The Discovery of a London Monster, called, The Blacke Dogge of New-gate.
AWonder, a wonder Gentlemen, Hels brooke loose, and the Blacke Dogge of Newgate is got out of Prison, and leapt into a Signe: What the Devils here (quoth a mad fellow going by) seeing the Black Curre ring'd about the nose with a golden Hoope, his two sawcer-like eyes, and an Iron chains about his necke; this cannot choose (said he) but be a well customed house, where such a Porter keeps the doore, and cals in company. Roome for a customer, quoth I, so in I went, where I found English, Scottish, Welsh, Irish, Dutch and French, in severall Roomes; some drinking the neat wine of Drleance, some the Gascony, some the Burdeaux, there wanted neither Sherry sack, nor Charnico, Maligo, nor Peeter Seeme, Ambercolour'd Candy, nor Liquorish Ipocras, brown beloved Basterd, fat Aligant, or any quicke spirited Liquor that might draw their witts into a Circle, to see the Devill by in [...]nagination: I seeing this Gallimaufry of Company, set me downe, and called for my whole pinte alone, which I had not halfe drunk vp, but there sits downe by me a poore Thin-gut fellow, with a face as red as the gilded knobs of an Aldermans Horse-bridle, one, as it seemed, newly come out of Limbo, with commendation to his rugged Devilship, Mounsieur Shagg, the Blacke Dogge of Newgate, who being a fellow, as I thought, not worth sixe pence in money, yet would he spend eight pence to keepe me company. I, to equall his expences, called for as much, and thereupon having both our wits set vpon the [Page] racke of invention, beganne to argue of the Blacke Doggs beginning, and how he came first to be called the blacke Dog of Newgate: now touching the same, I maintained that I had read an old Chronicle, that it was a walking spirit in the likenesse of a blacke Dog, gliding vp and downe the streets a little before the time of Execution, and in the night whilst the Sessions continued, and his beginning thus.
In the raigne of King Henry the third there hapned such a famine through England, but especially in London, that many starved for want of food, by which meanes the Prisoners in Newgate eat vp one another altue, but commonly those that came newly in, and such as could make but small resistance. Amongst many others cast into this Denne of misery, there was a certaine Scholler brought thither, vpon suspition of Conjuring, and that he by Charmes and devilish Whithcrafts, had done much hurt to the Kings Subjects, which Scholler, mauger his Devils Furies, Sprits and Goblins, was by the famished Prisoners eaten vp, and deemed passing good meate. This being done, such an idle conceit possessed the mindes of the poore Prisoners, that they supposed, nightly to see the Scholler in the shape of a black Dog walking vp and downe the Prison, ready with his rabening Iawes to teare out their bowels: for his late humane flesh they had so hungerly eaten, & withall they hourely heard (as they thought) strange groanes and cries, as if it had beene some creature in great paine and torments; whereupon such a nightly feare grew amongst them, that i [...] turned to a Frenzie, and from a Frenzie to Desperation; in which desperation they killed the Keeper, and so many of them escaped forth, but yet whither soever they came or went they imagined the blacke Dog to follow, and by this means, as I doe thinke, the name of him began.
Not so, quoth Signior Thin-gut, I thinke it rather an idle fiction, then a probable truth; but this I must tell you Sir, (said he) I know it for a truth, that there is no other blacke Dog, that I ever saw or heard of, but a great blacke stone standing in the dungeon called Limbo, the place where the [Page] condemned Prisoners be put after their Iudgement, vpon which they set a burning candle in the night, against which, I haue heard that a desperate condemned Prisoner d [...]shed out his braines; and that is all the Blacke Dogs that I know, or heard of: But if you be so pleased as to publish it, I will satisfie the wondring world with a discourse of the Blacke Dog in the best manner I can, and the very same, that the wisest judgements thinkes it to be. In so doing (quoth I) you please God, benefit your Country, and satisfie your [...]riends: so with a stayed looke and in sober manner, he began as followeth.
