Part 29

Most respected Country-men, and more especially you, who frequently pass the Road, the most part of my notorious wicked life having been consumed in all manner of cheats and debauchery, and that in part of late maintained by robbing: seeing now the wretchedness of that course of life, and being sensible of the injury I have done my Country, I looked upon my self as bound to satisfie the debt I owe to you, to the uttermost of my power; which reacheth to an act not more satisfactory, than good advice how to avoid those dangers which too many of late days have fallen into, since Dammee Plumes of Feathers came in fashion. First then, if you carry a charge about you, make it not known to any, and conceal the time of your departure in your own breast; for it is a custom no less common than indiscreet and foolish, among some sort of persons, to blaze abroad among their reputed friends, the time of their intended journey, and vaingloriously make them acquainted with what considerable summs they should carry with them; by which means the Son hath oftentimes betrayed the Father, and one friend another, by informing or complotting with some of the Padding society; the discoverer sharing (for giving notice of the prize) one quarter or more of the gain he betrays, when but for this foolish humour they had not been way-lay’d. Again, have a special care, both of the Hostler, Chamberlain and Host himself: the two first the Thief is sure to bribe; and the last, in expectation of a share with them (as it is so ordered) or in hopes that the major part of what they get shall be profusely spent in his house, gives them items where the booty lies. Especially be sure on the road to associate with none but such as you find inclined rather to leave your company then keep it; for they are very suspicious persons, and oftentimes prove dangerous, that press into your society, and are very inquisitive to know whither you intend, spinning out the time with many impertinent questions. But if you would know whether the strangers intentions be honestly inclined, take occasion to make some stay: observe you in the mean time their motion: for if they make an halt, or alight, so that you may overtake them, follow at a distance; but if their pace be so slow that you needs must overtake them, look about you, and provide for your safety; for there is no surer symptom of an Highway-man than such purposed delays. The other usual marks of such Moths be these; they commonly throw a great Leaguer-cloak over their shoulders, covering their faces, or else they have visibly disguised their faces in some manner or other. Now of late they find very useful a Vizard, in every respect, (but for the largeness) like the _a-la-mode_ Vizard-masks so much worn by Gentlewomen, who endeavour to conceal the shame of their wanton actions by absconding their faces. If you meet with any who have none of these things, as soon as they come somewhat near you, fix your eye full in their face: if they turn their heads from you, keep your distance, and ride from them with what expedition you can; but being surprized by any you know, be very careful that you discover it not to them; for these Desperado’s never think themselves secure, till they have prevented your giving intelligence, by cutting asunder the thread of your life. Observe whether their beards and hair of their head agree in a colour, and are not counterfeit; and be sure to beware of him that rides in a Mountier-cap, and of such as whisper oft; or of any one single person that intrudes into your company; for that is one way they have to ensnare the Traveller: he will tell you a great many merry and facetious Stories, meerly to ingratiate himself with you; which having obtained, he shews himself more than ordinary civil, and so fearful of anything that may prejudice his new acquaintance, that he no sooner espies two riding toward them, but he apparently trembles, and will presently question his new friends, what charge they have about them: if little, the best way were to yield to these approaching persons, if Thieves, rather than hazard a life; but if it be any thing considerable, he will presently vow to be true to them, and rather than they should come to any danger or loss, he will fight with them as long as he hath breath. These so causlesly suspected, were perhaps down-right honest fellows: but before they have travelled five miles further, ’tis ten to one but they overtake two or three more, one it may be riding aside with twists of Hay instead of Boots, it may be with a Fork, Bill, or Goad in his hand, like a Country-Boor. It may be your newly-entertained treacherous Friend will tell you that he will make good sport with this Country-Bumpkin, and so to that purpose ask him some foolish impertinent question, which the other shall answer as ridiculously; so spinning out the time till a convenient place and a fit opportunity serve; then shall this pretended friend seize one of you himself, and my Hedge-creeper turn Hector, and lay hold on another: and now will it be in vain for you to strive, for nothing but money will ransome you out of their hands.

CHAP. LXI.

