CHAP. II. An absolute Defiance of all those that follow my former lewd Courses.

NOW you lycentious Rebels that would be deem­ed Knights of the Road, I detest your actions, for which I have shewed my reason before, I begin my dis­covery, then since your deceite must be divulged, pluck [Page 4]of your false Beards, Vizards, Hoods, Pacches, Wens, Mufflers, and false Perriwigs, all unnaturall, to­gether with those other disguises, that obscure the due proportion of your faces, that I may make known un­to the world and let them see, whether you possess so much grace as may make you blush at the repetition, of the vileness of your ways, the w ^ch I fear you want, w ^ch conjecture ariseth by the experience of my own former hardnesse of heart when it was my own case; which in ordinate gracelessnesse I so much commiserate in my mind, that I could with joy deposite my blood to exte­nuate your transgression & that they might be no more; but sound reason tells me I may be far more advan­tagious in serving of my native nation if I live, by shew­ing them your basenesse and instructing them how to a­void the danger of the same, that so Travellers may be secure and such as have an inclining fancy to your practice may by the unworthinesse of the art be dis­swaded from a closure with your wickednesse, who ever therefore casts an affectionate eye upon this high-way basenesse as a course belonging to a Gentleman, shews himselfe to be ignoble, and is certainly blind, it being clearely speculative to every discerning eye as not only base in it selfe, but infamous in its end, which ought to be regarded in every undertaking. It is in part admit­ted, that a Gentleman by birth and education destituted of means and action too, may by the haughtinesse of his spirit be lifted up to disdain, want as a Tyrant, that may through its oppression make him rebell, & so cause him to attempt this art though void of honour, when no nobler an imployment presents him with a maint'nance, but now when imployments in the sports of Mars his [Page 5]fiery blowes affords both maintenance and honour in the excercise of armes, against our nations foes, 'tis a [...]ore becomming them though stained in their reputa­tions, to indeavor their by the dends of martiall power to snatch the wreath of honour out of victorys hands in the feild of proud Belona, then in disgrace and infamy to besot their spirits in the armes of wanton Ʋenus at home, though I am duopoly sensible that the major part of the professors of this mistery & villany, are so fre­quently apt to glory in that which truly is their shame, supposing themselves to be the best of men who are the worst of villains, because they are stiled Captains & Leivtenants by the drawers of the Inns when its likely they are but lately rose from that doglike life of lackyes like the fool that is proud of his own wit, because an­other in dirision Ironically saies he is wondrous wise.

CHAP. III. The Oath every young Theife takes when he is admitted into the brother-hood, with other the Orders at the investation of him with that honour of one of the Knights of the Road.

MOst disconsolate is the state of that man, that be­leives not that their is a God, but for more wre­ched is his condition that knowing and believing there is a diety, shall un-God in his minde & to himselfe the Trinity, by worshiping the Divel, and mens actions [Page 6]best speakeing their hearts, we may conclude of those that they are all diabolichall, all having erred, & there is none righteous no not one, for searing that their a­ctions were not sinfull enough to conjoyne a onenesse between them and the Diver, this is their practice at their first admittance they confer an Oath of such soul stusse, as if with more then a threefould cord, which is not easily broken, they would old themselves [...] by their perjury, like him, that sweares to be true to falshood (which implyes an impossibility) by reading a charge of secrecy that what ever misfortune happens to cloud their freedom by rendering them as a object to Justice and the Law, they shall conceal their com­plices to the death, or against any other jeopardy what so ever, burying in oblivion not onely his confederates, but also the manner of his enterance into that accursed way, and further they proceed to swear him, that if the Judge should further presse you on to a discovery of particulars, then you must cunningly creare some men in your fancy, devising not onely names but to each man a particular feature, as such a beard, such a hose, such eyes [...] [...]ing­ly finding, to each a dwelling and possession; provided you be fure to place them at a distance far enough, and then before inquiry be made, the danger of your triall will be past, and [...] may be your pretended discovery may purchase favour from the bench for discovering of such a one as was never thought on before; now [...]f you are examined why and now you fell into these courses; you must tell them that you came up to London, or some other eminent place, with an intent to go to ser­vice, but before you could provide your selfe, you had [Page 7]spent all your money, here setching a great sigh, look­ing very, sad confessing that necessity constraining you to it to supply your wants, you sell into these wicked courses, which will make them think you are a poor young man newly drawn aside, and so cause them to take pity of your condition; then must you promise never to commit the like offence: but if their mercy extend to the remission of your guilt, it shall not onely wrest you from the due punishments of the Law, but from the prosecution of your past evills, that so as you escape the one, you will also forsake the other, this is the onely way being in jeopardy to acquit you from those afflictions incident to the like offences by the justice of an imparciall Law, & by these means you wil not only qualify the guilt of it, but have liberty to fall to your old courles, nor must conscience trouble you, but dis­pence with every impiety, and glory in the greatest in­iquities; thus in all kind of goodnesse they are slack, but apt and readily prone to do evil with a kind of eagerness and delight, having resolved to grow old in the most ex­quisite practice of vice.