Sir (quoth he) the Blacke Dog is a black Conscience, haun [...]ing none but blacke conditioned people, such as Newgate may ch [...]llenge to be guests; yet this rugged Curre hath his sev [...]rall abidings; as in the bosoms of Traytors, Murtherers, Theeues, Cut-purses, Cunny-catchers, and such like, who being the Devils blacke Parator summons them, one after another, to appeare personaily at his Hempton-hall of his three-l [...]g'd-Tiborne, but in the meane time they commit many notable fellonies and cozonings, to the great hurt of plaine minded people: as for example, I will first begin with a Woman Theefe, which in my minde is a limb of the Devill, for at any not able Robbery, where still a woman is an Actor, there likely is committed some murther or other, for as they be the kindest in loue, so are they cruellest in hate: But now [...]o one Woman Theefe. I once knew living about London, a lusty W [...]nch, Gentlewoman-like, cloathed in silke and tasf [...]ty, [...]ood Plate and rich Furniture about her house, and well esteemed of her neighbours, that had no other meanes to maintaine her estate but plaine Theeverie: in what manner thinke you? mar [...] in this kind: she had for her p [...]rpos [...] a homely sute of apparel, like unto a Trads [...]mans w [...]fe, a pa [...]re of shoo [...]s with cloth soles to prevent crackling, a fire-sticke in her hand vnkindled, and so in the morning b [...]time would she along the str [...]etes, and any where she did chance to espy either Gentlemans or Merchants doore open, in shee would, where being not intercepted by any, what [Page] thing soever lay in her way was good purchase, and with her it should: as Hat, Cloake, Gowne, Petticoate, or Smock, or such like. But if it chanced that either Maid-servant, or an Apprentice, or any other met her, then would she desire to kindle her sticke, where sitting by the fire shee would spend away the time hovering over it, till the coast were cleare, or else would she in needy sort request a cup of small beere, which the honest minded Maid will fetch her, thinking her to be some poore neighbour, perchance in a silver Beaker, which she like an Hipocrite will sip, and simper over so long till the maids back be turned, and then goes away beaker and all: she will sometimes in her cloth shooes tread so softly that a mouse cannot heare her, and venture vp into a Knights Chamber, he and his Lady being in bed together, and carry away the Jewels they wore the day before, but if being spi [...]d by any of the Houshold, she hath the name of one Gentleman or other aright, which is well acquainted in that house, and so escapeth vnsuspected: other times she will venture into Mercers or Silkemens shops, when they arebusied with most customers, as though she were some waitingmayde to a Lady or Gentle woman there present, and with a hook vnder her wearing apparell will, like a cunning Porter, beare away either Silke, Uelvet, or other rich Stuffes, not perceived by the Shop-keepers, or any Customer, many such conveiances is she Crast-master in, which in my minde are the blacke d [...]des of iniquity, and well may she be called one of the Blacke Dogs of New-gate, for at last, the rewards of New-gate will fall to her share.
I could tell you likewise where the Blacke Dog keepes his randevous, if I do not mistake, in the bosomes of Chamberlaines and Tapsters in great Inns: and though the Master be an honest man, the Servants may bee knavish, I speake not to all, but [...]o some, as by the Law Probatum est: To our purpose: A plaine Country Gentleman, Yeoman, Farmer, or such like, comming vp to the Terme, and chancing to happen into one of these Inns, hee as a guest boldly throwes his cloake downe vpon the Hall Table, thinking [Page] all true men in the house, being as then full of Guests; in comes the Tapster or Chamberlaine, in jesting manner, and carries the Cloake away in good sadnesse, either into the Tap-house, or into the Hostry, and there keepes it for his owne; the poore Countrey man missing it, makes inquiry, thinking some of the house had laid it vp, but no newes thereof, (confesse and be hangd) thinkes he that keepes it in Lauender, in too sweet a place for the countrymans having it againe: the Innkeeper himselfe hearing of his guests losse, goes chasing and fretting vp and downe, that his house is thus discredited by theeues, and layes wait at every Brokers, both in Long-lane, Charter-house-lane, Barbican, Hounds-ditch, and such like places, but no newes thereof; so is the countryman sent home to his wife without a cloak, perhaps with as little money, by which meanes the Innkeeper for ever after loseth his guests.
Now come we to the Theefe, Tapster or Chamberlain, I meane he that stole the cloake in ieast, he must now needs sell in good earnest; to whom, to the Broakers? no: for there is waite laid: whither then, to a Neighbour? no neither for then it may come to light, and bee knowne of his Master: but vnto a kinde of Fripperers it must be vented, which be certaine Marchants of old wares, going vp and downe to buy Lists, ends of Cloath, and old Cloakes, one of these must buy it, and send it into France, to learne the French Tongue, or into the Netherlands to speake Duch, these be terrible blacke Doggs indeed, and haue sawcer-like eyes that can looke broad and wide quite over a whole Citie; but let them alone and lose themselues in their owne adventures, it concernes not me, there is a whip in store for these Doggs, and their kennels will bee ransackt I feare me. But now to wade deeper into this Labyrinth of knavery, I will tell you as notable a pranke as ever you heard by one of these arche Bandoggs done within these few yeares. There were two of this faculty which I name M. A. and M. B: whom (to bring this their proceeding purpose to effect) either bought or hired two Chaines, the one [Page] of perfect good gold, the other plaine copper double gilt, and away goe they into the Countrey towards Beverley Faire, in York-shire, well mounted vpon two goodly geldings, as they had been two substantiall Gentlemen, and riding by the way they hapned into company of a Northerne Gentleman riding from London, with whom they