which the imperialists had -possession of, but were obliged to quit them upon the approach of the -French army, not being in a condition to fight another battle that -year.</p> - -<p>My campaign was now at an end, and though I came lame off, I came off -much better than abundance of gentlemen; for in that bloody battle we -had above four hundred officers killed or wounded, whereof three were -general officers.</p> - -<p>The campaign held on till December, and the Duke de Vendôme took Borgo -Fort and several other places from the Germans, who, in short, lost -ground every day in Italy. I was a prisoner a great while, and there -being no cartel settled, Prince Eugene ordered the French prisoners to -be sent into Hungary, which was a cruelty that could not be reasonably -exercised on them. However, a great many, by that banishment, found -means to make their escape to the Turks, by whom they were kindly -received, and the French ambassador at Constantinople took care of -them, and shipped them back again into Italy at the king’s charge.</p> - -<p>But the Duke de Vendôme now took so many German prisoners that Prince -Eugene was tired of sending his prisoners to Hungary, and was obliged -to be at the charge of bringing some of them back again whom he had -sent thither, and come to agree to a general exchange of prisoners.</p> - -<p>I was, as I have said, allowed for a time to go to Parma upon my -parole, where I continued for the recovery of my wound and broken arm -forty days, and was then obliged to render myself to the commanding -officer at Ferrara, where Prince Eugene coming soon after, I was, with -several other prisoners of war, sent away into the Milanese, to be -kept for an exchange of prisoners.</p> - -<p>It was in the city of Trent that I continued about eight months. The -man in whose house I quartered was exceedingly civil to me, and took a -great deal of care of me, and I lived very easy. Here I contracted a -kind of familiarity, perfectly undesigned by me, with the daughter of -the burgher at whose house I had lodged, and, I know not by what -fatality that was upon me, I was prevailed with afterwards to marry -her. This was a piece of honesty on my side which I must acknowledge I -never intended to be guilty of; but the girl was too cunning for me, -for she found means to get some wine into my head more than I used to -drink, and though I was not so disordered with it but that I knew very -well what I did, yet in an unusual height of good humour I consented -to be married. This impolitic piece of honesty put me to many -inconveniences, for I knew not what to do with this clog which I had -loaded myself with. I could neither stay with her or take her with me, -so that I was exceedingly perplexed.</p> - -<p>The time came soon after that I was released by the cartel, and so was -obliged to go to my regiment, which then was in quarters in the -Milanese, and from thence I got leave to go to Paris, upon my promise -to raise some recruits in England for the Irish regiments, by the help -of my correspondence there. Having thus leave to go to Paris, I took a -passport from the enemy’s army to go to Trent, and making a long -circuit, I went back thither, and very honestly packed up my baggage, -wife and all, and brought her away through Tyrol into Bavaria, and so -through Suabia and the Black Forest into Alsatia; from thence I came -into Lorraine, and so to Paris.</p> - -<p>I had now a secret design to quit the war, for I really had had enough -of fighting. But it was counted so dishonourable a thing to quit while -the army was in the field that I could not dispense with it; but an -intervening accident made that part easy to me. The war was now -renewed between France and England and Holland, just as it was before; -and the French king, meditating nothing more than how to give the -English a diversion, fitted out a strong squadron of men-of-war and -frigates at Dunkirk, on board of which he embarked a body of troops of -about six thousand five hundred men, besides volunteers; and the new -king, as we called him, though more generally he was called the -Chevalier de St. George, was shipped along with them, and all for -Scotland.</p> - -<p>I pretended a great deal of zeal for this service, and that if I might -be permitted to sell my company in the Irish regiment I was in, and -have the chevalier’s brevet for a colonel, in case of raising troops -for him in Great Britain after his arrival, I would embark volunteer -and serve at my own expense. The latter gave me a great advantage with -the chevalier; for now I was esteemed as a man of consideration, and -one that must have a considerable interest in my own country. So I -obtained leave to sell my company, and having had a good round sum of -money remitted me from London, by the way of Holland, I prepared a -very handsome equipage, and away I went to Dunkirk to embark.</p> - -<p>I was very well received by the chevalier; and as he had an account -that I was an officer in the Irish brigade, and had served in Italy, -and consequently was an old soldier, all this added to the character -which I had before, and made me have a great deal of honour paid me, -though at the same time I had no particular attachment to his person -or to his cause. Nor indeed did I much consider the cause of one side -or other. If I had, I should hardly have risked, not my life only, but -effects too, which were all, as I might say, from that moment -forfeited to the English government, and were too evidently in their -power to confiscate at their pleasure.</p> - -<p>However, having just received a remittance from London of £300 -sterling, and sold my company in the Irish regiment for very near as -much, I was not only insensibly drawn in, but was perfectly volunteer -in that dull cause, and away I went with them at all hazards. It -belongs very little to my history to give an account of that fruitless -expedition, only to tell you that, being so closely and effectually -chased by the English fleet, which was superior in force to the -French, I may say that, in escaping them, I escaped being hanged.</p> - -<p>It was the good fortune of the French that they overshot the port they -aimed at, and intending for the Frith of Forth, or, as it is called, -the Frith of Edinburgh, the first land they made was as far north as a -place called Montrose, where it was not their business to land, and so -they were obliged to come back to the frith, and were gotten to the -entrance of it, and came to an anchor for the tide. But this delay or -hindrance gave time to the English, under Sir George Byng, to come to -the frith, and they came to an anchor, just as we did, only waiting to -go up the frith with the flood.</p> - -<p>Had we not overshot the port, as above, all our squadron had been -destroyed in two days, and all we could have done had been to have -gotten into the pier or haven at Leith with the smaller frigates, and -have landed the troops and ammunition; but we must have set fire to -the men-of-war, for the English squadron was not above twenty-four -hours behind us, or thereabout.</p> - -<p>Upon this surprise, the French admiral set sail from the north point -of the frith where we lay, and crowding away to the north, got the -start of the English fleet, and made their escape, with the loss of -one ship only, which, being behind the rest, could not get away.</p> - -<p>When we were satisfied the English left chasing us, which was not till -the third night, when we altered our course and lost sight of them, we -stood over to the coast of Norway, and keeping that shore on board all -the way to the mouth of the Baltic, we came to an anchor again, and -sent two scouts abroad to learn news, to see if the sea was clear; and -being satisfied that the enemy did not chase us, we kept on with an -easier sail, and came all back again 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 run in my head, concluding that, if I had been -taken, I should certainly have been hanged.</p> - -<p>But the care was now over. I took my leave of the chevalier, and of -the army, and made haste to Paris. I came so unexpectedly to Paris, -and to my own lodgings, that it was my misfortune to make a discovery -relating to my wife which was not at all to my satisfaction; for I -found her ladyship had kept some company that I had reason to believe -were not such as an honest woman ought to have conversed with, and as -I knew her temper by what I had found of her myself, I grew very -jealous and uneasy about her. I must own it touched me very nearly, -for I began to have an extraordinary value for her, and her behaviour -was very taking, especially after I had brought her into France; but -having a vein of levity, it was impossible to prevent her running into -such things in a town so full of what they call gallantry as Paris.</p> - -<p>It vexed me also to think that it should be my fate to be a cuckold -both abroad and at home, and sometimes I would be in such a rage about -it that I had no government of myself when I thought of it. Whole -days, and I may say sometimes whole nights, I spent musing and -considering what I should do to her, and especially what I should do -to the villain, whoever he was, that had thus abused and supplanted -me. Here indeed I committed murder more than once, or indeed than a -hundred times, in my imagination; and, as the devil is certainly an -apparent prompter to wickedness, if he is not the first mover of it in -our minds, he teased me night and day with proposals to kill my wife.</p> - -<p>This horrid project he carried up so high, by raising fierce thoughts -and fomenting the blood upon my contemplation of the word cuckold, -that, in short, I left debating whether I should murder her or no, as -a thing out of the question, and determined; and my thoughts were then -taken up only with the management how I should kill her, and how to -make my escape after I had done it.</p> - -<p>All this while I had no sufficient evidence of her guilt, neither had -I so much as charged her with it or let her know I suspected her, -otherwise than as she might perceive it in my conduct, and in the -change of my behaviour to her, which was such that she could not but -perceive that something troubled me. Yet she took no notice of it to -me, but received me very well, and showed herself to be glad of my -return. Nor did I find she had been extravagant in her expenses while -I was abroad. But jealousy, as the wise man says, is the wrath of a -man; her being so good a hussy at what money I had left her gave my -distempered fancy an opinion that she had been maintained by other -people, and so had had no occasion to spend.</p> - -<p>I must confess she had a difficult point here upon her, though she had -been really honest; for, as my head was prepossessed of her -dishonesty, if she had been lavish I should have said she had spent it -upon her gentlemen; and as she had been frugal, I said she had been -maintained by them. Thus, I say, my head was distempered; I believed -myself abused, and nothing could put it out of my thoughts night or -day.</p> - -<p>All this while it was not visibly broken out between us; but I was so -fully possessed with the belief of it that I seemed to want no -evidence, and I looked with an evil eye upon everybody that came near -her or that she conversed with. There was an officer of the Guards du -Corps that lodged in the same house with us, a very honest gentleman -and a man of quality. I happened to be in a little drawing-room -adjoining to a parlour where my wife sat at that time, and this -gentleman came into the parlour, which, as he was one of the family, -he might have done without offence; but he, not knowing that I was in -the drawing-room, sat down and talked with my wife. I heard every word -they said, for the door between us was open; nor could I say that -there passed anything between them but cursory discourse. They talked -of casual things, of a young lady, a burgher’s daughter of nineteen, -that had been married the week before to an advocate in the Parliament -of Paris, vastly rich, and about sixty-three; and of another, a widow -lady of fortune in Paris, that had married her deceased husband’s -<i>valet de chamber</i>; and of such casual matters, that I could find no -fault with her now at all.</p> - -<p>But it filled my head with jealous thoughts and fired my temper. Now I -fancied he used too much freedom with her, then that she used too much -freedom to him, and once or twice I was upon the point of breaking in -upon them and affronting them both, but I restrained myself. At length -he talked some thing merrily of the lady throwing away her maiden -head, as I understood it, upon an old man; but still it was nothing -indecent. But I, who was all on fire already, could bear it no longer, -but started up and came into the room, and catching at my wife’s -words, “Say you so, madam?” said I. “Was he too old for her?” and -giving the officer a look that I fancy was something akin to the face -on the sign called the Bull and Mouth, within Aldersgate, I went out -into the street.</p> - -<p>The marquis—so he was styled—a man of honour and of spirit too, took -it as I meant it, and followed me in a moment and “hemmed” after me in -the street; upon which I stopped, and he came up to me. “Sir,” said -he, “our circumstances are very unhappy in France, that we cannot do -ourselves justice here without the most severe treatment in the world. -But, come on it what will, you must explain yourself to me on the -subject of your behaviour just now.”</p> - -<p>I was a little cooled as to the point of my conduct to him in the very -few moments that had passed, and was very sensible that I was wrong to -him; and I said, therefore, to him, very frankly, “Sir, you are a -gentleman whom I know very well, and I have a very great respect for -you; but I had been disturbed a little about the conduct of my wife, -and were it your own case, what would you have done less?”</p> - -<p>“I am sorry for any dislike between you and your wife,” says he; “but -what is that to me? Can you charge me with any indecency to her, -except my talking so and so?” (at which he repeated the words); “and -as I knew you were in the next room and heard every word, and that all -the doors were open, I thought no man could have taken amiss so -innocent an expression.”</p> - -<p>“I could no otherwise take it amiss,” said I, “than as I thought it -implied a farther familiarity, and that you cannot expect should be -borne by any man of honour. However, sir,” said I, “I spoke only to my -wife. I said nothing to you, but gave you my hat as I passed you.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” said he, “and a look as full of rage as the devil. Are there no -words in such looks?”</p> - -<p>“I can say nothing to that,” said I, “for I cannot see my own -countenance; but my rage, as you call it, was at my wife, not at you.”</p> - -<p>“But hark you, sir,” said he, growing warm as I grew calm, “your anger -at your wife was for her discourse with me, and I think that concerns -me too, and I ought to resent it.”</p> - -<p>“I think not, sir,” said I; “nor, had I found you in bed with my wife, -would I have quarrelled with you; for if my wife will let you lie with -her, it is she is the offender. What have I to do with you? You could -not lie with her if she was not willing; and if she is willing to be a -whore, I ought to punish her; but I should have no quarrel with you. I -will lie with your wife if I can, and then I am even with you.”</p> - -<p>I spoke this all in good humour and in order to pacify him, but it -would not do; but he would have me give him satisfaction, as he called -it. I told him I was a stranger in the country, and perhaps should -find little mercy in their course of justice; that it was not my -business to fight any man in his vindicating his keeping company with -my wife, for that the injury was mine, in having a bad woman to deal -with; that there was no reason in the thing, that after any man should -have found the way into my bed, I, who am injured, should go and stake -my life upon an equal hazard against the man who has abused me.</p> - -<p>Nothing would prevail with this person to be quiet for all this; but I -had affronted him, and no satisfaction could be made him but that at -the point of the sword; so we agreed to go away together to Lisle, in -Flanders. I was now soldier enough not to be afraid to look a man in -the face, and as the rage at my wife inspired me with courage, so he -let fall a word that fired and provoked me beyond all patience; for, -speaking of the distrust I had of my wife, he said, unless I had good -information I ought not to suspect my wife. I told him, if I had good -information, I should be past suspicion. He replied, if he was the -happy man, that had so much of her favour, he would take care then to -put me past the suspicion. I gave him as rough an answer as he could -desire, and he returned in French, <i>“Nous verrons à Lisle</i>;” that is -to say, “We will talk further of it at Lisle.”</p> - -<p>I told him I did not see the benefit either to him or me of going so -far as Lisle to decide this quarrel, since now I perceived he was the -man I wanted; that we might decide this quarrel <i>au champ</i>, upon the -spot, and whoever had the fortune to fall the other might make his -escape to Lisle as well afterwards as before.</p> - -<p>Thus we walked on talking very ill-naturedly on both sides, and yet -very mannerly, till we came clear of the suburbs of Paris, on the way -to Charenton; when, seeing the way clear, I told him under those trees -was a very fit place for us, pointing to a row of trees adjoining to -Monsieur ——’s garden-wall. So we went thither, and fell to work -immediately. After some fencing he made a home-thrust at me, and run -me into my arm, a long slanting wound, but at the same time received -my point into his body, and soon after fell. He spoke some words -before he dropped; first he told me I had killed him; then he said he -had indeed wronged me, and as he knew it, he ought not to have fought -me. He desired I would make my escape immediately, which I did into -the city, but no farther, nobody, as I thought, having seen us -together. In the afternoon, about six hours after the action, -messengers brought news, one on the heels of another, that the marquis -was mortally wounded, and carried into a house at Charenton. That -account, saying he was not dead, surprised me a little, not doubting -but that, concluding I had made my escape, he would own who it was. -However, I discovered nothing of my concern, but, going up into my -chamber, I took out of a cabinet there what money I had, which indeed -was so much as I thought would be sufficient for my expenses. But -having an accepted bill for two thousand livres, I walked sedately to -a merchant who knew me, and got fifty pistoles of him upon my bill, -letting him know my business called me to England, and I would take -the rest of him when he had received it.</p> - -<p>Having furnished myself thus, I provided me a horse for my servant, -for I had one very good one of my own, and once more ventured home to -my lodging, where I heard again that the marquis was not dead. My wife -all this while covered her concern for the marquis so well that she -gave me no room to make any remark upon her; but she saw evidently the -marks of rage and deep resentment in my behaviour after some little -stay, and perceiving me making preparation for a journey, she said to -me, “Are you going out of town?” “Yes, madam,” says I, “that you may -have room to mourn for your friend the marquis;” at which she started, -and showed she was indeed in a most terrible fright, and making a -thousand crosses about herself, with a great many callings upon the -Blessed Virgin and her country saints, she burst out at last, “Is it -possible? Are you the man that has killed the marquis? Then you are -undone, and I too.”</p> - -<p>“You may, madam, be a loser by the marquis being killed; but I’ll take -care to be as little a loser by you as I can. ’Tis enough; the marquis -has honestly confessed your guilt, and I have done with you.” She -would have thrown herself into my arms, protesting her innocence, and -told me she would fly with me, and would convince me of her fidelity -by such testimonies as I could not but be satisfied with, but I thrust -her violently from me. “<i>Allez, infame!</i>” said I. “Go, infamous -creature, and take from me the necessity I should be under, if I -stayed, of sending you to keep company with your dear friend the -marquis.” I thrust her away with such force that she fell backward -upon the floor, and cried out most terribly, and indeed she had -reason, for she was very much hurt.</p> - -<p>It grieved me indeed to have thrust her away with such force, but you -must consider me now in the circumstances of a man enraged, and, as it -were, out of himself, furious and mad. However, I took her up from the -floor and laid her on the bed, and calling up her maid, bid her go and -take care of her mistress; and, going soon after out of doors, I took -horse and made the best of my way, not towards Calais or Dunkirk, or -towards Flanders, whither it might be suggested I was fled, and -whither they did pursue me the same evening, but I took the direct -road for Lorraine, and riding all night and very hard, I passed the -Maine the next day at night, at Chalons, and came safe into the Duke -of Lorraine’s dominions the third day, where I rested one day only to -consider what course to take; for it was still a most difficult thing -to pass any way, but that I should either be in the king of France’s -dominions or be taken by the French allies as a subject of France. But -getting good advice from a priest at Bar le Duc, who, though I did not -tell him the particulars of my case, yet guessed how it was, it being, -as he said, very usual for gentlemen in my circumstances to fly that -way;—upon this supposition, this kind <i>padre</i> got me a church pass; -that is to say, he made me a purveyor for the abbey of ——, and, as -such, got me a passport to go to Deux Ponts, which belonged to the -king of Sweden. Having such authority there, and the priest’s -recommendation to an ecclesiastic in the place, I got passports from -thence in the king of Sweden’s name to Cologne, and then I was -thoroughly safe. So, making my way to the Netherlands without any -difficulty, I came to the Hague, and from thence, though very -privately and by several names, I came to England. And thus I got -clear of my Italian wife—whore I should have called her; for, after I -had made her so myself, how should I expect any other of her?</p> - -<p>Being arrived at London, I wrote to my friend at Paris, but dated my -letters from the Hague, where I ordered him to direct his answers. The -chief business of my writing was to know if my bill was paid him, to -inquire if any pursuit was made after me, and what other news he had -about me or my wife, and particularly how it had fared with the -marquis.</p> - -<p>I received an answer in a few days, importing that he had received the -money on my bill, which he was ready to pay as I should direct; that -the marquis was not dead; “but,” said he, “you have killed him another -way, for he has lost his commission in the Guards, which was worth to -him twenty thousand livres, and he is yet a close prisoner in the -Bastile;” that pursuit was ordered after me upon suspicion; that they -had followed me to Amiens, on the road to Dunkirk, and to Chastean de -Cambresis, on the way to Flanders, but missing me that way, had given -it over; that the marquis had been too well instructed to own that he -had fought with me, but said that he was assaulted on the road, and -unless I could be taken, he would take his trial and come off for want -of proof; that my flying was a circumstance indeed that moved strongly -against him, because it was known that we had had some words that day, -and were seen to walk together, but that, nothing being proved on -either side, he would come off with the loss of his commission, which, -however, being very rich, he could bear well enough.</p> - -<p>As to my wife, he wrote me word she was inconsolable, and had cried -herself to death almost; but he added (very ill-natured indeed), -whether it was for me or for the marquis, that he could not determine. -He likewise told me she was in very bad circumstances and very low, so -that, if I did not take some care of her, she would come to be in very -great distress.</p> - -<p>The latter part of this story moved me indeed, for I thought, however -it was, I ought not to let her starve; and, besides, poverty was a -temptation which a woman could not easily withstand, and I ought not -to be the instrument to drive her to a horrid necessity of crime, if I -could prevent it.</p> - -<p>Upon this I wrote to him again to go to her, and talk with her, and -learn as much as he could of her particular circumstances; and that, -if he found she was really in want, and, particularly, that she did -not live a scandalous life, he should give her twenty pistoles, and -tell her, if she would engage to live retired and honestly, she should -have so much annually, which was enough to subsist her.</p> - -<p>She took the first twenty pistoles, but bade him tell me that I had -wronged her and unjustly charged her, and I ought to do her justice; -and I had ruined her by exposing her in such a manner as I had, having -no proof of my charge or ground for any suspicion; that, as to twenty -pistoles a year, it was a mean allowance to a wife that had travelled -over the world, as she had done with me, and the like; and so -expostulated with him to obtain forty pistoles a year of me, which I -consented to. But she never gave me the trouble of paying above one -year; for after that the marquis was so fond of her again that he took -her away to himself, and, as my friend wrote me word, had settled four -hundred crowns a year on her, and I never heard any more of her.</p> - -<p>I was now in London, but was obliged to be very retired and change my -name, letting nobody in the nation know who I was, except my merchant -by whom I corresponded with my people in Virginia; and particularly -with my tutor, who was now become the head manager of my affairs, and -was in very good circumstances himself also by my means. But he -deserved all I did or could do for him, for he was a most faithful -friend as well as servant, as ever man had, in that country at least.</p> - -<p>I was not the easiest man alive, in the retired, solitary manner I now -lived in; and I experienced the truth of the text, that “it is not -good for man to be alone,” for I was extremely melancholy and heavy, -and indeed knew not what to do with myself, particularly because I was -under some restraint, that I was too afraid to go abroad. At last I -resolved to go quite away, and go to Virginia again, and there live -retired as I could.</p> - -<p>But when I came to consider that part more narrowly, I could not -prevail with myself to live a private life. I had got a wandering kind -of taste, and knowledge of things begat a desire of increasing it, and -an exceeding delight I had in it, though I had nothing to do in the -armies or in war, and did not design ever to meddle with it again. Yet -I could not live in the world and not inquire what was doing in it; -nor could I think of living in Virginia, where I was to hear my news -twice a year, and read the public accounts of what was just then upon -the stocks, as the history of things past.</p> - -<p>This was my notion: I was now in my native country, where my -circumstances were easy, and though I had ill-luck abroad, for I -brought little money home with me, yet, by a little good management, I -might soon have money by me. I had nobody to keep but myself, and my -plantations in Virginia generally returned me from £400 to £600 a -year, one year above £700, and to go thither, I concluded, was to be -buried alive; so I put off all thoughts of it, and resolved to settle -somewhere in England where I might know everybody and nobody know me. -I was not long in concluding where to pitch, for as I spoke the French -tongue perfectly well, having been so many years among them, it was -easy for me to pass for a Frenchman. So I went to Canterbury, called -myself an Englishman among the French, and a Frenchman among the -English; and on that score was the more perfectly concealed, going by -the name of Monsieur Charnot with the French, and was called Mr. -Charnock among the English.</p> - -<p>Here indeed I lived perfectly incog. I made no particular acquaintance -so as to be intimate, and yet I knew everybody, and everybody knew me. -I discoursed in common, talked French with the Walloons, and English -with the English; and lived retired and sober, and was well enough -received by all sorts; but as I meddled with nobody’s business, so -nobody meddled with mine; I thought I lived pretty well.</p> - -<p>But I was not fully satisfied. A settled family life was the thing I -loved; had made two pushes at it, as you have heard, but with -ill-success; yet the miscarriage of what was past did not discourage -me at all, but I resolved to marry. I looked out for a woman as -suitable as I could, but always found some thing or other to shock my -fancy, except once a gentleman’s daughter of good fashion; but I met -with so many repulses of one kind or another that I was forced to give -it over; and indeed, though I might be said to be a lover in this -suit, and had managed myself so well with the young lady that I had no -difficulty left but what would soon have been adjusted, yet her father -was so difficult, made so many objections, was to-day not pleased one -way, to-morrow another, that he would stand by nothing that he himself -had proposed, nor could he be ever brought to be of the same mind two -days together; so that we at last put an end to the pretensions, for -she would not marry without her father’s consent, and I would not -steal her, and so that affair ended.</p> - -<p>I cannot say but I was a little vexed at the disappointment of -this, so I left the city of Canterbury and went to London in the -stage-coach. Here I had an odd scene presented as ever happened of its -kind.</p> - -<p>There was in the stage-coach a young woman and her maid. She was -sitting in a very melancholy posture, for she was in the coach before -me, and sighed most dreadfully all the way, and whenever her maid -spoke to her she burst out into tears. I was not long in the coach -with her but, seeing she made such a dismal figure, I offered to -comfort her a little, and inquired into the occasion of her -affliction. But she would not speak a word; but her maid, with a force -of crying too, said her master was dead, at which word the lady burst -out again into a passion of crying, and between mistress and maid this -was all I could get for the morning part of that day. When we came to -dine, I offered the lady, that seeing, I supposed, she would not dine -with the company, if she would please to dine with me, I would dine in -a separate room; for the rest of the company were foreigners. Her maid -thanked me in her mistresses name, but her mistress could eat nothing, -and desired to be private.</p> - -<p>Here, however, I had some discourse with the maid, from whom I learned -that the lady was wife to a captain of a ship, who was outward bound -to somewhere in the Straits—I think it was to Zante and Venice; that, -being gone no farther than the Downs, he was taken sick, and after -about ten days’ illness had died at Deal; that his wife, hearing of -his sickness, had gone to Deal to see him, and had come but just time -enough to see him die; had stayed there to bury him, and was now -coming to London in a sad, disconsolate condition indeed.</p> - -<p>I heartily pitied the young gentlewoman indeed, and said some things -to her in the coach to let her know I did so, which she gave no answer -to, but in civility now and then made a bow, but never gave me the -least opportunity to see her face, or so much as to know whether she -had a face or no, much less to guess what form of a face it was. It -was winter time, and the coach put up at Rochester, not going through -in a day, as was usual in summer; and a little before we came to -Rochester I told the lady I understood she had ate nothing to-day, -that such a course would but make her sick, and, doing her harm, could -do her deceased husband no good; and therefore I entreated her that, -as I was a stranger, and only offered a civility to her in order to -abate her severely afflicting herself, she would yield so far to -matters of ceremony as let us sup together as passengers; for, as to -the strangers, they did not seem to understand the custom or to desire -it.</p> - -<p>She bowed, but gave no answer; only, after pressing her by arguments, -which she could not deny was very civil and kind, she returned, she -gave me thanks, but she could not eat. “Well, madam,” said I, “do but -sit down; though you think you cannot eat, perhaps you may eat a bit. -Indeed you must eat, or you will destroy yourself at this rate of -living, and upon the road too; in a word, you will be sick indeed.” I -argued with her. The maid put in, and said, “Do, madam; pray try to -divert yourself a little.” I pressed her again, and she bowed to me -very respectfully, but still said, “No,” and she could not eat. The -maid continued to importune her, and said, “Dear madam, do. The -gentleman is a civil gentleman; pray, madam, do;” and then, turning to -me, said, “My mistress will, sir, I hope,” and seemed pleased, and -indeed was so.</p> - -<p>However, I went on to persuade her; and, taking no notice of what her -maid said, that I was a civil gentleman, I told her, “I am a stranger -to you, madam; but if I thought you were shy of me on any account, as -to civility, I will send my supper up to you in your own chamber, and -stay below myself.” She bowed then to me twice, and looked up, which -was the first time, and said she had no suspicion of that kind; that -my offer was so civil that she was as much ashamed to refuse it as she -should be ashamed to accept it, if she was where she was known; that -she thought I was not quite a stranger to her, for she had seen me -before; that she would accept my offer so far as to sit at table, -because I desired it; but she could not promise me to eat, and that -she hoped I would take the other as a constraint upon her, in return -to so much kindness.</p> - -<p>She startled me when she said she had seen me before; for I had not -the least knowledge of her, nor did I remember so much as to have -heard of her name; for I had asked her name of her maid; and indeed it -made me almost repent my compliment, for it was many ways essential to -me not to be known. However, I could not go back; and, besides, if I -was known, it was essentially necessary to me to know who it was that -knew me, and by what circumstances; so I went on with my compliment.</p> - -<p>We came to the inn but just before it was dark. I offered to hand my -widow out of the coach, and she could not decline it; but though her -hoods were not then much over her face, yet, being dark, I could see -little of her then. I waited on her then into the stairfoot, and led -her up the inn-stairs to a dining-room which the master of the house -offered to show us, as if for the whole company; but she declined -going in there, and said she desired rather to go directly to her -chamber, and turning to her maid, bade her speak to the innkeeper to -show her to her lodging-room. So I waited on her to the door, and took -my leave, telling her I would expect her at supper.</p> - -<p>In order to treat her moderately well, and not extravagantly, for I -had no thoughts of anything farther than civility, which was the -effect of mere compassion for the unhappiness of the most truly -disconsolate woman that I ever met with; I say, in order to treat her -handsomely, but not extravagantly, I provided what the house afforded, -which was a couple of partridges and a very good dish of stewed -oysters. They brought us up afterwards a neat’s tongue and a ham that -was almost cut quite down, but we ate none of it; for the other was -fully enough for us both, and the maid made her supper off the oysters -we had left, which were enough.</p> - -<p>I mention this because it should appear I did not treat her as a -person I was making any court to, for I had nothing of that in my -thoughts; but merely in pity to the poor woman, who I saw in a -circumstance that was indeed very unhappy.</p> - -<p>When I gave her maid notice that supper was ready, she fetched her -mistress, coming in before her with a candle in her hand, and then it -was that I saw her face, and being in her dishabille, she had no hood -over her eyes or black upon her head, when I was truly surprised to -see one of the most beautiful faces upon earth. I saluted her, and led -her to the fireside, the table, though spread, being too far from the -fire, the weather being cold.</p> - -<p>She was now something sociable, though very grave, and sighed often on -account of her circumstances. But she so handsomely governed her -grief, yet so artfully made it mingle itself with all her discourse, -that it added exceedingly to her behaviour, which was every way most -exquisitely genteel. I had a great deal of discourse with her, and -upon many subjects, and by degrees took her name, that is to say, from -herself, as I had done before from her maid; also the place where she -lived, viz., near Ratcliff, or rather Stepney, where I asked her leave -to pay her a visit when she thought fit to admit company, which she -seemed to intimate would not be a great while.</p> - -<p>It is a subject too surfeiting to entertain people with the beauty of -a person they will never see. Let it suffice to tell them she was the -most beautiful creature of her sex that I ever saw before or since; -and it cannot be wondered if I was charmed with her the very first -moment I saw her face. Her behaviour was likewise a beauty in itself, -and was so extraordinary that I cannot say I can describe it.</p> - -<p>The next day she was much more free than she was the first night, and -I had so much conversation as to enter into particulars of things on -both sides; also she gave me leave to come and see her house, which, -however, I did not do under a fortnight or thereabouts, because I did -not know how far she would dispense with the ceremony which it was -necessary to keep up at the beginning of the mourning.