CHAP. IV. The order prescribed, or the charge gi­ven by the eldest Thiefe; to the resh before they attempt.

AS every proceeding hath its aime and end, so hath then undertakings its aime to do evil, to rob and steal, & to spone the innocent, its end to conviction and [Page 8]punishment and these to extreames also, its meane de­grees of carriage for being admitted, & that admittance graced or rather [...]nsatiated in villany, they receive those precepts that may advantage their designed wickedness; for Satan having led them by the hand unto that place which experience concludes as most commodious for their purpose, they retire and lie in wait in some by­place most advantagious and least suspitious, which yeilds the eie the prospect of the road, to strictly view the booties, that others misfortunes may enrich their's, and the honest mans losse be their gain, and then the oldest Theif as they repaire to their stations pleads the precepts of his experience, and as an arch Ingen of the Divel, drawes every advantage that may promote his cause to the longest extent in this due order follow­ing, yee that are sworn Knights of the road be ruled by me, whose long experience makes me able to com­mand, and my love to you willing to instruct you, thus must you place your maskes and chin cloath & fit it at a moment to disguise your faces, thereby to blind the intellects of such as by constraint pay tribute to your wants, who then can know & with considerat heed directly swear you are the men, when these artificiall vizards, are withdrawn, & so the visible tokens vanish that might informe mens knowledge what you are, and that your words may have a different sound, after the ut­terance of your speech by [...] in your mou­thes, that so as your habit, face & hair obscure your dis­covery, your speach reputed undisguisable, may darken and not give light to your discovery, & then ingenious­ly contrive a warch word to your selves that may occasi­on no suspicion, as whats a Clock, a question common [Page 9]in almost every mouth, which being named, let every man fall to his proper work, those that are strongest at the grasp, let them seise first, always duly observing this, to catch the bridle with your left hand, and with the right, seise on your sword, for your just guard, and if they do resist, the one prevents their slight, the other cuts his courage, the weaker sort whose charge is to bid stand, and so confront the Horses head, present them with a pistoll fit for to discharge, if they deny deliver­ing of their purse, so that either by consent, if not con­straint, inforce them to yeild.

CHAP. V. The manner of their assault, with their Courage in and after the Action.

THus being in redinesse, let one cry arme, arme my Comrades. Whilst he is talking thus, a prize comes by or in their sight, if up the Hill they meet him, if down, they bid you follow close at their heeles, where each having singled out his choice, which he likes to deale with, the coast being cleare, they fall up to their close order, and side by side they joyntly seise their prize, where sometims the basenesse of some spirits, make them unworthy of what they are, men; for when nature hath bestowed the full proportion of their limbs, to make them of the largest manly size, yet so base is their spirts, so different are the qualities of men, that no soonerthe word deliver is let loose, but they are supprised so with fear, that like babes, they cry and tremble before there is any weapon drawn to af­fright them, and of times their purses are as poor as their courages, which makes theeves resolute and despe­rate [Page 10]to the like attempts again, when occasion offers a tryall, but then on the contrary, to their praise, I speak it, that some in comparison to those baller men, are pignies, yet of so undaunted resolution and unresistible courage, that neither threats of death or torture can dull the edges of their couragious spirits, but that be­fore they'l yeild to men, they'l stoop to death; but when power and might subdues them to the Rob bers basest will, then they with-draw unto a secret place, and search the secret parts where money use to lye, with so strict care, that sooner may they quoine, then save one peny for their need, where if they find some gold by chanes, quilted for more security, they call them Vil­laines, and dishonest men, because they seek to save what is their own, which they call cousonage, at which the poor Traveller cryes he is utterly undone, because he loses then his whole estate, and by his meanes, in­deavours to move their stony hearts, but it is impossible to mollify those Flints with teares, or move those Adi­mants with sighs or groanes, whose consciences sleep fast in villany, never moved at a poor mans losse or straits, but prompt for the desire of unlawfull gain, to act the parts of fiends not, men; nor doth your baseness centur in those wrongs, but higher swell, oft-times ex­changing horses with a jest, that it's no robbery, despe­rately ingaging them thus rob'd, to sweare they shall not follow you by hew and cry, or by means of a gene­ral rising of the towns adjacent; and so robbed, tifled, and amazed you leave them wrapt in woes, and haste away to secure your selves where every Crow that flies, ex­stracts a fear, and every Calfe or Coult that stirs or makes the bushes rush, seems to your fearfull fansie, a Constable to apprehend you for your theft, which sets your wits upon the tenters of the most severest ex­igents, I speak not at a giusse, but what I know, for [Page 11]lately when a Robbery was done, a strong confusion rose by so small means, as cannot but engage the serious to admire the timerity of their dejected mindes, for an Owle who to gaine shelter from the troubles of the uncouth days, when all the ayery tribe wandering, flock to him, screen'd now in the obscure retired residence of a hollow tree, no sooner was he got into his den, but be­tween discontent and joy, he seemd to rend his hollow residence with fatall whoops, and much amazing screeks which infused such a terror in their distrustfull minds, that whips, switches and spurs were set on furious ex­ercise to out-speed the wind in their quick flight, for fear those hollows were voices of the Countrey men, following them in their great hasty speed to save them­selves, thus doth a continuall fear attend their motion; Insomuch that they fear very shadow of themselves, till some by Inn, afford; a shelter to your basenesse, where you fall to a division of your spoyles, but here you ap­pear in your colours, by acting a cheat to your Rob­bery, and play the double Thieves, first rob honest men, and chen your selves, with bloody oaths cheating your bosome friends, reserving the best part unto your selves, from those you date abuse, and to defend your justnesse, dam your selves to the lawest region of the worst of places: thus have I often found your perjury; sad it is to do wickedly, but most desperate to load on sin, with the weight of another.