spent liberally,, and every night at their lodgings were all fellowes both at board and bed; in this familiar sort riding together some two or three daies, they began thus to effect their purpose, and to cast forth their angling hookes to catch this greedy gudgeon: First, M. B. spurring his Gelding as they rode together, got some quarter of a mile of ground before the Gentleman, and his fellow knaue riding after a good pace, and lets fall the right gold Chaine tyed within a Buckram bagge, in the sight of Master A. directly in the high way; who seeing it, starteth a little before the Gentleman, taking it hastily vp, saying, A prize, a prize, in a Buckram bag, a prize: halfe part quoth the Gentleman, not so quoth Master A. I found it, but I am witnesse (quoth the Gentleman) and will haue halfe, or cry it lost in the next Market: During this controver [...]e, they overtooke Master B. who had let fall the Chaine, and being made Umpire betwixt them, gaue judgement, that it should be equally shar'd, whereupon opening the bagge, they found therein, wrapped in a faire paper, a good Chaine of Gold, worth foure score pound: the Northerne Gentleman having it in his hand, made bold to keepe it till they came to Beverley, where at a Gold-smiths shop they tried it, and being toucht thorowly, the Gold-smith profered for it full foure score pounds in ready money: nay, said the Gentleman, if it be so good, I will haue it my selfe, and giue Master A forty pound for his part: Whereupon both being agreed, home they goe to the Gentlemans house, and receiue their money: but now marke the I [...]st, whilest the money was a telling, Master B. cunningly convaies the copper Chaine into the place where the gold Chaine lay vpon the Table, being like to it, put in a Buckram bag and all, that one could not know one from the other: so having received the money, [Page] away goes Master A. and B. well contented for their journey, leaving the Northerne Gentleman nothing but a Copper chaine for his forty pound, who perhaps like a wise man never perceived till the guilt was worne off, and then where should he look my two Gallants? marry, God knows where, vnlesse it were howling at the grate at New-gate, omongst those pittifull creatures. Having told this tale, the Bell began to ring nine a clocke, whereupon the Uintner calling, shut vp the doores, it is late, caused my friend and I to breake company, who paid for our Wine, thanking each other, and so departed, hee to his lodging, and I to mine, where being no sooner laid in my bed, and calling to minde, our passed discourses of the Blacke Dog, and his first beginning, I fell into a most vnquiet slumber, and was all the night long troubled with a most fearefull dreame; for mee thought I was my selfe prisoner in New-gate, lying loden with I [...]on [...] in great misery, where being destitute of friends, money-lesse, and forsaken of all my acquaintance, this following Dialogue is [...]h subiect passed betwixt my selfe and one Z [...], who was like wise a prisoner as I was, and perfectly acquainted with matters touching the discovery of the s [...]arlatiue degree of Cunny-catchers: pithy, pleasant, and profitable for all the Readers hereof.
ZAny, I haue many times been in hand with thee to giue me some notes vpon thy knowledge, as concerning the notable abuses committed by a sort of dissolute fellowes, who are in very deed the worst members in a Common-wealth; I meane infamous Cunny-catching Knaues, who continually seeke the spoile of others to inrich themselues, and now is the time thy helpe will doe me some pleasure: for at the request of a very friend, I was mooved to write something of worth, whereupon I made choise of the Blacke Dogge of Newgate, to be a subiect to write vpon, wherein [Page] I could not choose, divers strong reasons especially mooving thereunto, but in that title shadow the Knavery, Uillany, Robbery, and Cunny-catching committed daily by divers, who in the name of Service and Office, were as it were attendants at Newgate. Againe, I did choose to give my booke that title, as well to satisfie some, who yet thinke there is some spirit about that prison in the likenesse of a black Dog: of which fond imagination to put them out of doubt, I thought good to give them to understand, that indeed there is no such matter. The third reason was, for I being in Newgate a prisoner, and overthrowne by these kind of bad people, with their cunny-catching, in most vile and wicked manner, in so much that whilest I there languished in great extremitie, I did both heare and see many outragious iniuries by them committed on divers sorts of people: the premisses considered. I doe intreat thee to let me have thy helpe to set downe some of their villanies committed in thy knowledge, and I will not be flacke to present this booke, being finished, into their godly hands, who will assuredly give them condigne punishment, as also provide, that the like mischiefs shalbe never any more put in practise by any notable villaines.
Indeed you say well, and I agree: but yet you know I am a poore man, and am a Prisoner. Againe, it is ill m [...]dling with edge tooles. As you comprehend them in the name of a Dog: so if they be angry, they will bite, and play the Devill in their likenesse. They haue parlous heads, store of money, and some good friends: all which I want. Neither will I name any: but if their knaveries were knowne, it would be thought the gallows as fit for these Cūny-catchers, as Newgate is for me, who am rather kept in to bribe them, then to answer any offence I haue committed: yet seeing you haue begun well, I would wish you end no worse: and for my part, tell you one of their knaueries, and Ile tell another: so that ere we haue done, if we tel al, the Cunny-catcher wil think we haue told too much. But by your l [...]aue a word. I wil name no man, for if they should be named, their friends would be angry: and more then that, I rather wish their [Page] amendment than their publike infamy: of which motion if you like, begin when you will, and when you are weary rest you, and I will go on with it: for our matter being all one, no doubt our conclusion will be to the like effect.