</p> - -<p>However, I came as a man that had business with her, relating to the -ship her husband was dead out of, and the first time I came was -admitted; and, in short, the first time I came I made love to her. She -received that proposal with disdain. I cannot indeed say she treated -me with any disrespect, but she said she abhorred the offer, and would -hear no more of it. How I came to make such a proposal to her I scarce -knew then, though it was very much my intention from the first.</p> - -<p>In the meantime I inquired into her circumstances and her character, -and heard nothing but what was very agreeable of them both; and, above -all, I found she had the report of the best-humoured lady and the -best-bred of all that part of the town; and now I thought I had found -what I had so often wished for to make me happy and had twice -miscarried in, and resolved not to miss her, if it was possible to -obtain her.</p> - -<p>It came indeed a little into my thoughts that I was a married man, and -had a second wife alive, who, though she was false to me and a whore, -yet I was not legally divorced from her, and that she was my wife for -all that. But I soon got over that part; for, first, as she was a -whore, and the marquis had confessed it to me, I was divorced in law, -and I had a power to put her away. But having had the misfortune of -fighting a duel, and being obliged to quit the country, I could not -claim the legal process which was my right, and therefore might -conclude myself as much divorced as if it had been actually done, and -so that scruple vanished.</p> - -<p>I suffered now two months to run without pressing my widow any more, -only I kept a strict watch to find if any one else pretended to her. -At the end of two months I visited her again, when I found she -received me with more freedom, and we had no more sighs and sobs about -the last husband; and though she would not let me press my former -proposal so far as I thought I might have done, yet I found I had -leave to come again, and it was the article of decency which she stood -upon as much as anything; that I was not disagreeable to her, and that -my using her so handsomely upon the road had given me a great -advantage in her favour.</p> - -<p>I went on gradually with her, and gave her leave to stand off for two -months more. But then I told her the matter of decency, which was but -a ceremony, was not to stand in competition with the matter of -affection; and, in short, I could not bear any longer delay, but that, -if she thought fit, we might marry privately; and, to cut the story -short, as I did my courtship, in about five months I got her in the -mind, and we were privately married, and that with so very exact a -concealment that her maid, that was so instrumental in it, yet had no -knowledge of it for near a month more.</p> - -<p>I was now, not only in my imagination, but in reality, the most happy -creature in the world, as I was so infinitely satisfied with my wife, -who was indeed the best-humoured woman in the world, a most -accomplished, beautiful creature indeed, perfectly well-bred, and had -not one ill quality about her; and this happiness continued without -the least interruption for about six years.</p> - -<p>But I, that was to be the most unhappy fellow alive in the article of -matrimony, had at last a disappointment of the worst sort even here. I -had three fine children by her, and in her time of lying-in with the -last she got some cold, that she did not in a long time get off; and, -in short, she grew very sickly. In being so continually ill and out of -order, she very unhappily got a habit of drinking cordials and hot -liquors. Drink, like the devil, when it gets hold of any one, though -but a little, it goes on by little and little to their destruction. So -in my wife, her stomach being weak and faint, she first took this -cordial, then that, till, in short, she could not live without them, -and from a drop to a sup, from a sup to a dram, from a dram to a -glass, and so on to two, till at last she took, in short, to what we -call drinking.</p> - -<p>As I likened drink to the devil, in its gradual possession of the -habits and person, so it is yet more like the devil in its -encroachment on us, where it gets hold of our senses. In short, my -beautiful, good-humoured, modest, well-bred wife grew a beast, a slave -to strong liquor, and would be drunk at her own table—nay, in her own -closet by herself, till, instead of a well-made, fine shape, she was -as fat as a hostess; her fine face, bloated and blotched, had not so -much as the ruins of the most beautiful person alive—nothing remained -but a good eye; that indeed she held to the last. In short, she lost -her beauty, her shape, her manners, and at last her virtue; and, -giving herself up to drinking, killed herself in about a year and a -half after she first began that cursed trade, in which time she twice -was exposed in the most scandalous manner with a captain of a ship, -who, like a villain, took the advantage of her being in drink and not -knowing what she did. But it had this unhappy effect, that instead of -her being ashamed and repenting of it when she came to herself, it -hardened her in the crime, and she grew as void of modesty at last as -of sobriety.</p> - -<p>Oh, the power of intemperance! and how it encroaches on the best -dispositions in the world; how it comes upon us gradually and -insensibly; and what dismal effects it works upon our morals, changing -the most virtuous, regular, well-instructed, and well-inclined tempers -into worse than brutal! That was a good story, whether real or -invented, of the devil tempting a young man to murder his father. No, -he said; that was unnatural. “Why, then,” says the devil, “go and lie -with your mother.” “No,” says he; “that is abominable.” “Well, then,” -says the devil, “if you will do nothing else to oblige me, go and get -drunk.” “Ay, ay,” says the fellow, “I will do that.” So he went and -made himself drunk as a swine, and when he was drunk, he murdered his -father and lay with his mother.</p> - -<p>Never was a woman more virtuous, modest, chaste, sober; she never so -much as desired to drink any thing strong; it was with the greatest -entreaty that I could prevail with her to drink a glass or two of -wine, and rarely, if ever, above one or two at a time; even in company -she had no inclination to it. Not an immodest word ever came out of -her mouth, nor would she suffer it in any one else in her hearing -without resentment and abhorrence. But upon that weakness and illness -after her last lying-in, as above, the nurse pressed her, whenever she -found herself faint and a sinking of her spirits, to take this cordial -and that dram, to keep up her spirits, till it became necessary even -to keep her alive, and gradually increased to a habit, so that it was -no longer her physic but her food. Her appetite sunk and went quite -away, and she ate little or nothing, but came at last to such a -dreadful height that, as I have said, she would be drunk in her own -dressing-room by eleven o’clock in the morning, and, in short, at last -was never sober.</p> - -<p>In this life of hellish excess, as I have said, she lost all that was -before so valuable in her, and a villain, if it be proper to call a -man who was really a gentleman by such a name, who was an intimate -acquaintance, coming to pretend a visit to her, made her and her maid -so drunk together that he lay with them both; with the mistress, the -maid being in the room, and with the maid, the mistress being in the -room; after which he, it seems, took the like liberty with them both -as often as he thought fit, till the wench, being with child, -discovered it for herself, and for her mistress too. Let any one judge -what was my case now. I, that for six years thought myself the -happiest man alive, was now the most miserable, distracted creature. -As to my wife, I loved her so well, and was so sensible of the -disaster of her drinking being the occasion of it all, that I could -not resent it to such a degree as I had done in her predecessor; but I -pitied her heartily. However, I put away all her servants, and almost -locked her up; that is to say, I set new people over her, who would -not suffer any one to come near her without my knowledge.</p> - -<p>But what to do with the villain that had thus abused both her and me, -that was the question that remained. To fight him upon equal terms, I -thought, was a little hard; that after a man had treated me as he had -done, he deserved no fair play for his life. So I resolved to wait for -him in Stepney fields, and which way he often came home pretty late, -and pistol him in the dark, and, if possible, to let him know what I -killed him for before I did it. But when I came to consider of this, -it shocked my temper too as well as principle, and I could not be a -murderer, whatever else I could be, or whatever I was provoked to be.</p> - -<p>However, I resolved, on the other hand, that I would severely correct -him for what he had done, and it was not long before I had an -opportunity; for, hearing one morning that he was walking across the -fields from Stepney to Shadwell, which way I knew he often went, I -waited for his coming home again, and fairly met him.</p> - -<p>I had not many words with him, but told him I had long looked for him; -that he knew the villainy he had been guilty of in my family, and he -could not believe, since he knew also that I was fully informed of it, -but that I must be a great coward, as well as a cuckold, or that I -would resent it, and that it was now a very proper time to call him to -an account for it; and therefore bade him, if he durst show his face -to what he had done, and defend the name of a captain of a man-of-war, -as they said he had been, to draw.</p> - -<p>He seemed surprised at the thing, and began to parley, and would -lessen the crime of it; but I told him it was not a time to talk that -way, since he could not deny the fact; and to lessen the crime was to -lay it the more upon the woman, who, I was sure, if he had not first -debauched with wine, he could never have brought to the rest; and, -seeing he refused to draw, I knocked him down with my cane at one -blow, and I would not strike him again while he lay on the ground, but -waited to see him recover a little; for I saw plainly he was not -killed. In a few minutes he came to himself again, and then I took him -fast by one wrist, and caned him as severely as I was able, and as -long as I could hold it for want of breath, but forbore his head, -because I was resolved he should feel it. In this condition at last he -begged for mercy, but I was deaf to all pity a great while, till he -roared out like a boy soundly whipped. Then I took his sword from him -and broke it before his face, and left him on the ground, giving him -two or three kicks on the backside, and bade him go and take the law -of me if he thought fit.</p> - -<p>I had now as much satisfaction as indeed could be taken of a coward, -and had no more to say to him; but as I knew it would make a great -noise about the town, I immediately removed my family, and, that I -might be perfectly concealed, went into the north of England, and -lived in a little town called ——, not far from Lancaster, where I -lived retired, and was no more heard of for about two years. My wife, -though more confined than she used to be, and so kept up from the lewd -part which, I believe, in the intervals of her intemperance, she was -truly ashamed of and abhorred, yet retained the drinking part, which -becoming, as I have said, necessary for her subsistence, she soon -ruined her health, and in about a year and a half after my removal -into the north she died.</p> - -<p>Thus I was once more a free man, and, as one would think, should by -this time have been fully satisfied that matrimony was not appointed -to be a state of felicity to me.</p> - -<p>I should have mentioned that the villain of a captain who I had -drubbed, as above, pretended to make a great stir about my assaulting -him on the highway, and that I had fallen upon him with three -ruffians, with an intent to murder him; and this began to obtain -belief among the people in the neighbourhood. I sent him word of so -much of it as I had heard, and told him I hoped it did not come from -his own mouth; but if it did, I expected he would publicly disown it, -he himself declaring he knew it to be false, or else I should be -forced to act the same thing over again, till I had disciplined him -into better manners; and that he might be assured that if he continued -to pretend that I had anybody with me when I caned him, I would -publish the whole story in print, and, besides that, would cane him -again wherever I met him, and as often as I met him, till he thought -fit to defend himself with his sword like a gentleman.</p> - -<p>He gave me no answer to this letter; and the satisfaction I had for -that was, that I gave twenty or thirty copies of it about among the -neighbours, which made it as public as if I had printed it (that -is, as to his acquaintance and mine), and made him so hissed at -and hated that he was obliged to remove into some other part of the -town—whither I did not inquire.</p> - -<p>My wife being now dead, I knew not what course to take in the world, -and I grew so disconsolate and discouraged that I was next door to -being distempered, and sometimes, indeed, I thought myself a little -touched in my head. But it proved nothing but vapours and the vexation -of this affair, and in about a year’s time, or thereabouts, it wore -off again.</p> - -<p>I had rambled up and down in a most discontented, unsettled posture -after this, I say, about a year, and then I considered I had three -innocent children, and I could take no care of them, and that I must -either go away and leave them to the wide world or settle here and get -somebody to look after them, and that better a mother-in-law than no -mother; for to live such a wandering life it would not do; so I -resolved I would marry as anything offered, though it was mean, and -the meaner the better. I concluded my next wife should be only taken -as an upper servant; that is to say, a nurse to my children and -housekeeper to myself; “and let her be whore or honest woman,” said I, -“as she likes best; I am resolved I will not much concern myself about -that;” for I was now one desperate, that valued not how things went.</p> - -<p>In this careless, and indeed rash, foolish humour, I talked to myself -thus: “If I marry an honest woman, my children will be taken care of; -if she be a slut and abuses me, as I see everybody does, I will kidnap -her and send her to Virginia, to my plantations there, and there she -shall work hard enough and fare hard enough to keep her chaste, I’ll -warrant her.”</p> - -<p>I knew well enough at first that these were mad, hare-brained notions, -and I thought no more of being serious in them than I thought of being -a man in the moon; but I know not how it happened to me, I reasoned -and talked to myself in this wild manner so long that I brought myself -to be seriously desperate; that is, to resolve upon another marriage, -with all the suppositions of unhappiness that could be imagined to -fall out.</p> - -<p>And yet even this rash resolution of my senses did not come -presently to action; for I was half a year after this before I fixed -upon anything. At last, as he that seeks mischief shall certainly find -it, so it was with me. There happened to be a young, or rather a -middle-aged, woman in the next town, which was but a half-mile off, -who usually was at my house and among my children every day when the -weather was tolerable; and though she came but merely as a neighbour, -and to see us, yet she was always helpful in directing and ordering -things for them, and mighty handy about them, as well before my wife -died as after.</p> - -<p>Her father was one that I employed often to go to Liverpool, and -sometimes to Whitehaven, and do business for me; for having, as it -were, settled myself in the northern parts of England, I had ordered -part of my effects to be shipped, as occasion of shipping offered, to -either of those two towns, to which, the war continuing very sharp, it -was safer coming, as to privateers, than about through the Channel to -London.</p> - -<p>I took a mighty fancy at last that this girl would answer my end, -particularly that I saw she was mighty useful among the children; so, -on the other hand, the children loved her very well, and I resolved to -love her too, flattering myself mightily, that as I had married two -gentlewomen and one citizen, and they proved all three whores, I -should now find what I wanted in an innocent country wench.</p> - -<p>I took up a world of time in considering of this matter; indeed scarce -any of my matches were done without very mature consideration. The -second was the worst in that article, but in this I thought of it, I -believe, four months most seriously before I resolved, and that very -prudence spoiled the whole thing. However, at last being resolved, I -took Mrs. Margaret one day as she passed by my parlour-door, called -her in, and told her I wanted to speak with her. She came readily in, -but blushed mightily when I bade her sit down in a chair just by me.</p> - -<p>I used no great ceremony with her, but told her that I had observed -she had been mighty kind to my children, and was very tender to them, -and that they all loved her, and that, if she and I could agree about -it, I intended to make her their mother, if she was not engaged to -somebody else. The girl sat still and said never a word till I said -those words, “if she was not engaged to somebody else;” when she -seemed struck. However, I took no notice of it, other than this, “Look -ye, Moggy,” said I (so they call them in the country), “if you have -promised yourself, you must tell me.” For we all knew that a young -fellow, a good clergyman’s wicked son, had hung about her a great -while, two or three years, and made love to her, but could never get -the girl in the mind, it seems, to have him.</p> - -<p>She knew I was not ignorant of it, and therefore, after her first -surprise was over, she told me Mr. —— had, as I knew, often come -after her, but she had never promised him anything, and had for -several years refused him; her father always telling her that he was a -wicked fellow, and that he would be her ruin if she had him.</p> - -<p>“Well, Moggy, then,” says I, “what dost say to me? Art thou free to -make me a wife?” She blushed and looked down upon the ground, and -would not speak a good while; but when I pressed her to tell me, she -looked up, and said she supposed I was but jesting with her. Well, I -got over that, and told her I was in very good earnest with her, and I -took her for a sober, honest, modest girl, and, as I said, one that my -children loved mighty well, and I was in earnest with her; if she -would give me her consent, I would give her my word that I would have -her, and we would be married to-morrow morning. She looked up again at -that, and smiled a little, and said no, that was too soon too to say -yes. She hoped I would give her some time to consider of it, and to -talk with her father about it.</p> - -<p>I told her she needed not much time to consider about it; but, -however, I would give her till to-morrow morning, which was a great -while. By this time I had kissed Moggy two or three times, and she -began to be freer with me; and when I pressed her to marry me the next -morning, she laughed, and told me it was not lucky to be married in -her old clothes.</p> - -<p>I stopped her mouth presently with that, and told her she should not -be married in her old clothes, for I would give her some new. “Ay, it -may be afterwards,” says Moggy, and laughed again. “No, just now,” -says I. “Come along with me, Moggy;” so I carried her upstairs into my -wife’s room that was, and showed her a new morning-gown of my wife’s, -that she had never worn above two or three times, and several other -fine things. “Look you there, Moggy,” says I, “there is a wedding-gown -for you; give me your hand now that you will have me to-morrow -morning. And as to your father, you know he has gone to Liverpool on -my business, but I will answer for it he shall not be angry when he -comes home to call his master son-in-law; and I ask him no portion. -Therefore give me thy hand for it, Moggy,” says I very merrily to her, -and kissed her again; and the girl gave me her hand, and very -pleasantly too, and I was mightily pleased with it, I assure you.</p> - -<p>There lived about three doors from us an ancient gentleman who passed -for a doctor of physic, but who was really a Romish priest in orders, -as there are many in that part of the country; and in the evening I -sent to speak with him. He knew that I understood his profession, and -that I had lived in popish countries, and, in a word, believed me a -Roman too, for I was such abroad. When he came to me I told him the -occasion for which I sent for him, and that it was to be to-morrow -morning. He readily told me, if I would come and see him in the -evening, and bring Moggy with me, he would marry us in his own study, -and that it was rather more private to do it in the evening than in -the morning. So I called Moggy again to me, and told her, since she -and I had agreed the matter for to-morrow, it was as well to be done -overnight, and told her what the doctor had said.</p> - -<p>Moggy blushed again, and said she must go home first, that she could -not be ready before to-morrow. “Look ye, Moggy,” says I, “you are my -wife now, and you shall never go away from me a maid. I know what you -mean; you would go home to shift you. Come, Moggy,” says I, “come -along with me again upstairs.” So I carried her to a chest of linen, -where were several new shifts of my last wife’s, which she had never -worn at all, and some that had been worn.</p> - -<p>“There is a clean smock for you, Moggy,” says I, “and to-morrow you -shall have all the rest.” When I had done this, “Now, Moggy,” says I, -“go and dress you;” so I locked her in, and went downstairs. “Knock,” -says I, “when you are dressed.”</p> - -<p>After some time Moggy did not knock, but down she came into my room, -completely dressed, for there were several other things that I bade -her take, and the clothes fitted her as if they had been made for her. -It seems she slipped the lock back.</p> - -<p>“Well, Moggy,” says I, “now you see you shan’t be married in your old -clothes;” so I took her in my arms and kissed her; and well pleased I -was as ever I was in my life, or with anything I ever did in my life. -As soon as it was dark Moggy slipped away beforehand, as the doctor -and I had agreed, to the old gentleman’s housekeeper, and I came in -about half-an-hour after; and there we were married in the doctor’s -study—that is to say, in his oratory or chapel, a little room within -his study—and we stayed and supped with him afterwards.</p> - -<p>Then, after a short stay more, I went home first, because I would send -the children all to bed, and the other servants out of the way; and -Moggy came some time after, and so we lay together that night. The -next morning I let all the family know that Moggy was my wife, and my -three children were rejoiced at it to the last degree. And now I was a -married man a fourth time; and, in short, I was really more happy in -this plain country girl than with any of all the wives I had had. She -was not young, being about thirty-three, but she brought me a son the -first year. She was very pretty, well-shaped, and of a merry, cheerful -disposition, but not a beauty. She was an admirable family manager, -loved my former children, and used them not at all the worse for -having some of her own. In a word, she made me an excellent wife, but -lived with me but four years, and died of a hurt she got of a fall -while she was with child, and in her I had a very great loss indeed.</p> - -<p>And yet such was my fate in wives, that, after all the blushing and -backwardness of Mrs. Moggy at first, Mrs. Moggy had, it seems, made a -slip in her younger days, and was got with child ten years before, by -a gentleman of a great estate in that country, who promised her -marriage, and afterwards deserted her. But as that had happened long -before I came into the country, and the child was dead and forgotten, -the people were so good to her, and so kind to me, that, hearing I had -married her, nobody ever spoke of it; neither did I ever hear of it or -suspect it till after she was in her grave, and then it was of small -consequence to me one way or other; and she was a faithful, virtuous, -obliging wife to me. I had very severe affliction indeed while she -lived with me; for the smallpox, a frightful distemper in that -country, broke into my family, and carried off three of my children -and a maid-servant; so that I had only one of my former wife’s, and -one by my Moggy, the first a son, the last a daughter.</p> - -<p>While these things were in agitation came on the invasion of the Scots -and the fight at Preston; and I have cause to bless the memory of my -Moggy; for I was all on fire on that side, and just going away with -horse and arms to join the Lord Derwentwater. But Moggy begged me off -(as I may call it), and hung about me so with her tears and -importunities that I sat still and looked on; for which I had reason -to be thankful.</p> - -<p>I was really a sorrowful father, and the loss of my children stuck -close to me; but the loss of my wife stuck closer to me than all the -rest. Nor was my grief lessened or my kindest thoughts abated in the -least by the account I heard of her former miscarriages, seeing they -were so long before I knew her, and were not discovered by me or to me -in her lifetime.</p> - -<p>All these things put together made me very comfortless. And now I -thought Heaven summoned me to retire to Virginia, the place, and, as I -may say, the only place, I had been blessed at, or had met with -anything that deserved the name of success in, and where, indeed, my -affairs being in good hands, the plantations were increased to such a -degree that some years my return here made up eight hundred pounds, -and one year almost a thousand. So I resolved to leave my native -country once more, and taking my son with me, and leaving Moggy’s -daughter with her grandfather, I made him my principal agent, left him -considerable in his hands for the maintenance of the child, and left -my will in his hand, by which, if I died before I should otherwise -provide for her, I left her £2000 portion, to be paid by my son out of -the estate I had in Virginia, and the whole estate, if he died -unmarried.</p> - -<p>I embarked for Virginia in the year ——, at the town of Liverpool, -and had a tolerable voyage thither, only that we met with a pirate -ship, in the latitude of 48 degrees, who plundered us of every thing -they could come at that was for their turn; that is to say, -provisions, ammunition, small-arms, and money. But, to give the rogues -their due, though they were the most abandoned wretches that were ever -seen, they did not use us ill. And as to my loss, it was not -considerable; the cargo which I had on board was in goods, and was of -no use to them; nor could they come at those things without rummaging -the whole ship, which they did not think worth their while.</p> - -<p>I found all my affairs in very good order at Virginia, my plantations -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.</p> - -<p>I ought to remember it, to the encouragement of all faithful servants, -that he gave me an account, which, I believe, was critically just, of -the whole affairs of the plantations, each by themselves, and balanced -in years, every year’s produce being fully transmitted, charges -deducted, to my order at London.</p> - -<p>I was exceedingly satisfied, as I had good reason indeed, with his -management; and with his management, as much in its degree, of his own -I can safely say it. He had improved a very large plantation of his -own at the same time, which he began upon the foot of the country’s -allowance of land and the encouragement he had from me.</p> - -<p>When he had given me all this pleasing, agreeable account, you will -not think it strange that I had a desire to see the plantations, and -to view all the servants, which, in both the works, were upwards of -three hundred; and as my tutor generally bought some every fleet that -came from England, 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 slavery, which to -gentlemen must be worse than death.</p> - -<p>I do not mention what I did or said relating to them here. I shall -speak at large of it when the rest of them came over, which more -nearly concerned me.</p> - -<p>But one circumstance occurred to me here that equally surprised me and -terrified me to the last degree. Looking over all the servants, as I -say above, and viewing the plantations narrowly and frequently, I came -one day by a place where some women were at work by themselves. I was -seriously reflecting on the misery of human life, when I saw some of -those poor wretches. Thought I, “They have perhaps lived gay and -pleasantly in the world, notwithstanding, through a variety of -distresses, they may have been brought to this; and if a body was to -hear the history of some of them now, it would perhaps be as moving -and as seasonable a sermon as any minister in the country could -preach.”</p> - -<p>While I was musing thus and looking at the women, on a sudden I heard -a combustion among other of the women-servants, who were almost behind -me, in the same work, and help was called loudly for, one of the women -having swooned away. They said she would die immediately if something -was not done to relieve her. I had nothing about me but a little -bottle, which we always carried about us there with rum, to give any -servant a dram that merited that favour; so I turned my horse and went -up towards the place. But as the poor creature was lying flat on the -ground, and the rest of the women-servants about her, I did not see -her, but gave them the bottle, and they rubbed her temples with it, -and, with much ado, brought her to life, and gave her a little to -drink. But she could drink none of it, and was exceeding ill -afterwards, so that she was carried to the infirmary—so they call it -in the religious houses in Italy where the sick nuns and friars are -carried; but here, in Virginia, I think they should call it the -condemned hole, for it really was only a place just fit for people to -die in, not a place to be cured in.</p> - -<p>The sick woman refusing to drink, one of the women-servants brought me -the bottle again, and I bade them drink it among them, which had -almost set them together by the ears for the liquor, there being not -enough to give every one a sup.</p> - -<p>I went home to my house immediately, and reflecting on the miserable -provision was wont to be made for poor servants when they were sick, I -inquired of my manager if it was so still. He said he believed mine -was better than any in the country; but he confessed it was but sad -lodging. However, he said he would go and look after it immediately -and see how it was.</p> - -<p>He came to me again about an hour after, and told me the woman was -very ill, and frighted with her condition; that she seemed to be very -penitent for some things in her past life, which lay heavy upon her -mind, believing she should die; that she asked him if there was no -minister to comfort poor dying servants; and he told her that she knew -they had no minister nearer than such a place, but that, if she lived -till morning, he should be sent for. He told me, also, that he had -removed her into a room where their chief workman used to lodge; that -he had given her a pair of sheets, and everything he could that he -thought she wanted, and had appointed another woman-servant to tend -her and sit up with her.</p> - -<p>“Well,” says I, “that’s well; for I cannot bear to have poor creatures -lie and perish, by the mere hardship of the place they are in, when -they are sick and want help. Besides,” said I, “some of those -unfortunate creatures they call convicts may be peopie that have been -tenderly brought up.” “Really, sir,” says he, “this poor creature, I -always said, had something of a gentlewoman in her. I could see it by -her behaviour, and I have heard the other women say that she lived -very great once, and that she had fifteen hundred pound to her -portion; and I dare say she has been a handsome woman in her time, and -she has a hand as fine as a lady’s now, though it be tanned with the -weather. I dare say she was never brought up to labour as she does -here, and she says to the rest that it will kill her.”</p> - -<p>“Truly,” says I, “it may be so, and that may be the reason that she -faints under it;” and I added, “Is there nothing you can put her to -within doors that may not be so laborious and expose her to so much -heat and cold?” He told me yes, there was. He could set her to be the -housekeeper, for the woman that lately was such was out of her time, -and was married and turned planter. “Why, then, let her have it,” said -I, “if she recovers; and in the meantime go,” said I, “and tell her -so; perhaps the comfort of it may help to restore her.”</p> - -<p>He did so, and with that, taking good care of her, and giving her good -warm diet, the woman recovered, and in a little time was abroad again; -for it was the mere weight of labour, and being exposed to hard -lodging and mean diet, to one so tenderly bred, that struck her and -she fainted at her work.</p> - -<p>When she was made housekeeper she was quite another body. She put all -the household into such excellent order, and managed their provisions -so well, that my tutor admired her conduct, and would be every now and -then speaking of her to me, that she was an excellent manager. “I’ll -warrant,” says he, “she has been bred a gentlewoman, and she has been -a fine woman in her time too.” In a word, he said so many good things -of her that I had a mind to see her. So one day I took occasion to go -to the plantation-house, as they called it, and into a parlour always -reserved for the master of the plantation. There she had opportunity -to see me before I could see her, and as soon as she had seen me she -knew me; but indeed had I seen her an hundred times I should not have -known her. She was, it seems, in the greatest confusion and surprise -at seeing who I was that it was possible for any one to be; and when I -ordered my manager to bring her into the room, he found her crying, -and begged him to excuse her, that she was frighted, and should die -away if she came near me.</p> - -<p>I, not imagining anything but that the poor creature was afraid of me -(for masters in Virginia are terrible things), bade him tell her she -need to be under no concern at my calling for her; for it was not for -any hurt nor for any displeasure, but that I had some orders to give -her. So, having, as he thought, encouraged her, though her surprise -was of another kind, he brought her in. When she came in she held a -handkerchief in her hand, wiping her eyes, as if she had cried. “Mrs. -Housekeeper,” said I, speaking cheerfully to her, “don’t be concerned -at my sending for you; I have had a very good account of your -management, and I called for you to let you know I am very well -pleased with it; and if it falls in my way to do you any good, if your -circumstances will allow it, I may be willing enough to help you out -of your misery.”</p> - -<p>She made low courtesies, but said nothing. However, she was so far -encouraged that she took her hand from her face, and I saw her face -fully; and I believe she did it desiring I should discover who she -was; but I really knew nothing of her, any more than if I had never -seen her in my life, but went on, as I thought, to encourage her, as I -used to do with any that I saw deserved it.</p> - -<p>In the meantime my tutor, who was in the room, went out on some -business or other—I know not what. As soon as he was gone she burst -out into a passion, and fell down on her knees just before me: “Oh, -sir!” says she, “I see you don’t know me. Be merciful to me; I am your -miserable divorced wife!”</p> - -<p>I was astonished; I was frighted; I trembled like one in an ague; I -was speechless; in a word, I was ready to sink, and she fell flat on -her face, and lay there as if she had been dead. I was speechless, I -say, as a stone. I had only presence of mind enough to step to the -door and fasten it, that my tutor might not come in; then, going back -to her, I took her up and spoke comfortably to her, and told her I no -more knew her than if I had never seen her.</p> - -<p>“Oh, sir!” said she, “afflictions are dreadful things; such as I have -suffered have been enough to alter my countenance; but forgive,” said -she, “for God’s sake, the injuries I have done you. I have paid dear -for all my wickedness, and it is just, it is righteous, that God -should bring me to your foot, to ask your pardon for all my brutish -doings. Forgive me, sir,” said she, “I beseech you, and let me be your -slave or servant for it as long as I live; it is all I ask;” and with -those words she fell upon her knees again and cried so vehemently that -it was impossible for her to stop it or to speak a word more. I took -her up again, made her sit down, desired her to compose herself, and -to hear what I was going to say; though indeed it touched me so -sensibly that I was hardly able to speak any more than she was.</p> - -<p>First, I told her it was such a surprise to me that I was not able to -say much to her; and indeed the tears run down my face almost as fast -as they did on hers. I told her that I should only tell her now, that, -as nobody had yet known anything that had passed, so it was absolutely -necessary not a word of it should be known; that it should not be the -worse for her that she was thus thrown in my hands again; but that I -could do nothing for her if it was known, and, therefore, that her -future good or ill fortune would depend upon her entire concealing it; -that, as my manager would come in again presently, she should go back -to her part of the house, and go on in the business as she did before; -that I would come to her and talk more at large with her in a day or -two. So she retired, after assuring me that not a word of it should go -out of her mouth; and indeed she was willing to retire before my tutor -came again, that he might not see the agony she was in.