CHAP. VI. The unblessedness of their gaines, and how soon they spend what they thus unlawfully get.

THat which is founded on an unjust and unsound, principall, can have no good or substanciall being or continuance, and that which is purchised by fraud [Page 12]and deceit is wasted as likely with a blast, as it was got­ten unjustly with abuses, so that it marers not whether it be little or much that is goten, since the quality de­stroyes the quantity being purchased with sin and some­times that sin died with blood, and as saith the proverb, il-goten goods never prospers, nor can they ever thrive who like rowling stones, are alwaies moving from place to place, but as the divel was your frined in enterpris­ing your wretched act, so are you his vessels in spend­ing in adoration of him what you have gained, so that to have much is to as little purpose, as for a man to thatch his dwelling house with snow which the beames of Phabus, dissolves in drops, for Inns and Taverns, those common sincks of sin, that know our wicked waies in larg our biles to sink our coin in their unbosomed pouches, who knowing our wicked waies presume we dare not cavile, least all prove ill for us, so that if right considercd we rob for them not for our selves, and as with sin we purchased what we had, so they with cousen­age rob us, leaving remedilesse our wrongs that live by fraud, to make them swim in wealth, so thrifty is their way that on the ruins of the country they do subsist, wch makes them rich in plenty, as we penurious through our want of coin spent in excesse; for some I know who had a trible part of all we gained, as being Master of us all, and yet his gaines oftimes came short to countervaile his for'st expence and prodigality, yet was he wary if I truly veiw him in his station, lest too much vapouring should occasion suspition, whence I conclude that want of a blessing on our continuall [...] trade, which is accursed, made all to vanish as if it had never been, he only suffering us to rain till we were fit for the scourge of his wrath, who spares long to see if grace will work its proper end, conversion: as ever blessed be his name it hath on me, but if in stead of contrition, there appeare [Page 13]nesse of heart, then God, lets loose Justice to execute due vengence on the actors of such hellish deeds: First apprehension, next imprisonment, then conuiction then last of all, to conclude the tragicall enterlude of your exorbitances, comes the period of your life by a sham­full death which the law extracts as a due debt we owe to Justice.

CHAP. I. The misery of an imprisoned estate, which must be the first step of satisfying the Law.

LIberty, that rich inheritance of all that are born to live, and live to dye, as it is the sweetest of injoy­ment next that imperiall gem of health, so the want thereof, next to sicknesse, must needs be of all other the most bitter, since then to be confined unto the confines of a Jaile is to be in part unmand what and how great is that wretchednesse that is occasioned by a want not onely of liberty, but a continuall dread of a shamefull death, and that made more terrible by the un­avoidable expectation of an eternall imprisonment, where there is weeping, and wailing, and gnashing, of Teeth with flames of unquenchable fire for ever more; for like the pitcher that though it go often to the wel, yet comes it broken home at last, othen forsake this lise, lest the prison become your Inn, and the terrour of that place ful of tortures are so exsasperated by the im­agination of a noble mind, that hell it self cannot con­tain more exquisite woes & pains, a continuance wher­of weare sufficient to punish all offences, if the law dis­penced with that debt due to Justice the life of the offenders: for you no sooner enter here but a thousand [Page 14]vices in a hundred licentious wretched soules surround you, where sighing is their ayr, their comfort coldnesse, and their food dispair, & when the keeper with the grim aspect of his stern cuntenance makes you tremble with the fear of a new marterdom, whilst the insulting rascal on the tiptoes of his prid, screws his il-favored face to a stern frown, which so dejects the spirit of the impris­oned slaves, that the contrition of their looks seemes to implore his smiles whose divilish heart having renounc­ed remorse casts a desiance in their pitious face, and not there unquiet hours onely do tast the gall of bitter­ness but the sweet minuts of their rest, if that rude place afford them any, are frighted with your cares or some rude noise of beastly creatures from whose drunken voices comes unwelcome sounds, oaths, cursing the Stars, the Earth, and all thats represented to his thoughts blaspheming God, banning Angels, and their creditors, reviling fate, in that he is heire only to fortuns frowns, and to be sure, if onely a sinal spark of wickedness came with him to this worldly hel, you accomplish the high­est exigent of shame before you come to shake hands and part, and grow a subtile Artist in the Divels Trade of sin. Most in consistant then is the found practice of the vulgar sort who say, a prison will reclaim the faults of youth, when tis most true they do precipitate their ut­ter over throw, for ill exsamples purge not sin, but adul­trate the will that is pron to foly, so that the pris­oners living deaths are feeling moniments of wretched­nesse, and yet are only prologues to those tragedies, your over throws record in characters of blood this will instruct you what it is to dy not unto nature, but far worse to a perpetuall infamy.