Godly, wise, honourable, worshipfull, and gentle Reader, know first, there be an infinite number of this sect and company of cunny-catchers, therefore it were an endlesse peece of worke to name them all: but for I know too many of them, and haue likewise paid for my acquaintance with them, it may be expected I should name some of them, which for the inconvenience might thereby insue, I thought good to craue your patience on that behalfe, assuring you that they are easie enough to be known by their colours: but what wicked parts they haue performed, I will not faile but make manifest. Therfore, first I desire you to imagine, that these fellowes, these Cunny-catchers, I would say, doe promise to the world great matters: as for example. They will vndertake if a man be robd by the way, they will helpe the party offended to his money againe, or to the theeues at the least. Likewise, if a purse be cut, a house broken, a peece of Plate stole, they will promise the like: mary, to further this good peece of service, they must haue a warrant procured from some Iustice at the least, that by the said generall warrant, they may take vp all suspected persons: which being obtained, then mark how notably therwith they play the knaues, how shamefully they abuse the Iustices who granted the warrant, and how notoriously they abuse a great sort of poore men, who neither the warrant mentioneth, nor the party agreeved in any wise thought to mol [...]st or trouble: and for they shadow all their villanies vnder colour of some especiall warrant, let it suffice thee to read the sequell, and then judge of their abuses, as they deserue. Now first will I begin with their petty practises in their lewd actions. Say there is a man or two robb'd by the high way not far from London: the rumor hereof being bruited in the City, these fellowos will be sure to haue intelligence with the first, in what maner the men were robd, how much mony they lost, and where they dwel: the reason is this. [Page] The Cunny-catchers haue alwaies abroad some odd fellows which are inquisitors of purpose, who alwaies what they heare rumord, they presently come and certifie their good master Cunny-catchers, of all whatsoever, how, where, and when this robbery was committed; presently away goes E. H. or N. S or some of that sett; and enquires out the party that was robb'd: with whom it H. or S hap so meet withall, some occasion shall presently be found to intrude themselues into the company of them be robbed: and after some circumstances, the Cunny-catcher begins to tell of a strange robbery committed in such a place, saying it was shamefully done: and withall, they will cast some words a farre off as who should say in effect, if I be not deceived I know the theeues, and it may bee, that if I might speake with him or them that were robb'd, happily I should direct them how they might take the villaines.
All this while the Cunny-catcher taketh no notice of them that were robbed, neither doth the Cunny-catcher make any shew, that they knew any such matter to be done to any in the company.
Now the poore men that were robbed, hearing their smooth speeches, one of them begins very heavily to shape his tale in this, or such like manner. My honest friend, I know too well that such a robbery was done, and in very deed, I was the man was robbed in such a place, and at such a time as you speake off. I beseech you good friend, stand me in what stead you may: and if you can helpe me againe to my money, or to take the Theeues, I will not onely thinke my selfe greatly beholding to you, but I will also please you to your content. I am a [...]ore man, pray you doe me what pleasure you may, good sir, I beseech you. Th [...]se and such like s [...]eeches hee vseth. The Cunnicatcher presently ioyneth issues with him, and with much cunning hee tempereth his talke. To bee short, he offereth all the pleasure he can doe him: but quoth hee, you know I am a stranger unto you, and I know not whether you will use mee well or no: It may bee, when I have done you good, you will lightly reward me. But ile tell [Page] you what Ile doe: Give me but forty shtllings in hand to bear my charges the time I may search them, and if I do not deserve it, I will restore it againe, and loose all my labour: if you like of this motion, so it is: if not, I will not deale in your matter hot nor cold.
When the man that was robbed, heareth him so briefe, yet loth to part company on the sodaine: he in treateth to know the Cunnicatchers name, and where he dwelleth. To this question, another of the Cunnicatchers companions maketh this reply. Honest man, you need not doubt of his good meaning towards you: This is such a one as may doe you pleasure, if he please to undertake it. Then he roundeth the man in the eare, and telleth him his name is E. H. and that he knoweth all the Theeves about London, and that he hath done more good in helping men to their owne, then can be devised to be done by a hundred others, praising him for a wonderfull good member in a Common-wealth: further certifying the party where this E. H. dwelleth, and with an oath whispering, he wisheth him to give him some xx. s. and then agree what he shall give him more, when the Theeves be taken, making many protestations that he need not to misdoubt of E. H. his honest dealing with him in any respect.
Presently the poore man putteth his hand into his pocket and out he puls an Angel: then saith he, M. H. I have heard of you before, and for I have heard nothing but well of you, I am the willinger to deale with you: truly here is an Angel for you, and I will give you a gallon of wine at the Taverne, and if you doe me good in this matter, I will give you xx. s. more: then with some intreaty he desireth them to take it in good part, and so giveth him the money.
The Conny-catcher taketh the money very quaintly, as though he would refuse it, but in the end heele pocket it up, & is willing to goe to the Taverne, where after that drinking a gallon or two of wine, they conclude of the former matter: and E. H. will out of hand get the Theeves into Newgate: & so much he promiseth to performe upon his honest fidelity, [Page] not letting to say, if he doe it not, he dare be hanged for it.
Then the day is appointed, when within a weeke the party robbed shall come to Newgate to know what newes, and for that time they part, the honest man to his home or about his businesse, the Cunnycatchers to some other odde place about their knavery, where they laugh at the Cunny, devising how to get him in for more money, never intending to doe any thing in the matter, which they have undertaken for the honest man, whose angell they drinke merrily.
Now we will leave this man for a while to his businesse of more profit, and I will proceed with the Cunny-catchers for their practizes.
These Cunny-catchers are never idle: and therefore it followeth next to let you understand of a notable peece of service the said H. and S. plaid with a friend of mine.
It happened my friend being some time in question, could not misse but he must needes have acquaintance with these odde shavers: and thus it fell out. My friend being in a Taverne drinking with some of his acquaintance, whilst they were drinking together, in comes H. S. who presently used great courtesie to my friend: but to be short, they tooke full survey of his weapons, his good cloake, and neat apparell, which was enough for them to imagine that my friend had store of money: whereupon they asked if he would give them a Pottle of Wine? which he willingly granted: and so after one Pottle, he gave them another: the reckoning paid, and the company ready to depart, quoth S. to E. H I pr [...]y you hearke in your eare.