</p> - -<p>I was so perplexed about this surprising incident that I hardly knew -what I did or said all that night; nor was I come to any settled -resolution in the morning what course to take in it. However, in the -morning I called my tutor, and told him that I had been exceedingly -concerned about the poor distressed creature, the housekeeper; that I -had heard some of her story, which was very dismal; that she had been -in very good circumstances and was bred very well, and that I was glad -he had removed her out of the field into the house; but still she was -almost naked, and that I would have him go down to the warehouse and -give her some linen, especially head-clothes, and all sorts of small -things such as hoods, gloves, stockings, shoes, petticoats, &c., and -to let her choose for herself; also a morning-gown of calico, and a -mantua of a better kind of calico; that is to say, new clothe her; -which he did, but brought me word that he found her all in tears, and -that she had cried all night long, and, in short, he believed she -would indeed cry herself to death; that all the while she was -receiving the things he gave her she cried; that now and then she -would struggle with and stop it, but that then, upon another word -speaking, she would burst out again, so that it grieved everybody that -saw her.</p> - -<p>I was really affected with her case very much, but struggled hard with -myself to hide it, and turned the discourse to something else. In the -meantime, though I did not go to her the next day, nor till the third -day, yet I studied day and night how to act, and what I should do in -this remarkable case.</p> - -<p>When I came to the house, which was the third day, she came into the -room I was in, clothed all over with my things which I had ordered -her, and told me she thanked God she was now my servant again and wore -my livery, thanked me for the clothes I had sent her, and said it was -much more than she had deserved from me.</p> - -<p>I then entered into discourses with her, nobody being present but -ourselves; and first I told her she should name no more of the unkind -things that had passed, for she had humbled herself more than enough -on that subject, and I would never reproach her with anything that was -past. I found that she had been the deepest sufferer by far. I told -her it was impossible for me, in my present circumstances, to receive -her there as a wife who came over as a convict, neither did she know -so little as to desire it; but I told her I might be instrumental to -put an end to her misfortunes in the world, and especially to the -miserable part of it which was her present load, provided she could -effectually keep her own counsel and never let the particulars come -out of her mouth, and that from the day she did she might date her -irrevocable ruin.</p> - -<p>She was as sensible of the necessity of that part as I was, and told -me all she could claim of me would be only to deliver her from her -present calamity that she was not able to support; and that then, if I -pleased, she might live such a life as that she might apply the -residue of what time she should have wholly to repentance; that she -was willing to do the meanest offices in the world for me; and though -she should rejoice to hear that I would forgive her former life, yet -that she would not look any higher than to be my servant as long as -she lived; and, in the meantime, I might be satisfied she would never -let any creature so much as know that I had ever seen her before.</p> - -<p>I asked her if she was willing to let me into any part of the history -of her life since she and I parted; but I did not insist upon it -otherwise than as she thought convenient. She said, as her breach with -me began first in folly and ended in sin, so her whole life afterwards -was a continued series of calamity, sin and sorrow, sin and shame, and -at last misery; that she was deluded into gay company and to an -expensive way of living which betrayed her to several wicked courses -to support the expenses of it; that after a thousand distresses and -difficulties, being not able to maintain herself, she was reduced to -extreme poverty; that she would many times have humbled herself to me -in the lowest and most submissive manner in the world, being sincerely -penitent for her first crime, but that she could never hear of me, nor -which way I was gone; that she was by that means so abandoned that she -wanted bread, and those wants and distresses brought her into bad -company of another kind, and that she fell in among a gang of thieves, -with whom she herded for some time, and got money enough a great -while, but under the greatest dread and terror imaginable, being in -the constant fear of coming to shame; that afterwards what she feared -was come upon her, and for a very trifling attempt in which she was -not principal, but accidentally concerned, she was sent to this place. -She told me her life was such a collection of various fortunes—up and -down, in plenty and in misery, in prison and at liberty, at ease and -in torment—that it would take up a great many days to give me a -history of it; that I was come to see the end of it, as I had seen the -best part of the beginning; that I knew she was brought up tenderly -and fared delicately; but that now she was, with the prodigal, brought -to desire husks with swine, and even to want that supply. Her tears -flowed so strongly upon this discourse that they frequently -interrupted her, so that she could not go on without difficulty, and -at last could not go on at all. So I told her I would excuse her -telling any more of her story at that time; that I saw it was but a -renewing of her grief, and that I would rather contribute to her -forgetting what was past, and desired her to say no more of it; so I -broke off that part.</p> - -<p>In the meantime I told her, since Providence had thus cast her upon my -hands again, I would take care that she should not want, and that she -should not live hardly neither, though I could go no further at -present; and thus we parted for that time, and she continued in the -business of housekeeper; only that, to ease her, I gave her an -assistant; and, though I would not have it called so, it was neither -more or less than a servant to wait on her and do everything for her; -and told her, too, that it was so.</p> - -<p>After she had been some time in this place she recovered her spirits -and grew cheerful; her fallen flesh plumped up, and the sunk and -hollow parts filled again, so that she began to recover something of -that brightness and charming countenance which was once so very -agreeable to me; and sometimes I could not help having warm desires -towards her, and of taking her into her first station again; but there -were many difficulties occurred which I could not get over a great -while.</p> - -<p>But in the meantime another odd accident happened which put me to a -very great difficulty, and more than I could have thought such a thing -could be capable of. My tutor, a man of wit and learning, and full of -generous principles, who was at first moved with compassion for the -misery of this gentlewoman, and, even then, thought there were some -things more than common in her, as I have hinted; now when, as I say, -she was recovered, and her sprightly temper restored and comforted, he -was charmed so with her conversation that, in short, he fell in love -with her.</p> - -<p>I hinted in my former account of her that she had a charming tongue, -was mistress of abundance of wit, that she sung incomparably fine, and -was perfectly well-bred. These all remained with her still, and made -her a very agreeable person; and, in short, he came to me one evening -and told me that he came to ask my leave to let him marry the -housekeeper.</p> - -<p>I was exceedingly perplexed at this proposal, but, however, I gave him -no room to perceive that. I told him I hoped he had considered well of -it before he brought it so far as to offer it to me, and supposed that -he had agreed that point so that I had no consent to give, but as she -had almost four years of her time to serve.</p> - -<p>He answered no; he paid such a regard to me that he would not so much -as take one step in such a thing without my knowledge, and assured me -he had not so much as mentioned it to her. I knew not what answer -indeed to make to him, but at last I resolved to put it off from -myself to her, because then I should have opportunity to talk with her -beforehand. So I told him he was perfectly free to act in the matter -as he thought fit; that I could not say either one thing or another to -it, neither had I any right to meddle in it. As to her serving out her -time with me, that was a trifle, and not worth naming, but I hoped he -would consider well every circumstance before he entered upon such an -affair as that.</p> - -<p>He told me he had fully considered it already, and that he was -resolved, seeing I was not against it, to have her whatever came of -it, for he believed he should be the happiest man alive with her. Then -he ran on in his character of her, how clever a woman she was in the -management of all manner of business, how admirable conversation she -was, what a wit, what a memory, what a vast share of knowledge, and -the like; all which I knew to be the truth, and yet short of her just -character too; for, as she was all that formerly when she was mine, -she was vastly improved in the school of affliction, and was all the -bright part, with a vast addition of temper, prudence, judgment, and -all that she formerly wanted.</p> - -<p>I had not much patience, as you may well imagine, till I saw my honest -housekeeper, to communicate this secret to her, and to see what course -she would steer on so nice an occasion. But I was suddenly taken so -ill with a cold which held for two days that I could not stir out of -doors; and in this time the matter was all done and over; for my tutor -had gone the same night and made his attack; but was coldly received -at first, which very much surprised him, for he made no doubt to have -her consent at first word. However, the next day he came again, and -again the third day, when, finding he was in earnest, and yet that she -could not think of anything of that kind, she told him, in few words, -that she thought herself greatly obliged to him for such a testimony -of his respect to her, and should have embraced it willingly, as -anybody would suppose one in her circumstances should do, but that she -would not abuse him so much, for that she must acknowledge to him she -was under obligations that prevented her; that was, in short, that she -was a married woman and had a husband alive.</p> - -<p>This was so sincere but so effectual an answer that he could have no -room to reply one word to it, but that he was very sorry, and that it -was a very great affliction to him, and as great a disappointment as -ever he met with.</p> - -<p>The next day after he had received this repulse I came to the -plantation-house, and, sending for the housekeeper, I began with her, -and told her that I understood she would have a very advantageous -proposal made to her, and that I would have her consider well of it, -and then told her what my tutor had said to me.</p> - -<p>She immediately fell a-crying, at which I seemed to wonder very much. -“Oh, sir!” says she, “how can you name such a thing to me?” I told her -that I could name it the better to her because I had been married -myself since I parted from her. “Yes, sir,” says she; “but the case -alters; the crime being on my side, I ought not to marry; but,” says -she, “that is not the reason at all, but I cannot do it.” I pretended -to press her to it, though not sincerely, I must acknowledge, for my -heart had turned toward her for some time, and I had fully forgiven -her in my mind all her former conduct; but, I say, I seemed to press -her to it, at which she burst out in a passion. “No, no,” says she; -“let me be your slave rather than the best man’s wife in the world.” I -reasoned with her upon her circumstances, and how such a marriage -would restore her to a state of ease and plenty, and none in the world -might ever know or suspect who or what she had been. But she could not -bear it; but, with tears, again raising her voice that I was afraid -she would be heard, “I beseech you,” says she, “do not speak of it any -more. I was once yours, and I will never belong to any man else in the -world. Let me be as I am, or anything else you please to make me, but -not a wife to any man alive but yourself.”</p> - -<p>I was so moved with the passion she was in at speaking this that I -knew not what I said or did for some time. At length I said to her, -“It is a great pity you had not long ago been as sincere as you are -now; it had been better for us both. However, as it is, you shall not -be forced to anything against your mind, nor shall you be the worse -treated for refusing; but how will you put him off? No doubt he -expects you will receive his proposal as an advantage; and as he sees -no farther into your circumstances, so it is.” “Oh, sir!” says she, “I -have done all that already. He has his answer, and is fully satisfied. -He will never trouble you any more on that head;” and then she told me -what answer she had given him.</p> - -<p>From that minute I resolved that I would certainly take her again to -be my wife as before. I thought she had fully made me amends for her -former ill conduct, and she deserved to be forgiven (and so indeed she -did, if ever woman did, considering also what dreadful penance she had -undergone, and how long she had lived in misery and distress); and -that Providence had, as it were, cast her upon me again, and, above -all, had given her such an affection to me and so resolved a mind that -she could refuse so handsome an offer of deliverance rather than be -farther separated from me.</p> - -<p>As I resolved this in my mind, so I thought it was cruel to conceal it -any longer from her. Nor, in deed, could I contain myself any longer, -but I took her in my arms: “Well,” says I, “you have given me such a -testimony of affection in this that I can no longer withstand. I -forgive you all that ever was between us on this account, and, since -you will be nobody’s but mine, you shall be mine again as you were at -first.”</p> - -<p>But this was too much for her the other way, and now she was so far -overcome with my yielding to her that, had she not got vent to her -passion by the most vehement crying, she must have died in my arms; -and I was forced to let her go and set her down in a chair, where she -cried for a quarter of an hour before she could speak a word.</p> - -<p>When she was come to herself enough to talk again, I told her we must -consider of a method how to bring this to pass, and that it must not -be done by publishing there that she was my wife before, for that -would expose us both, but that I would openly marry her again. This -she agreed was very rational, and accordingly, about two months after, -we were married again, and no man in the world ever enjoyed a better -wife or lived more happy than we both did for several years after.</p> - -<p>And now I began to think my fortunes were settled for this world, and -I had nothing before me but to finish a life of infinite variety, such -as mine had been, with a comfortable retreat, being both made wiser by -our sufferings and difficulties, and able to judge for ourselves what -kind of life would be best adapted to our present circumstances, and -in what station we might look upon ourselves to be most completely -happy.</p> - -<p>But man is a short-sighted creature at best, and in nothing more than -in that of fixing his own felicity, or, as we may say, choosing for -himself. One would have thought, and so my wife often suggested to me, -that the state of life that I was now in was as perfectly calculated -to make a man completely happy as any private station in the world -could be. We had an estate more than sufficient, and daily increasing, -for the supporting any state or figure that in that place we could -propose to ourselves or even desire to live in; we had everything that -was pleasant and agreeable, without the least mortification in any -circumstances of it; every sweet thing, and nothing to embitter it; -every good, and no mixture of evil with it; nor any gap open where we -could have the least apprehensions of any evil breaking out upon us. -Nor indeed was it easy for either of us, in our phlegmatic, melancholy -notions, to have the least imagination how anything disastrous could -happen to us in the common course of things, unless something should -befall us out of the ordinary way of Providence, or of its acting in -the world.</p> - -<p>But, an unseen mine blew up all this apparent tranquillity at once; -and though it did not remove my affairs there from me, yet it -effectually removed me from them and sent me a-wandering into the -world again—a condition full of hazards, and always attended with -circumstances dangerous to mankind, while he is left to choose his own -fortunes and be guided by his own short-sighted measures.</p> - -<p>I must now return to a circumstance of my history which had been past -for some time, and which relates to my conduct while I was last in -England.</p> - -<p>I mentioned how my faithful wife Moggy, with her tears and her -entreaties, had prevailed with me not to play the madman and openly -join in the rebellion with the late Lord Derwentwater and his party -when they entered Lancashire, and thereby, as I may say, saved my -life. But my curiosity prevailed so much at last that I gave her the -slip when they came to Preston, and at least thought I would go and -look at them, and see what they were likely to come to.</p> - -<p>My former wife’s importunities, as above, had indeed prevailed upon me -from publicly embarking in that enterprise and joining openly with -them in arms; and by this, as I have observed, she saved my life to be -sure, because I had then publicly espoused the rebellion, and had been -known to have been among them, which might have been as fatal to me -afterwards, though I had not been taken in the action, as if I had.</p> - -<p>But when they advanced and came nearer to us to Preston, and there -appeared a greater spirit among the people in their favour, my old -doctor, whom I mentioned before, who was a Romish priest, and had -married us, inspired me with new zeal, and gave me no rest till he -obliged me, with only a good horse and arms, to join them the day -before they entered Preston, he himself venturing in the same posture -with me.</p> - -<p>I was not so public here as to be very well known, at least by any one -that had knowledge of me in the country where I lived; and this was -indeed my safety afterwards, as you will soon hear. But yet I was -known too among the men, especially among the Scots, with some of whom -I had been acquainted in foreign service. With these I was -particularly conversant, and, passing for a French officer, I talked -to them of making a select detachment to defend the pass between -Preston and the river and bridge, upon maintaining which, as I -insisted, depended the safety of the whole party.</p> - -<p>It was with some warmth that I spoke of that affair, and as I passed -among them, I say, for a French officer and a man of experience, it -caused several debates among them. But the hint was not followed, as -is well known, and from that moment I gave them all up as lost, and -meditated nothing but how to escape from them, which I effected the -night before they were surrounded by the royal cavalry. I did not do -this without great difficulty, swimming the river Ribble at a place -where, though I got well over, yet I could not for a long while get to -a place where my horse could land himself—that is to say, where the -ground was firm enough for him to take the land. However, at length I -got on shore, and riding very hard, came the next evening in sight of -my own dwelling. Here, after lying by in a wood till the depth of -night, I shot my horse in a little kind of a gravel pit, or marl pit, -where I soon covered him with earth for the present, and marching all -alone, I came about two in the morning to my house, where my wife, -surprised with joy and yet terribly frighted, let me in; and then I -took immediate measures to secure myself upon whatever incident might -happen, but which, as things were ordered, I had no need to make use -of, for the rebels being entirely defeated, and either all killed or -taken prisoners, I was not known by anybody in the country to have -been among them; no, nor so much as suspected. And thus I made a -narrow escape from the most dangerous action, and most foolishly -embarked in, of any that I had ever been engaged in before.</p> - -<p>It was very lucky to me that I killed and buried my horse, for he -would have been taken two days after, and would, to be sure, have been -known by those who had seen me upon him at Preston. But now, as none -knew I had been abroad, nor any such circumstance could discover me, I -kept close, and as my excursion had been short and I had not been -missed by any of my neighbours, if anybody came to speak with me, -behold I was at home.</p> - -<p>However, I was not thoroughly easy in my mind, and secretly wished I -was in my own dominions in Virginia, to which, in a little time, other -circumstances occurring, I made preparations to remove with my whole -family.</p> - -<p>In the meantime, as above, the action at Preston happened, and the -miserable people surrendered to the king’s troops. Some were executed -for examples, as in such cases is usual, and the government extending -mercy to the multitude, they were kept in Chester Castle, and other -places a considerable time, till they were disposed of, some one way, -some another, as we shall hear.</p> - -<p>Several hundreds of them after this were, at their own request, -transported, as it is vulgarly expressed, to the plantations—that is -to say, sent to Virginia and other British colonies to be sold after -the usual manner of condemned criminals, or, as we call them there, -convicts, to serve a limited time in the country, and then be made -freemen again. Some of these I have spoken of above; but now, to my no -little uneasiness, I found, after I had been there some time, two -ships arrived with more of these people in the same river where all my -plantations lay.</p> - -<p>I no sooner heard of it but the first step I took was to resolve to -let none of them be bought into my work or to any of my plantations; -and this I did, pretending that I would not make slaves every day of -unfortunate gentlemen who fell into that condition for their zeal to -their party only, and the like. But the true reason was, that I -expected several of them would know me, and might perhaps betray me, -and make it public that I was one of the same sort, but had made my -escape; and so I might be brought into trouble, and, if I came off -with my life, might have all my effects seized on, and be reduced to -misery and poverty again at once, all which I thought I had done -enough to deserve.</p> - -<p>This was a just caution, but, as I found quickly, was not a sufficient -one, as my circumstances stood, for my safety; for though I bought -none of these poor men myself, yet several of my neighbours did, and -there was scarce a plantation near me but had some of them, more or -less, among them; so that, in a word, I could not peep abroad hardly -but I was in danger to be seen, and known too, by some or other of -them.</p> - -<p>I may be allowed to say that this was a very uneasy life to me, and -such that, in short, I found myself utterly unable to bear; for I was -now reduced from a great man, a magistrate, a governor or master of -three great plantations, and having three or four hundred servants at -my command, to be a poor self-condemned rebel, and durst not show my -face; and that I might with the same safety, or rather more, have -skulked about in Lancashire where I was, or gone up to London and -concealed myself there till things had been over. But now the danger -was come home to me, even to my door, and I expected nothing but to be -informed against every day, be taken up, and sent to England in irons, -and have all my plantations seized on as a forfeited estate to the -Crown.</p> - -<p>I had but one hope of safety to trust to, and that was, that having -been so little a while among them, done nothing for them, and passing -for a stranger, they never knew my name, but only I was called the -French colonel, or the French officer, or the French gentleman by -most, if not by all, the people here. And as for the doctor that went -with me, he had found means to escape too, though not the same way -that I did, finding the cause not likely to be supported, and that the -king’s troops were gathering on all sides round them like a cloud.</p> - -<p>But to return to myself; this was no satisfaction to me, and what to -do I really knew not, for I was more at a loss how to shift in such a -distressed case as this, now it lay so close to me, than ever I was in -any difficulty in my life. The first thing I did was to come home and -make a confidence of the whole affair to my wife; and though I did it -generously without conditions, yet I did not do it without first -telling her how I was now going to put my life into her hands, that -she might have it in her power to pay me home for all that she might -think had been hard in my former usage of her; and that, in short, it -would be in her power to deliver me up into the hands of my enemies, -but that I would trust her generosity, as well as her renewed -affection, and put all upon her fidelity, and without any more -precaution I opened the whole thing to her, and particularly the -danger I was now in.</p> - -<p>A faithful counsellor is life from the dead, gives courage where the -heart is sinking, and raises the mind to a proper use of means; and -such she was to me indeed upon every step of this affair, and it was -by her direction that I took every step that followed for the -extricating myself out of this labyrinth.</p> - -<p>“Come, come, my dear,” says she, “if this be all, there is no room for -any such disconsolate doings as your fears run you upon;” for I was -immediately for selling off my plantations and all my stock and -embarking myself forthwith, and to get to Madeira or to any place out -of the king’s dominions.</p> - -<p>But my wife was quite of another opinion, and encouraging me on -another account, proposed two things, either my freighting a sloop -with provisions to the West Indies, and so taking passage from thence -to London, or letting her go away directly for England and endeavour -to obtain the king’s pardon, whatever it might cost.</p> - -<p>I inclined to the last proposal; for though I was unhappily prejudiced -in favour of a wrong interest, yet I had always a secret and right -notion of the clemency and merciful disposition of his Majesty, and, -had I been in England, should, I believe, have been easily persuaded -to have thrown myself at his foot.</p> - -<p>But going to England as I was circumstanced must have been a public -action, and I must have made all the usual preparations for it, must -have appeared in public, have stayed till the crop was ready, and gone -away in form and state as usual, or have acted as if something -extraordinary was the matter, and have filled the heads of the people -there with innumerable suggestions of they knew not what.</p> - -<p>But my wife made all this easy to me from her own invention; for, -without acquainting me of any thing, she comes merrily to me one -morning before I was up: “My dear,” says she, “I am very sorry to hear -that you are not very well this morning. I have ordered Pennico” (that -was a young negro girl which I had given her) “to make you a fire in -your chamber, and pray lie still where you are a while till it is -done.” At the same instant the little negro came in with wood and a -pair of bellows, &c., to kindle the fire, and my wife, not giving me -time to reply, whispers close to my ear to lie still and say nothing -till she came up again to me.</p> - -<p>I was thoroughly frighted, that you may be sure of, and thought of -nothing but of being discovered, betrayed, and carried to England, -hanged, quartered, and all that was terrible, and my very heart sunk -within me. She perceived my disorder and turned back, assuring me -there was no harm, desired me to be easy, and she would come back -again presently and give me satisfaction in every particular that I -could desire. So I composed myself a while as well as I could, but it -was but a little while that I could bear it, and I sent Pennico -downstairs to find out her mistress, and tell her I was very ill and -must speak with her immediately; and the girl was scarce out of the -room before I jumped out of bed and began to dress me, that I might be -ready for all events.</p> - -<p>My wife was as good as her word, and was coming up as the girl was -coming down. “I see,” says she, “you want patience, but pray do not -want government of yourself, but take that screen before your face, -and go to the window and see if you know any of those Scotchmen that -are in the yard, for there are seven or eight of them come about some -business to your clerk.”</p> - -<p>I went and looked through the screen, and saw the faces of them all -distinctly, but could make nothing of them other than that they were -Scotchmen, which was easy to discern. However, it was no satisfaction -to me that I knew not their faces, for they might know mine for all -that, according to the old English proverb, “That more knows Tom Fool -than Tom Fool knows;” so I kept close in my chamber till I understood -they were all gone.</p> - -<p>After this my wife caused it to be given out in the house that I was -not well; and when this not being well had lasted three or four days, -I had my leg wrapped up in a great piece of flannel and laid upon a -stool, and there I was lame of the gout; and this served for about six -weeks, when my wife told me she had given it out that my gout was -rather rheumatic than a settled gout, and that I was resolved to take -one of my own sloops and go away to Nevis or Antigua, and use the hot -baths there for my cure.</p> - -<p>All this was very well, and I approved my wife’s contrivance as -admirably good, both to keep me within doors eight or ten weeks at -first, and to convey me away afterwards without any extraordinary -bustle to be made about it; but still I did not know what it all -tended to, and what the design of it all was. But my wife desired me -to leave that to her; so I readily did, and she carried it all on with -a prudence not to be disputed; and after she had wrapped my legs in -flannel almost three months, she came and told me the sloop was ready -and all the goods put on board. “And now, my dear,” says she, “I come -to tell you all the rest of my design; for,” added she, “I hope you -will not think I am going to kidnap you, and transport you from -Virginia, as other people are transported to it, or that I am going to -get you sent away and leave myself in possession of your estate; but -you shall find me the same faithful, humble creature which I should -have been if I had been still your slave, and not had any hopes of -being your wife, and that in all my scheme which I have laid for your -safety, in this new exigence, I have not proposed your going one step -but where I shall go and be always with you, to assist and serve you -on all occasions, and to take my portion with you, of what kind soever -our lot may be.”</p> - -<p>This was so generous, and so handsome a declaration of her fidelity, -and so great a token, too, of the goodness of her judgment in -considering of the things which were before her, and of what my -present circumstances called for, that, from that time forward, I gave -myself cheerfully up to her management without any hesitation in the -least, and after about ten days’ preparation we embarked in a large -sloop of my own of about sixty tons.</p> - -<p>I should have mentioned here that I had still my faithful tutor, as I -called him, at the head of my affairs; and, as he knew who to -correspond with, and how to manage the correspondence in England, we -left all that part to him, as I had done before; and I did this with a -full satisfaction in his ability as well as in his integrity. It is -true he had been a little chagrined in that affair of my wife, who, as -I hinted before, had married me, after telling him, in answer to his -solicitations, that she had a husband alive. Now, though this was -literally true, yet, as it was a secret not fit to be opened to him, I -was obliged to put him off with other reasons, as well as I could, -perhaps not much to the purpose, and perhaps not much to his -satisfaction, so that I reckoned he looked on himself as not very -kindly used several ways. But he began to get over it, and to be easy, -especially at our going away, when he found that the trust of -everything was still left in his hands as it was before.</p> - -<p>When my wife had thus communicated everything of the voyage to me, and -we began to be ready to go off, she came to me one morning, and, with -her usual cheerfulness, told me she now came to tell me the rest of -her measures for the completing my deliverance; and this was, that -while we made this trip, as she called it, to the hot springs at -Nevis, she would write to a particular friend at London, whom she -could depend upon, to try to get a pardon for a person on account of -the late rebellion, with all the circumstances which my case was -attended with, viz., of having acted nothing among them but being -three days in the place; and, while we were thus absent, she did not -question but to have an answer, which she would direct to come so many -ways that we would be sure to have the first of it as soon as it was -possible the vessels could go and come. And in the meantime the -expense should be very small, for she would have an answer to the -grand question first, whether it could be obtained or no; and then an -account of the expense of it, that so I might judge for myself whether -I would part with the needful sum or no, before any money was -disbursed on my account.</p> - -<p>I could not but be thoroughly satisfied with her contrivance in this -particular, and I had nothing to add to it but that I would not have -her limit her friend so strictly, but that if he saw the way clear, -and that he was sure to obtain it, he should go through stitch with -it, if within the expense of two or three or four hundred pounds, and -that, upon advice of its being practicable, he should have bills -payable by such a person on delivery of the warrant for the thing.</p> - -<p> -To fortify this, I enclosed in her packet a letter to one of my -correspondents, whom I could particularly trust, with a credit for the -money, on such-an-such conditions; but the honesty and integrity of my -wife’s correspondence was such as prevented all the expense, and yet I -had the wished-for security, as if it had been all paid, as you shall -hear presently. -</p> - -<p>All these things being fixed to our minds, and all things left behind -in good posture of settlement as usual, we embarked together and put -to sea, having the opportunity of an English man-of-war being on the -coast in pursuit of the pirates, and who was just then standing away -towards the Gulf of Florida, and told us he would see us safe as far -as New Providence, on the Bahama Islands.</p> - -<p>And now having fair weather and a pleasant voyage, and my flannels -taken off my legs, I must hint a little what cargo I had with me; for -as my circumstances were very good in that country, so I did not go -such a voyage as this, and with a particular reserve of fortunes -whatever might afterwards happen, without a sufficient cargo for our -support, and whatever exigence might happen.</p> - -<p>Our sloop, as I said, was of about sixty or seventy tons; and as -tobacco, which is the general produce of the country, was no -merchandise at Nevis, that is to say, for a great quantity, so we -carried very little, but loaded the sloop with corn, peas, meal, and -some barrels of pork; and an excellent cargo it was, most of it being -the produce of my own plantation. We took also a considerable sum of -money with us in Spanish gold, which was, as above, not for trade, but -for all events. I also ordered another sloop to be hired, and to be -sent after me, loaden with the same goods, as soon as they should have -advice from me that I was safe arrived.</p> - -<p>We came to the latitude of the island of Antigua, which was very near -to that of Nevis, whither we intended to go, on the eighteenth day -after our passing the Capes of Virginia, but had no sight of the -island; only our master said he was sure if he stood the same course -as he then was, and the gale held, I say he told me he was sure he -should make the island in less than five hours’ sail; so he stood on -fair for the islands. However, his account had failed him, for we held -on all the evening, made no land, and likewise all night, when in the -grey of the morning we discovered from the topmast-head a brigantine -and a sloop making sail after us, at the distance of about six -leagues, fair weather, and the wind fresh at S.E.</p> - -<p>Our master soon understood what they were, and came down into the -cabin to me to let me know it. I was much surprised, you may be sure, -at the danger, but my poor wife took from me all the concern for -myself to take care of her, for she was frighted to that degree that I -thought we should not have been able to keep life in her.</p> - -<p>While we were thus under the first hurry and surprise of the thing, -suddenly another noise from the deck called us up to look out, and -that was, “Land! land!” The master and I—for by this time I had got -out of my cabin—run upon the deck, and there we saw the state of our -case very plain. The two rogues that stood after us laid on all the -canvas they could carry, and crowded after us amain, but at the -distance, as I have said, of about six leagues, rather more than less. -On the other hand, the land discovered lay about nine leagues right -ahead, so that if the pirates could get of us, so as to sail three -feet for our two, it was evident they would be up with us before we -could make the island. If not, we should escape them and get in; but -even then we had no great hope to do any more than to run the ship -ashore to save our lives, and so, stranding our vessel, spoil both -sloop and cargo.