CHAP. II. By shewing them how much they are mi­staken in other Mens opinions of them.

MEN may be witty yet not wise, subtile yet not discreet, as it fareth with most of you, who think, though vainly, that by attempting deeds ignoble will purchase you esteem, renown, and honour in the popular, vulgar eye, as if to act base villany were the way to be admired, not scorned, as though the actions you have done, are such as have contracted amity with honour, and so engaged Men in Authority to protect your lives, that in despite of Law you must survive; so from the Jayle unto the gallows, in a presumptuous safety you are sent carelesse of danger, where justice tels you your conceits are vain, as are your lives, ex­pences and ungodly trade, for men whose judgments stear by piety, justly condem your sin, and pitty you for charity, not your desert, and since my sincere inde­vour hath thus discovered you and your disguise, besure they I know your tricks to well to be entrapped by you, since your fained worths are obvious cheats, and faint prorectors of your wickedness, seace, and give over those acts of fiends not men, which makes you as much the effigies of Sathan, as God created you the Image of Himself.

CHAP. III. By putting them in mind of their wicked and cursed ends, (which they fondly and foolish: ly jest at, as also their reward in the world to come.

GOD concludes him cursed, and man most mise­rably wretched that hangs upon a Tree, which besides the shame that attends you and your posterity, the death it self might with the cursedness of it, disswade you to put a period to the practise of that great wicked­nesse, in which consists the violation of a command, and so a breaking of the whole Law, neither dyes not your shame with your body, but your Family though never so Noble, suffers a wrent in their honour, by par­tiscipating of the Infamy you suffer, which for some ages rest dyed with scandall, although never so much in­nocent of the crime, & yet those senslesse Catiffes who inherit this death by their transgressions, laugh at this heavy curse, as at a sport, and call it pleasure to be pluck to heaven in a string, and thus by the power of Sathan are they prompt onwards to laugh at their own ruine, whilst what affrights others with an apprehen­tion of horror, doth rather move them with a kind of pleasing joy to delight themselves, who think the more they become conformable to the Divel, the nearet they approached happines, but the same weakness that leads you on in confidence to those so groundless hopes, may prompt you one step farther to presume, as I found mercy, so may you from God and men, I wish to you the glorious grace I found, but pray consider a parti­cular, cannot Compose a general, one Swallow makes no summer, & know that if mercy did extend to wave heavens and earths wrath from me, yet grace twice offended, tribles the vengeance of a severe just Judg, and for your sufferings here by death, that's but a rast of those highly birrer and ever lasting sorrows that are re­served in store, for such as defile their lives with so great sinne, as makes heaven execute the heat of wrath [Page 17]wrath, as the due merit of your hainous sin; which to pre­vent, thereis onely one mesnes left, and that's contrition; if there remain yet any sparks or likelihood of grace, though but so much as may occasion one good thought: and if that unto sin you have not made a lasting league of servitude, behold your fact with a relenting eie of pity: thereby to purchase ease and comfort to your sad disparing souls: then happie men, not that you have been base, but that from sin you have retired the sanctity. Times never past to mend, better late then never; for he that delights to persevere in sin, not being able ro appeal to Christ, and to his merits, but with a willing greedinesse laies hold on his damnation. And if no sence of things secular can con­vict those hardned hearts, if not a temporal, yet an eternal death must needs move sence of danger; the one is but breath, the other endlesse everlasting pain, which ere it be ended is still renewed in burning lakes of brimstone that never die, but burn with cruel tortures for each hainous sin; where howls and hollow grones adds to the eternal weight of misery; when frosts, fires, drownings, sulphur, and other the worst of punishment attend their wretched soules: this is the sad period of your waies, which if it work not it's desired end, plecease to labour to perswade you more. But on the contrary, if I cannot convert you, I could willingly convict you: and here I could name both you, and your abode, but that you have no constant residence, but for a night in some by-road, and so away, either into the West, or North, or sometimes into the South: And as your dwellings you change, so do you every day your names; so that in shape, in being, place and name, you change with every day, like the mutable Camelcon, but never into white Innocency: And thus to inform, were [Page 18]but to put in doubt the Inquisitive, and not at all in lighten to your due apprehension.

CHAP. IV. An Ingenuous discovery of them to each discerning eye, by infallible tokens how to know them on the Road, and if robbed, how surely to track them.