Presently he whispereth. Thus it is, my fellow hath a Warrant to take you: therefore in kindnesse I wish you to draw to your purse, and give him an Angel to drinke, and I will undertake he shall not see you at this time.
My friend hearing his tale tend to a cunnicatching effect, he begins to sweare they are cunnicatching Knaves, and they shall not wrong him in any respect.
To be short, the Cunnicatcher sends for a Constable, and charges the party aforesaid with fellony: the Constable [Page] knowing them to be in office (but not to be such bad fellows) he presently apprehendeth the party: which done, the Cunnicatchers seeing the prisoner in safe keeping, dis-furnished of his weapons, they presently require the prisoner of the Constable, and they will be his discharge: which the Constable did, thinking no lesse then they were right honest men.
Now marke what followed. As these two knaves were a bringing this party charged with fellony to Newgate, one of them offereth yet for xx. s. to set him free: of which, when the party had considered, knowing though he were cleare of that he was charged, yet if he lay in prison till the Sessions, it would be greater charges. When he was on Newgate staires ready to goe into the Batle, he was content to leave his Cloake, that money he h [...]d in his purse, and his weapons which were in the Constables hand pa [...]e for the xr. s. which the Cunnycatchers tooke, and discharged the prisoner without any more to doe.
Not long after, the aforesaid Cunnicatchers meet with this their Cunny of xx. s. price, and another who was knowne to be, as they terme him, a good fellow about the towne in his company.
And where meet they, but in a Taverne not farre without Bishops Gate, where these two poore Cunnies had spoken for Supper: amiddest their good cheere, in comes H. and S. bidding them be merry with their fare. One of these two being an odde fellow, and in dread of these Cunnicatchers, knowing them very perfectly, set on the best face hee could, and bad them welcome, intreating them to sit downe, and doe as they did, of which proffer the Cunnicathers accepted willingly, and sate downe with them and eate and drunk merrily: supper being ended, the reckoning was call'd for, the shot paid, and all things discharged, the Cunnies would faine have beene gone.
Nay, quoth N. S. for of the two he was the grimmer Knave and had most skill to talke, I must let you know that which indeed I am sorry to doe. Yet if you will doe your selves good, you may use us well, and we will not use [Page] you amisse, to be short, thus it is, such a man was rob'd within this weeke, and he hath got out a warrant for you two by name. He hath lost ten pounds: now if you will restore the money, and bestow xx. s. on us two to drink for our pains, we will undertake to satisfie the party and be your discharge, if not, we have a warrant, and you must answer it at New-Gate.
This backe reckoning is something sharpe, but there is no remedy, either pay so much money, or else must a Constable be sent for, and so to Newgate as round as a hoope.
To be short, this was the conclusion, the Cunnies paid downe xi. l. every penny, whereof ten pound was to be paid to the man in the moone, for I dare take it upon my death, neither of these Cunnies did offend any such man, in manner as these knaves had charged them.
By your leave a word, all this while you have not concluded what became of the first Cunny these edde shavers meet with; I pray you be briefe, and let us heare how he was ended withall, and then you shall heare me tell you of wonders, if these be held to be but of moment.
Well then to the first Cunny; again at his time appointed, he commeth to the wise man of Newgate to inquire what is done in his matter, and at Newgate the Cunny findeth his adde acquaintance with E. H. who at the first sight hath the time of the day for him, much curtesies, but to the Taverne they must to debate the matter, where they must have a pottle of the best. Whilest the Wine is a filling, the Cunny-catcher sheweth what great paine he hath taken to come to the Theeves, and how hardly they mist of them: but for it is best to use few words, the Cunnycatcher from one day to another, still driveth off the Cunny, who is still in hope that the Cunny-catcher meaneth good faith, whereas indeed he never made account what faith was: so to be short, if the Theeves rob'd hi not some five or sixe pound, he hath got, or if he find where he is, a dry shaving as much as forty or fifty shillings more.
I tell thee Zany me thinkes these are notable villantes, [Page] and pitty they should not be punished, who live by no other meanes but practising such pranks as these be.
Againe this is a generall rule to the Cunnicatcher, that when or where he meets with such a one as hath beene at any time committed to Newgate, if that fellow have good apparrell on his backe, the Cunnicatcher taketh acquaintance of him, and a quart of Wine they must needs drinke, when the reckoning comes to payment, the Cunnicatcher hath brought no money from home that day, so by the others drawing of his purse to pay for the Wine, he knoweth what lyning is in it, then if he have money, the Cunnicatcher is in hand with him for a Bribe, some odde crowne or an Angel to drinke: if the man be in any fault, fearing the worst, he will not stand with him for a trifle: if he be in no fault, perhaps he tels, in faith you are deceived in me, I am not he you take me for, and so parteth and giveth him nothing.