</p> - -<p>When we were making this calculation our master came in cheerfully, -and told me he had crowded on more sail, and found the sloop carried -it very well, and that he did not find the rogues gained much upon us, -and that especially if one of them did not, that was the sloop, he -found he could go away from the brigantine as he pleased. Thus we gave -them what they call a stern chase, and they worked hard to come up -with us till towards noon, when on a sudden they both stood away and -gave us over, to our great satisfaction you may be sure.</p> - -<p>We did not, it seems, so easily see the occasion of our deliverance as -the pirate did; for while we went spooning away large with the wind -for one of the islands, with those two spurs in our heels, that is, -with the two thieves at our sterns, there lay an English man-of-war in -the road of Nevis, which was the same island from whence they espied -the pirates, but the land lying between, we could not see them.</p> - -<p>As the man-of-war discovered them she immediately slipped her cable -and put herself under sail in chase of the rogues; and they as soon -perceived her, and being windward, put themselves upon a wind to -escape her; and thus we were delivered, and in half-an-hour more we -knew who was our deliverer, seeing the man-of-war stretch ahead clear -of the island, and stand directly after the pirates, who now crowded -from us as fast as they crowded after us before; and thus we got safe -into Antigua, after the terrible apprehension we had been in of being -taken. Our apprehensions of being taken now were much more than they -would have been on board a loaden ship from or to London, where the -most they ordinarily do is to rifle the ship, take what is valuable -and portable, and let her go. But ours being but a sloop, and all our -loading being good provisions, such as they wanted, to be sure, for -their ship’s store, they would certainly have carried us away, ship -and all, taken out the cargo and the men, and perhaps have set the -sloop on fire; so that, as to our cargo of gold, it had been -inevitably lost, and we hurried away, nobody knows where, and used as -such barbarous fellows are wont to use innocent people as fall into -their hands.</p> - -<p>But we were now out of their hands, and had the satisfaction a few -days after to hear that the man-of-war pursued them so close, -notwithstanding they changed their course in the night, that the next -day they were obliged to separate and shift for themselves; so the -man-of-war took one of them, namely, the brigantine, and carried her -into Jamaica, but the other, viz., the sloop, made her escape.</p> - -<p>Being arrived here, we presently disposed of our cargo, and at a -tolerable good price; and now the question was, what I should do next. -I looked upon myself to be safe here from the fears I had been under -of being discovered as a rebel, and so indeed I was; but having been -now absent five months, and having sent the ship back with a cargo of -rum and molasses, which I knew was wanting in my plantations, I -received the same vessel back in return loaden, as at first, with -provisions.</p> - -<p>With this cargo my wife received a packet from London from the person -whom she had employed, as above, to solicit a pardon, who very -honestly wrote to her that he would not be so unjust to her friend, -whoever he was, as to put him to any expense for a private -solicitation; for that he was very well assured that his Majesty had -resolved, from his own native disposition to acts of clemency and -mercy to his subjects, to grant a general pardon, with some few -exceptions to persons extraordinary, and he hoped her friend was none -of the extraordinary persons to be excepted.</p> - -<p>This was a kind of life from the dead to us both, and it was resolved -that my wife should go back in the sloop directly to Virginia, where -she should wait the good news from England, and should send me an -account of it as soon as she received it.</p> - -<p>Accordingly she went back, and came safe with the sloop and cargo to -our plantation, from whence, after above four months’ more -expectation, behold the sloop came to me again, but empty and gutted -of all her cargo, except about a hundred sacks of unground malt, which -the pirates, not knowing how to brew, knew not what to do with, and so -had left in her. However, to my infinite satisfaction, there was a -packet of letters from my wife, with another to her from England, as -well one from her friend as one from my own correspondent; both of -them inti mating that the king had signed an act of grace, that is to -say, a general free pardon, and sent me copies of the act, wherein it -was manifest that I was fully included.</p> - -<p>And here let me hint, that having now, as it were, received my life at -the hands of King George, and in a manner so satisfying as it was to -me, it made a generous convert of me, and I became sincerely given in -to the interest of King George; and this from a principle of gratitude -and a sense of my obligation to his Majesty for my life; and it has -continued ever since, and will certainly remain with me as long as any -sense of honour and of the debt of gratitude remains with me. I -mention this to hint how far in such cases justice and duty to -ourselves commands us; namely, that to those who graciously give us -our lives when it is in their power to take them away, those lives are -a debt ever after, and ought to be set apart for their service and -interest as long as any of the powers of life remain, for gratitude is -a debt that never ceases while the benefit received remains; and if my -prince has given me my life, I can never pay the debt fully, unless -such a circumstance as this should happen, that the prince’s life -should be in my power, and I as generously preserved it. And yet -neither would the obligation be paid then, because the cases would -differ; thus, that my preserving the life of my prince was my natural -duty, whereas the prince on his side, my life being forfeited to him, -had no motive but mere clemency and beneficence.</p> - -<p>Perhaps this principle may not please all that read it; but as I have -resolved to guide my actions in things of such a nature by the rules -of strict virtue and principles of honour, so I must lay it down as a -rule of honour, that a man having once forfeited his life to the -justice of his prince and to the laws of his country, and receiving it -back as a bounty from the grace of his sovereign, such a man can never -lift up his hand again against that prince without a forfeiture of his -virtue and an irreparable breach of his honour and duty, and deserves -no pardon after it either from God or man. But all this is a -digression: I leave it as a sketch of the laws of honour, printed by -the laws of nature in the breast of a soldier or a man of honour, and -which, I believe, all impartial persons who understand what honour -means will subscribe to.</p> - -<p>But I return now to my present circumstances. My wife was gone, and -with her all my good fortune and success in business seemed to have -forsaken me; and I had another scene of misery to go through, after I -had thought that all my misfortunes were over and at an end.</p> - -<p>My sloop, as I have told you, arrived, but having met with a pirate -rogue in the Gulf of Florida, they took her first; then finding her -cargo to be all eatables, which they always want, they gutted her of -all her loading, except, as I have said, about a hundred sacks of -malt, which they really knew not what to do with; and, which was still -worse, they took away all the men except the master and two boys, who -they left on board just to run the vessel into Antigua, where they -said they were bound.</p> - -<p>But the most valuable part of my cargo, viz., a packet of letters from -England, those they left, to my inexpressible comfort and -satisfaction; and, particularly, that by those I saw my way home to -return to my wife and to my plantations, from which I promised myself -never to wander any more.</p> - -<p>In order to this, I now embarked myself and all my effects on board -the sloop, resolving to sail directly to the Capes of Virginia. My -captain beating it up to reach the Bahama channel, had not been two -days at sea but we were overtaken by a violent storm, which drove us -so far upon the coast of Florida as that we twice struck upon the -shore, and had we struck a third time we had been inevitably lost. A -day or two after that, the storm abating a little, we kept the sea, -but found the wind blowing so strong against our passing the gulf, and -the sea going so high, we could not hold it any longer. So we were -forced to bear away and make what shift we could; in which distress, -the fifth day after, we made land, but found it to be Cape ——, the -north-west part of the isle of Cuba. Here we found ourselves under a -necessity to run in under the land for shelter, though we had not come -to an anchor, so we had not touched the king of Spain’s territories at -all. However, in the morning we were surrounded with five Spanish -barks, or boats, such as they call <i>barco longos</i>, full of men, who -instantly boarded us, took us and carried us into the Havannah, the -most considerable port belonging to the Spaniards in that part of the -world.</p> - -<p>Here the sloop was immediately seized, and in consequence plundered, -as any one that knows the Spaniards, especially in that country, will -easily guess. Our men were made prisoners and sent to the common gaol; -and as for myself and the captain, we were carried before the Alcade -Major, or intendant of the place, as criminals.</p> - -<p>I spoke Spanish very well, having served under the king of Spain in -Italy, and it stood me in good stead at this time; for I so -effectually argued the injustice of their treatment of me that the -governor, or what I ought to call him, frankly owned they ought not to -have stopped me, seeing I was in the open sea pursuing my voyage, and -offered no offence to anybody, and had not landed or offered to land -upon any part of his Catholic Majesty’s dominions till I was brought -as a prisoner.</p> - -<p>It was a great favour that I could obtain thus much; but I found it -easier to obtain an acknowledgment that I had received wrong than to -get any satisfaction for that wrong, and much less was there any hope -or prospect of restitution; and I was let know that I was to wait till -an account could be sent to the viceroy of Mexico, and orders could be -received back from him how to act in the affair.</p> - -<p>I could easily foresee what all this tended to, namely, to a -confiscation of the ship and goods by the ordinary process at the -place; and that my being left to the decision of the viceroy of Mexico -was but a pretended representation of things to him from the -corregidore or judge of the place.</p> - -<p>However, I had no remedy but the old insignificant thing called -patience, and this I was better furnished with because I did not so -much value the loss as I made them believe I did. My greatest -apprehensions were that they would detain me and keep me as a prisoner -for life, and perhaps send me to their mines in Peru, as they have -done many, and pretended to do to all that come on shore in their -dominions, how great soever the distresses may have been which have -brought them thither, and which has been the reason why others who -have been forced on shore have committed all manner of violence upon -the Spaniards in their turn, resolving, however dear they sold their -lives, not to fall into their hands.</p> - -<p>But I got better quarter among them than that too, which was, as I -have said, much of it owing to my speaking Spanish, and to my telling -them how I had fought in so many occasions in the quarrel of his -Catholic Majesty in Italy; and, by great good chance, I had the king -of France’s commission for lieutenant-colonel in the Irish brigade in -my pocket, where it was mentioned that the said brigade was then -serving in the armies of France, under the orders of his Catholic -Majesty, in Italy.</p> - -<p>I failed not to talk up the gallantry and personal bravery of his -Catholic Majesty on all occasions, and particularly in many battles -where, by the way, his Majesty had never been at all, and in some -where I had never been myself. But I found I talked to people who knew -nothing of the matter, and so anything went down with them if it did -but praise the king of Spain and talk big of the Spanish cavalry, of -which, God knows, there was not one regiment in the army, at least -while I was there.</p> - -<p>However, this way of managing myself obtained me the liberty of the -place, upon my parole that I would not attempt an escape; and I -obtained also, which was a great favour, to have two hundred pieces of -eight allowed me out of the sale of my cargo for subsistence till I -could negotiate my affairs at Mexico. As for my men, they were -maintained as prisoners at the public charge.</p> - -<p>Well, after several months’ solicitation and attendance, all I could -obtain was the satisfaction of seeing my ship and cargo confiscated -and my poor sailors in a fair way to be sent to the mines. The last I -begged off, upon condition of paying three hundred pieces of eight for -their ransom, and having them set on shore at Antigua, and myself to -remain hostage for the payment of the said three hundred pieces of -eight, and for two hundred pieces of eight, which I had already had, -and for five hundred pieces of eight more for my own ransom, if, upon -a return from Mexico, the sentence of confiscation, as above, should -be confirmed by the viceroy.</p> - -<p>These were hard articles indeed, but I was forced to submit to them; -nor, as my circumstances were above all such matters as these, as to -substance, did I lay it much to heart. The greatest difficulty that -lay in my way was, that I knew not how to correspond with my friends -in any part of the world, or which way to supply myself with -necessaries or with money for the payment I had agreed to, the -Spaniards being so tenacious of their ports that they allowed nobody -to come on shore, or indeed near the shore, from any part of the -world, upon pain of seizure and confiscation, as had been my case -already. Upon this difficulty I began to reason with the corregidore, -and tell him that he put things upon us that were impossible, and that -were inconsistent with the customs of nations; that, if a man was -prisoner at Algiers, they would allow him to write to his friends to -pay his ransom, and would admit the person that brought it to come and -go free as a public person, and if they did not, no treaty could be -carried on for the ransom of a slave, nor the conditions be performed -when they are agreed upon.</p> - -<p>I brought it then down to my own case, and desired to know, upon -supposition, that I might, within the time limited in that agreement, -have the sums of money ready for the ransom of my men and of myself, -how I should obtain to have notice given me of it, or how it should be -brought, seeing the very persons bringing that notice, or afterwards -presuming to bring the money, might be liable to be seized and -confiscated, as I had been, and the money itself be taken as a second -prize, without redeeming the first.</p> - -<p>Though this was so reasonable a request that it could not be withstood -in point of argument, yet the Spaniard shrunk his head into his -shoulders, and said they had not power sufficient to act in such a -case; that the king’s laws were so severe against the suffering any -strangers to set their foot on his Catholic Majesty’s dominions in -America, and they could not dispense with the least tittle of them -without a particular <i>assiento</i>, as they called it, from the -Consulado, or Chamber of Commerce, at Seville, or a command under the -hand and seal of the viceroy of Mexico.</p> - -<p>“How! signior corregidore,” said I, with some warmth, and, as it were, -with astonishment, “have you not authority enough to sign a passport -for an agent, or ambassador, to come on shore here, from any of the -king of Great Britain’s governors in these parts, under a white flag, -or flag of truce, to speak with the governor of this place, or with -any other person in the king’s name, on the subject of such business -as the governor may have to communicate? Why,” said I, “if you cannot -do that, you cannot act according to the law of nations.”</p> - -<p>He shook his head, but still said no, he could not do even so much as -that; but here one of the military governors put in and opposed him, -and they two differed warmly, the first insisting that their orders -were deficient in that particular; but the other said that, as they -were bound up to them, it could not be in their power to act -otherwise, and that they were answerable for the ill consequences.</p> - -<p>“Well, then,” says the governor to the corregidore, “now you have kept -this Englishman as hostage for the ransom of the men that you have -dismissed, suppose he tells you the money is ready, either at such, or -such, or such a place, how shall he bring it hither? You will take all -the people prisoners that offer to bring it; what must he do? If you -say you will send and fetch it, what security shall he have that he -shall have his liberty when it is paid you? and why should he trust -you so far as to pay the money, and yet remain here a prisoner?”</p> - -<p>This carried so much reason with it that the corregidore knew not what -to say, but that so was the law, and he could act no otherwise but by -the very letter of it; and here each was so positive that nothing -could determine it but another express to be sent to the viceroy of -Mexico.</p> - -<p>Upon this the governor was so kind as to say he would get me a -passport for anybody that should bring the money, and any vessel they -were in, by his own authority, and for their safe returning, and -taking me with them, provided I would answer for it that they should -bring no European or other goods whatever with them, and should not -set foot on shore without his express permission, and provided he did -not receive orders to the contrary, in the meantime, from any superior -hand; and that, even in such a case, they should have liberty to go -back freely from whence they came, under the protection of a white -flag.</p> - -<p>I bowed very respectfully to the governor in token of my acknowledging -his justice, and then presented my humble petition to him that he -would allow my men to take their own sloop; that it should be rated at -a certain value, and would be obliged they should bring specie on -board with them, and that they should either pay it for the sloop or -leave the sloop again.</p> - -<p>Then he inquired to what country he would send them for so much money, -and if I could assure him of the payment; and when he understood it -was no farther than to Virginia he seemed very easy; and, to satisfy -the corregidore, who still stood off, adhering with a true Spanish -stiffness to the letter of the law, the said governor calls out to me: -“Signior,” says he, “I shall make all this matter easy to you, if you -agree to my proposal. Your men shall have the sloop, on condition you -shall be my hostage for her return; but they shall not take her as -your sloop, though she shall in the effect be yours on the payment of -the money; but you shall take two of my men on board with you, upon -your parole for their safe return, and when she returns she shall -carry his Catholic Majesty’s colours, and be entered as one of the -sloops belonging to the Havannah; one of the Spaniards to be -commander, and to be called by such a name as he shall appoint.”</p> - -<p>This the corregidore came into immediately, and said this was within -the letter, of the king’s commanderie or precept; upon condition, -however, that she should bring no European goods on board. I desired -it might be put in other words; namely, that she should bring no -European goods on shore. It cost two days’ debate between these two -whether it should pass that no European goods should be brought in the -ship or brought on shore; but having found means to intimate that I -meant not to trade there, but would not be tied from bringing a small -present to a certain person in acknowledgment of favours—I say, after -I had found room to place such a hint right where it should be placed, -I found it was all made easy to me; and it was all agreed presently -that, after the ransom was paid, and the ship also bought, it was but -reasonable that I should have liberty to trade to any other country -not in the dominions of the king of Spain, so to make up my losses; -and that it would be hard to oblige my men to bring away the vessel -light, and so lose the voyage, and add so much to our former -misfortunes; that, so long as no goods were brought on shore in the -country belonging to his Catholic Majesty’s dominions, which was all -that they had to defend, the rest was no business of theirs.</p> - -<p>Now I began to see my way through this unhappy business, and to find, -that as money would bring me out of it, so money would bring it to -turn to a good account another way. Wherefore I sent the sloop away -under Spanish colours, and called her the <i>Nuestra Signiora de la Val -de Grace</i>, commanded by Signior Giraldo de Nesma, one of the two -Spaniards.</p> - -<p>With the sloop I sent letters to my wife and to my chief manager with -orders to load her back, as I there directed, viz., that she should -have two hundred barrels of flour, fifty barrels of pease; and, to -answer my other views, I ordered a hundred bales to be made up of all -sorts of European goods, such as not my own warehouses only would -supply, but such as they could be supplied with in other warehouses -where I knew they had credit for anything.</p> - -<p>In this cargo I directed all the richest and most valuable English -goods they had, or could get, whether linen, woollen, or silk, to be -made up; the coarser things, such as we use in Virginia for clothing -of servants, such I ordered to be left behind for the use of the -plantation. In less than seven weeks’ time the sloop returned, and I, -that failed not every day to look out for her on the strand, was the -first that spied her at sea at a distance, and knew her by her sails, -but afterwards more particularly by her signals.</p> - -<p>When she returned she came into the road with her Spanish ancient -flying, and came to an anchor as directed; but I, that had seen her -some hours before, went directly to the governor and gave him an -account of her being come, and fain I would have obtained the favour -to have his excellency, as I called him, go on board in person, that -he might see how well his orders were executed. But he declined that, -saying he could not justify going off of the island, which was, in -short, to go out of his command of the fort, which he could not -reassume without a new commission from the king’s own hand.</p> - -<p>Then I asked leave to go on board myself, which he granted me; and I -brought on shore with me the full sum in gold which I had conditioned -to pay for the ransom both of my men and myself, and for the purchase -of the sloop; and as I obtained leave to land in a different place, so -my governor sent his son with six soldiers to receive and convey me -with the money to the castle, where he commanded, and therein to his -own house. I had made up the money in heavy parcels, as if it had been -all silver, and gave it to two of my men who belonged to the sloop, -with orders to them that they should make it seem, by their carrying -it, to be much heavier than it was. This was done to conceal three -parcels of goods which I had packed up with the money to make a -present to the governor as I intended.</p> - -<p>When the money was carried in and laid down on a table, the governor -ordered my men to withdraw, and I gave the soldiers each of them a -piece of eight to drink, for which they were very thankful, and the -governor seemed well pleased with it also. Then I asked him presently -if he would please to receive the money. He said no, he would not -receive it but in presence of the corregidore and the other people -concerned. Then I begged his excellency, as I called him, to give me -leave to open the parcels in his presence, for that I would do myself -the honour to acknowledge his favours in the best manner I could.</p> - -<p>He told me no, he could not see anything be brought on shore but the -money; but, if I had brought anything on shore for my own use, he -would not be so strict as to inquire into that, so I might do what I -pleased myself.</p> - -<p>Upon that I went into the place, shut myself in, and having opened all -the things, placed them to my mind. There was five little parcels, as -follows:—</p> - -<p> -1, 2. A piece of twenty yards fine English broad cloth, five yards -black, five yards crimson, in one parcel; and the rest of fine -mixtures in another parcel.</p> - -<p>3. A piece of thirty ells of fine Holland linen.</p> - -<p>4. A piece of eighteen yards of fine English brocaded silk.</p> - -<p>5. A piece of black Colchester bays.</p> - -<p> -After I had placed these by themselves, I found means, with some -seeming difficulties and much grimace, to bring him to know that this -was intended for a present to himself. After all that part was over, -and he had seemed to accept them, he signified, after walking a -hundred turns and more in the room by them, by throwing his hat, which -was under his arm, upon them, and making a very stiff bow; I say, -after this he seemed to take his leave of me for a while, and I waited -in an outer room. When I was called in again, I found that he had -looked over all the particulars, and caused them to be removed out of -the place.</p> - -<p>But when I came again I found him quite another man. He thanked me for -my present; told me it was a present fit to be given to a viceroy of -Mexico rather than to a mere governor of a fort; that he had done me -no services suitable to such a return, but that he would see if he -could not oblige me further before I left the place.</p> - -<p>After our compliments were over I obtained leave to have the -corregidore sent for, who accordingly came, and in his presence the -money stipulated for the ransom of the ship and of the men was paid.</p> - -<p>But here the corregidore showed that he would be as severely just on -my side as on theirs, for he would not admit the money as a ransom for -us as prisoners, but as a deposit for so much as we were to be -ransomed for if the sentence of our being made prisoners should be -confirmed.</p> - -<p>And then the governor and corregidore, joining together, sent a -representation of the whole affair—at least we were told so—to the -viceroy of Mexico; and it was privately hinted to me that I would do -well to stay for the return of the <i>aviso</i>—that is, a boat which they -send over the bay to Vera Cruz with an express to Mexico, whose return -is generally performed in two months.</p> - -<p>I was not unwilling to stay, having secret hints given me that I -should find some way to go with my sloop towards Vera Cruz myself, -where I might have an occasion to trade privately for the cargo which -I had on board. But it came about a nearer way; for, about two days -after this money being deposited, as above, the governor’s son invited -himself on board my sloop, where I told him I would be very glad to -see him, and whither, at the same time, he brought with him three -considerable merchants, Spaniards, two of them not inhabitants of the -place.</p> - -<p>When they were on board they were very merry and pleasant, and I -treated them so much to their satisfaction that, in short, they were -not well able to go on shore for that night, but were content to take -a nap on some carpets, which I caused to be spread for them; and that -the governor’s son might think himself well used, I brought him a very -good silk nightgown, with a crimson velvet cap, to lie down in, and in -the morning desired him to accept of them for his use, which he took -very kindly.</p> - -<p>During that merry evening one of the merchants, not so touched with -drink as the young gentleman, nor so as not to mind what it was he -came about, takes an occasion to withdraw out of the great cabin and -enter into a parley with the master of the sloop in order to trade for -what European goods we had on board. The master took the hint, and -gave me notice of what had passed, and I gave him instructions what to -say and what to do; according to which instructions they made but few -words, bought the goods for about five thousand pieces of eight, and -carried them away themselves, and at their own hazards.</p> - -<p>This was very agreeable to me, for now I began to see I should lick -myself whole by the sale of this cargo, and should make myself full -amends of Jack Spaniard for all the injuries he had done me in the -first of these things. With this view I gave my master or captain of -the sloop instructions for sale of all the rest of the goods, and left -him to manage by himself, which he did so well that he sold the whole -cargo the next day to the three Spaniards; with this additional -circumstance, that they desired the sloop might carry the goods, as -they were on board, to such part of the <i>terra firma</i> as they should -appoint between the Honduras and the coast of La Vera Cruz.</p> - -<p>It was difficult for me to make good this part of the bargain, but -finding the price agreed for would very well answer the voyage, I -consented. But then how to send the sloop away and remain among the -Spaniards when I was now a clear man, this was a difficulty too, as it -was also to go away, and not wait for a favourable answer from the -viceroy of Mexico to the representation of the governor and the -corregidore. However, at last I resolved to go in the sloop, fall out -what would; so I went to the governor and represented to him that, -being now to expect a favourable answer from Mexico, it would be a -great loss to me to keep the sloop there all the while, and I desired -his leave for me to go with the sloop to Antigua to sell and dispose -of the cargo, which he well knew I was obliged not to bring on shore -there at the Havannah, and which would be in danger of being spoiled -by lying so long on board. This I obtained readily, with license to -come again into the road, and, for myself only, to come on shore in -order to hear the viceroy’s pleasure in my case, which was depending.</p> - -<p>Having thus obtained a license or passport for the sloop and myself, I -put to sea with the three Spanish merchants on board with me. They -told me they did not live at the Havannah, but it seems one of them -did; and some rich merchants of the Havannah, or of the parts -thereabouts in the same island, were concerned with them, for they -brought on board, that night we put to sea, a great sum of money in -pieces of eight; and, as I understood afterwards, that these merchants -bought the cargo of me, and though they gave me a very great price for -everything, yet that they sold them again to the merchants, who they -procured on the coast of La Vera Cruz, at a prodigious advantage, so -that they got above a hundred per cent, after I had gained very -sufficiently before.</p> - -<p>We sailed from the Havannah directly for Vera Cruz. I scrupled -venturing into the port at first, and was very uneasy lest I should -have another Spanish trick put upon me; but as we sailed under Spanish -colours, they showed us such authentic papers from the proper officers -that there was no room to fear anything.</p> - -<p>However, when we came in sight of the Spanish coast, I found they had -a secret clandestine trade to carry on, which, though it was secret, -yet they knew the way of it so well that it was but a mere road to -them. The case was this: we stood in close under the shore in the -night, about six leagues to the north of the port, where two of the -three merchants went on shore in the boat, and in three hours or there -abouts they came on board again with five canoes and seven or eight -merchants more with them, and as soon as they were on board we stood -off to sea, so that by daylight we were quite out of sight of land.</p> - -<p>I ought to have mentioned before that as soon as we were put to sea -from the Havannah, and during our voyage into the Gulf of Mexico, -which was eight days, we rummaged the whole cargo, and opening every -bale as far as the Spanish merchants desired, we trafficked with them -for the whole cargo, except the barrels of flour and pease.</p> - -<p>This cargo was considerable in itself, for my wife’s account or -invoice, drawn out by my tutor and manager, amounted to £2684, 10s., -and I sold the whole, including what had been sold in the evening, -when they were on board first, as I have said, for thirty-eight -thousand five hundred and ninety-three pieces of eight, and they -allowed me twelve hundred pieces of eight for the freight of the -sloop, and made my master and the seamen very handsome presents -besides; and they were well able to do this too, as you shall hear -presently.</p> - -<p>After we were gotten out of sight of land the Spaniards fell to their -traffic, and our three merchants opened their shop, as they might say, -for it was their shop. As to me, I had nothing to do with it or with -their goods. They drove their bargain in a few hours, and at night we -stood in again for the shore, when the five canoes carried a great -part of the goods on shore, and brought the money back in specie, as -well for that they carried as for all the rest, and at their second -voyage carried all away clear, leaving me nothing on board but my -barrels of flour and pease, which they bade me money for too, but not -so much as I expected.</p> - -<p>Here I found that my Spanish merchants made above seventy thousand -pieces of eight of the cargo I had sold them, upon which I had a great -mind to be acquainted with those merchants on the <i>terra firma</i>, who -were the last customers; for it presently occurred to me that I could -easily go with a sloop from Virginia, and taking a cargo directed on -purpose from England of about £5000 or £6000, I might easily make four -of one. With this view I began to make a kind of an acquaintance with -the Spaniards which came in the canoes, and we became so intimate that -at last, with the consent of the three Spaniards of the Havannah, I -accepted an invitation on shore to their house, which was a little -villa, or rather plantation, where they had an <i>ingenio</i>, that is to -say, a sugar-house, or sugar-work, and there they treated us like -princes.</p> - -<p>I took occasion at this invitation to say that, if I knew how to find -my way thither again, I could visit them once or twice a year, very -much to their advantage and mine too. One of the Spaniards took the -hint, and taking me into a room by myself, “Seignior,” says he, “if -you have any thoughts of coming to this place again, I shall give you -such directions as you shall be sure not to mistake; and, upon either -coming on shore in the night and coming up to this place, or upon -making the signals which we shall give you, we will not fail to come -off to you, and bring money enough for any <i>cargaison</i>” (so they call -it) “that you shall bring.”</p> - -<p>I took all their directions, took their paroles of honour for my -safety, and, without taking any notice to my first three merchants, -laid up the rest in my most secret thoughts, resolving to visit them -again in as short a time as I could; and thus having, in about five -days, finished all our merchandising, we stood off to sea, and made -for the island of Cuba, where I set my three Spaniards on shore with -all their treasure, to their heart’s content, and made the best of my -way to Antigua, where, with all the despatch I could, I sold my two -hundred barrels of flour, which, however, had suffered a little by the -length of the voyage; and having laden the sloop with rum, molasses, -and sugar, I set sail again for the Havannah.</p> - -<p>I was now uneasy indeed, for fear of the pirates, for I was a rich -ship, having, besides goods, near forty thousand pieces of eight in -silver.</p> - -<p>When I came back to the Havannah, I went on shore to wait on the -governor and the corregidore, and to hear what return was had from the -viceroy, and had the good fortune to know that the viceroy had -disallowed that part of the sentence which condemned us as prisoners -and put a ransom on us, which he insisted could not be but in time of -open war. But as to the confiscation, he deferred it to the Chamber or -Council of Commerce at Seville, and the appeal to the king, if such be -preferred.</p> - -<p>This was, in some measure, a very good piece of justice in the -viceroy; for, as we had not been on shore, we could not be legally -imprisoned; and for the rest, I believe if I would have given myself -the trouble to have gone to Old Spain, and have preferred my claim to -both the ship and the cargo, I had recovered them also.</p> - -<p>However, as it was, I was now a freeman without ransom, and my men -were also free, so that all the money which I had deposited, as above, -was returned me; and thus I took my leave of the Havannah, and made -the best of my way for Virginia, where I arrived after a year and a -half’s absence; and notwithstanding all my losses, came home above -forty thousand pieces of eight richer than I went out.</p> - -<p>As to the old affair about the Preston prisoners, that was quite at an -end, for the general pardon passed in Parliament made me perfectly -easy, and I took no more thought about that part. I might here very -usefully observe how necessary and inseparable a companion fear is to -guilt. It was but a few months before that the face of a poor Preston -transport would have frighted me out of my wits; to avoid them I -feigned myself sick, and wrapped my legs in flannel, as if I had the -gout; whereas now they were no more surprise to me, nor was I any more -uneasy to see them, than I was to see any other of the servants of the -plantations.