THe uncertainty of your attire, and various disguises, with your non-residence, and changable names, makes me uncapable to do what I would; therefore I wil do what I can, and in every lineament so pourtract you and your carriages to every man that scriously shal peruse this Trea­tise, that with ease, not difficulty, he may know you as you ride, and by that meanes inable him to provide for his own security; or if by you robb'd, let him but observe my di­rections, and he need not question to apprehend you, when your sences of danger is past, and you in your thoughts secure. You shall have it may be two or three of them overtake you, & pretend if they fear'd your strength, that they were lately affronted in the Wood by eight or ten stout fellows; but they beat the rogues, and made them Hie to save themselves, and seal this with strong oathes, and by your answer sound your spirits whether valiant or no; which if they find apt to be danted; then they wait an op­portunity to act their roguery on you; and it may be som­times they boast in drink, what they have done to others, as now to you; and as a reward for what unwillingly you lend to them, they'l pretend to give you a word that shall protect you from the like affront again far better then your sword; as, Round-de-la-vera-hay, The Moon shines bright, or the like; but these are chears, and no securing powers: [Page 19]It's true, when we were ready to seiz a prize, & spi'd a friend, or other company coming near, we used some such words, to bid our company forbear a while for our own safeties sake, which honest Travelers ignorant of any wrong suspect­ed nothing, whilst we by these knew what we had to do, but else those words we valued not, for prize and nothing else could satisfie our mindes that fought for money; therefore never believe them; but observe dear Country-men my better rules for your security, which for your sakes I'le take the honest pains to write in plain-wise, not deceitfully.

CHAP. I. What he is to take heed unto before he begin his Jonrney.

DEar Countrie-men that travel on the Road, the past­part of my wicked life having been consumed in sin, and that sin maintained by the spoile of Passengers; I seeing the wretchedness of that state, find how much I am bound to satisfie the debt I owe you, to the uttermost of my power, which reaches to no more satissactory an act, then good advise how to avoid the dangers of the road, and what I spake herein is the issue of my long finful experience; as thus, when you carrie a charge about you, let secresie con­ceal your money, and the time of your departure in your breast; for 'tis a cuftome no lesse common then indiscreet, when you undertake a journey, to blase that undertaking amongst your reputed friends, who out of seeming love, [Page 21]drink healths to your good Journey, and your safe return; this glasse of friendlhip exprates the least mistrust of wrong or thought of Ill, when by those means I have often known a Son betray his Father, a Brother his Brother, & one friend another; in condescending and complotting with some thievs who for his giving notice of the prize, shares one quarter, or more, of that gain he so betrays, when but for this fond humour they had not been discovered and way­laien; and which is worst; sometimes you chuse a guard to succor you, and to take your part, in whom you trust, who ost doth bring you into danger, without the least suspition on your part; for when they bid you stand, hee'l draw as in a valiant rage, and with some one appointed for that use, hack swords, while anothyer threarens his leath; if he stand on those tearms of seeming honour: you seeing his salse danger fear his death, & bid him yield, which he though wil­ling seems loth to do: nay more, he knowing wel which way they fled, will send the Hue and cry another way; and if you suppose you know any of them that did the robbery, and do hit right, he perswades you, that whilest they sought his disguise fell off, and therefore he markt him, and knows 'tis not the man, and with pensive look he will lament your bad hap: and thus your bosome friend betraies you.

CHAP. II. How to carry themselves in their Inns.

IT is as common a custom, as a cunning policy in thievs, to place Chamberlains in such great Inns where Cloathiers and Grasiers use to lye; and by their large bribes to infect others, who were not of their own preferring; who noting your purses when you draw them, they'l gripe your cloak­bags, [Page 20]and feel the weight, and so inform the Master thievs of what they think, and not those alone, but the Host him­self is oft as base as they, if it be left in charge with them all night; he to his roaring guests, either gives item, or shews the purse it self, who spend liberally, in hope of a speedie re­cruit: and all this is occasioned by want of discretion in ma­naging your business for the best; therefore be secret, and let little be made known to those that watch to do you wrong.

CHAP. III. Shewing the da [...]ger of travelling on the Sabbath day.

HE that expects a blessing from the Father of blessings above, must so behave himself in the eyes of Heaven, whilst on earth, that he must live here, as if he were there already; and the only way so to do, is to stear our actions by Gods command, which saith, Keep holy my Sabbath-day, in which wee ought to remember Gods rest from labour, and rest our selves from sin; for when wee come short of this, Gods love and protection goes so far beyond us, that wee can feel no joy in that dark night which is out of his presence; which made Moses say, Except thou O God. go along with us, let us not go hence: thence it is, that few which Travell on this day, escape the hands of thievs; for they know none ride at that time, but on great and urgent busi­ness and that can scarse be don without great store of Coin; so that if they once are seen, they sure are robb'd imediately: and though the Countrie are in joyned to paie what you; shall lose by daie, yet not on this; because it is a daie of rest [...] and as you are remediless being robb'd, so helpless before, for there is no Companie to aid the honest Traveller as at other times.

CHAP VI. How to know a Thief from an gonest man.