Presently the Cunnicatcher useth all meanes to know where he lies, which when he hath done, within a night or two away goes this knave with soone old warrant to the Constable of that liberty, craving his aid to apprehend a bad fellow who is thought to have done much mischiefe, but for a surety he avoucheth him for an arrand theefe, & that he hath been in Newgate. Upon these speeches the Constable goes with this H. where the poore man lies, and apprehends him and convaies him to Newgate, laying some Iustices commandment on him, where he lies till the Sessions, unlesse he come off roundly with a bribe to the Cunnicatcher: but say the Cunnicatcher be mistaken in this fellowes purse, and that he have not so much as he supposed, yet the Cunnicatcher is so strong of faith, that he will not beleeve the contrary: so by this meanes the poore man lyeth in prison till he be quite a begger, without releasement till the Proclamation at the Sessions, at which time he is not worth the ground he goes on, neither knoweth he, being utterly overthrowne, how to have any remedy: which is pittifull and lamentable.
I muse you should account of these trifling matters, whereas indeed they are nothing in respect of the priz [...] [Page] they have plaid, and if you will give me leave a little, I will come something nearer the Cunnicatcher then you have yet done.
I pray thee doe: yet I must needs tell thee I have bin too neare the Cunnicatcher, and what I have spoken of him, it is not onely with griefe but withsorrow to my heart, and anguish of soule, that these outrages should be committed, to the utter undoing of so many, as within this thirty yeares have beene: for so long did I heare one of these Uillaines vaunt he had beene in office about Newgate: and what I have done or said on this behalfe, with my life and death, I am ready to make proofe of it, that it is true. This minde I beare, that the Devill should have his due of these Knaves, and I hold it my duty to reveale whatsoever is to the good of a Common-wealth: and so I will, though the Cunnicatcher sweare to give me a cut in the leg for my labour, and now Zany I pray thee goe forward.
Gentlemen, though I want eloquence, yet you shall see I have a rowling tongue, deepe knowledge, and am a rare fellow to bewray many matters touching cunnicatching.
Master Greene, God be with thee, for if thou hadst beene alive, knowing what I know, thou wouldst as well have made worke as matter, but for my part, I am a plaine fellow, and what I know, I will not be meale-mouthed, but blab I wist, and out it must: nay, and out it shall, for as the Comedian said, Plenus rymarum sum.
I know twenty and twenty of these fine Cunnicatchers, who learne of the Fencers to double a blow, knowing what belongs to the button and the bob: yet for the Author hath onely used foure Letters for two names, let them stand, and when I name H he must thinke Zany can see whilst there is an eye in his head, H. is aspirationis nota, and no le [...]r indeed, therefore I care not if this Cunnycatching H. were wip'd out of the Letters Row to h [...]ng on the Gallowes, who is fitter to be a Sipher to make up a number at Tyborne, then to be a man of so bad condition. As for a Pottle of Wine he cares not who he hang so he may have it, if it be but the Wine.
Is the first of the second name the Author useth. No Knave I warrant you: and as for S. if he be in some sort a Knave to be proved, he will be contented, nay, he must in spight of his teeth disgest the name of a Cunnicatcher, for by that are y [...] being not worth a groat a yeare, he is able by his fine wit to maintaine himselfe in his Satin Doublet, Uelvet Hose, his Hat lin [...]d with Uelvet, his Silke stocke, his Rapie [...] and Dagger gilt, his golden Brouch, and all things correspondent as might seeme a man both of wit and living. And now I, according to my promise to the Author, will have a cast at these fine Cunnicatchers, and I will not slander them in any wise, but speake the truth unto death. If I say more then I will prove, I will never bid you trust Zany againe.
Not long since at a Tylting upon triumph on the Coronation day: many good Subjects with ioy assembled the place of Triumph, aswell reioycing to see the Queenes most Excellent Maiestie, as also to see the Tylting performed, by sundry Noble and Right Honourable personages.
Amongst the rest, there comes a woman with six pounds in her purse, which the Cutpurse met withall, she, as it seemed, having more minde on the pleasures of the present day and time, then she had of her purse.
The Iusts ended for that day, the woman thinking all had been well, takes her way homewards with a friend of hers, yet by the way, this good woman must needs drinke with her friend a Pint of Wine: but here was the mischiefe, when the Wine was to be paid for, the woman mist her purse, and looking on the strings, with a cold heart she might perceive her purse was cut away.
Her friend to comfort her bad her take no thought, for he knew a man wou [...]d helpe her to her purse again, and saith he, we will presently go to him, for I know where he dwels.
The woman thanked her friend for his courteous offer, and away they goe to E. H his house, where they found him, to whom they brake the matter wholly how it was, desiring his helpe. Presently he had them in the wind, and bad [Page] them welcome, promising that if they would content him for his paines he would doe her good, asking her what she will willingly bestow to have her money againe. At the first word she offered him forty shillings. All this was well, and they agreed to meet next day about White Hall, where they shall have answer to their content: and so after they had drunke a quart of Wine at the Taverne, for that might they parted. The next day, according to promise they met, and this E. H. had in his company a man, who he said was a Constable, but whether he said truely or no, I will not say, but to the matter: They appoint the woman to go to a friends house hard by, and she should heare more anone. Away went she, as they had appointed her, and away go they to looke for Cutpurses.