_Instructions in what manner, at what time, and what Road is most safe to ride._

There are so many ways to rob the innocent, that it behoveth every man to be very circumspect, how, when, and where he rides. If you have a quantity of money about you, chuse rather to ride by night then day; for by this means you are freed from any Horseman or Cutter whatever. But this course cannot seal your protection from base sheep-stealing penny-Rogues, the baseness and lowness of whose spirits will stoop for a Noble, though they hang for their pains; therefore take heed of their long poles, and that they do not suddenly start out and lay hold on your bridle. As for the nobler sort of Rogues, this they believe as an undeniable Maxime, that none will ride by night that are worth the robbing. Besides, they are oblig’d to take their Inn betimes, lest through mistrust they should be apprehended: Moreover, they hardly dare adventure in the dark, because they cannot discern what dangerous defences the assailed have, as Pistols, or other private weapons in readiness, nor see their own advantages: and withall, it will be no difficult matter to convey in the obscurity of the night, what they have undiscovered, into some ditch. Chuse to travel in byroads, for it is a general rule with High-way-men to keep their station on the greatest Roads, that of the number that pass by, they may select such as they think will prove the richest booties. Here now as a Corollary, take notice of a foolish custom: Some when they ride by any place that commonly speaks danger, they will bustle up together side by side; which is the usual overthrow of such. Wherefore take my counsel here, when ere you ride, in fear especially, ride far asunder, at least a stones throw: by so doing none durst set upon you, fearing lest this stragling order give some leave to escape undoubtedly, and so raise the Country in their pursuit.

CHAP. LXII.

_How a man is to behave himself if beset or surprised._

When the Rogue bids you stand, look not about as if amazed, or hoping for a rescue; for this doth but encourage them to the height of resolution and expedition: but looking sternly, as if fear were a stranger to you, making your brow the throne of rage and fury, draw, and undauntedly tell them, that though you have but little, yet you would willingly sacrifice your life rather than lose a penny; and add ten more to it (if you had them) then have your reputation stained with cowardise. This is the readiest and most certain way to save both your mony and credit; for they fighting with a guilty conscience within and without, against Country, Law, and Justice, if nobly a man resists (this I know experimentally) the stoutest, and most undaunted, and highest spirit of them all will stoop to discouragement. Some I have known, that durst out-brave the roaring Cannon to the mouth, yet their courages have found an alteration, when on this account they have met with a bold and nobly resolved Antagonist: but if by your own negligence, and the malevolency of fortune, the pleasure of your journey is eclipsed and clouded by a sudden surprisal, and that you see no hopes but that you must yield, be not so unwise as to strive when it is too late, but give them the best words you can; and rack your wits to please their ear, most devoutly wishing you had more moneys to supply their present occasions; and so banishing all dejectedness from your looks, deliver some, and so perhaps they will let you pass without further search. If they make a second offer, yield freely to it: then it may be they will sift you soundly; never in that time lay your hand near your money, and seeming fearless, it will be a means to make their suspition of a greater sum to vanish. This I have known my self, that when I have taken so much as pleased me well, by mens fear I have had grounds to think they had more, and so made me research; laying my hand but near the place where they had concealed the rest, suddenly would they cry out, that they were undone, when as yet I had found nothing; but by this their foolish and undiscreet carriage I have found the remainder, which otherwise might have been secure and safe from me.

CHAP. LXIII.

_Directions, if robbed, how to follow the Thieves; which way to set _Hue_ and _Cry_ after them; how to coast, and where to find them._

If you are robbed, there is no help but to indeavour to surprize the Thieves by a strict pursuit: Therefore let no _Remora_ or delay deter you from obtaining your wish, and so seize them that so lately seized you. In the first place, scowre the next Road, not streight before, but either on the right or left hand; for they know _Hue_ and _Cries_ never cross the passages, but go straight along. If in so doing you miss them, then conclude they are sheltred in some Inn which you have past, and therefore you must set some careful Spies, with a sufficient assistance near at hand, and be confident you will see them come that way, without the least apprehension of fear, or fear of apprehension. But this observe, that if they light of any considerable sum, then do they ride that night to their general Rendezvous in _London_, which is too sure a shelter for them: but observably take notice, for here is as eminent an example of their subtilty, as any ever the Devil enrich’d their knowledge with; For, if you are robbed in the eastern quarter, pursue them not in the direct Road to _London_ with _Hue_ and _Cry_, for by some other way they are fled; but haste to the City, and in _Westminster_, _Holborn_, the _Strand_ and _Covent-garden_ search speedily, for there they are. If Northward they light on you, then to _Southwark_, the _Bankside_, or _Lambeth_ they are gone; and when you find any one, seize all with him, for they are all Companions that are together.

CHAP. LXIV.