BEe sure on the Road to associate with none but such as you find inclin'd rather to leave your company, then keep it; for such as press to be near you, though against your will, are very dangerous: But I'le presently inform you how to know if they be thievs or not. Take occasion to make some staie, then note whether they staie, or keep their pace, or else alight and go on foot that you may over­take them; follow some halfe an hour after a slow pace, and if you overtake them, take heed, for that's the surest sym­ptome of a Thief: The other usuall marks of Thieves bee these, which as you ride you may discern so plain, that you need not doubt the truth of what you think. They muffle their faces with their cloaks, or else their cloak or coat hides all their clothes; they have a hand-kercher or scarfe, which with their hand they'l rear up to their eies, over their faces just when they bid you stand. And if by occasion of my dis­coverie they leav off this, that you may misse your observa­your eie full in their face, and you shall see them turn their faces on one side; which if they do, then keep you distance, ride from them, and marke whether their face and beards agree together, & are not counterfeit: and above all things shun him that rides in a Mountier-Cap; and such as whis­pers oft, and are inquisitive after your businesse; or what your imployments are, for 'tis to know what you have a­bout you.

CHAP. V. Shewing how dangerous it is to grow familiar with any stranger upon the Way.

WHen you take your Journie whither the occasion calls you with a friend, you passe not far before your companie is increased by a third: when there is two to one, there is no fear of him being alone, before you call him fellow-tra veller, and joie in his company, and hee in yours: but before you have rid 10 miles together on your way he overtakes some three more of his Company, then he shakes and trembles, and seems afraid; and cries, Di­rectly friends we are fore-laid; if ye have Charge about you, let me know't, wee'l fighr it out; if we have nought to lose, wee were best yield: By these like words hee'l quickly finde whether the prize be rich; and whilest you thought there had been three to three, there's four to two: If they find you armed, then one who they find fittest for the work, they cloath in Russet, like a Country-bore, in his high-shoo's, with twists of Hay instead of Boots, a goad in his hand, riding aside upon a saddle moade of a wispe of straw, who rides cheek by joul with you, and causes mirth by his most simple talk; you not so much as think he is capable of hurt: but when he hath brought you into their snare, he seizes one, and your new fellow-traveller the other, the rest come in, and then it is in vain to strive, for nothing lesse then your money will ransome you out of their hands.

CHAP. VI. How, when, and where to wide.

THose so many prodigion waies to rob the Innocent, bids every man be warie how, and when he [...], and where: if he have any charge about him, let mee advise you not to ride by day, but by night; but for those base sheep-stealing punie rogues, that hazard their necks for a No­ble, I am unacquainted with their actions; therefore I do not undertake to shew their deceits; but for those Cutters on the road, I can assure you, you are free from any hors­man whatsoever: for 'tis their rule, that surely none by night will ride that are worth robbing. Next, they must keep civill hours, for fear that through mistrust they are ap­prelien ded; therefore it's their chief care to take their Inn betimes? and more, they hardly dare advenuture in the dark, because they cannot see either your dangerous defences, or their own advantages, or spie pistols or other private wea­pons: & you have time your money to convey from them, and divers other advantages the day denies; but since this is ordained for rest, I can say no more, but it's my best ad­vice, to keep you from the dangers of the road: and it's a general rule with high-way-men, to keep their station upon the greatest roads, that of those number which passe by, they may select such as they think are richest prize: but on your petty rodes, where searce any use to pass; they never use to come: there you may passe secure: which I advise you choose if possible you can, rather then on great roads. But 'tis a foolish custom you have gotten, when you ride by any place that commonly speaks danger, you bussle up together side by side, which is most commonly your overthrow: [Page 25]but take my counsel here, when e're you ride, in fear espe­cially, ride far asunder, a Buts length at least, and then bee sure they will never attempt to rob you, when your strag­ling order will give some of you leave undoubtedly to escape, and to raise the Countrie in their pursuit: Besides, their Company is set in several parties, when should you ride in a cluster, they will surely sallie out; and seiz their purchase; when if they should fall upon a stragling partie, before they can do any thing it's strange but rescue comes, which easily will make the Cutters flie.

CHAP. VII. If hee bee beset.

I Have thus trac'd them in every meander of their sinful courses, whereby to discover them to you, that you may avoid them; it shall be my next work to instruct you how to behave your self if unhappily you are beset; Look not as if amazed about, as if you hoped for rescue, this in­courages them to height of resolution; but look as stern as they, and so, as if to fear you were a stranger, and make your brow the throne of rage and furie; and this is the rea­diest and most certain way to save your monie, and your re­putation too; for they fighting with a guilty conscience within, and without against a Countrie-Law and Justice, right and equitie, which I speak by experience, if nobly you resist, will make the most undaunted spirit of them all stoop to discouragement; for I have known them that of themselvs have been of so unresistable a resolution, that they durst out-brave the roaring Canon to the mouth, and scorn to stoop to basceness; yet in this act, when men have but seemed to resist, they have shook and trembled, even [Page 26]to a remorse of their wickednesse; for though they swear to shoot you if you yield not, 'tis but to fright you, for they dare not do it, because they know that murther never escapes the hand of heavens just punishment, and by thus doing oftentimes Thievs may be taken, and so others freed by their apprehension from the like danger you were in, and by this act you will gain honor and repute.

CHAP. VIII. By telling them of a fault most Travellers are guilty of, if Thievs assault them.