I warrant you they sought not long, but there they met with a Cutpurse, whom they take by the sleeve: and there they meet with another as good a Cutpurse as the former, and so they take at the least a dozen Cutpurses: which when they have done, the Cunnicatcher begins to raile mightily, swearing they shall some of them be hanged: but to prison they shall all goe, unlesse this money be had againe, she wing a Warrant, or a peece of Paper at the least: which is sufficient to beare the Cunnicatcher harmelesse, as he saith.
Now the Cutpurses, though they be all cleare of this matter, yet they begin to quake for feare, offering rather then they will goe to prison, they will make up the money, so that E. H. will promise to give it them againe when the Cutpurse shall be knowne, who cut the Purse indeed. This motion the Cunnicatcher liketh indifferently: and so of these dozen of Cutpurses, he taketh of some more, and of some lesse, that the summe is largely made up: which done, they are all discharged, marry they must have some twenty shillings overplus for their paines and kindnesse shewed to the Cutpurses, all which is granted.
To be short, no Cutpurse scap'd their hands, but he paid a share, so that there was gathered the first day at the least ten pounds amongst Cutpurses, and the next day this E. H. [Page] met with the Cutpurse, who cut the purse indeed, of whom he tooke the money, with the vantage, and let him goe, without answering the matter: and to conclude, the woman had foure pound of her money againe, and so the matter was no more spoken of.
I thinke this was a peece of knavery, if you talke of knavery, and yet this is no knavery in respect of that I wil shew you in this next discovery of their Cunny-catching.
At the Tearme time, these fellowes H. and S. haue had great booties by their practises in this Art, and this is their manner.
In the morning away they go to Westminster hall, where they know the Cutpurse will be about his businesse, but the Cunny catchers are not without a couple, who are their consorts: who as soone as they come to the Hall, thrust in amongst the thickest, and there they listen to heare if any purse were cut that day.
Likewise, the Cunny-catchers, they take their standings one of them at the water side, the other in some close place, at another Gate: so that lightly a Cutpurse cannot come out of the Hall, but one of them shall spie him, and take him by the sleeue, if the Cutpurse haue done any thing, word is presently brought to the Taverne, whither the Cunny and the Cunny-catcher are gone to drinke. Now if it be some small summe, the Cunny-catcher sheweth the Cunny a good countenance; but if it be a large summe, as sixe pounds, or vpwards, the Cunny-catcher dissembling his intent, will not stay but the drinking of a pottle of Wine.
The Cutpurse intreats their company, and offereth both Wine and a breakefast, but all is in vaine, the Cunny-catcher will not tarry, swearing a great oath, he is sorry that it was his chance to see this Cunny or Cut-purse this day, for there is a mischiefe done, and he f [...]res some will smoake for it. At this the Cutpurse is af [...]ard, but he for that time scapeth their fingers, for the Cunny-catcher will t [...]rry no longer.
Now the Cunny-catcher sendeth presently one of his [Page] company to seeke out the party who had his purse cut, which he performeth with diligence, and meeting with him, hee tells the party, that he heard he lost his purse at Westminster, and if he will be advised by him, he will helpe him to the most of his Money againe.
This honest man glad to haue part againe of his money, offereth at first word, the one halfe to have the other, assuring this odd fellow for certainty, that he lost ten pounds.
Well (saith this Factor for the Cunny-catcher) if your leasure wil serue to go with me, I wil bring you to one doth partly know who cut your purse, therefore it is your way to follow his counsaile, and I warrant you, my life for it, but you shall haue your desire.
Hereat the honest man is glad, and willingly goeth along with him to a place where he knoweth E. H abideth his comming: Now being met, the Wiseman of Newgate begins at the first dash, to tell them whereabout they come, even in as ample manner, as if the man who had his purse cut, had told the tale himselfe.
No marvell though the Countrey man doe wonder a while at the matter, but in the ende, he telleth him it is so indeede, and according to the first motion they agree, which is the one halfe for the other: the Countrey man willing to referre the matter wholly to this Cunny-catchers discretion.
Then away goes the Countrey man with H. the Cunnycatcher, to a Iustice, to whom he signifieth in every respect, how his purse was cut, desiring of the Iustice a Warrant to take vp all suspected persons: of which motion the Iustice intending to doe Iustice, grants his Warrant, and giues it to H. willing him to certifie him what shall bee done on that behalfe, as the Warrant intendeth.
This Warrant obtained, the Cunny-catcher is as pleasant as a Pye, taking his leaue of the Iustice, away goes the Countrey man, and his good friends with him, and to the Taverne straight, where they spend some time in drinking a pottle of the best wine, which the Countrey man must pay for: which done, H. taketh his leaue of his Client, promising [Page] him not to be slacke in his businesse; which done they part, the Countrey man to his lodging, or as his occasion serveth, and the Cunny-catcher about his faculty.
Now woe to the Cutpurses, for as H. happeneth to meet with them, they must to Newgate, shewing warrant sufficient for a greater matter.
But you must take notice, that of a dozen or sixteene Cutpurses who he hath apprehended, he is sure enough that hee which cut the purse indeed shall be none of them.
This honest company of Cutpurses being all in Newgate H. goes presently and certifies the Iustice, what a sort of notable Theeues he hath taken, desiring the Iustice to send for them at his pleasure, to examine them about the Countrey mans purse, assuring the Iustice that they are cunning Theeues, and that he dare lay his life, they will confesse nothing: which indeed the Iustice findeth true: for they being axamined, will confesse as much as nere a whit.