</p> - -<p>And that which was more particular than all was, that, though before I -fancied every one of them would know me and remember me, and -consequently betray and accuse me, now, though I was frequently among -them, and saw most of them, if not all of them, one time or other, -nay, though I remembered several of their faces, and even some of -their names, yet there was not a man of them that ever took the least -notice of me, or of having known or seen me before.</p> - -<p>It would have been a singular satisfaction to me if I could have known -so much as this of them before, and have saved me all the fatigue, -hazard, and misfortune that befell me afterwards; but man, a short -sighted creature, sees so little before him that he can neither -anticipate his joys nor prevent his disasters, be they ever so little -a distance from him.</p> - -<p>I had now my head full of my West India project, and I began to make -provision for it accordingly. I had a full account of what European -goods were most acceptable in New Spain; and, to add to my speed, I -knew that the Spaniards were in great want of European goods, the -galleons from Old Spain having been delayed to an unusual length of -time for the two years before. Upon this account, not having time, as -I thought, to send to England for a cargo of such goods as were most -proper, I resolved to load my sloop with tobacco and rum, the last I -brought from Antigua, and go away to Boston in New England, and to New -York, and see if I could pick up a cargo to my mind.</p> - -<p>Accordingly, I took twenty thousand pieces of eight in money, and my -sloop laden as above, and taking my wife with me, we went away. It was -an odd and new thing at New England to have such a quantity of goods -bought up there by a sloop from Virginia, and especially to be paid -for in ready money, as I did for most of my goods; and this set all -the trading heads upon the stretch, to inquire what and who I was; to -which they had an immediate and direct answer, that I was a very -considerable planter in Virginia, and that was all any of my men on -board the sloop could tell of me, and enough too.</p> - -<p>Well, it was the cause of much speculation among them, as I heard at -second and third hands. Some said, “He is certainly going to Jamaica;” -others said, “He is going to trade with the Spaniards;” others that -“He is going to the South Sea and turn half merchant, half pirate, on -the coast of Chili and Peru;” some one thing, some another, as the men -gossips found their imaginations directed; but we went on with our -business, and laid out twelve thousand pieces of eight, besides our -cargo of rum and tobacco, and went from thence to New York, where we -laid out the rest.</p> - -<p>The chief of the cargo we bought here was fine English broadcloth, -serges, druggets, Norwich stuffs, bays, says, and all kinds of woollen -manufactures, as also linen of all sorts, a very great quantity, and -near £1000 in fine silks of several sorts. Being thus freighted, I -came back safe to Virginia, and with very little addition to my cargo, -began to prepare for my West India voyage.</p> - -<p>I should have mentioned that I had built upon my sloop and raised her -a little, so that I had made her carry twelve guns, and fitted her up -for defence; for I thought she should not be attacked and boarded by a -few Spanish <i>barco longos</i>, as she was before; and I found the benefit -of it afterwards, as you shall hear.</p> - -<p>We set sail the beginning of August, and as I had twice been attacked -by pirates in passing the Gulf of Florida, or among the Bahama -Islands, I resolved, though it was farther about, to stand off to sea, -and so keep, as I believed it would be, out of the way of them.</p> - -<p>We passed the tropic, as near as we could guess, just where the famous -Sir William Phipps fished up the silver from the Spanish plate wreck, -and, standing in between the islands, kept our course W. by S., -keeping under the isle of Cuba, and so running away, trade, as they -call it, into the great Gulf of Mexico, leaving the island of Jamaica -to the S. and S.E., by this means avoiding, as I thought, all the -Spaniards of Cuba or the Havannah.</p> - -<p>As we passed the west point of Cuba three Spanish boats came off to -board us, as they had done before, on the other side of the island. -But they found themselves mistaken; we were too many for them, for we -run out our guns, which they did not perceive before, and firing three -or four shots at them, they retired.</p> - -<p>The next morning they appeared again, being five large boats and a -barque, and gave us chase; but we then spread our Spanish colours, and -brought to to fight them, at which they retired; so we escaped this -danger by the addition of force which we had made to our vessel.</p> - -<p>We now had a fair run for our port, and as I had taken very good -directions, I stood away to the north of St. John d’Ulva, and then -running in for the shore, found the place appointed exactly; and going -on shore, I sent the master of my sloop directly to the <i>ingenio</i>, -where he found the Spanish merchant at his house, and where he dwelt -like a sovereign prince, who welcomed him, and understanding that I -was in a particular boat at the creek, as appointed, he came -immediately with him, and bringing another Spaniard from a villa not -far off, in about four hours they were with me.</p> - -<p>They would have persuaded me to go up to their houses and have stayed -there till the next night, ordering the sloop to stand off as usual, -but I would not consent to let the sloop go to sea without me, so we -went on board directly, and, as the night was almost run, stood off to -sea; so by daybreak we were quite out of sight of land.</p> - -<p>Here we began, as I said before, to open shop, and I found the -Spaniards were extremely surprised at seeing such a cargo—I mean so -large; for, in short, they had cared not if it had been four times as -much. They soon ran through the contents of all the bales we opened -that night, and, with very little dispute about the price, they -approved and accepted all that I showed them; but as they said they -had not money for any greater parcel, they agreed to go on shore the -next evening for more money.</p> - -<p>However, we spent the remainder of the night in looking over and -making inventories or invoices of the rest of the cargo, that so they -might see the goods, know the value, and know what more money they had -to bring.</p> -<br> -<p class="center"><a name="div1_04" href="#div1Ref_04"><img src="images/arrival.png" alt="arrival announced"><br>Colonel Jacque’s arrival is announced</a></p> -<br> - -<p>Accordingly, in the evening we stood in for the shore, and -they -carried part of the cargo with them, borrowing the sloop’s boat to -assist them; and after they had lodged and landed the goods they came -on board again, bringing three of the other merchants with them who -were concerned before, and money enough to clear the whole ship—ay, -and ship and all, if I had been willing to sell her.</p> - -<p>To give them their due, they dealt with me like men of honour. They -were indeed sensible that they bought everything much cheaper of me -than they did before of the three merchants of the Havannah, these -merchants having been, as it were, the hucksters, and bought them -first of me, and then advanced, as I have said, above one hundred per -cent, upon the price they gave me. But yet, at the same time, I -advanced in the price much more now than I did before to the said -Spaniards; nor was it without reason, because of the length and risk -of the voyage, both out and home, which now lay wholly upon me.</p> - -<p>In short, I sold the whole cargo to them, and for which I received -near two hundred thousand pieces of eight in money; besides which, -when they came on board the second time, they brought all their boats -loaden with fresh provisions, hogs, sheep, fowls, sweetmeats, &c., -enough for my whole voyage, all which they made a present of to me. -And thus we finished our traffic to our mutual satisfaction, and -parted with promises of further commerce, and with assurances on their -part of all acts of friendship and assistance that I could desire if -any disaster should befall me in any of these adventures—as indeed -was not improbable, considering the strictness and severity of their -customs in case any people were trading upon their coast.</p> - -<p>I immediately called a council with my little crew which way we should -go back. The mate was for beating it up to windward and getting up to -Jamaica; but as we were too rich to run any risks, and were to take -the best course to get safe home, I thought, and so did the master of -the sloop, that our best way was to coast about the bay, and, keeping -the shore of Florida on board, make the shortest course to the gulf, -and so make for the coast of Carolina, and to put in there into the -first port we could, and wait for any English men-of-war that might be -on the coast to secure us to the capes.</p> - -<p>This was the b—-est course we could take, and proved very safe to us, -excepting that, about the cape of Florida, and on the coast in the -gulf, till we came to the height of St. Augustine, we were several -times visited with the Spaniards’ <i>barco longos</i> and small barks, in -hopes of making a prize of us; but carrying Spanish colours deceived -most of them, and a good tier of guns kept the rest at a distance, so -that we came safe, though once or twice in danger of being run on -shore by a storm of wind—I say, we came safe into Charles River in -Carolina.</p> - -<p>From hence I found means to send a letter home, with an account to my -wife of my good success; and having an account that the coast was -clear of pirates, though there were no men-of-war in the place, I -ventured forward, and, in short, got safe into the Bay of Chesapeake, -that is to say, within the capes of Virginia, and in a few days more -to my own house, having been absent three months and four days.</p> - -<p>Never did any vessel on this side the world make a better voyage in so -short a time that I made in this sloop; for by the most moderate -computation I cleared in these three months £25,000 sterling in ready -money, all the charges of the voyages to New England also being -reckoned up.</p> - -<p>Now was my time to have sat still, contented with what I had got, if -it was in the power of man to know when his good fortune was at the -highest. And more, my prudent wife gave it as her opinion that I -should sit down satisfied and push the affair no farther, and -earnestly persuaded me to do so. But I, that had a door open, as I -thought, to immense treasure, that had found the way to have a stream -of the golden rivers of Mexico flow into my plantation of Virginia, -and saw no hazards more than what were common to all such things in -the prosecution—I say, to me these things looked with another face, -and I dreamed of nothing but millions and hundreds of thousands; so, -contrary to all moderate measures, I pushed on for another voyage, and -laid up a stock of all sorts of goods that I could get together proper -for the trade. I did not indeed go again to New England, for I had by -this time a very good cargo come from England pursuant to a commission -I had sent several months before; so that, in short, my cargo, -according to the invoice now made out, amounted to above £10,000 -sterling first cost, and was a cargo so sorted and so well bought that -I expected to have advanced upon them much more in proportion than I -had done in the cargo before.</p> - -<p>With these expectations we began our second voyage in April, being -about five months after our return from the first. We had not indeed -the same good speed, even in our beginning, as we had at first; for -though we stood off to sea about sixty leagues in order to be out of -the way of the pirates, yet we had not been above five days at sea but -we were visited and rifled by two pirate barks, who, being bound to -the northward, that is to say, the banks of Newfoundland, took away -all our provisions and all our ammunition and small arms, and left us -very ill provided to pursue our voyage; and it being so near home, we -thought it advisable to come about and stand in for the capes again, -to restore our condition and furnish ourselves with stores of all -kinds for our voyage. This took us up about ten days, and we put to -sea again. As for our cargo, the pirates did not meddle with it, being -all bale goods, which they had no present use for, and knew not what -to do with if they had them.</p> - -<p>We met with no other adventure worth naming till, by the same course -that we had steered before, we came into the Gulf of Mexico; and the -first misfortune we met with here was, that, on the back of Cuba, -crossing towards the point of the <i>terra firma</i>, on the coast of -Yucatan, we had sight of the flota of New Spain, that is, of the ships -which come from Carthagena or Porto Bello, and go to the Havannah, in -order to pursue their voyage to Europe.</p> - -<p>They had with them one Spanish man-of-war and three frigates. Two of -the frigates gave us chase; but, it being just at the shutting in of -the day, we soon lost sight of them, and standing to the north, across -the Bay of Mexico, as if we were going to the mouth of Mississippi, -they lost us quite, and in a few days more we made the bottom of the -bay, being the port we were bound for.</p> - -<p>We stood in as usual in the night, and gave notice to our friends; but -instead of their former readiness to come on board, they gave us -notice that we had been seen in the bay, and that notice of us was -given at Vera Cruz and at other places, and that several frigates were -in quest of us, and that three more would be cruising the next morning -in search for us. We could not conceive how this could be; but we were -afterwards told that those three frigates, having lost sight of us in -the night, had made in for the shore, and had given the alarm of us as -of privateers.</p> - -<p>Be that as it would, we had nothing to do but to consider what course -to take immediately. The Spanish merchant’s advice was very good if we -had taken it, namely, to have unladen as many of our bales as we could -that very night by the help of our boat and their canoes, and to make -the best of our way in the morning to the north of the gulf, and take -our fate.</p> - -<p>This my skipper or master thought very well of, but when we began to -put it into execution, we were so confused and in such a hurry, being -not resolved what course to take, that we could not get out above -sixteen bales of all sorts of goods before it began to be too light -and it behoved us to sail. At last the master proposed a medium, which -was, that I should go on shore in the next boat, in which were five -bales of goods more, and that I should stay on shore if the Spanish -merchants would undertake to conceal me, and let them go to sea and -take their chance.</p> - -<p>The Spanish merchants readily undertook to protect me, especially it -being so easy to have me pass for a natural Spaniard, and so they took -me on shore with twenty-one bales of my goods, and the sloop stood off -to sea. If they met with any enemies they were to stand in for the -shore the next night; and we failed not to look well out for them, but -to no purpose, for the next day they were discovered and chased by two -Spanish frigates. They stood from them, and the sloop, being an -excellent sailer, gained so much that they would certainly have been -clear of them when night came on, but a small picaroon of a sloop kept -them company in spite of all they could do, and two or three times -offered to engage them, thereby to give time to the rest to come up; -but the sloop kept her way, and gave them a chase of three days and -nights, having a fresh gale of wind at S.W., till she made the Rio -Grand, or, as the French call it, the Mississippi, and there finding -no remedy, they ran the vessel on shore not far from the fort which -the Spaniards call Pensacola, garrisoned at that time with French. Our -men would have entered the river as a port, but having no pilot, and -the current of the river being strong against them, the sloop ran on -shore, and the men shifted as well as they could in their boats.</p> - -<p>I was now in a very odd condition indeed. My circumstances were in one -sense, indeed, very happy—namely, that I was in the hands of my -friends, for such really they were, and so faithful that no men could -have been more careful of their own safety than were they of mine; and -that which added to the comfort of my new condition was the produce of -my goods, which were gotten on shore by their own advice and -direction, which was a fund sufficient to maintain me with them as -long as I could be supposed to stay there; and if not, the first -merchant to whose house I went assured me that he would give me credit -for twenty thousand pieces of eight if I had occasion for it.</p> - -<p>My greatest affliction was, that I knew not how to convey news to my -wife of my present condition, and how, among many misfortunes of the -voyage, I was yet safe and in good hands.</p> - -<p>But there was no remedy for this part but the great universal cure of -all incurable sorrows, viz., patience; and, indeed, I had a great deal -of reason, not for patience only, but thankfulness, if I had known the -circumstances which I should have been reduced to if I had fallen into -the hands of the Spaniards; the best of which that I could reasonably -have expected had been to have been sent to the mines, or, which was -ten thousand times worse, the Inquisition; or, if I had escaped the -Spaniards, as my men in the sloop did, the hardships they were exposed -to, the dangers they were in, and the miseries they suffered were -still worse in wandering among savages, and the more savage French, -who plundered and stripped them, instead of relieving and supplying -them in their long wilderness journey over the mountains till they -reached the S.W. parts of South Carolina, a journey which, indeed, -deserves to have an account to be given of it by itself. I say, all -these things, had I known of them, would have let me see that I had a -great deal of reason, not only to be patient under my present -circumstances, but satisfied and thankful.</p> - -<p>Here, as I said, my patron, the merchant, entertained me like a -prince; he made my safety his peculiar care, and while we were in any -expectation of the sloop being taken and brought into Vera Cruz, he -kept me retired at a little house in a wood, where he kept a fine -aviary of all sorts of American birds, and out of which he yearly sent -some as presents to his friends in Old Spain.</p> - -<p>This retreat was necessary lest, if the sloop should be taken and -brought into Vera Cruz, and the men be brought in prisoners, they -should be tempted to give an account of me as their supercargo or -merchant, and where both I and the twenty-one bales of goods were set -on shore. As for the goods, he made sure work with them, for they were -all opened, taken out of the bales, and separated, and, being mixed -with other European goods which came by the galleons, were made up in -new package, and sent to Mexico in several parcels, some to one -merchant, some to another, so that it was impossible to have found -them out, even if they had had information of them.</p> - -<p>In this posture, and in apprehension of some bad news of the sloop, -I remained at the villa, or house in the vale—for so they called -it—about five weeks. I had two negroes appointed to wait on me, one -of which was my purveyor, or my cook, the other my valet; and my -friend, the master of all, came constantly every evening to visit and -sup with me, when we walked out together into the aviary, which was, -of its kind, the most beautiful thing that ever I saw in the world.</p> - -<p>After above five weeks’ retreat of this kind, he had good intelligence -of the fate of the sloop, viz., that the two frigates and a sloop had -chased her till she ran on ground near the fort of Pensacola; that -they saw her stranded and broke in pieces by the force of the waves, -the men making their escape in their boat. This news was brought, it -seems, by the said frigates to La Vera Cruz, where my friend went on -purpose to be fully informed, and received the account from one of the -captains of the frigates, and discoursed with him at large about it.</p> - -<p>I was better pleased with the loss of the sloop and all my cargo, the -men being got on shore and escaping, than I should have been with the -saving the whole cargo, if the men had fallen into the hands of the -Spaniards; for now I was safe, whereas then, it being supposed they -would have been forced to some discovery about me, I must have fled, -and should have found it very difficult to have made my escape, even -with all that my friends could have done for me too.</p> - -<p>But now I was perfectly easy, and my friend, who thought confining me -at the house in the vale no longer needful, brought me publicly home -to his dwelling-house, as a merchant come from Old Spain by the last -galleons, and who, having been at Mexico, was come to reside with him.</p> - -<p>Here I was dressed like a Spaniard of the better sort, had three -negroes to attend me, and was called Don Ferdinand de Villa Moresa, in -Castilia Feja—that is to say, in Old Castile.</p> - -<p>Here I had nothing to do but to walk about and ride out into the -woods, and come home again to enjoy the pleasantest and most agreeable -retirement in the world; for certainly no men in the world live in -such splendour and wallow in such immense treasures as the merchants -of this place.</p> - -<p>They live, as I have said, in a kind of country retreat at their -villas, or, as we would call them in Virginia, their plantations, and, -as they do call them, their <i>ingenios</i>, where they make their indigo -and their sugars. But they have also houses and warehouses at Vera -Cruz, where they go twice a year, when the galleons arrive from Old -Spain, and when those galleons relade for their return. And it was -surprising to me, when I went to La Vera Cruz with them, to see what -prodigious consignments they had from their correspondents in Old -Spain, and with what despatch they managed them; for no sooner were -the cases, packs, and bales of European goods brought into their -warehouses but they were opened and repacked by porters and packers of -their own—that is to say, negroes and Indian servants—and being made -up into new bales and separate parcels, were all despatched again by -horses for Mexico, and directed to their several merchants there, and -the remainder carried home, as above, to the <i>ingenio</i> where they -lived, which was near thirty English miles from Vera Cruz, so that in -about twenty days their warehouses were again entirely free. At La -Vera Cruz, all their business was over there, and they and all their -servants retired; for they stayed no longer there than needs must, -because of the unhealthiness of the air.</p> - -<p>After the goods were thus despatched, it was equally surprising to see -how soon, and with what exactness, the merchants of Mexico to whom -those cargoes were separately consigned made the return, and how it -came all in silver or in gold, so that their warehouses in a few -months were piled up, even to the ceiling, with chests of pieces of -eight and with bars of silver.</p> - -<p>It is impossible to describe in the narrow compass of this work with -what exactness and order, and yet with how little hurry, and not the -least confusion, everything was done, and how soon a weight of -business of such importance and value was negotiated and finished, the -goods repacked, invoices made, and everything despatched and gone; so -that in about five weeks all the goods they had received from Europe -by the galleons were disposed of and entered in their journals to the -proper account of their merchant to whom they were respectively -consigned; from thence they had book-keepers who drew out the invoices -and wrote the letters, which the merchant himself only read over and -signed, and then other hands copied all again into other books.</p> - -<p>I can give no estimate of the value of the several consignments they -received by that flota; but I remember that, when the galleons went -back, they shipped on board, at several times, one million three -hundred thousand pieces of eight in specie, besides a hundred and -eighty bales or bags of cochineal and about three hundred bales of -indigo; but they were so modest that they said this was for themselves -and their friends. That is to say, the several merchants of Mexico -consigned large quantities of bullion to them, to ship on board and -consign according to their order; but then I know also that, for all -that, they were allowed commission, so that their gain was very -considerable even that way also.</p> - -<p>I had been with them at La Vera Cruz, and came back again before we -came to an account for the goods which I had brought on shore in the -twenty-one bales, which, by the account we brought them to (leaving a -piece of everything to be governed by our last market), amounted to -eight thousand five hundred and seventy pieces of eight, all which -money my friend—for so I must now call him—brought me in specie, and -caused his negroes to pile them up in one corner of my apartment; so -that I was indeed still very rich, all things considered.</p> - -<p>There was a bale which I had caused to be packed up on purpose in -Virginia, and which indeed I had written for from England, being -chiefly of fine English broadcloths, silk, silk druggets, and fine -stuffs of several kinds, with some very fine hollands, which I set -apart for presents, as I should find occasion; and as, whatever hurry -I was in at carrying the twenty-one bales of goods on shore, I did not -forget to let this bale be one of them, so, when we came to a sale for -the rest, I told them that this was a pack with clothes and -necessaries for my own wearing and use, and so desired it might not be -opened with the rest, which was accordingly observed, and that bale or -pack was brought into my apartment.</p> - -<p>This bale was, in general, made up of several smaller bales, which I -had directed, so that I might have room to make presents, equally -sorted as the circumstance might direct me. However, they were all -considerable, and I reckoned the whole bale cost me near £200 sterling -in England; and though my present circumstances required some limits -to my bounty in making presents, yet the obligation I was under being -so much the greater, especially to this one friendly, generous -Spaniard, I thought I could not do better than, by opening two of the -smaller bales, join them together, and make my gift some thing -suitable to the benefactor, and to the respect he had shown me. -Accordingly, I took two bales, and, laying the goods together, the -contents were as follows:—</p> - -<p>Two pieces of fine English broadcloth, the finest that could be got in -London, divided, as was that which I gave to the governor at the -Havannah, into fine crimson in grain, fine light mixtures, and fine -black.</p> - -<p>Four pieces of fine holland, of 7s. to 8s. per ell in London.</p> - -<p>Twelve pieces of fine silk drugget and duroys, for men’s wear.</p> - -<p>Six pieces of broad silks, two damasks, two brocaded silks, and two -mantuas.</p> - -<p>With a box of ribands and a box of lace; the last cost about £40 -sterling in England.</p> - -<p> -This handsome parcel I laid open in my apartment, and brought him -upstairs one morning, on pretence to drink chocolate with me, which he -ordinarily did; when, as we drank chocolate and was merry, I said to -him, though I had sold him almost all my cargo and taken his money, -yet the truth was, that I ought not to have sold them to him, but to -have laid them all at his feet, for that it was to his direction I -owed the having anything saved at all.</p> - -<p>He smiled, and, with a great deal of friendship in his face, told me -that not to have paid me for them would have been to have plundered a -shipwreck, which had been worse than to have robbed an hospital.</p> - -<p>At last I told him I had two requests to make to him, which must not -be denied. I told him I had a small present to make him, which I would -give him a reason why he should not refuse to accept; and the second -request I would make after the first was granted. He said he would -have accepted my present from me if I had not been under a disaster, -but as it was it would be cruel and ungenerous. But I told him he was -obliged to hear my reason for his accepting it. Then I told him that -this parcel was made up for him by name by my wife and I in Virginia, -and his name set on the marks of the bale, and accordingly I showed -him the marks, which was indeed on one of the bales, but I had doubled -it now, as above, so that I told him these were his own proper goods; -and, in short, I pressed him so to receive them that he made a bow; -and I said no more, but ordered my negro, that is to say, his negro -that waited on me, to carry them all, except the two boxes, into his -apartments, but would not let him see the particulars till they were -all carried away.</p> - -<p>After he was gone about a quarter of an hour, he came in raving and -almost swearing, and in a great passion, but I could easily see he was -exceedingly pleased; and told me, had he known the particulars, he -would never have suffered them to have gone as he did, and at last -used the very same compliment that the governor at the Havannah used, -viz., that it was a present fit for a viceroy of Mexico rather than -for him.</p> - -<p>When he had done, he then told me he remembered I had two requests to -him, and that one was not to be told till after the first was granted, -and he hoped now I had something to ask of him that was equal to the -obligation I laid upon him.</p> - -<p>I told him I knew it was not the custom in Spain for a stranger to -make presents to the ladies, and that I would not in the least doubt -but that, whatever the ladies of his family required as proper for -their use, he would appropriate to them as he thought fit; but that -there were two little boxes in the parcel which my wife with her own -hand had directed to the ladies; and I begged he would be pleased with -his own hand to give them in my wife’s name, as directed; that I was -only the messenger, but that I could not be honest if I did not -discharge myself of the trust reposed in me.</p> - -<p>These were the two boxes of ribands and lace, which, knowing the -nicety of the ladies in Spain, or rather of the Spaniards about their -women, I had made my wife pack up, and directed with her own hand, as -I have said.</p> - -<p>He smiled, and told me it was true the Spaniards did not ordinarily -admit so much freedom among the women as other nations; but he hoped, -he said, I would not think the Spaniards thought all their women -whores, or that all Spaniards were jealous of their wives; that, as to -my present, since he had agreed to accept of it, I should have the -direction of what part I pleased to his wife and daughters; for he had -three daughters.</p> - -<p>Here I strained courtesies again, and told him by no means; I would -direct nothing of that kind. I only begged that he would with his own -hand present to his donna, or lady, the present designed her by my -wife, and that he would present it in her name, now living in -Virginia. He was extremely pleased with the nicety I used; and I saw -him present it to her accordingly, and could see, at the opening of -it, that she was extremely pleased with the present itself, as indeed -might very well be, for in that country it was worth a very -considerable sum of money.</p> - -<p>Though I was used with an uncommon friendship before, and nothing -could well be desired more, yet the grateful sense I showed of it in -the magnificence of this present was not lost, and the whole family -appeared sensible of it; so that I must allow that presents, where -they can be made in such a manner, are not without their influence, -where the persons were not at all mercenary either before or after.</p> - -<p>I had here now a most happy and comfortable retreat, though it was a -kind of an exile. Here I enjoyed everything I could think of that was -agreeable and pleasant, except only a liberty of going home, which, -for that reason perhaps, was the only thing I desired in the world; -for the grief of one absent comfort is oftentimes capable of -embittering all the other enjoyments in the world.</p> - -<p>Here I enjoyed the moments which I had never before known how to -employ—I mean that here I learned to look back upon a long ill-spent -life, blessed with infinite advantage, which I had no heart given me -till now to make use of, and here I found just reflections were the -utmost felicity of human life.</p> - -<p>Here I wrote these memoirs, having to add to the pleasure of looking -back with due reflections the benefit of a violent fit of the gout, -which, as it is allowed by most people, clears the head, restores the -memory, and qualifies us to make the most, and just, and useful -remarks upon our own actions.</p> - -<p>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 has caused it to be. If any one that reads my story pleases -to make the same just reflections which I acknowledge I ought to have -made, he will reap the benefit of my misfortunes perhaps more than I -have done myself. ’Tis 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 lives may be many ways made -useful and instructing to those who read them, if moral and religious -improvement and reflections are made by those that write them.</p> - -<p>There remains many things in the course of this unhappy life of mine, -though I have left so little a part of it to speak of, that is worth -giving a large and distinct account of, and which gives room for just -reflections of a kind which I have not made yet. Particularly, I think -it just to add how, in collecting the various changes and turns in my -affairs, I saw clearer than ever I had done before how an invincible -overruling Power, a hand influenced from above, governs all our -actions of every kind, limits all our designs, and orders the events -of everything relating to us.</p> - -<p>And from this observation it necessarily occurred to me how just it -was that we should pay the homage of all events to Him; that as He -guided, and had even made the chain of cause and consequences, which -nature in general strictly obeyed, so to Him should be given the -honour of all events, the consequences of those causes, as the first -Mover and Maker of all things.</p> - -<p>I, who had hitherto lived, as might be truly said, without God in the -world, began now to see farther into all those things than I had ever -yet been capable of before, and this brought me at last to look with -shame and blushes upon such a course of wickedness as I had gone -through in the world. I had been bred, indeed, to nothing of either -religious or moral knowledge. What I gained of either was, first, by -the little time of civil life which I lived in Scotland, where my -abhorrence of the wickedness of my captain and comrade, and some -sober, religious company I fell into, first gave me some knowledge of -good and evil, and showed me the beauty of a sober, religious life, -though, with my leaving that country, it soon left me too; or, -secondly, the modest hints and just reflections of my steward, whom I -called my tutor, who was a man of sincere religion, good principles, -and a real, true penitent for his past miscarriages. Oh! had I with -him sincerely repented of what was past, I had not for twenty-four -years together lived a life of levity and profligate wickedness after -it.</p> - -<p>But here I had, as I said, leisure to reflect and to repent, to call -to mind things past, and, with a just detestation, learn, as Job says, -to abhor myself in dust and ashes.</p> - -<p>It is with this temper that I have written my story. I would have all -that design to read it prepare to do so with the temper of penitents, -and remember with how much advantage they may make their penitent -reflections at home, under the merciful dispositions of Providence, in -peace, plenty, and ease, rather than abroad, under the discipline of a -transported criminal, as my wife and my tutor, or under the miseries -and distresses of a shipwrecked wanderer, as my skipper or captain of -the sloop, who, as I hear, died a very great penitent, labouring in -the deserts and mountains to find his way home to Virginia, by the way -of Carolina, whither the rest of the crew reached after infinite -dangers and hardships; or in exile, however favourably circumstanced, -as mine, in absence from my family, and for some time in no probable -view of ever seeing them any more.</p> - -<p>Such, I say, may repent with advantage; but how few are they that -seriously look in till their way is hedged up and they have no other -way to look!</p> - -<p>Here, I say, I had leisure to repent. How far it pleases God to give -the grace of repentance where He gives the opportunity of it is not -for me to say of myself. It is sufficient that I recommend it to all -that read this story, that, when they find their lives come up in any -degree to any similitude of cases, they will inquire by me, and ask -themselves, Is not this the time to repent? Perhaps the answer may -touch them.</p> - -<p>I have only to add to what was then written, that my kind friends the -Spaniards, finding no other method presented for conveying me to my -home—that is to say, to Virginia—got a license for me to come in the -next galleons, as a Spanish merchant, to Cadiz, where I arrived safe -with all my treasure; for he suffered me to be at no expenses in his -house; and from Cadiz I soon got my passage on board an English -merchantship for London, from whence I sent an account of my -adventures to my wife, and where, in about five months more, she came -over to me, leaving with full satisfaction the management of all our -affairs in Virginia in the same faithful hands as before.