YOur meanest hearts submit too soon, and oft-times yield almost before they bid you stand, and then wish they may escape, that so the Hundred may repair your loss, if they are not apprehended by the Hue and Crie, and un­worthily you oft-times ad to, and if not double the summ, knowing the Hundred will be glad for to compound; and so you cozen both the Countrie and the Thievs, and to convince them that you fought like men, you cut and flash your cloaths, and swear they did it in the fight who robb'd them; when yet ten to one your blows were tears, crying for life, and then bid them take all; but these ignoble spi­rits I hate, and by my work intend no love to them, but to the nobler sort.

CHAP. IX. If by chance he be unawares surprised, how to behave himself.

BUt if by your own negligence, and the frowns of fate, the pleasure of your Journie be eclips'd and clouded by a sudden surprisal, blame not me, who indeavour if you please to hinder those accidents if you be careful, else the fault's your own; Yet let me still advise you what to do if you see no hopes but you must yield, strive not at all when 'tis too late, but give the fairest words you can, racking your finest wits to please their ear; and most de­voutly wish you had more monie to supplie their wants, and with a kind of chearfulnesse deliver some, and so per­haps they'l let you passe without further to do; but if they make an offer, seem to yield freely to it: then will they sift you soundly, but do not hold your hand upon your mo­nie, but seem to be a stranger unto fear, and that will va­nish their suspition of a greater summe; for when I have took so much as pleased me well, I have by men's fear had grounds to think that they had more, and so by laying my hand upon their arme or thigh, or near where it lay hid, they would crie out, they were undone, when I as yet found nothing more, but by their temeritie have been incoura­ged to make a stricter search, and found considerable sums that secretly laie hid, when if they had been disetect, they had been secure and safe from me.

CHAP. X. Being Robb'd, how to follow them, which way to set Heu-and-cry, how to coast, and where to find the Thievs.

IF you have lost your wealth, their is no help; but to in­deavour to surprise the thievs by strict pursuit: therefore be wary, and follow with all speed, tell you obtain your wish: and seiz the rogues that lately seized you. But bee carefull, as it becomes you to follow undiscerned, lest they lay Am­buscadoe to surprize your liberty, and it subdue to bonds; for if they see you in your chase, the formost hee'l slip into some by place, when you supose no ill, ride on: but when you do draw nigh, they sally, and secure you in strong bonds, where fast bound they leav you, and then hee that comes next releases you; to him you tell your adverssfates, and say they left the road, but whither they went you know not how to tell, but admit mee to your counsell, and I'le tell you how to shun their escape; and by example the surest Shool-Master, I shall direct you what to do in this: as suppose in Coal-brook-road you lost your purse, the Thievs to Ʋx­bridg-road or Stanes will surely ride and not fail to take up their lodging, there for that night this is most certain, and the soundest precept in their law, and truly for invention, the wittiest secret that I er'e knew or heard, and stands with reason, therefore let reason guid you to secure these Thievs if they have robb'd you: for they know full well none use to travell from road to road: no not the Hue-and-cries they never crosse the passages, but go streight along; so that by this close way they rest at pleasure, and are gone again before the lazy Hue and Crie salutes them with an alarum; [Page 29]nay, and with grief I speak it, some silly fellow newly crept into office searches and enquires, and by Authoritie seizes poor Travellers, as far from wrong as they from wit and knowledg, thinking by this false apprehension to get cre­dit, and be esteemed double-diligent, when they poor harmlesse souls, now under hold, though free from guilt, do oft-times lose their lives for what they never were once so much as privie to; therefore to regulate this errour, and that you may avoid the like, take my advice, and then I hope you'l find and secure the right offender: and so to do, with all possible speed scour the next great Road, not streight before, but either on the right hand, or on the left; and if you miss them, then conclude they are shelter­ed in some Inn which you have past, and therefore observ my good advice, and you shall surely find and apprehend them, as thus; If you have mist them, set some careful Spies with a sufficient assistance near at hand, and be con­sident you'l see them come that way without the least ap­prehension of fear; and if (because I have betraied the secrets of their Trade) they leav this use, I am sure nei­ther their wit, nor the Divels assistance, can ever devise the like again; and I seriously protest, I see no way for them to flie with safetie, or the least hope to esape: But this ob­serve, that if they light of any considerable summe, then they rid that night to their randezvouz in the Citie of Lon­don, which is too sure a shelter for them; but with a real heart to fright them from that waie, who I cannot draw from it with advice, I will pursue them hither with the best instructions for their apprehension; but observantly take notice, for here is as eminent an example of their sub­tiltie as any ever the Divel inrich'd their knowledge with; for if you are robb'd in the Eastern quarter, pursue them not in the direct road to London with Hue and Crie, for by [Page 30]some other way they are fled; therefore hast to the Citie, and in Westminster, Holborn, the Strand, and Common­garden search speedily, for there they are. If Northward they light on you, then to Southwark, the Bank side, or Lambeth they are gone, and so of the West and South; and when you find them, seiz all you find, for they are all Companions that are together.

Thus they alwaies do contrive to take those places where they may most seemingly be safe from dangers of pursuits, and in thus doing as I have shewed you, they think the Citie is between them and the Hue and Crie, and they secure; and so before the search comes to them, as it sel­dome goes so far, they have time enough to stay, and then be gone. Thus have I laid such a forme of Instructions for the Hue and Crie, as if observed, they cannot escape his hands.