_Cordial advice, and infallible instructions for the _Innkeeper_, how to know Thieves from his honest Guests._

Methinks the many tragical examples of Innkeepers, who have harboured and countenanced Thieves, were sufficient (I should think) to deter those that survive from doing the like; wherefore my advice to them in general is, that their chiefest care be, not to wink at any such life-destroying actions for hope of gain, lest that sweet be imbittered by future trouble and disgrace. That you may know them, observe these Rules: First, they are extraordinary curious about their horses; they will have them as strangely drest, as strangely fed, with Mashes, Bread, Flesh, and mingled provender, and that in an unusual quantity. If any wonder at the extraordinary feeding of their horses, they will endeavour to palliate their design therein, by telling that their tricks and good abilities deserve it: nay, sometimes they will boast, that their worthy services will soon repay the cost; using the like dark words to that effect, which are palpable grounds for suspition. It is their custom likewise to ask, Whose horse is that? or, What is the owner thereof standing by? of what function or quality? whither he intends to travel? how far, and when? Observe again, that their Cloak-bags are for the most part empty, carrying them only but to make a shew. Next, the Chamberlain conducting them to their Chamber, he is presently dismist; but let him hearken, and if they are High-way men, ’tis ten to one but they fall to share what they have purchased that day; and he shall see every one taking his dividend, as well as hear the money, if he but narrowly pry into the Chamber. This they never defer, lest he which hath the purse should cheat the rest. But above all, for their discovery, make this trial; Cause one to knock hastily at the gate, giving him instructions in the mean time that attends on them, to observe their carriage then, and he shall see them start and stare in each others face with ghastly looks, being struck with fear and amazement: speak so that they may hear you, seemingly to some or other in the house, asking what Officers those are? what is their business? or whom do they look for? or the like. If they seem much frighted, bid them fear not, for none shall search where they are, to offer them any injurie; and that they are as safe with him, as in a well fortified Castle. By this means you may pry into their private thoughts and actions so far, as that you may gather, not only substantial grounds for more then bare conjectures, but it may be they will confess something too, desiring your concealment and succour, and they shall think themselves for ever ingaged: after this you may use your own discretion. Then again, you may perceive by their loitering and disregard of time, what they expect; for they only bait but to observe what purchase they can see pass by; which when they have espyed, they will pretend immediate business calls them to be gone, and so mount in great haste. Again, when they come to an Inn to lodge, they commonly come in divided, or in several Companies, frustrating the _Hue_ and _Cry_ by their number: besides, if one part be surprized, the other may escape; and when the residue comes in, they seem as strangers one to the other, enquiring of mine Host what their Companions are, what Country-men, whether he knows them? and if they find he hath either jealousie or suspition of any of them, they will feign some of business that necessitates their speedy departure: but if you take them for honest men, as they met by seeming chance in your Kitchin, so after some formal civil salutations, and drinking together, they soon became acquainted, and before they part, shew much familiarity. Thus as I was farther endeavouring to lay open their devices and deceits, to repair what wrong my Country had sustained by me, word was brought me, that I must immediately appear at the Bar, and there answer what should be objected against me; and it was but just that I should be now exposed to the Law of Justice, since I had so often rejected and slighted the Law of Mercy.

CHAP. LXV.

_He receives sentence of Condemnation; he thereupon seriously contemplates Death, and considers Eternity._