</p> - -<h5>END OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL JACQUE</h5> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h3><a name="div2_True-born" href="#div2Ref_True-born">THE TRUE-BORN ENGLISHMAN</a></h3> - -<h4>AN EXPLANATORY PREFACE</h4> - -<p> -It is not that I see any reason to alter my opinion in anything I have written -which occasions this epistle, but I find it necessary, for the satisfaction of -some persons of honour as well as wit, to pass a short explication upon it, and -tell the world what I mean, or rather what I do not mean, in some things -wherein I find I am liable to be misunderstood. -</p> - -<p>I confess myself something surprised to hear that I am taxed with -bewraying my own nest and abusing our nation by discovering the -meanness of our original, in order to make the English contemptible -abroad and at home; in which I think they are mistaken. For why should -not our neighbours be as good as we to derive from? And I must add -that, had we been an unmixed nation, I am of opinion it had been to -our disadvantage. For, to go no further, we have three nations about -us as clear from mixtures of blood as any in the world, and I know not -which of them I could wish ourselves to be like—I mean the Scots, the -Welsh, and Irish; and if I were to write a reverse to the satire, I -would examine all the nations of Europe, and prove that those nations -which are most mixed are the best, and have least of barbarism and -brutality among them; and abundance of reasons might be given for it, -too long to bring into a preface.</p> - -<p>But I give this hint to let the world know that I am far from thinking -it is a satire upon the English nation to tell them they are derived -from all the nations under heaven—that is, from several nations. Nor -is it meant to undervalue the original of the English, for we see no -reason to like them the worse, being the relics of Nomans, Danes, -Saxons, and Normans, than we should have done if they had remained -Britons; that is, than if they had been all Welshmen.</p> - -<p>But the intent of the satire is pointed at the vanity of those who -talk of their antiquity and value themselves upon their pedigree, -their ancient families, and being true-born; whereas it is impossible -we should be true-born, and if we could, should have lost by the -bargain.</p> - -<p>Those sort of people who call themselves true-born and tell long -stories of their families, and, like a nobleman of Venice, think a -foreigner ought not to walk on the same side of the street with them, -are owned to be meant in this satire. What they would infer from their -own original I know not, nor is it easy to make out whether they are -the better or the worse for their ancestors. Our English nation may -value themselves for their wit, wealth, and courage, and I believe -few will dispute it with them; but for long originals and ancient -true-born families of English, I would advise them to waive the -discourse. A true Englishman is one that deserves a character, and I -have nowhere lessened him that I know of; but as for a true-born -Englishman, I confess I do not understand him.</p> - -<p>From hence I only infer that an Englishman, of all men, ought not to -despise foreigners as such, and I think the inference is just, since -what they are to-day we were yesterday, and to-morrow they will be -like us. If foreigners misbehave in their several stations and -employments, I have nothing to do with that; the laws are open to -punish them equally with natives, and let them have no favour.</p> - -<p>But when I see the town full of lampoons and invectives against -Dutchmen only because they are foreigners, and the King reproached and -insulted by insolent pedants and ballad-making poets for employing -foreigners, and for being a foreigner himself, I confess myself moved -by it to remind our nation of their own original, thereby to let them -see what a banter is put upon ourselves in it, since, speaking of -Englishmen <i>ab origine</i>, we are really foreigners ourselves.</p> - -<p>I could go on to prove it is also impolitic in us to discourage -foreigners, since it is easy to make it appear that the multitudes of -foreign nations who have taken sanctuary here have been the greatest -additions to the wealth and strength of the nation, the great -essential whereof is the number of its in habitants. Nor would this -nation have ever arrived to the degree of wealth and glory it now -boasts of if the addition of foreign nations, both as to manufactures -and arms, had not been helpful to it. This is so plain that he who is -ignorant of it is too dull to be talked with.</p> - -<p>The satire, therefore, I must allow to be just till I am otherwise -convinced, because nothing can be more ridiculous than to hear our -people boast of that antiquity which, if it had been true, would have -left us in so much worse a condition than we are in now; whereas we -ought rather to boast among our neighbours that we are a part of -themselves, or the same original as they, but bettered by our climate, -and, like our language and manufactures, derived from them and -improved by us to a perfection greater than they can pretend to.</p> - -<p>This we might have valued ourselves upon without vanity; but to disown -our descent from them, talking big of our ancient families and long -originals, and stand at a distance from foreigners, like the -enthusiast in religion, with a “Stand off; I am more holy than -thou!”—this is a thing so ridiculous in a nation, derived from -foreigners as we are, that I could not but attack them as I have done.</p> - -<p>And whereas I am threatened to be called to a public account for this -freedom, and the publisher of this has been new-papered in gaol -already for it, though I see nothing in it for which the Government -can be displeased, yet if at the same time those people who, with an -unlimited arrogance in print, every day affront the King, prescribe -the Parliament, and lampoon the Government may be either punished or -restrained, I am content to stand and fall with the public justice of -my native country which I am not sensible I have anywhere injured.</p> - -<p>Nor would I be misunderstood concerning the clergy, with whom, if I -have taken any license more than becomes a satire, I question not but -those gentlemen, who are men of letters, are also men of so much -candour as to allow me a loose at the crimes of the guilty without -thinking the whole profession lashed, who are innocent. I profess to -have very mean thoughts of those gentlemen who have deserted their own -principles, and exposed even their morals as well as loyalty, but not -at all to think it affects any but such as are concerned in the fact.</p> - -<p>Nor would I be misrepresented as to the ingratitude of the English to -the King and his friends, as if I meant the English as a nation are -so. The contrary is so apparent, that I would hope it should not be -suggested of me; and, therefore, when I have brought in Britannia -speaking of the King, I suppose her to be the representative or mouth -of the nation as a body. But if I say we are full of such who daily -affront the King and abuse his friends, who print scurrilous -pamphlets, virulent lampoons, and reproachful public banter against -both the King’s person and Government, I say nothing but what is too -true. And that the satire is directed at such I freely own, and cannot -say but I should think it very hard to be censured for this satire -while such remain unquestioned and tacitly approved. That I can mean -none but such is plain from these few lines:—</p> - -<p class="poem"> -“Ye Heavens, regard! Almighty Jove, look down,<br> -And view thy injured monarch on the throne.<br> -On their ungrateful heads due vengeance take<br ->Who sought his aid and then his part forsake.” -</p> - -<p>If I have fallen upon our vices, I hope none but the vicious will be -angry. As for writing for interest, I disown it. I have neither place, -nor pension, nor prospect; nor seek none, nor will have none. If -matter of fact justifies the truth of the crimes, the satire is just. -As to the poetic liberties, I hope the crime is pardonable. I am -content to be stoned provided none will attack me but the innocent.</p> - -<p>If my countrymen would take the hint and grow better-natured from my -ill-natured poem, as some call it, I would say this of it, that though -it is far from the best satire that ever was written, it would do the -most good that ever satire did.</p> - -<p>And yet I am ready to ask pardon of some gentlemen too, who, though -they are Englishmen, have good-nature enough to see themselves -reproved, and can bear it. Those are gentlemen in a true sense that -can bear to be told of their <i>faux pas</i> and not abuse the reprover. To -such I must say this is no satire; they are exceptions to the general -rule; and I value my performance from their generous approbation more -than I can from any opinion I have of its worth.</p> - -<p>The hasty errors of my verse I made my excuse for before; and since -the time I have been upon it has been but little, and my leisure less, -I have all along strove rather to make the thoughts explicit than the -poem correct. However, I have mended some faults in this edition, and -the rest must be placed to my account.</p> - -<p>As to answers, banters, true English Billingsgate, I expect them -till nobody will buy, and then the shop will be shut. Had I wrote it -for the gain of the press, I should have been concerned at its -being printed again and again by pirates, as they call them, and -paragraph-men; but would they but do it justice and print it true -according to the copy, they are welcome to sell it for a penny if they -please.</p> - -<p>The pence indeed is the end of their works. I will engage, if nobody -will buy, nobody will write. And not a patriot-poet of them all now -will, in defence of his native country—which I have abused, they -say—print an answer to it, and give it about for God’s sake.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>THE PREFACE</h4> -<br> - -<p>The end of satire is reformation; and the author, though he -doubts the -work of conversion is at a general stop, has put his hand to the -plough.</p> - -<p>I expect a storm of ill language from the fury of the town, and -especially from those whose English talent it is to rail. And without -being taken for a conjuror, I may venture to foretell that I shall be -cavilled at about my mean style, rough verse, and incorrect language; -things I might indeed have taken more care in, but the book is -printed; and though I see some faults, it is too late to mend them. -And this is all I think needful to say to them.</p> - -<p>Possibly somebody may take me for a Dutchman, in which they are -mistaken. But I am one that would be glad to see Englishmen behave -themselves better to strangers and to governors also, that one might -not be reproached in foreign countries for belonging to a nation that -wants manners.</p> - -<p>I assure you, gentlemen, strangers use us better abroad; and we can -give no reason but our ill-nature for the contrary here.</p> - -<p>Methinks an Englishman, who is so proud of being called a good fellow, -should be civil; and it cannot be denied but we are in many cases, and -particularly to strangers, the churlishest people alive.</p> - -<p>As to vices, who can dispute our intemperance, while an honest drunken -fellow is a character in a man’s praise? All our reformations are -banters, and will be so till our magistrates and gentry reform -themselves by way of example. Then, and not till then, they may be -expected to punish others without blushing.</p> - -<p>As to our ingratitude, I desire to be understood of that particular -people who, pretending to be Protestants, have all along endeavoured -to reduce the liberties and religion of this nation into the hands of -King James and his Popish Powers; together with such who enjoy the -peace and protection of the present Government, and yet abuse and -affront the King, who procured it, and openly profess their uneasiness -under him. These, by whatsoever names or titles they are dignified or -distinguished, are the people aimed at; nor do I disown but that it is -so much the temper of an Englishman to abuse his benefactor that I -could be glad to see it rectified.</p> - -<p>Those who think I have been guilty of any error in exposing the crimes -of my own countrymen to themselves may, among many honest instances of -the like nature, find the same thing in Mr. Cowley, in his imitation -of the second Olympic ode of Pindar. His words are these—</p> -<br> -<div style="margin-left:10%"> -<p style="text-indent:-10px; margin-bottom:0px">“But in this thankless world the givers</p> -<p class="t2">Are envied even by the receivers:</p> -<p style="margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">’Tis now the cheap and frugal fashion<br>Rather to hide than pay an obligation.</p> -<p class="t2">Nay, ’tis much worse than so;<br>It now an artifice doth grow<br>Wrongs and outrages to do,</p> -<p style="margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Lest men should think we owe.”</p> -</div> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>THE INTRODUCTION</h4> -<br> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Speak, Satire; for there’s none can tell like thee<br> -Whether ’tis folly, pride, or knavery<br> -That makes this discontented land appear<br> -Less happy now in times of peace than war?<br> -Why civil feuds disturb the nation more<br> -Than all our bloody wars have done before?</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Fools out of favour grudge at knaves in place<br> -And men are always honest in disgrace:<br> -The Court preferments make men knaves in course;<br> -But they which would be in them would be worse.<br> -’Tis not at foreigners that we repine,<br> -Would foreigners their perquisites resign:<br> -The grand contention ’s plainly to be seen,<br> -To get some men put out, and some put in.<br> -For this our Senators make long harangues,<br> -And florid Members whet their polished tongues.<br> -Statesmen are always sick of one disease,<br> -And a good pension gives them present ease:<br> -That’s the specific makes them all content<br> -With any King and any Government.<br> -Good patriots at Court abuses rail,<br> -And all the nation’s grievances bewail;<br> -But when the sovereign balsam’s once applied,<br> -The zealot never fails to change his side;<br> -And when he must the golden key resign,<br> -The railing spirit comes about again.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Who shall this bubbled nation disabuse,<br> -While they their own felicities refuse,<br> -Who at the wars have made such mighty pother,<br> -And now are falling out with one another:<br> -With needless fears the jealous nation fill,<br> -And always have been saved against their will:<br> -Who fifty millions sterling have disbursed,<br> -To be with peace and too much plenty cursed:<br> -Who their old monarch eagerly undo,<br> -And yet uneasily obey the new?<br> -Search, Satire, search: a deep incision make;<br> -The poison’s strong, the antidote’s too weak.<br> -’Tis pointed Truth must manage this dispute,<br> -And downright English, Englishmen confute.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Whet thy just anger at the nation’s pride,<br> -And with keen phrase repel the vicious tide;<br> -To Englishmen their own beginnings show,<br> -And ask them why they slight their neighbours so.<br> -Go back to elder times and ages past,<br> -And nations into long oblivion cast;<br> -To old Britannia’s youthful days retire,<br> -And there for true-born Englishmen inquire.<br> -Britannia freely will disown the name,<br> -And hardly knows herself from whence they came<br> -Wonders that they of all men should pretend<br> -To birth and blood, and for a name contend.<br> -Go back to causes where our follies dwell,<br> -And fetch the dark original from hell:<br> -Speak, Satire, for there’s none like thee can tell.</p> - -<h3>THE TRUE-BORN ENGLISHMAN</h3> - -<h4>PART I</h4> - -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Wherever God erects a house of prayer,<br> -The Devil always builds a chapel there:<a name="div4Ref_11" href="#div4_11"><sup>[11]</sup></a><br> -And ’twill be found upon examination,<br> -The latter has the largest congregation:<br> -For ever since he first debauched the mind,<br> -He made a perfect conquest of mankind.<br> -With uniformity of service, he<br> -Reigns with a general aristocracy.<br> -No non-conforming sects disturb his reign,<br> -For of his yoke there’s very few complain.<br> -He knows the genius and the inclination,<br> -And matches proper sins for every nation,<br> -He needs no standing-army government;<br> -He always rules us by our own consent:<br> -His laws are easy, and his gentle sway<br> -Makes it exceeding pleasant to obey:<br> -The list of his vicegerents and commanders,<br> -Outdoes your Cæsars or your Alexanders.<br> -They never fail of his infernal aid,<br> -And he’s as certain ne’er to be betrayed.<br> -Through all the world they spread his vast command,<br> -And Death’s eternal empire is maintained.<br> -They rule so politicly and so well,<br> -As if they were Lords Justices of Hell,<br> -Duly divided to debauch mankind,<br> -And plant infernal dictates in his mind.<p> -Pride, the first peer, and president of Hell,<br> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">To his share Spain, the largest province, fell.<br> -The subtile Prince thought fittest to bestow<br> -On these the golden mines of Mexico,<br> -With all the silver mountains of Peru,<br> -Wealth which would in wise hands the world undo:<br> -Because he knew their genius was such,<br> -Too lazy and too haughty to be rich.<br> -So proud a people, so above their fate,<br> -That if reduced to beg, they’ll beg in state;<br> -Lavish of money to be counted brave,<br> -And proudly starve because they scorn to save.<br> -Never was nation in the world before<br> -So very rich and yet so very poor.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Lust chose the torrid zone of Italy,<br> -Where blood ferments in rapes and sodomy:<br> -Where swelling veins overflow with liquid streams,<br> -With heat impregnate from Vesuvian flames:<br> -Whose flowing sulphur forms infernal lakes,<br> -And human body of the soil partakes.<br> -Their nature ever burns with hot desires,<br> -Fanned with luxuriant air from subterranean fires;<br> -Here, undisturbed in floods of scalding lust,<br> -The Infernal King reigns with infernal gust.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Drunkenness, the darling favourite of Hell,<br> -Chose Germany to rule; and rules so well,<br> -No subjects more obsequiously obey,<br> -None please so well or are so pleased as they.<br> -The cunning artist manages so well,<br> -He lets them bow to Heaven and drink to Hell.<br> -If but to wine and him they homage pay,<br> -He cares not to what deity they pray,<br> -What God they worship most, or in what way.<br> -Whether by Luther, Calvin, or by Rome<br> -They sail for Heaven, by Wine he steers them home.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Ungoverned Passion settled first in France,<br> -Where mankind lives in haste and thrives by chance;<br> -A dancing nation, fickle and untrue,<br> -Have oft undone themselves and others too;<br> -Prompt the infernal dictates to obey,<br> -And in Hell’s favour none more great than they.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">The Pagan world he blindly leads away,<br> -And personally rules with arbitrary sway;<br> -The mask thrown off, plain Devil his title stands,<br> -And what elsewhere he tempts he there commands.<br> -There with full gust the ambition of his mind<br> -Governs, as he of old in Heaven designed.<br> -Worshipped as God, his Paynim altars smoke,<br> -Embrued with blood of those that him invoke.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">The rest by Deputies he rules as well,<br> -And plants the distant colonies of Hell.<br> -By them his secret power he maintains,<br> -And binds the world in his infernal chains.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">By Zeal the Irish, and the Russ by Folly<br> -Fury the Dane, the Swede by Melancholy;<br> -By stupid Ignorance the Muscovite;<br> -The Chinese by a child of Hell called Wit<br> -Wealth makes the Persian too effeminate,<br> -And Poverty the Tartars desperate;<br> -The Turks and Moors by Mah’met he subdues,<br> -And God has given him leave to rule the Jews.<br> -Rage rules the Portuguese and Fraud the Scotch,<br> -Revenge the Pole and Avarice the Dutch.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Satire, be kind, and draw a silent veil<br> -Thy native England’s vices to conceal;<br> -Or, if that task’s impossible to do,<br> -At least be just and show her virtues too—<br> -Too great the first; alas, the last too few!</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">England, unknown as yet, unpeopled lay;<br> -Happy had she remained so to this day,<br> -And not to every nation been a prey.<br> -Her open harbours and her fertile plains<br> -(The merchant’s glory those, and these the swain’s)<br> -To every barbarous nation have betrayed her,<br> -Who conquer her as oft as they invade her;<br> -So beauty’s guarded but by innocence,<br> -That ruins her, which should be her defence.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Ingratitude, a devil of black renown,<br> -Possessed her very early for his own.<br> -An ugly, surly, sullen, selfish spirit,<br> -Who Satan’s worst perfections does inherit;<br> -Second to him in malice and in force,<br> -All devil without, and all within him worse.<br> -He made her first-born race to be so rude,<br> -And suffered her so oft to be subdued;<br> -By several crowds of wandering thieves o’errun,<br> -Often unpeopled, and as oft undone;<br> -While every nation that her powers reduced<br> -Their languages and manners introduced.<br> -From whose mixed relics our compounded breed<br> -By spurious generation does succeed,<br> -Making a race uncertain and uneven,<br> -Derived from all the nations under Heaven.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">The Romans first with Julius Cæsar came,<br> -Including all the nations of that name,<br> -Gauls, Greeks, and Lombards, and, by computation<br> -Auxiliaries or slaves of every nation.<br> -With Hengist, Saxons; Danes with Sueno came,<br> -In search of plunder, not in search of fame.<br> -Scots, Picts, and Irish from the Hibernian shore,<br> -And conquering William brought the Normans o’er.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">All these their barbarous offspring left behind,<br> -The dregs of armies, they of all mankind;<br> -Blended with Britons, who before were here,<br> -Of whom the Welsh ha’ blessed the character.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">From this amphibious ill-born mob began<br> -That vain, ill-natured thing, an Englishman.<br> -The customs, surnames, languages, and manners<br> -Of all these nations are their own explainers:<br> -Whose relics are so lasting and so strong,<br> -They ha’ left a shibboleth upon our tongue,<br> -By which with easy search you may distinguish<br> -Your Roman-Saxon-Danish Norman English.<br> -The great invading Norman<a name="div4Ref_12" href="#div4_12"><sup>[12]</sup></a> -let us know<br> -What conquerors in after times might do.<br> -To every musketeer<a name="div4Ref_13" href="#div4_13"><sup>[13]</sup></a> he -brought to town,<br> -He gave the lands which never were his own.<br> -When first the English crown he did obtain,<br> -He did not send his Dutchmen back again.<br> -No reassumptions in his reign were known,<br> -D’Avenant might there ha’ let his book alone.<br> -No Parliament his army could disband;<br> -He raised no money, for he paid in land.<br> -He gave his legions their eternal station,<br> -And made them all freeholders of the nation.<br> -He cantoned out the country to his men,<br> -And every soldier was a denizen.<br> -The rascals thus enriched, he called them lords,<br> -To please their upstart pride with new-made words,<br> -And Doomsday Book his tyranny records.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">And here begins our ancient pedigree,<br> -That so exalts our poor nobility:<br> -’Tis that from some French trooper they derive,<br> -Who with the Norman bastard did arrive;<br> -The trophies of the families appear,<br> -Some show the sword, the bow, and some the spear,<br> -Which their great ancestor, forsooth, did wear.<br> -These in the herald’s register remain,<br> -Their noble mean extraction to explain,<br> -Yet who the hero was, no man can tell,<br> -Whether a drummer or a colonel:<br> -The silent record blushes to reveal<br> -Their undescended dark original.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">But grant the best, how came the change to pass,<br> -A true-born Englishman of Norman race?<br> -A Turkish horse can show more history<br> -To prove his well-descended family.<br> -Conquest, as by the moderns<a name="div4Ref_14" href="#div4_14"><sup>[14]</sup></a> -’tis expressed,<br> -May give a title to the lands possessed:<br> -But that the longest sword should be so civil<br> -To make a Frenchman English, that’s the devil.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">These are the heroes that despise the Dutch,<br> -And rail at new-come foreigners so much,<br> -Forgetting that themselves are all derived<br> -From the most scoundrel race that ever lived;<br> -A horrid crowd of rambling thieves and drones,<br> -Who ransacked kingdoms and dispeopled towns,<br> -The Pict and painted Briton, treacherous Scot,<br> -By hunger, /theft, and rapine hither brought;<br> -Norwegian pirates, buccaneering Danes,<br> -Whose red-haired offspring everywhere remains,<br> -Who, joined with Norman-French, compound the breed<br> -From whence your true-born Englishmen proceed.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">And lest by length of time it be pretended<br> -The climate may this modern breed ha’ mended,<br> -Wise Providence, to keep us where we are,<br> -Mixes us daily with exceeding care.<br> -We have been Europe’s sink, the jakes where she<br> -Voids all her offal outcast progeny.<br> -From the eighth Henry’s time, the strolling bands<br> -Of banished fugitives from neighbouring lands<br> -Have here a certain sanctuary found:<br> -The eternal refuge of the vagabond,<br> -Where, in but half a common age of time,<br> -Borrowing new blood and manners from the clime,<br> -Proudly they learn all mankind to contemn,<br> -And all their race are true-born Englishmen.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Dutch, Walloons, Flemings, Irishmen, and Scots,<br> -Vaudois and Valtelins, and Hugonots,<br> -In good Queen Bess’s charitable reign,<br> -Supplied us with three hundred thousand men.<br> -Religion—God, we thank Thee!—sent them hither<br> -Priests, Protestants, the Devil and all together:<br> -Of all professions and of every trade,<br> -All that were persecuted or afraid;<br> -Whether for debt or other crimes they fled,<br> -David at Hachilah was still their head.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">The offspring of this miscellaneous crowd<br> -Had not their new plantations long enjoyed,<br> -But they grew Englishmen, and raised their votes<br> -At foreign shoals for interloping Scots.<br> -The royal branch<a name="div4Ref_15" href="#div4_15"><sup>[15]</sup></a> from -Pictland did succeed,<br> -With troops of Scots and Scabs from North-by-Tweed.<br> -The seven first years of his pacific reign<br> -Made him and half his nation Englishmen.<br> -Scots from the northern frozen banks of Tay,<br> -With packs and plods came whigging all away:<br> -Thick as the locusts which in Egypt swarmed,<br> -With pride and hungry hopes completely armed;<br> -With native truth, diseases, and no money,<br> -Plundered our Canaan of the milk and honey.<br> -Here they grew quickly lords and gentlemen,<br> -And all their race are true-born Englishmen.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">The civil wars, the common purgative,<br> -Which always use to make the nation thrive,<br> -Made way for all that strolling congregation<br> -Which thronged in Pious Charles’s restoration.<a name="div4Ref_16" href="#div4_16"><sup>[16]</sup></a><br> -The royal refugee our breed restores,<br> -With foreign courtiers and with foreign whores,<br> -And carefully repeopled us again,<br> -Throughout his lazy, long, lascivious reign,<br> -With such a blest and true-born English fry,<br> -As much illustrates our nobility.<br> -A gratitude which will so black appear,<br> -As future ages must abhor to hear,<br> -When they look back on all that crimson flood,<br> -Which streamed in Lindsay’s and Carnarvon’s blood,<br> -Bold Strafford, Cambridge, Capel, Lucas, Lisle,<br> -Who crowned in death his father’s funeral pile.<br> -The loss of whom, in order to supply,<br> -With true-born English nationality,<br> -Six bastard Dukes survive his luscious reign,<br> -The labours of Italian Castlemaine,<a name="div4Ref_17" href="#div4_17"><sup>[17]</sup></a><br> -French Portsmouth,<a name="div4Ref_18" href="#div4_18"><sup>[18]</sup></a> Tabby -Scot, and Cambrian.<br> -Besides the numerous bright and virgin throng,<br> -Whose female glories shade them from my song.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">This offspring, if one age they multiply,<br> -May half the house with English peers supply;<br> -There with true English pride they may contemn<br> -Schomberg and Portland,<a name="div4Ref_19" href="#div4_19"><sup>[19]</sup></a> -new made noblemen.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">French cooks, Scotch pedlars, and Italian whores,<br> -Were all made lords or lords’ progenitors.<br> -Beggars and bastards by his new creation<br> -Much multiplied the peerage of the nation;<br> -Who will be all, ere one short age runs o’er.<br> -As true-born lords as those we had before.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Then to recruit the Commons he prepares<br> -And heal the latent breaches of the wars;<br> -The pious purpose better to advance,<br> -He invites the banished Protestants of France:<br> -Hither for God’s sake and their own they fled,<br> -Some for religion came, and some for bread;<br> -Two hundred thousand pairs of wooden shoes,<br> -Who, God be thanked, had nothing left to lose,<br> -To Heaven’s great praise did for religion fly,<br> -To make us starve our poor in charity.<br> -In every port they plant their fruitful train,<br> -To get a race of true-born Englishmen;<br> -Whose children will, when riper years they see,<br> -Be as ill-natured and as proud as we;<br> -Call themselves English, foreigners despise,<br> -Be surly like us all, and just as wise.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Thus from a mixture of all kinds began<br> -That heterogeneous thing an Englishman;<br> -In eager rapes and furious lust begot,<br> -Betwixt a painted Briton and a Scot;<br> -Whose gendering offspring quickly learned to bow,<br> -And yoke their heifers to the Roman plough;<br> -From whence a mongrel half-bred race there came,<br> -With neither name nor nation, speech nor fame;<br> -In whose hot veins new mixtures quickly ran,<br> -Infused betwixt a Saxon and a Dane;<br> -While their rank daughters, to their parents just,<br> -Received all nations with promiscuous lust.<br> -This nauseous brood directly did contain<br> -The well-extracted brood of Englishmen.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Which medley cantoned in a Heptarchy,<br> -A rhapsody of nations to supply,<br> -Among themselves maintained eternal wars,<br> -And still the ladies loved the conquerors.<br> -The Western Angles all the rest subdued,<br> -A bloody nation, barbarous and rude,<br> -Who by the tenure of the sword possessed<br> -One part of Britain, and subdued the rest.<br> -And as great things denominate the small,<br> -The conquering part gave title to the whole;<br> -The Scot, Pict, Briton, Roman, Dane, submit,<br> -And with the English-Saxon all unite;<br> -And these the mixtures have so close pursued,<br> -The very name and memory’s subdued.<br> -No Roman now, no Briton does remain;<br> -Wales strove to separate, but strove in vain;<br> -The silent nations undistinguished fall,<br> -And Englishman’s the common name of all.<br> -Fate jumbled them together, God knows how;<br> -What e’er they were, they’re true-born English now.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">The wonder which remains is at our pride,<br> -To value that which all men else deride.<br> -For Englishmen to boast of generation<br> -Cancels their knowledge and lampoons the nation.<br> -A true-born Englishman’s a contradiction,<br> -In speech an irony, in fact a fiction;<br> -A banter made to be a test to fools,<br> -Which those that use it justly ridicules;<br> -A metaphor invented to express<br> -A man akin to all the universe.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">For, as the Scots, as learned men have said,<br> -Throughout the world their wandering seed have spread;<br> -So open-handed England, ’tis believed,<br> -Has all the gleanings of the world received.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Some think of England, ’twas our Saviour meant,<br> -The Gospel should to all the world be sent,<br> -Since, when the blessed sound did hither reach,<br> -They to all nations might be said to preach.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">’Tis well that virtue gives nobility,<br> -How shall we else the want of birth and blood supply?<br> -Since scarce one family is left alive<br> -Which does not from some foreigner derive.<br> -Of sixty thousand English gentlemen,<br> -Whose name and arms in registers remain,<br> -We challenge all our heralds to declare<br> -Ten families which English-Saxons are.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">France justly owns the ancient noble line<br> -Of Bourbon, Montmorency, and Lorraine,<br> -The Germans too their House of Austria show<br> -And Holland their invincible Nassau,<br> -Lines which in heraldry were ancient grown<br> -Before the name of Englishman was known.<br> -Even Scotland, too, her elder glory shows,<br> -Her Gordons, Hamiltons, and her Monros,<br> -Douglas, Mackays, and Grahams, names well known<br> -Long before ancient England knew her own.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">But England, modern to the last degree<br> -Borrows or makes her own nobility,<br> -And yet she boldly boasts of pedigree;<br> -Repines that foreigners are put upon her,<br> -And talks of her antiquity and honour;<br> -Her Sackvilles, Saviles, Capels, De la Meres,<br> -Mohuns, and Montagues, Darcys, and Veres,<br> -Not one have English names, yet all are English peers.<br> -Your Hermans, Papillons, and Lavalliers<br> -Pass now for true-born English knights and squires,<br> -And make good senate members or Lord Mayors.<br> -Wealth, howsoever got, in England makes<br> -Lords of mechanics, gentlemen of rakes:<br> -Antiquity and birth are needless here;<br> -’Tis impudence and money makes a peer.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Innumerable City knights, we know,<br> -From Bluecoat Hospital and Bridewell flow;<br> -Draymen and porters fill the city Chair<br> -And footboys magisterial purple wear.<br> -Fate has but very small distinction set<br> -Betwixt the counter and the coronet.<br> -Tarpaulin lords, pages of high renown,<br> -Rise up by poor men’s valour, not their own.<br> -Great families of yesterday we show,<br> -And lords whose parents were the Lord knows who.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>PART II</h4> -<br> - - -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">The breed’s described: Now, Satire, if you can,<br> -Their temper show, for manners make the man.<br> -Fierce, as the Briton; as the Roman, brave;<br> -And less inclined to conquer than to save;<br> -Eager to fight, and lavish of their blood,<br> -And equally of fear and forecast void.<br> -The Pict has made ’em sour, the Dane morose;<br> -False from the Scot, and from the Norman worse.<br> -What honesty they have, the Saxons gave them,<br> -And that, now they grow old, begins to leave them.<br> -The climate makes them terrible and bold,<br> -And English beef their courage does uphold;<br> -No danger can their daring spirit pall,<br> -Always provided that their belly’s full.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">In close intrigues their faculty’s but weak,<br> -For generally what e’er they know they speak,<br> -And often their own counsels undermine<br> -By their infirmity, and not design;<br> -From whence the learned say it does proceed,<br> -That English treasons never can succeed;<br> -For they’re so open-hearted, you may know<br> -Their own most secret thoughts, and others too.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">The lab’ring poor, in spite of double pay,<br> -Are saucy, mutinous, and beggarly,<br> -So lavish of their money and their time,<br> -That want of forecast is the nation’s crime.<br> -Good drunken company is their delight,<br> -And what they get by day they spend by night.<br> -Dull thinking seldom does their heads engage,<br> -But drink their youth away, and hurry on old age.<br> -Empty of all good husbandry and sense,<br> -And void of manners most when void of pence,<br> -Their strong aversion to behaviour’s such,<br> -They always talk too little or too much;<br> -So dull, they never take the pains to think,<br> -And seldom are good-natured, but in drink.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">In English ale their dear enjoyment lies,<br> -For which they’ll starve themselves and families.<br> -An Englishman will fairly drink as much<br> -As will maintain two families of Dutch:<br> -Subjecting all their labour to their pots;<br> -The greatest artists are the greatest sots.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">The country poor do by example live;<br> -The gentry lead them, and the clergy drive:<br> -What may we not from such examples hope?<br> -The landlord is their god, the priest their pope.<br> -A drunken clergy and a swearing bench<br> -Has given the Reformation such a drench,<br> -As wise men think there is some cause to doubt<br> -Will purge good manners and religion out.