To Newgate away they goe againe, where they make all meanes to H. to stand their friend, shewing their innocencie: yet rather then they will lye in prison, one offereth ten shillings, another twenty shillings, some more, some lesse, as they are of ability: offering farther, to giue besides the summe, every one something to H for his good word to the Iustice, that they may be set at liberty.
Now the Cunny-catcher hath the matter as he would wish it, and taking their money first, he presently goes to the Iustice, and certifieth him, that these which he hath apprehended, did none of them cut the purse: and for he hath gotten knowledge who did, he desireth that they may be bayled.
The Iustice glad to heare the truth is knowne, is willing to set them at libertie, which vpon their Baile he granteth, Of this money the Countrey man hath never a penny, and all these Cutpurses are set at liberty.
Which done, H seeketh diligently for the Cutpurse, who did the matter indeed: with whom when he meeteth, he spareth not to tell him how sore the Iustice is against him, and how earnestly the Countrey man will pursue the Law: and [Page] further he sweareth, that some of them who were in Newgate told the Iustice plainely, that he cut the purse.
This peale rings nothing well in the Cutpurses eares, who can find no favour, but to Newgate: yet vpon intreaty made by the Cutpurse, the Cunny-catcher promiseth, that for his part he will doe him any good he can, wishing the Cutpurse, as he is wise enough, so it were good for him to hold his owne, and confesse nothing so the Iustice, what proofe so ever come against him, and in so doing, it may lye in his power to doe him good: telling him further, that the man who lost the money, though he be sore bent against him, yet he will partly be ruled by him.
Well to Newgate marcheth this H. with his Cutpurse: where he to welcome him for his faire words, hee clappeth on his legges a good paire of Boults and Shakles: which done, he sendeth for the Countrey man, and telleth him of these good tydings, how the Theefe is taken, and how he hath vsed him.
The next way they take, is to the Iustice, to whom H. signifieth how the case standeth, railing mightily against the Cutpurse, even in the worst manner he can devise: saying, it will be evidently proved that he cut the purse, & none but he: further he requesteth that the Cutpurse may bee examined. The Cutpurse is sent for, who to every question the Iustice can demand, having taken out his lesson (confesse and bee hang'd) hath his answer ready, so that there can be no advantage taken by his examination.
The Iustice returneth him to Newgate againe, to abide till the next Sessions, requiring the party to bee bound to giue evidence against him: but the countrey man dwelling farre from London, and it being long to the next Law-day, alledgeth, he cannot be in the Citie at that time, for he is a poore man, and hath great occasion of businesse, so that he cannot be there to giue evidence, neither can he say if he would, any thing against that party: for so farre as he can remember, he never saw that fellow before in his life.
Yet H. promiseth, that it will be proved against the Cutpurse: [Page] so the Countrey man and H. take their leaues of the Iustice, making shew as though they would come againe, though it be no part of H. his meaning.
H. goeth straight to Newgate, where he fals in hand with the Cutpurse, swearing vnto him by his honesty, that hee hath laboured [...]he party who had his purse cut, to take his money again, and not to give evidence against him, assuring him with many oathes, that if he m [...]y haue his money againe, he will presently go out of the towne. The Cutpurse taking H. his hand, that no man shal giue Evidence against him at the Sessions, doth presently send abroad to his friends for the money: which as soone as it commeth, he deliver [...]th to H. and withall a large overplus, because he will bee sure of H. his favour.
This done H. goes to the Countrey man, and fels him, he got no more but six or seven pounds, of which if he will accept, and proceed no further against the party, he hath it to pay him: marry he will not be knowne to the Countrey man, but that he had that money of some friends of the cutpurses, who vpon the former condition, is willing it should be paid, if not to haue his money againe.
The countrey man having haste out of the City, is glad to take it: out of which summe, if it be seven pounds, H. must haue halfe: so that the poore man of ten pounds, hath but three pounds ten shillings, whereas the Cunny-catcher by this account hath got at one hand and an other, very neere forty Markes: the money shard [...], the Countrey man takes Horse, and away he rides: Againe H. his mouth is stopt, and the next Sessions the Cutpurse is quit by Proclamation, no man being there to giue evidence against him.
O wonderfull peece of villany. I will trouble thee no further, thou hast told enough, and I will tell no more: who heares but this which is already spoken, will hold these knaues for execr [...]ble U [...]rlets. So for this time I will commend thee to thy other businesse, wishing thy liberty as I doe mine owne: and if thou haue occasion, command me to doe thee good, if it lye in my power.
Sir, I thanke you for your courteous offer: but yet I must tel you, I could tell twenty such prancks as these are, which these Cunny-catching fellowes haue played: but indeed they keepe one order almost, in performing them all: but since you think here is inough, I will say no more, and so fare you well.
Thus haue you heard, gentle Reader, how at large this Blacke Dogge is desciphered: which Dogge as he is, is worthy of your generall hate: but for I haue with paines concluded my Booke vnder that title, I will not request you according to the old Proverbe, Loue me, Loue my Hound: but onely, loue me, and hang my Dogge, for he is not worthy so good a name as a Hound.