Appearing at the Sessions, and seeing so many of my Adversaries ready to give in their evidence against me, I concluded my self a leman; my very countenance betrayed both my thoughts of guilt and despair. In short, I received sentence of Death to be hanged at _Tyburn_, by the neck till I was dead. I thought these sad tidings would have presently deprived me of my life, and so have saved the Hangman a labour. All the way I went back to _Newgate_, I fancied nothing but Gibbets stood in my way, and that I saw no other trades but Cord-winders. Being entred the prison, I was forthwith put into the Dungeon, laden with shackles: I had not been many hours there, before a charitable Physician of the soul, I mean a Minister, came to visit me, who advised me to repent, since it was high time; and endeavouring to disburden my conscience, by extracting from me a general ingenious confession of what enormous crimes I had committed. Finding this person to have no other design, but merely for my souls sake, I dissected the actions of my whole life, not omitting any thing that might be accounted sinful. He was amazed to hear such notorious Roguery in one Man, and so young; wherefore, before he applied any cordial, he administered his corrosives, and so thorowly searcht every corner of my heart, that there was nothing hid from him. In the first place, he made me sensible of the wickedness of my life, and that every, nay, the least evil action, deserved the loss of eternal and inexpressible happiness, and instead thereof, torments everlasting and intolerable. It will take up too much time, to give an account of every thing this pious man alleadged for my information, contrition, and consolation: so effectually and powerfully he delivered his divine Message, that the obdurateness of my heart was able to hold out no longer, but melting into tears, was willing to have its flintiness broken by the hammer of Sacred Writ. Finding me in so good a temper, he left me to God and my self, for the perfecting of that work he had so hopefully and successfully begun. I began to consider what I was, only a statue of dust kneaded with tears, and mov’d by the hid engines of restless passions; a clod of earth, which the shortest Fever can burn to ashes, and the least showre of rheums wash away to nothing; and yet I made as great a noise in the world, as if both the Globes (those glorious Twins) had been unwombed from that formless Chaos, by the Midwifry of my wit: all my actions were attended with so much success, and so answerable to my desires, as if I had been one of heavens privy-Counsellors; which swelled me up with so much arrogance, that I spake thunder, lookt lightning, and breathed destruction; and by the eloquence of my own vanity, I perswaded my self, that the machinations of my brain were able to unhinge the Poles: but it is otherwise decreed, that the Ministers of Justice should put a period to my boundless pride, to make me know I am but a man, and that mortal too. And having but a short time to live, I thought it very requisite to think of that which must shortly be the means to convey me either to bliss or woe; by so doing, I seized on death before it seized on me. It was the fittest subject I could b usie my soul about; for what more heavenly, than the thought of immortality? and what so necessary, as the thought of death? _Seneca _saith_, When he was a young man, he studied to live well; when aged how to dye well_: but I never practised _Artem bene vivendi_, and therefore am so ignorant in _Arte bene moriendi_; which makes me so fearful, that I know not how to be careful of not being found unprepared. Methinks I already hear that doleful saying, _Ite imparata in paratum_. My sole companions were now despair and fear, for the King of fear is death; and indeed there is nothing absolutely fearful, but what tends to death, and I am confident, the fear of death is worse than the pains of death: for, fear of death kills us often, whereas death it self can do it but once. Life would not be troubled with too much care, nor death with too much fear, because fears betray, and cares disorder those succours which reason would afford to both: and though some say, he is more sorrowful than is necessary, that is sorrowful before there is necessity; yet that soul cannot be in a good condition, so long as it fears to think of dying; but did I not sorrow now, and justly fear that messenger that must bring me before the Tribunal of Heaven, I should have too little time to wash away so many black spots, especially having nothing but objects of terror and amazement before my eyes; but I never needed have feared what I should suffer when dead, if I had not deserved it whilst I lived. Life is not alike to all men: To such a wicked wretch as I am, the best had been, that I never had been, and the next best were to live long; in this condition, it was ill for me that I was born, worse for me that I must die: for without unfeigned repentance, this dying life will bring me to a living death; whereas a good man is otherwise minded, he counts his end the best of his being, for that brings him to the fruition of his hope: could death end misery, it should be the greatest happiness I would wish: but my conscience will not let me lye, for I fear the end of my present miseries will be but the beginning of worse; yea, such as death it self cannot terminate. Now came into my mind the consideration of Eternity: and with it, I remembred how it was represented by the Ancients, which very much helpt my present Contemplation; which was thus: A vast Den full of horror, round about which a Serpent winds it self, and in the winding bites it self by the tail. At the right-hand of this Den, stands a young man of a most beautiful and pleasant countenance, holding in his right-hand a Bow and two Arrows, and in his left an Harp. In the entrance sits an old man opposite, and having his eyes very intent on his Table-book, writes according to the dictations of the young man standing by. At the left-hand of this Den, sits a grave Matron gray-headed, and having her eyes always busied. At the mouth hereof, are four stairs ascending by degrees; the first is of iron, the second of brass, the third of silver, and the last of Gold: On these are little children sporting up and down, playing, fearless, and inapprehensive of falling. The sight of this Emblem of Eternity inculcated into my thoughts this interpretation: The Den, which was bottomless, signified to me the incomprehensibility of Eternity; the circumferating Serpent, Time; the young man, Nature: on Earth and Hell are her arrows fastned; but in Heaven there is the Harp, fulness of joy, and pleasures inexpressible: The old man I lookt upon to be Fate; the grave Matron, Providence; the Stairs, distinct Times and Ages; the Children running up and down the Stairs without fear of danger, do signifie foolish Man and Woman, who regardless of their salvation, sport and play with it so long, till they slipt into Eternity. So have I been careless of that which should have been my greatest care, though I knew (but would not know) that the least and lightest touch of death were sufficient, in a moment to translate me from Time to Eternity. Were we all to live a thousand years (whereas the Executioner is to put a period to my life in one day longer) we should before we had ran half our course, in our very non-age, apply our selves to repentance and newness of life. Now, now is the time, every hour, every moment: now one part of an hour (as I am informed, to my great comfort) may obtain pardon here, which all Eternity cannot hereafter. Therefore, let this now be my time (this one day I have left me) to cancel my debts and trespasses against Heaven, which I can never do in Hell-fire, in all the years and times to come hereafter. Let such who have liv’d (as I) in all manner of wickedness, consider what Eternity is, which may make them return like the penitent Prodigal. What then is Eternity? It is a Circle running back into it self, whose center is every where, and circumference no where, that is to say, infinite: It is an Orb that hath neither beginning nor ending: Or it is a Wheel,

_Volvitur & volvetur in omne volubilis evum._ A Wheel that turns, a Wheel that turned ever: A Wheel that turns, and will leave turning never.