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Nor do the poor alone their liquor prize;<br> -The sages join in this great sacrifice;<br> -The learned men who study Aristotle,<br> -Correct him with an explanation bottle;<br> -Praise Epicurus rather than Lysander,<br> -And Aristippus<a name="div4Ref_20" href="#div4_20"><sup>[20]</sup></a> more than -Alexander.<br> -The doctors, too, their Galen here resign,<br> -And generally prescribe specific wine;<br> -The graduate’s study’s grown an easier task,<br> -While for the urinal they toss the flask;<br> -The surgeon’s art grows plainer every hour,<br> -And wine’s the balm which into wounds they pour.<br> -Poets long since Parnassus have forsaken,<br> -And say the ancient bards were all mistaken.<br> -Apollo’s lately abdicate and fled,<br> -And good King Bacchus governs in his stead;<br> -He does the chaos of the head refine,<br> -And atom-thoughts jump into words by wine:<br> -The inspirations of a finer nature,<br> -As wine must needs excel Parnassus’ water.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Statesmen their weighty politics refine,<br> -And soldiers raise their courages by wine;<br> -Cecilia gives her choristers their choice,<br> -And lets them all drink wine to clear their voice.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Some think the clergy first found out the way,<br> -And wine’s the only spirit by which they pray;<br> -But others, less profane than so, agree<br> -It clears the lungs and helps the memory;<br> -And therefore all of them divinely think,<br> -Instead of study, ’tis as well to drink.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">And here I would be very glad to know<br> -Whether our Asgilites may drink or no;<br> -Th’ enlight’ning fumes of wine would certainly<br> -Assist them much when they begin to fly;<br> -Or if a fiery chariot should appear,<br> -Inflamed by wine, they’d have the less to fear.<br> -Even the gods themselves, as mortals say,<br> -Were they on earth, would be as drunk as they;<br> -Nectar would be no more celestial drink,<br> -They’d all take wine, to teach them how to think.<br> -But English drunkards gods and men outdo,<br> -Drink their estates away, and money too.<br> -Colon’s in debt, and if his friends should fail<br> -To help him out, must die at at last in gaol;<br> -His wealthy uncle sent a hundred nobles<br> -To pay his trifles off, and rid him of his troubles;<br> -But Colon, like a true-born Englishman,<br> -Drank all the money out in bright champagne,<br> -And Colon does in custody remain.<br> -Drunk’ness has been the darling of this realm<br> -E’er since a drunken pilot had the helm.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">In their religion they are so uneven,<br> -That each man goes his own by-way to Heaven,<br> -Tenacious of mistakes to that degree<br> -That ev’ry man pursues it separately,<br> -And fancies none can find the way but he:<br> -So shy of one another they are grown,<br> -As if they strove to get to Heaven alone.<br> -Rigid and zealous, positive and grave,<br> -And ev’ry grace but Charity they have.<br> -This makes them so ill-natured and uncivil,<br> -That all men think an Englishman the devil.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Surly to strangers, froward to their friend;<br> -Submit to love with a reluctant mind.<br> -Resolved to be ungrateful and unkind,<br> -If by necessity reduced to ask,<br> -The giver has the difficultest task;<br> -For what’s bestowed they awkwardly receive,<br> -And always take less freely than they give.<br> -The obligation is their highest grief,<br> -And never love where they accept relief.<br> -So sullen in their sorrow, that ’tis known<br> -They’ll rather die than their afflictions own;<br> -And if relieved, it is too often true<br> -That they’ll abuse their benefactors too;<br> -For in distress, their haughty stomach’s such,<br> -They hate to see themselves obliged too much.<br> -Seldom contented, often in the wrong,<br> -Hard to be pleased at all, and never long.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">If your mistakes their ill opinion gain,<br> -No merit can their favour reobtain;<br> -And if they’re not vindictive in their fury,<br> -’Tis their unconstant temper does secure ye.<br> -Their brain’s so cool, their passion seldom burns,<br> -For all’s condensed before the flame returns;<br> -The fermentation’s of so weak a matter,<br> -The humid damps the fume, and runs it all to water.<br> -So, though the inclination may be strong,<br> -They’re pleased by fits, and never angry long.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Then, if good-nature shows some slender proof,<br> -They never think they have reward enough,<br> -But, like our modern Quakers of the town,<br> -Expect your manners, and return you none.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Friendship, th’ abstracted union of the mind,<br> -Which all men seek, but very few can find:<br> -Of all the nations in the universe,<br> -None talk on’t more, or understand it less;<br> -For if it does their property annoy,<br> -Their property their friendship will destroy.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">As you discourse them, you shall hear them tell<br> -All things in which they think they do excel.<br> -No panegyric needs their praise record;<br> -An Englishman ne’er wants his own good word.<br> -His long discourses generally appear<br> -Prologued with his own wond’rous character.<br> -But first to illustrate his own good name,<br> -He never fails his neighbour to defame;<br> -And yet he really designs no wrong—<br> -His malice goes no further than his tongue.<br> -But pleased to tattle, he delights to rail,<br> -To satisfy the lech’ry of a tale.<br> -His own dear praises close the ample speech;<br> -Tells you how wise he is—that is, how rich:<br> -For wealth is wisdom; he that’s rich is wise;<br> -And all men learned poverty despise.<br> -His generosity comes next, and then<br> -Concludes that he’s a true-born Englishman;<br> -And they, ’tis known, are generous and free,<br> -Forgetting and forgiving injury:<br> -Which may be true, thus rightly understood,<br> -Forgiving ill turns, and forgetting good.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Cheerful in labour when they’ve undertook it,<br> -But out of humour when they’re out of pocket.<br> -But if their belly and their pocket’s full,<br> -They may be phlegmatic, but never dull:<br> -And if a bottle does their brains refine,<br> -It makes their wit as sparkling as their wine.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">As for the general vices which we find<br> -They’re guilty of, in common with mankind,<br> -Satire, forbear, and silently endure;<br> -We must conceal the crimes we cannot cure.<br> -Nor shall my verse the brighter sex defame,<br> -For English beauty will preserve her name,<br> -Beyond dispute, agreeable and fair,<br> -And modester than other nations are:<br> -For where the vice prevails, the great temptation<br> -Is want of money more than inclination.<br> -In general, this only is allowed,<br> -They’re something noisy, and a little proud.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">An Englishman is gentlest in command,<br> -Obedience is a stranger in the land:<br> -Hardly subjected to the magistrate,<br> -For Englishmen do all subjection hate;<br> -Humblest when rich, but peevish when they’re poor,<br> -And think, what e’er they have, they merit more.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">The meanest English ploughman studies law,<br> -And keeps thereby the magistrates in awe;<br> -Will boldly tell them what they have to do,<br> -And sometimes punish their omissions too.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Their liberty and property’s so dear,<br> -They scorn their laws or governors to fear:<br> -So bugbeared with the name of slavery,<br> -They can’t submit to their own liberty.<br> -Restraint from ill is freedom to the wise;<br> -But Englishmen do all restraint despise.<br> -Slaves to their liquor, drudges to the pots,<br> -The mob are statesmen and their statesmen sots.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Their governors they count such dangerous things,<br> -That ’tis their custom to affront their kings:<br> -So jealous of the power their kings possest,<br> -They suffer neither power nor king to rest.<br> -The bad with force they easily subdue:<br> -The good with constant clamours they pursue;<br> -And did King Jesus reign, they’d murmur too.<br> -A discontented nation, and by far<br> -Harder to rule in times of peace than war:<br> -Easily set together by the ears,<br> -And full of causeless jealousies and fears:<br> -Apt to revolt, and willing to rebel,<br> -And never are contented when they’re well.<br> -No Government could ever please them long,<br> -Could tie their hands, or rectify their tongue:<br> -In this to ancient Israel well compared,<br> -Eternal murmurs are among them heard.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">It was but lately that they were oppressed,<br> -Their rights invaded, and their laws suppressed:<br> -When nicely tender of their liberty,<br> -Lord! what a noise they made of slavery.<br> -In daily tumult showed their discontent,<br> -Lampooned the King, and mocked his Government.<br> -And if in arms they did not first appear,<br> -’Twas want of force, and not for want of fear.<br> -In humbler tone than English used to do,<br> -At foreign hands for foreign aid they sue.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">William, the great successor of Nassau,<br> -Their prayers heard and their oppressions saw:<br> -He saw and saved them; God and him they praised,<br> -To this their thanks, to that their trophies raised.<br> -But, glutted with their own felicities,<br> -They soon their new deliverer despise;<br> -Say all their prayers back, their joy disown,<br> -Unsing their thanks, and pull their trophies down;<br> -Their harps of praise are on the willows hung,<br> -For Englishmen are ne’er contented long.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">The reverend clergy, too! Who would have thought<br> -That they, who had such non-resistance taught,<br> -Should e’er to arms against their prince be brought,<br> -Who up to Heaven did regal power advance,<br> -Subjecting English laws to modes of France,<br> -Twisting religion so with loyalty,<br> -As one could never live and t’other die.<br> -And yet no sooner did their prince design<br> -Their glebes and perquisites to undermine,<br> -But, all their passive doctrines laid aside,<br> -The clergy their own principles denied;<br> -Unpreached their non-resisting cant, and prayed<br> -To Heaven for help and to the Dutch for aid.<br> -The Church chimed all her doctrines back again,<br> -And pulpit champions did the cause maintain;<br> -Flew in the face of all their former zeal,<br> -And non-resistance did at once repeal.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">The Rabbis say it would be too prolix<br> -To tie religion up to politics:<br> -The Church’s safety is <i>suprema lex</i>.<br> -And so, by a new figure of their own,<br> -Their former doctrines all at once disown;<br> -As laws <i>post facto</i> in the Parliament<br> -In urgent cases have obtained assent,<br> -But are as dangerous precedents laid by,<br> -Made lawful only by necessity.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">The reverend fathers then in arms appear,<br> -And men of God become the men of war.<br> -The nation, fired by them, to arms apply,<br> -Assault their Antichristian monarchy;<br> -To their due channel all our laws restore,<br> -And made things what they should have been before.<br> -But when they came to fill the vacant throne,<br> -And the pale priests looked back on what they’d done;<br> -How English liberty began to thrive,<br> -And Church of England loyalty outlive;<br> -How all their persecuting days were done,<br> -And their deliverer placed upon the throne:<br> -The priests, as priests are wont to do, turned tail;<br> -They’re Englishmen, and nature will prevail.<br> -Now they deplore the ruins they have made,<br> -And murmur for the master they betrayed,<br> -Excuse those crimes they could not make him mend,<br> -And suffer for the cause they can’t defend.<br> -Pretend they’d not have carried things so high,<br> -And proto-martyrs make for Popery.<br> -Had the prince done as they designed the thing,<br> -Have set the clergy up to rule the King,<br> -Taken a donative for coming hither,<br> -And so have left their King and them together,<br> -We had, say they, been now a happy nation.<br> -No doubt we had seen a blessed reformation:<br> -For wise men say ’tis as dangerous a thing,<br> -A ruling priesthood as a priest-rid king;<br> -And of all plagues with which mankind are curst,<br> -Ecclesiastic tyranny’s the worst.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">If all our former grievances were feigned,<br> -King James has been abused and we trepanned;<br> -Bugbeared with Popery and power despotic,<br> -Tyrannic government and leagues exotic:<br> -The Revolution’s a fanatic plot,<br> -William a tyrant, Sunderland a sot:<br> -A factious army and a poisoned nation<br> -Unjustly forced King James’s abdication.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">But if he did the subjects’ rights invade,<br> -Then he was punished only, not betrayed;<br> -And punishing of kings is no such crime,<br> -But Englishmen have done it many a time.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">When kings the sword of justice first lay down,<br> -They are no kings, though they possess the crown:<br> -Titles are shadows, crowns are empty things:<br> -The good of subjects is the end of kings;<br> -To guide in war and to protect in peace;<br> -Where tyrants once commence the kings do cease;<br> -For arbitrary power’s so strange a thing,<br> -It makes the tyrant and unmakes the king.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">If kings by foreign priests and armies reign,<br> -And lawless power against their oaths maintain,<br> -Then subjects must have reason to complain.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">If oaths must bind us when our kings do ill,<br> -To call in foreign aid is to rebel.<br> -By force to circumscribe our lawful prince<br> -Is wilful treason in the largest sense;<br> -And they who once rebel, most certainly<br> -Their God, and king, and former oaths defy.<br> -If we allow no maladministration<br> -Could cancel the allegiance of the nation,<br> -Let all our learned sons of Levi try<br> -This ecclesiastic riddle to untie:<br> -How they could make a step to call the prince,<br> -And yet pretend to oaths and innocence?</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">By the first address they made beyond the seas,<br> -They’re perjured in the most intense degrees;<br> -And without scruple for the time to come<br> -May swear to all the kings in Christendom.<br> -And truly did our kings consider all,<br> -They’d never let the clergy swear at all;<br> -Their politic allegiance they’d refuse,<br> -For whores and priests do never want excuse.<br> -But if the mutual contract were dissolved,<br> -The doubts explained, the difficulties solved,<br> -That kings, when they descend to tyranny,<br> -Dissolve the bond and leave the subject free,<br> -The government’s ungirt when justice dies,<br> -And constitutions are non-entities;<br> -The nation’s all a mob; there’s no such thing<br> -As Lords or Commons, Parliament or King.<br> -A great promiscuous crowd the hydra lies<br> -Till laws revive and mutual contract ties;<br> -A chaos free to choose for their own share<br> -What case of government they please to wear.<br> -If to a king they do the reins commit,<br> -All men are bound in conscience to submit;<br> -But then that king must by his oath assent<br> -To <i>postulatus</i> of the government,<br> -Which if he breaks, he cuts off the entail,<br> -And power retreats to its original.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">This doctrine has the sanction of assent<br> -From Nature’s universal Parliament.<br> -The voice of Nature and the course of things<br> -Allow that laws superior are to kings.<br> -None but delinquents would have justice cease;<br> -Knaves rail at laws as soldiers rail at peace;<br> -For justice is the end of government,<br> -As reason is the test of argument.<br> -No man was ever yet so void of sense<br> -As to debate the right of self-defence,<br> -A principle so grafted in the mind,<br> -With Nature born, and does like Nature bind;<br> -Twisted with reason and with Nature too,<br> -As neither one or other can undo.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Nor can this right be less when national;<br> -Reason, which governs one, should govern all.<br> -Whatever the dialects of courts may tell,<br> -He that his right demands can ne’er rebel,<br> -Which right, if ’tis by governors denied,<br> -May be procured by force or foreign aid;<br> -For tyranny’s a nation’s term of grief,<br> -As folks cry “Fire” to hasten in relief;<br> -And when the hated word is heard about,<br> -All men should come to help the people out.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Thus England groaned—Britannia’s voice was heard,<br> -And great Nassau to rescue her appeared,<br> -Called by the universal voice of Fate—<br> -God and the people’s legal magistrate.<br> -Ye Heavens regard! Almighty Jove look down,<br> -And view thy injured monarch on the throne.<br> -On their ungrateful heads due vengeance take,<br> -Who sought his aid and then his part forsake.<br> -Witness, ye Powers! It was our call alone,<br> -Which now our pride makes us ashamed to own.<br> -Britannia’s troubles fetched him from afar<br> -To court the dreadful casualties of war;<br> -But where requital never can be made,<br> -Acknowledgment’s a tribute seldom paid.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">He dwelt in bright Maria’s circling arms,<br> -Defended by the magic of her charms<br> -From foreign fears and from domestic harms.<br> -Ambition found no fuel to her fire;<br> -He had what God could give or man desire.<br> -Till pity roused him from his soft repose,<br> -His life to unseen hazards to expose;<br> -Till pity moved him in our cause t’appear;<br> -Pity! that word which now we hate to hear.<br> -But English gratitude is always such,<br> -To hate the hand which doth oblige too much.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Britannia’s cries gave birth to his intent,<br> -And hardly gained his unforeseen assent;<br> -His boding thoughts foretold him he should find<br> -The people fickle, selfish, and unkind.<br> -Which thought did to his royal heart appear<br> -More dreadful than the dangers of the war;<br> -For nothing grates a generous mind so soon<br> -As base returns for hearty service done.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Satire, be silent! awfully prepare<br> -Britannia’s song and William’s praise to hear.<br> -Stand by, and let her cheerfully rehearse<br> -Her grateful vows in her immortal verse.<br> -Loud Fame’s eternal trumpet let her sound;<br> -Listen, ye distant Poles and endless round.<br> -May the strong blast the welcome news convey<br> -As far as sound can reach or spirit can fly.<br> -To neighb’ring worlds, if such there be, relate<br> -Our hero’s fame, for theirs to imitate.<br> -To distant worlds of spirits let her rehearse:<br> -For spirits, without the help of voice, converse.<br> -May angels hear the gladsome news on high,<br> -Mixed with their everlasting symphony.<br> -And Hell itself stand in suspense to know<br> -Whether it be the fatal blast or no.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4>BRITANNIA</h4> -<br> - -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">The fame of virtue ’tis for which I sound,<br> -And heroes with immortal triumphs crowned.<br> -Fame, built on solid virtue, swifter flies<br> -Than morning light can spread my eastern skies.<br> -The gathering air returns the doubling sound,<br> -And loud repeating thunders force it round;<br> -Echoes return from caverns of the deep;<br> -Old Chaos dreamt on’t in eternal sleep;<br> -Time hands it forward to its latest urn,<br> -From whence it never, never shall return;<br> -Nothing is heard so far or lasts so long;<br> -’Tis heard by every ear and spoke by every tongue.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">My hero, with the sails of honour furled,<br> -Rises like the great genius of the world.<br> -By Fate and Fame wisely prepared to be<br> -The soul of war and life of victory;<br> -He spreads the wings of virtue on the throne,<br> -And every wind of glory fans them on.<br> -Immortal trophies dwell upon his brow,<br> -Fresh as the garlands he has won but now.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">By different steps the high ascent he gains,<br> -And differently that high ascent maintains.<br> -Princes for pride and lust of rule make war,<br> -And struggle for the name of conqueror.<br> -Some fight for fame, and some for victory;<br> -He fights to save, and conquers to set free.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Then seek no phrase his titles to conceal,<br> -And hide with words what actions must reveal,<br> -No parallel from Hebrew stories take<br> -Of god-like kings my similes to make;<br> -No borrowed names conceal my living theme,<br> -But names and things directly I proclaim.<br> -’Tis honest merit does his glory raise,<br> -Whom that exalts let no man fear to praise:<br> -Of such a subject no man need be shy,<br> -Virtue’s above the reach of flattery.<br> -He needs no character but his own fame,<br> -Nor any flattering titles but his name:<br> -William’s the name that’s spoke by every tongue,<br> -William’s the darling subject of my song.<br> -Listen, ye virgins to the charming sound,<br> -And in eternal dances hand it round:<br> -Your early offerings to this altar bring,<br> -Make him at once a lover and a king.<br> -May he submit to none but to your arms,<br> -Nor ever be subdued but by your charms.<br> -May your soft thoughts for him be all sublime,<br> -And every tender vow be made for him.<br> -May he be first in every morning thought,<br> -And Heaven ne’er hear a prayer when he’s left out.<br> -May every omen, every boding dream,<br> -Be fortunate by mentioning his name;<br> -May this one charm infernal power affright,<br> -And guard you from the terrors of the night;<br> -May every cheerful glass, as it goes down<br> -To William’s health, be cordials to your own.<br> -Let every song be chorused with his name,<br> -And music pay a tribute to his fame;<br> -Let every poet tune his artful verse,<br> -And in immortal strains his deeds rehearse.<br> -And may Apollo never more inspire<br> -The disobedient bard with his seraphic fire;<br> -May all my sons their graceful homage pay,<br> -His praises sing, and for his safety pray.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Satire, return to our unthankful isle,<br> -Secured by Heaven’s regard and William’s toil;<br> -To both ungrateful and to both untrue,<br> -Rebels to God, and to good-nature too.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">If e’er this nation be distressed again,<br> -To whomsoe’er they cry, they’ll cry in vain;<br> -To Heaven they cannot have the face to look,<br> -Or, if they should, it would but Heaven provoke.<br> -To hope for help from man would be too much,<br> -Mankind would always tell them of the Dutch;<br> -How they came here our freedoms to obtain,<br> -Were paid and cursed, and hurried home again;<br> -How by their aid we first dissolved our fears,<br> -And then our helpers damned for foreigners.<br> -’Tis not our English temper to do better,<br> -For Englishmen think every man their debtor.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">’Tis worth observing that we ne’er complained<br> -Of foreigners, nor of the wealth they gained,<br> -Till all their services were at an end.<br> -Wise men affirm it is the English way<br> -Never to grumble till they come to pay,<br> -And then they always think, their temper’s such,<br> -The work too little and the pay too much.<br> -As frightened patients, when they want a cure,<br> -Bid any price, and any pain endure;<br> -But when the doctor’s remedies appear,<br> -The cure’s too easy and the price too dear.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Great Portland ne’er was bantered when he strove<br> -For us his master’s kindest thoughts to move;<br> -We ne’er lampooned his conduct when employed<br> -King James’s secret counsels to divide:<br> -Then we caressed him as the only man<br> -Which could the doubtful oracle explain;<br> -The only Hushai able to repel<br> -The dark designs of our Achitopel;<br> -Compared his master’s courage to his sense,<br> -The ablest statesman and the bravest prince.<br> -On his wise conduct we depended much,<br> -And liked him ne’er the worse for being Dutch.<br> -Nor was he valued more than he deserved,<br> -Freely he ventured, faithfully he served.<br> -In all King William’s dangers he has shared;<br> -In England’s quarrels always he appeared:<br> -The Revolution first, and then the Boyne,<br> -In both his counsels and his conduct shine;<br> -His martial valour Flanders will confess,<br> -And France regrets his managing the peace.<br> -Faithful to England’s interest and her king;<br> -The greatest reason of our murmuring.<br> -Ten years in English service he appeared,<br> -And gained his master’s and the world’s regard:<br> -But ’tis not England’s custom to reward.<br> -The wars are over, England needs him not;<br> -Now he’s a Dutchman, and the Lord knows what.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Schomberg, the ablest soldier of his age,<br> -With great Nassau did in our cause engage:<br> -Both joined for England’s rescue and defence,<br> -The greatest captain and the greatest prince.<br> -With what applause, his stories did we tell!<br> -Stories which Europe’s volumes largely swell.<br> -We counted him an army in our aid:<br> -Where he commanded, no man was afraid.<br> -His actions with a constant conquest shine,<br> -From Villa-Viciosa to the Rhine.<br> -France, Flanders, Germany, his fame confess,<br> -And all the world was fond of him, but us.<br> -Our turn first served, we grudged him the command:<br> -Witness the grateful temper of the land.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">We blame the King that he relies too much<br> -On strangers, Germans, Hugonots, and Dutch,<br> -And seldom does his great affairs of state<br> -To English counsellors communicate.<br> -The fact might very well be answered thus:<br> -He has so often been betrayed by us,<br> -He must have been a madman to rely<br> -On English Godolphin’s fidelity.<br> -For, laying other arguments aside,<br> -This thought might mortify our English pride,<br> -That foreigners have faithfully obeyed him,<br> -And none but Englishmen have e’er betrayed him.<br> -They have our ships and merchants bought and sold,<br> -And bartered English blood for foreign gold.<br> -First to the French they sold our Turkey fleet,<br> -And injured Talmarsh next at Camaret.<br> -The King himself is sheltered from their snares,<br> -Not by his merit, but the crown he wears.<br> -Experience tells us ’tis the English way<br> -Their benefactors always to betray.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">And lest examples should be too remote,<br> -A modern magistrate of famous note<br> -Shall give you his own character by rote.<br> -I’ll make it out, deny it he that can,<br> -His worship is a true-born Englishman,<br> -In all the latitude of that empty word,<br> -By modern acceptations understood.<br> -The parish books his great descent record;<br> -And now he hopes ere long to be a lord.<br> -And truly, as things go, it would be pity<br> -But such as he should represent the City:<br> -While robbery for burnt-offering he brings,<br> -And gives to God what he has stole from kings:<br> -Great monuments of charity he raises,<br> -And good St. Magnus whistles out his praises.<br> -To City gaols he grants a jubilee,<br> -And hires huzzas from his own Mobilee.<a name="div4Ref_21" href="#div4_21"><sup>[21]</sup></a></p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Lately he wore the golden chain and gown,<br> -With which equipped, he thus harangued the town.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><span class="sc">His Fine Speech, Etc.</span></h4> -<br> - -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">With clouted iron shoes and sheep-skin breeches,<br> -More rags than manners, and more dirt than riches;<br> -From driving cows and calves to Leyton Market,<br> -While of my greatness there appeared no spark yet,<br> -Behold I come, to let you see the pride<br> -With which exalted beggars always ride.<br> -Born to the needful labours of the plough,<br> -The cart-whip graced me, as the chain does now.<br> -Nature and Fate, in doubt what course to take,<br> -Whether I should a lord or plough-boy make,<br> -Kindly at last resolved they would promote me,<br> -And first a knave, and then a knight, they vote me.<br> -What Fate appointed, Nature did prepare,<br> -And furnished me with an exceeding care,<br> -To fit me for what they designed to have me;<br> -And every gift, but honesty, they gave me.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">And thus equipped, to this proud town I came,<br> -In quest of bread, and not in quest of fame.<br> -Blind to my future fate, a humble boy,<br> -Free from the guilt and glory I enjoy,<br> -The hopes which my ambition entertained<br> -Were in the name of foot-boy all contained.<br> -The greatest heights from small beginnings rise;<br> -The gods were great on earth before they reached the skies.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">B—— well, the generous temper of whose mind<br> -Was ever to be bountiful inclined,<br> -Whether by his ill-fate or fancy led,<br> -First took me up, and furnished me with bread.<br> -The little services he put me to<br> -Seemed labours, rather than were truly so.<br> -But always my advancement he designed,<br> -For ’twas his very nature to be kind.<br> -Large was his soul, his temper ever free;<br> -The best of masters and of men to me.<br> -And I, who was before decreed by Fate<br> -To be made infamous as well as great,<br> -With an obsequious diligence obeyed him,<br> -Till trusted with his all, and then betrayed him.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">All his past kindnesses I trampled on,<br> -Ruined his fortunes to erect my own.<br> -So vipers in the bosom bred, begin<br> -To hiss at that hand first which took them in.<br> -With eager treachery I his fall pursued,<br> -And my first trophies were Ingratitude.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Ingratitude, the worst of human wit,<br> -The basest action mankind can commit;<br> -Which, like the sin against the Holy Ghost,<br> -Has least of honour, and of guilt the most;<br> -Distinguished from all other crimes by this,<br> -That ’tis a crime which no man will confess.<br> -That sin alone, which should not be forgiven<br> -On earth, although perhaps it may in Heaven.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Thus my first benefactor I o’erthrew;<br> -And how should I be to a second true?<br> -The public trusts came next into my care,<br> -And I to use them scurvily prepare.<br> -My needy sovereign lord I played upon,<br> -And lent him many a thousand of his own;<br> -For which great interests I took care to charge,<br> -And so my ill-got wealth became so large.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">My predecessor, Judas, was a fool,<br> -Fitter to have been whipped and sent to school<br> -Than sell a Saviour. Had I been at hand,<br> -His Master had not been so cheap trepanned;<br> -I would have made the eager Jews have found,<br> -For forty pieces, thirty thousand pound.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">My cousin, Ziba, of immortal fame<br> -(Ziba and I shall never want a name),<br> -First-born of treason, nobly did advance<br> -His master’s fall for his inheritance,<br> -By whose keen arts old David first began<br> -To break his sacred oath with Jonathan:<br> -The good old king, ’tis thought, was very loth<br> -To break his word, and therefore broke his oath.<br> -Ziba’s a traitor of some quality,<br> -Yet Ziba might have been informed by me:<br> -Had I been there, he ne’er had been content<br> -With half the estate, nor have the government.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">In our late revolution ’twas thought strange<br> -That I, of all mankind, should like the change;<br> -But they who wondered at it never knew<br> -That in it I did my old game pursue;<br> -Nor had they heard of twenty thousand pound,<br> -Which never yet was lost, nor ne’er was found.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Thus all things in their turn to sale I bring,<br> -God and my master first, and then the King;<br> -Till, by successful villanies made bold,<br> -I thought to turn the nation into gold;<br> -And so to forgery my hand I bent,<br> -Not doubting I could gull the Government;<br> -But there was ruffled by the Parliament.<br> -And if I ’scaped the unhappy tree to climb,<br> -’Twas want of law, and not for want of crime.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">But my old friend,<a name="div4Ref_22" href="#div4_22"><sup>[22]</sup></a> -who printed in my face<br> -A needful competence of English brass,<br> -Having more business yet for me to do,<br> -And loth to lose his trusty servant so,<br> -Managed the matter with such art and skill<br> -As saved his hero and threw down the bill.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">And now I’m graced with unexpected honours,<br> -For which I’ll certainly abuse the donors.<br> -Knighted, and made a tribune of the people,<br> -Whose laws and properties I’m like to keep well;<br> -The <i>custos rotulorum</i> of the City,<br> -And captain of the guards of their banditti.<br> -Surrounded by my catchpoles, I declare<br> -Against the needy debtor open war;<br> -I hang poor thieves for stealing of your pelf,<br> -And suffer none to rob you but myself.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">The King commanded me to help reform ye,<br> -And how I’ll do it, Miss shall inform ye.<br> -I keep the best seraglio in the nation,<br> -And hope in time to bring it into fashion.<br> -For this my praise is sung by every bard,<br> -For which Bridewell would be a just reward.<br> -In print my panegyrics fill the streets,<br> -And hired gaol-birds their huzzas repeat.<br> -Some charities contrived to make a show,<br> -Have taught the needy rabble to do so,<br> -Whose empty noise is a mechanic fame,<br> -Since for Sir Belzebub they’d do the same.</p> -<br> -<br> -<br> -<h4><span class="sc">The Conclusion</span></h4> -<br> - -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Then let us boast of ancestors no more,<br> -Or deeds of heroes done in days of yore,<br> -In latent records of the ages past,<br> -Behind the rear of time, in long oblivion placed.<br> -For if our virtues must in lines descend,<br> -The merit with the families would end,<br> -And intermixtures would most fatal grow;<br> -For vice would be hereditary too;<br> -The tainted blood would of necessity<br> -Involuntary wickedness convey.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Vice, like ill-nature, for an age or two<br> -May seem a generation to pursue;<br> -But virtue seldom does regard the breed;<br> -Fools do the wise, and wise men fools succeed.<br> -What is’t to us what ancestors we had?<br> -If good, what better? or what worse, if bad?<br> -Examples are for imitation set,<br> -Yet all men follow virtue with regret.</p> -<p style="text-indent:1em; margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px">Could but our ancestors retrieve the fate,<br> -And see their offspring thus degenerate;<br> -How we contend for birth and names unknown,<br> -And build on their past actions, not our own;<br> -They’d cancel records, and their tombs deface,<br> -And openly disown the vile degenerate race:<br> -For fame of families is all a cheat,<br> -’Tis personal virtue only makes us great.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h3><small>THE SHORTEST WAY WITH</small><br> -<a name="div2_Dissenters" href="#div2Ref_Dissenters">THE DISSENTERS;</a><br> -<small>OR,</small><br> -PROPOSALS FOR THE ESTABLISHMENT<br> -<small>OF</small><br> -THE CHURCH</h3> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h3>THE SHORTEST WAY WITH<br> -THE DISSENTERS</h3> - -<p>Sir Roger L’Estrange tells us a story in his collection of -fables, of -the cock and the horses. The cock was gotten to roost in the stable -among the horses, and there being no racks or other conveniences for -him, it seems he was forced to roost upon the ground. The horses -jostling about for room, and putting the cock in danger of his life, -he gives them this grave advice, “Pray, gentlefolks, let us stand -still, for fear we should tread upon one another.”</p> - -<p>There are some people in the world, who now they are unperched, and -reduced to an equality with other people, and under strong and very -just apprehensions of being further treated as they deserve, begin, -with Æsop’s cock, to preach up peace and union, and the Christian -duties of moderation, for getting that, when they had the power in -their hands, these graces were strangers in their gates.</p> - -<p>It is now near fourteen years<a name="div4Ref_23" href="#div4_23"><sup>[23]</sup></a> -that the glory and peace of the -purest and most flourishing Church in the world has been eclipsed, -buffeted, and disturbed by a sort of men whom God in His providence -has suffered to insult over her and bring her down. These have been -the days of her humiliation and tribulation. She has borne with -invincible patience the reproach of the wicked, and God has at last -heard her prayers, and delivered her from the oppression of the -stranger.</p> - -<p>And now they find their day is over, their power gone, and the throne -of this nation possessed by a royal, English, true, and ever-constant -member of, and friend to, the Church of England. Now they find that -they are in danger of the Church of England’s just resentments; now -they cry out peace, union, forbearance, and charity, as if the Church -had not too long harboured her enemies under her wing, and nourished -the viperous brood till they hiss and fly in the face of the mother -that cherished them.</p> - -<p>No, gentlemen, the time of mercy is past, your day of grace is over; -you should have practised peace, and moderation, and charity, if you -expected any yourselves.</p> - -<p>We have heard none of this lesson for fourteen years past. We have -been huffed and bullied with your Act of Toleration; you have told us -that you are the Church established by law, as well as others; have -set up your canting synagogues at our church doors, and the Church and -members have been loaded with reproaches, with oaths, associations, -abjurations, and what not. Where has been the mercy, the forbearance, -the charity, you have shown to tender consciences of the Church of -England, that could not take oaths as fast as you made them; that -having sworn allegiance to their lawful and rightful King, could not -dispense with that oath, their King being still alive, and swear to -your new hodge-podge of a Dutch Government? These have been turned out -of their livings, and they and their families left to starve; their -estates double taxed to carry on a war they had no hand in, and you -got nothing by. What account can you give of the multitudes you have -forced to comply, against their consciences, with your new sophistical -politics, who, like new converts in France, sin because they cannot -starve? And now the tables are turned upon you; you must not be -persecuted; it is not a Christian spirit.</p> - -<p>You have butchered one king, deposed another king, and made a mock -king of a third,<a name="div4Ref_24" href="#div4_24"><sup>[24]</sup></a> and yet -you could have the face to expect to be -employed and trusted by the fourth. Anybody that did not know the -temper of your party would stand amazed at the impudence, as well as -folly, to think of it.</p> - -<p>Your management of your Dutch monarch, whom you reduced to a mere King -of Clouts, is enough to give any future princes such an idea of your -principles as to warn them sufficiently from coming into your -clutches; and God be thanked the Queen is out of your hands, knows -you, and will have a care of you.</p> - -<p>There is no doubt but the supreme authority of a nation has in itself -a power, and a right to that power, to execute the laws upon any part -of that nation it governs. The execution of the known laws of the -land, and that with a weak and gentle hand neither, was all this -fanatical party of this land have ever called persecution; this they -have magnified to a height, that the sufferings of the Huguenots in -France were not to be compared with. Now, to execute the known laws of -a nation upon those who transgress them, after voluntarily consenting -to the making those laws, can never be called persecution, but -justice. But justice is always violence to the party offending, for -every man is innocent in his own eyes. The first execution of the laws -against Dissenters in England was in the days of King James the -First;<a name="div4Ref_25" href="#div4_25"><sup>[25]</sup></a> and what did it -amount to truly? The worst they suffered -was at their own request: to let them go to New England and erect a -new colony, and give them great privileges, grants, and suitable -powers, keep them under protection, and defend them against all -invaders, and receive no taxes or revenue from them. This was the -cruelty of the Church of England. Fatal leniency! It was the ruin of -that excellent prince, King Charles the First. Had King James sent all -the Puritans in England away to the West Indies, we had been a -national, unmixed Church; the Church of England had been kept -undivided and entire.</p> - -<p>To requite the lenity of the father they take up arms against the son; -conquer, pursue, take, imprison, and at last put to death the anointed -of God, and destroy the very being and nature of government, setting -up a sordid impostor, who had neither title to govern nor -understanding to manage, but supplied that want with power, bloody and -desperate counsels, and craft without conscience.</p> - -<p>Had not King James the First withheld the full execution of the laws, -had he given them strict justice, he had cleared the nation of them, -and the consequences had been plain: his son had never been murdered -by them nor the monarchy overwhelmed. It was too much mercy shown -them, was the ruin of his posterity and the ruin of the nation’s -peace. One would think the Dissenters should not have the face to -believe that we are to be wheedled and canted into peace and -toleration when they know that they have once requited us with a civil -war, and once with an intolerable and unrighteous persecution for our -former civility.</p> - -<p>Nay, to encourage us to be easy with them, it is apparent that they -never had the upper hand of the Church, but they treated her with all -the severity, with all the reproach and contempt that was possible. -What peace and what mercy did they show the loyal gentry of the Church -of England in the time of their triumphant Commonwealth? How did they -put all the gentry of England to ransom, whether they were actually in -arms for the King or not, making people compound for their estates and -starve their families? How did they treat the clergy of the Church of -England, sequestered the ministers, devoured the patrimony of the -Church, and divided the spoil by sharing the Church lands among their -soldiers, and turning her clergy out to starve? Just such measure as -they have meted should be measured them again.</p> - -<p>Charity and love is the known doctrine of the Church of England, and -it is plain she has put it in practice towards the Dissenters, even -beyond what they ought, till she has been wanting to herself, and in -effect unkind to her sons, particularly in the too much lenity of King -James the First, mentioned before. Had he so rooted the Puritans from -the face of the land, which he had an opportunity early to have done, -they had not had the power to vex the Church as since they have done.</p> - -<p>In the days of King Charles the Second, how did the Church reward -their bloody doings with lenity and mercy, except the barbarous -regicides of the pretended court of justice? Not a soul suffered for -all the blood in an unnatural war. King Charles came in all mercy and -love, cherished them, preferred them, employed them, withheld the -rigour of the law, and oftentimes, even against the advice of his -Parliament, gave them liberty of conscience;<a name="div4Ref_26" href="#div4_26"><sup>[26]</sup></a> -and how did they -requite him with the villainous contrivance to depose and murder him -and his successor at the Rye Plot?<a name="div4Ref_27" href="#div4_27"><sup>[27]</sup></a></p> - -<p>King James, as if mercy was the inherent quality of the family, began -his reign with unusual favour to them. Nor could their joining with -the Duke of Monmouth against him move him to do himself justice upon -them; but that mistaken prince thought to win them by gentleness and -love, proclaimed an universal liberty to them, and rather -discountenanced the Church of England than them.<a name="div4Ref_28" href="#div4_28"><sup>[28]</sup></a> -How they requited -him all the world knows.</p> - -<p>The late reign is too fresh in the memory of all the world to need a -comment; how, under pretence of joining with the Church in redressing -some grievances, they pushed things to that extremity, in conjunction -with some mistaken gentlemen, as to depose the late King, as if the -grievance of the nation could not have been redressed but by the -absolute ruin of the prince. Here is an instance of their temper, -their peace, and charity. To what height they carried themselves -during the reign of a king of their own; how they crept into all -places of trust and profit; how they insinuated into the favour of the -King, and were at first preferred to the highest places in the nation; -how they engrossed the ministry, and above all, how pitifully they -managed, is too plain to need any remarks.</p> - -<p>But particularly their mercy and charity, the spirit of union, they -tell us so much of, has been remarkable in Scotland. If any man would -see the spirit of a Dissenter, let him look into Scotland. There they -made entire conquest of the Church, trampled down the sacred orders, -and suppressed the Episcopal government with an absolute, and, as they -suppose, irretrievable victory, though it is possible they may find -themselves mistaken. Now it would be a very proper question to ask -their impudent advocate, the Observator, pray how much mercy and -favour did the members of the Episcopal Church find in Scotland from -the Scotch Presbyterian Government? and I shall undertake for the -Church of England that the Dissenters shall still receive as much -here, though they deserve but little.</p> - -<p>In a small treatise of the sufferings of the Episcopal clergy in -Scotland, it will appear what usage they met with; how they not only -lost their livings, but in several places were plundered and abused in -their persons; the ministers that could not conform turned out with -numerous families and no maintenance, and hardly charity enough left -to relieve them with a bit of bread. And the cruelties of the parties -are innumerable, and not to be attempted in this short piece.</p> - -<p>And now to prevent the distant cloud which they perceived to hang over -their heads from England. With a true Presbyterian policy, they put in -for a union of nations, that England might unite their Church with the -Kirk of Scotland, and their Presbyterian members sit in our House of -Commons, and their Assembly of Scotch canting long-cloaks in our -Convocation. What might have been if our fanatic Whiggish statesmen -continued, God only knows; but we hope we are out of fear of that now.</p> - -<p>It is alleged by some of the faction—and they began to bully us with -it—that if we won’t unite with them, they will not settle the crown -with us again, but when Her Majesty dies, will choose a king for -themselves.</p> - -<p>If they won’t, we must make them, and it is not the first time we have -let them know that we are able. The crowns of these kingdoms have not -so far disowned the right of succession, but they may retrieve it -again; and if Scotland thinks to come off from a successive to an -elective state of government, England has not promised not to assist -the right heir and put them into possession without any regard to -their ridiculous settlements.<a name="div4Ref_29" href="#div4_29"><sup>[29]</sup></a></p> - -<p>These are the gentlemen, these their ways of treating the Church, both -at home and abroad. Now let us examine the reasons they pretend to -give why we should be favourable to them, why we should continue and -tolerate them among us.</p> - -<p>First, they are very numerous, they say; they are a great part of the -nation, and we cannot suppress them.</p> - -<p>To this may be answered:— -1. They are not so numerous as the Protestants in France, and yet the -French King effectually cleared the nation of them at once, and we -don’t find he misses them at home.<a name="div4Ref_30" href="#div4_30"><sup>[30]</sup></a> -But I am not of the opinion -they are so numerous as is pretended; their party is more numerous -than their persons, and those mistaken people of the Church who are -misled and deluded by their wheedling artifices to join with them, -make their party the greater; but these will open their eyes when the -Government shall set heartily about the work, and come off from them, -as some animals which they say always desert a house when it is likely -to fall.</p> - -<p>2. The more numerous the more dangerous, and therefore the more need -to suppress them; and God has suffered us to bear them as goads in our -sides for not utterly extinguishing them long ago.</p> - -<p>3. If we are to allow them only because we cannot suppress them, then -it ought to be tried whether we can or not; and I am of opinion it is -easy to be done, and could prescribe ways and means, if it were -proper; but I doubt not the Government will find effectual methods for -the rooting the contagion from the face of this land.</p> - -<p>Another argument they use, which is this, that it is a time of war, -and we have need to unite against the common enemy.</p> - -<p>We answer, this common enemy had been no enemy if they had not made -him so. He was quiet in peace, and no way disturbed or encroached upon -us, and we know no reason we had to quarrel with him.</p> - -<p>But further, we make no question but we are able to deal with this -common enemy without their help; but why must we unite with them -because of the enemy? Will they go over to the enemy if we do not -prevent it by a union with them? We are very well contented they -should, and make no question we shall be ready to deal with them and -the common enemy too, and better without them than with them.</p> - -<p>Besides, if we have a common enemy, there is the more need to be -secure against our private enemies. If there is one common enemy, we -have the less need to have an enemy in our bowels.</p> - -<p>It was a great argument some people used against suppressing the old -money, that it was a time of war, and it was too great a risk for the -nation to run; if we should not master it, we should be undone. And -yet the sequel proved the hazard was not so great but it might be -mastered, and the success was answerable. The suppressing the -Dissenters is not a harder work nor a work of less necessity to the -public. We can never enjoy a settled, uninterrupted union and -tranquillity in this nation till the spirit of Whiggism, faction, and -schism is melted down like the old money.</p> - -<p>To talk of the difficulty is to frighten ourselves with chimeras and -notions of a powerful party, which are indeed a party without power. -Difficulties often appear greater at a distance than when they are -searched into with judgment and distinguished from the vapours and -shadows that attend them.</p> - -<p>We are not to be frightened with it; this age is wiser than that by -all our own experience and theirs too. King Charles the First had -early suppressed this party if he had taken more deliberate measures. -In short, it is not worth arguing to talk of their arms. Their -Monmouths, and Shaftesburys, and Argyles are gone; their Dutch -sanctuary is at an end; Heaven has made way for their destruction, and -if we do not close with the Divine occasion, we are to blame -ourselves, and may remember that we had once an opportunity to serve -the Church of England by extirpating her implacable enemies, and -having let slip the minute that Heaven presented, may experimentally -complain, <i>Post est occasio calva</i>.</p> - -<p>Here are some popular objections in the way:—</p> - -<p>As first, the Queen has promised them to continue them in their -tolerated liberty, and has told us she will be a religious observer of -her word.</p> - -<p>What Her Majesty will do we cannot help; but what, as head of the -Church, she ought to do, is another case. Her Majesty has promised to -protect and defend the Church of England, and if she cannot -effectually do that without the destruction of the Dissenters, she -must of course dispense with one promise to comply with another. But -to answer this cavil more effectually: Her Majesty did never promise -to maintain the toleration to the destruction of the Church; but it is -upon supposition that it may be compatible with the well-being and -safety of the Church, which she had declared she would take especial -care of. Now if these two interests clash, it is plain Her Majesty’s -intentions are to uphold, protect, defend, and establish the Church, -and this we conceive is impossible.</p> - -<p>Perhaps it may be said that the Church is in no immediate danger from -the Dissenters, and therefore it is time enough. But this is a weak -answer.</p> - -<p>For first, if a danger be real, the distance of it is no argument -against, but rather a spur to quicken us to prevention, lest it be too -late hereafter.</p> - -<p>And secondly, here is the opportunity, and the only one perhaps that -ever the Church had, to secure herself and destroy her enemies.</p> - -<p>The representatives of the nation have now an opportunity; the time is -come which all good men have wished for, that the gentlemen of England -may serve the Church of England. Now they are protected and encouraged -by a Church of England Queen.</p> - -<p>What will you do for your sister in the day that she shall be spoken -for?</p> - -<p>If ever you will establish the best Christian Church in the world; if -ever you will suppress the spirit of enthusiasm; if ever you will free -the nation from the viperous brood that have so long sucked the blood -of their mother; if ever you will leave your posterity free from -faction and rebellion, this is the time. This is the time to pull up -this heretical weed of sedition that has so long disturbed the peace -of our Church and poisoned the good corn.</p> - -<p>But, says another hot and cold objector, this is renewing fire and -faggot, reviving the act <i>De Heretico Comburendo</i>; this will be -cruelty in its nature, and barbarous to all the world.</p> - -<p>I answer, it is cruelty to kill a snake or a toad in cold blood, but -the poison of their nature makes it a charity to our neighbours to -destroy those creatures, not for any personal injury received, but for -prevention; not for the evil they have done, but the evil they may do.</p> - -<p>Serpents, toads, vipers, &c., are noxious to the body, and poison the -sensitive life; these poison the soul, corrupt our posterity, ensnare -our children, destroy the vitals of our happiness, our future -felicity, and contaminate the whole mass.</p> - -<p>Shall any law be given to such wild creatures? Some beasts are for -sport, and the huntsmen give them advantages of ground; but some are -knocked on the head by all possible ways of violence and surprise.</p> - -<p>I do not prescribe fire and faggot, but, as Scipio said of Carthage, -<i>Delenda est Carthago</i>. They are to be rooted out of this nation, if -ever we will live in peace, serve God, or enjoy our own. As for the -manner, I leave it to those hands who have a right to execute God’s -justice on the nation’s and the Church’s enemies.</p> - -<p>But if we must be frighted from this justice under the specious -pretences and odious sense of cruelty, nothing will be effected: it -will be more barbarous to our own children and dear posterity when -they shall reproach their fathers, as we do ours, and tell us, “You -had an opportunity to root out this cursed race from the world under -the favour and protection of a true English queen; and out of your -foolish pity you spared them, because, forsooth, you would not be -cruel; and now our Church is suppressed and persecuted, our religion -trampled under foot, our estates plundered, our persons imprisoned and -dragged to jails, gibbets, and scaffolds: your sparing this Amalekite -race is our destruction, your mercy to them proves cruelty to your -poor posterity.”</p> - -<p>How just will such reflections be when our posterity shall fall under -the merciless clutches of this uncharitable generation, when our -Church shall be swallowed up in schism, faction, enthusiasm, and -confusion; when our Government shall be devolved upon foreigners, and -our monarchy dwindled into a republic.</p> - -<p>It would be more rational for us, if we must spare this generation, to -summon our own to a general massacre, and as we have brought them into -the world free, send them out so, and not betray them to destruction -by our supine negligence, and then cry, “It is mercy.”</p> - -<p>Moses was a merciful, meek man, and yet with what fury did he run -through the camp, and cut the throats of three-and-thirty thousand of -his dear Israelites that were fallen into idolatry. What was the -reason? It was mercy to the rest to make these examples, to prevent -the destruction of the whole army.</p> - -<p>How many millions of future souls we save from infection and delusion -if the present race of poisoned spirits were purged from the face of -the land!</p> - -<p>It is vain to trifle in this matter, the light, foolish handling of -them by mulcts, fines, &c.,—it is their glory and their advantage. If -the gallows instead of the Counter, and the galleys instead of the -fines, were the reward of going to a conventicle, to preach or hear, -there would not be so many sufferers. The spirit of martyrdom is over; -they that will go to church to be chosen sheriffs and mayors would go -to forty churches rather than be hanged.</p> - -<p>If one severe law were made and punctually executed, that whoever was -found at a conventicle should be banished the nation and the preacher -be hanged, we should soon see an end of the tale. They would all come -to church, and one age would make us all one again.</p> - -<p>To talk of five shillings a month for not coming to the sacrament, and -one shilling per week for not coming to church, this is such a way of -converting people as never was known; this is selling them a liberty -to transgress for so much money. If it be not a crime, why don’t we -give them full license? And if it be, no price ought to compound for -the committing it, for that is selling a liberty to people to sin -against God and the Government.</p> - -<p>If it be a crime of the highest consequence both against the peace and -welfare of the nation, the glory of God, the good of the Church, and -the happiness of the soul, let us rank it among capital offences, and -let it receive a punishment in proportion to it.</p> - -<p>We hang men for trifles, and banish them for things not worth naming; -but an offence against God and the Church, against the welfare of the -world and the dignity of religion, shall be bought off for five -shillings! This is such a shame to a Christian Government that it is -with regret I transmit it to posterity.</p> - -<p>If men sin against God, affront His ordinances, rebel against His -Church, and disobey the precepts of their superiors, let them suffer -as such capital crimes deserve. So will religion flourish, and this -divided nation be once again united.</p> - -<p>And yet the title of barbarous and cruel will soon be taken off from -this law too. I am not supposing that all the Dissenters in England -should be hanged or banished, but, as in cases of rebellions and -insurrections, if a few of the ringleaders suffer, the multitude are -dismissed; so, a few obstinate people being made examples, there is no -doubt but the severity of the law would find a stop in the compliance -of the multitude.</p> - -<p>To make the reasonableness of this matter out of question, and more -unanswerably plain, let us examine for what it is that this nation is -divided into parties and factions, and let us see how they can justify -a separation, or we of the Church of England can justify our bearing -the insults and inconveniences of the party.</p> - -<p>One of their leading pastors,<a name="div4Ref_31" href="#div4_31"><sup>[31]</sup></a> -and a man of as much learning as -most among them, in his answer to a pamphlet, entitled “An Inquiry -into the Occasional Conformity,” has these words, p. 27, “Do the -religion of the Church and the meeting-houses make two religions? -Wherein do they differ? The substance of the same religion is common -to them both; and the modes and accidents are the things in which only -they differ.” P. 28: “Thirty-nine articles are given us for the -summary of our religion; thirty-six contain the substance of it, -wherein we agree; three, the additional appendices, about which we -have some differences.”</p> - -<p>Now, if as by their own acknowledgment the Church of England is a true -Church, and the difference between them is only in a few modes and -accidents, why should we expect that they will suffer galleys, -corporeal punishment, and banishment for these trifles? There is no -question but they will be wiser; even their own principles will not -bear them out in it; they will certainly comply with the laws and with -reason; and though at the first severity they may seem hard, the next -age will feel nothing of it; the contagion will be rooted out; the -disease being cured, there will be no need of the operation; but if -they should venture to transgress and fall into the pit, all the world -must condemn their obstinacy, as being without ground from their own -principles.</p> - -<p>Thus the pretence of cruelty will be taken off, and the party actually -suppressed, and the disquiets they have so often brought upon the -nation prevented.</p> - -<p>Their numbers and their wealth make them haughty, and that is so far -from being an argument to persuade us to forbear them, that it is a -warning to us, without any delay, to reconcile them to the unity of -the Church or remove them from us.</p> - -<p>At present, Heaven be praised, they are not so formidable as they have -been, and it is our own fault if ever we suffer them to be so. -Providence and the Church of England seem to join in this particular, -that now the destroyers of the nation’s peace may be overturned, and -to this end the present opportunity seems to be put into our hands.</p> - -<p>To this end her present Majesty seems reserved to enjoy the crown, -that the ecclesiastic as well as civil rights of the nation may be -restored by her hand. To this end the face of affairs have received -such a turn in the process of a few months as never has been before; -the leading men of the nation, the universal cry of the people, the -unanimous request of the clergy, agree in this, that the deliverance -of our Church is at hand. For this end has Providence given us such a -Parliament, such a Convocation, such a gentry, and such a Queen as we -never had before. And what may be the consequences of a neglect of -such opportunities? The succession of the crown has but a dark -prospect; another Dutch turn may make the hopes of it ridiculous and -the practice impossible. Be the house of our future princes never so -well inclined, they will be foreigners, and many years will be spent -in suiting the genius of strangers to this crown and the interests of -the nation; and how many ages it may be before the English throne be -filled with so much zeal and can dour, so much tenderness and hearty -affection to the Church as we see it now covered with, who can -imagine?</p> - -<p>It is high time, then, for the friends of the Church of England to -think of building up and establishing her in such a manner that she -may be no more invaded by foreigners nor divided by factions, schisms, -and error.</p> - -<p>If this could be done by gentle and easy methods, I should be glad; -but the wound is corroded, the vitals begin to mortify, and nothing -but amputation of members can complete the cure; all the ways of -tenderness and compassion, all persuasive arguments, have been made -use of in vain.</p> - -<p>The humour of the Dissenters has so increased among the people, that -they hold the Church in defiance, and the house of God is an -abomination among them; nay, they have brought up their posterity in -such prepossessed aversions to our holy religion, that the ignorant -mob think we are all idolaters and worshippers of Baal, and account it -a sin to come within the walls of our churches.</p> - -<p>The primitive Christians were not more shy of a heathen temple or of -meat offered to idols, nor the Jews of swine’s flesh, than some of our -Dissenters are of the Church, and the divine service solemnised -therein.</p> - -<p>This obstinacy must be rooted out with the profession of it; while the -generation are less at liberty daily to affront God Almighty and -dishonour His holy worship, we are wanting in our duty to God and our -mother, the Church of England.</p> - -<p>How can we answer it to God, to the Church, and to our posterity to -leave them entangled with fanaticism, error, and obstinacy in the -bowels of the nation; to leave them an enemy in their streets, that in -time may involve them in the same crimes, and endanger the utter -extirpation of religion in the nation?</p> - -<p>What is the difference betwixt this and being subjected to the power -of the Church of Rome, from whence we have reformed? If one be an -extreme on one hand, and one on another, it is equally destructive to -the truth to have errors settled among us, let them be of what nature -they will.</p> - -<p>Both are enemies of our Church and of our peace; and why should it not -be as criminal to admit an enthusiast as a Jesuit? Why should the -Papist with his seven sacraments be worse than the Quaker with no -sacraments at all? Why should religious houses be more intolerable -than meeting-houses? Alas, the Church of England! What with Popery on -one hand, and schismatics on the other, how has she been crucified -between two thieves!</p> - -<p>Now let us crucify the thieves. Let her foundations be established -upon the destruction of her enemies. The doors of mercy being always -open to the returning part of the deluded people, let the obstinate be -ruled with the rod of iron.</p> - -<p>Let all true sons of so holy and oppressed a mother, exasperated by -her afflictions, harden their hearts against those who have oppressed -her.</p> - -<p>And may God Almighty put it into the hearts of all the friends of -truth to lift up a standard against pride and Antichrist, that the -posterity of the sons of error may be rooted out from the face of this -land for ever.</p> - -<h3>FOOTNOTES</h3> - -<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_01" href="#div4Ref_01">Footnote 1</a>: <i>Hours -in a Library</i>.</p> - -<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_02" href="#div4Ref_02">Footnote 2</a>: Wilson’s <i> -Memoirs of Defoe</i>, London, 1830, III., p. 429.</p> - -<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_03" href="#div4Ref_03">Footnote 3</a>: Defoe -mentions the letter in his <i>Review</i> for August -11th, 1705.</p> - -<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_04" href="#div4Ref_04">Footnote 4</a>: I was not -called Colonel Jacque as at London, but -Colonel, and they did not know me by any other name.</p> - -<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_05" href="#div4Ref_05">Footnote 5</a>: He did not -now talk quite so blindly and childishly as -when he was a boy, and when the custom-house gentleman talked to him -about his names.</p> - -<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_06" href="#div4Ref_06">Footnote 6</a>: Here he -showed him the horsewhip that was given him with -his new office.</p> - -<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_07" href="#div4Ref_07">Footnote 7</a>: So the -negroes call the owner of the plantation, or at -least so they called him, because he was a great man in the country, -having three or four large plantations.</p> - -<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_08" href="#div4Ref_08">Footnote 8</a>: To be -drunk in a negro is to be mad; for when they get -rum they are worse than raving, and fit to do any manner of mischief.</p> - -<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_09" href="#div4Ref_09">Footnote 9</a>: He -understood the plot, and took the opportunity to tell -him that, to see what he would say.</p> - -<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_10" href="#div4Ref_10">Footnote 10</a>: He -understood him; he meant he would beg your honour for -me, that I might not be hanged for offending you.</p> - -<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_11" href="#div4Ref_11">Footnote 11</a>: This old -proverb was quoted by Robert Burton in his -“Anatomy of Melancholy” (1621), “Where God hath a temple the Devil -hath a chapel” (Part III. sc. iv. subs. 1). It was also No. 670 in -George Herbert’s “Jacula Prudentium,” first published in 1640, where -it ran, “No sooner is a temple built to God but the Devil builds a -chapel hard by.” Defoe was the first rhymer of the proverb, and the -rider to it is his own.</p> - -<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_12" href="#div4Ref_12">Footnote 12</a>: William -the Conqueror. [D.F.]</p> - -<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_13" href="#div4Ref_13">Footnote 13</a>: Or -archer. [D.F.]</p> - -<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_14" href="#div4Ref_14">Footnote 14</a>: Dr. -Sherlock, <i>de facto</i>. [D.F.]</p> - -<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_15" href="#div4Ref_15">Footnote 15</a>: K. J. I. -[D.F.]</p> - -<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_16" href="#div4Ref_16">Footnote 16</a>: K. C. II. -[D.F.]</p> - -<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_17" href="#div4Ref_17">Footnote 17</a>: Lady -Castlemaine, of the Italian-French family of -Villars, was first known to Charles II. as Mrs. Palmer. Afterwards her -husband was made Earl of Castlemaine, and in 1668 she was made Duchess -of Cleveland. Of the cost of this woman Andrew Marvell wrote:—“They -have signed and sealed ten thousand pounds a year more to the Duchess -of Cleveland; who has likewise near ten thousand pounds a year out of -the new farm of the country excise of beer and ale; five thousand -pounds a year out of the Post Office; and, they say, the reversion of -all the King’s leases, the reversion of all places in the Custom -House, the green-wax, and, indeed, what not? All promotions, spiritual -and temporal, pass under her cognisance,” &c. Charles II. had by her -five children.</p> - -<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_18" href="#div4Ref_18">Footnote 18</a>: Louise -Renée de Puencovet de Queroualle came over to -Dover as a maid of honour, and was created Duchess of Portsmouth in -August 1673. She cost as much as Lady Castlemaine. Her son, Charles -Lennox, was made Duke of Richmond. The Duchess of Portsmouth was -living when this satire appeared. She died in 1734.</p> - -<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_19" href="#div4Ref_19">Footnote 19</a>: Frederick -de Schomberg, an old favourite of King -William’s, was made Duke of Schomberg on the 10th of April 1689. -Another friend of the King’s, William Bentinck, was created Earl of -Portland on the 9th of April 1689. His son and heir was raised to a -dukedom in 1716.</p> - -<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_20" href="#div4Ref_20">Footnote 20</a>: The -drunkard’s name for Canary. [D.F.]</p> - -<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_21" href="#div4Ref_21">Footnote 21</a>: “Mobile,” -applied to the movable, unstable populace, was -first abridged to “mob” in Charles the Second’s time.</p> - -<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_22" href="#div4Ref_22">Footnote 22</a>: The -Devil.—[D.F.]</p> - -<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_23" href="#div4Ref_23">Footnote 23</a>: Dating -from 1688-89, the Revolution and accession of -King William III.</p> - -<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_24" href="#div4Ref_24">Footnote 24</a>: Charles -I., James II., William III.</p> - -<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_25" href="#div4Ref_25">Footnote 25</a>: On the -16th of July, 1604, the Puritan clergy within the -Church were required to conform on or before the 30th of November on -pain of expulsion. On the 4th of December Whitgift’s successor, -Richard Bancroft, was consecrated Archbishop of Canterbury. He -strictly carried out this order, and declared every man, cleric or -lay, to be excommunicated who questioned the complete accordance of -the Prayer Book with the Word of God. On the 6th of September, 1620, -the <i>Mayflower</i> left England with the first freight of English -families that sought freedom of worship where they came to be the -founders of a New England across the sea.</p> - -<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_26" href="#div4Ref_26">Footnote 26</a>: Charles -II. unconstitutionally suspended the penal laws -against nonconformists and recusants in 1679.</p> - -<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_27" href="#div4Ref_27">Footnote 27</a>: The story -of the Rye House Plot was used for bringing -Algernon Sidney and Lord William Russell to the scaffold.</p> - -<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_28" href="#div4Ref_28">Footnote 28</a>: James II. -unconstitutionally suspended the penal laws -against nonconformists and recusants by Declarations of Indulgence in -1686 and 1688.</p> - -<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_29" href="#div4Ref_29">Footnote 29</a>: The oath -taken by Tories against the legal right of the -Pretender to the crown was said to reserve the question of his divine -right of succession. Divine right was unchangeable, but laws were -liable to change—and so far as they go, what to-day is treason may be -loyalty to-morrow.</p> - -<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_30" href="#div4Ref_30">Footnote 30</a>: The -Revocation of the Edict of Nantes was signed on the -17th of October 1685. All Protestant churches were to be demolished, -and their ministers who would not be converted were to leave France -within a fortnight. Fugitive reformers who did not return within four -months would have their property confiscated. Lay Reformers were -forbidden to leave France, on pain of the galleys for men and -confiscation of body and goods for women. Those who remained were -exposed to cruelties of the soldiery. The King thought that his way of -conversion by dragoons had reduced a million and a half of French -heretics to twelve or fifteen thousand; but between the Revocation and -the time when Defoe wrote this pamphlet, it has been estimated that -250,000 French Protestants left France to establish homes in England -and elsewhere.</p> - -<p class="hang1"><a name="div4_31" href="#div4Ref_31">Footnote 31</a>: John -Howe, in his answer to Defoe’s request for a -statement of opinion from him on Occasional Conformity.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The History and Remarkable Life of the -Truly Honourable Colonel Jacque, Commonly called Colonel Jack, by Daniel Defoe - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK COLONEL JACK *** - -***** This file should be named 52603-h.htm or 52603-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/2/6/0/52603/ - -Produced by Charles Bowen from page scans provided by -Google Books (Robarts - University of Toronto) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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