CHAP. XI. An extraordinary Charge the Countrie usu­ally put themselvs unto, which is both needlesse and hurtful.

CUstome, that Mother of absurdities, hath not only To­lerated, but Naturalized a practice, which though well intended, is not onely unnecessary in a discreet eye: but hurtfull, as shall bee made manifest; for where any robbery is committed, the Hundred commonly puts a watch imme­diately to guard that place where it is done. Which veri­fies the old Proverb used in di [...]ision of the like acts: To shut [Page 31]the stable-door when the Steed is lost: 'tis not to be imagi­ned that ever the Thief should come to make a needlesse breach to thank the Groom for feeding of the beast so wel, and rubbing, dressing, and looking to him with honest care: for just so it must needs fare with them that should igno, rantly come to the same place where they seized their prize knowing this custome to be in use, but say they should com there, and at that time the watch is sate; I really protest, I ever held that road that had a watch upon it, to be the surest and best place for purchase. For first the honest Travellours supposes it impossible for them to be robb'd, being guarded thus, which makes him carelesse to secure himself, because they fear not; whilst alas! the Thievs do what they list, and freely pass, and the watch-men ner'e the wiser; for they stand on that place commanded for their station, and move not from it, when 'tis indifferent with the Thievs when he lays hold on what he looks for, his booty, which where hee singled it out, all places are alike to him, and so another's as good as that: so that the coast be clear in sight; nd when he hath done the deed, he may securely pass the watch, who cannot discern or know him from another man, but lets him pass for honest. For I never past them, but they gave me civil language: 'tis true, they bid me have a special care I was not robb'd, when in truth it was my trade to plun­der others: but then suppose they had examined me, I would have answered them with such respect and civil lan­guage, and praise the work they stood to do, that they could not suspect me; and I have known some of my fel­low Cutters, that when examined, have carried themselvs with that discretion, that to incourage them to be careful in their place, hath thrown twelve-pence, or a half-crown piece but newly borrowed, where they never mean to paie, that they have promised to drink his honest health. Nay, [Page 32]suppose they should suspect me and my Companie, alas! they are poor silly old men, that are decrepid, weak, and altogether unable to make resistance, and good for nothing but to loyter there; for I have seen a dozen such stand all together with Halberds, Pikes, Pitchforks, and Clubs, amazed and frighted, not daring to stir to rescue them that were distress'd; whilst we before their faces have bid men stand; assaulted, surprised, and refled such as we liked; when we had done it, and were upon the gallop, then they faintly crie, Thievs, Thievs: Stop them, stop them; when none but Trees and Hedges that heard their clamours: and I have known some that by way of parly have grown familiar with them, and watcht opportunity, and seazed and bound them hand and foot; then in a ditch have charg'd them on their lives to lay so quiet that none may hear them: and then like a safe guard, set to preserve the Travellour from wrong, with the watch-mens bills have stood with confidence till booty come that way, and then made bold as with authority to stop and hold such as they think have coyn, and on pretence of search for what was lately lost upon the way: if they find purchase worth the takeing, seaz it and be gone: so that a watch doth hurt, not good. But if you needs will have it so, choos lusty able men, resolved and yonug, arm them with bows and arrows, Muskets, or good Carbines, or Fowling-pieces, and with a horse or two let them coast up and down: this may do good, that they may not be so abused as I have shewn, but if occa­sion bee, may follow on to purpose; and this is my advice proceeding from experience.

CHAP. XII. Divers Instructions for the Inn-keeper, how to know Thieves from his honest Guests.

THus have I traced them from their first entrance to their action, and from their action to their flight, and I hope therein given so clear light to those that desire their apprehension, that yet may occasion either their Conversion, or Imprisonment, and that their Conviction; and having spoke sufficiently unto the Travilor to be carefull in his carriage in each par­ticular: Give me leave to add a word unto the ho­nest Inn-keeper, that so he may discern between the honest Travilor and the Thief, which I shall perform in a word; which to doe, let him make it his chiefest care not to wink at such dishonesty for hope of gain, least that sweet be imbittered by futer trouble and disgrace: therefore let thy respects, who ever thou art that reads in this, be levelled at honesty more then gain, knowing that a certain little with a godly peace of contentment, is a greater gain, and a higher hap­pinesse, then an uncertain deal with a terrour of con­science. And to discover them is easie, if you observe my Rules.

First, let the Ostler observe and he shall discern their extraordinary curiosity about their Horses, they must be strangely drest, and as strangely fed, with mashes, bread, and mingled provender, and that [Page 34]in an unusuall quantity; and if he wonder at this, they cannot forbear but praise their Tricks, and shew how by their good abilities they doe deserve it, and sometimes they will boast their worthy services will soon repay the cost, or some dark words to that effect, that are palpable grounds for to suspect them; and then they will ask, whose Horse is that, and what is the owner, that stands there? what function is their Master? what manner of men? whither they travell, how far, and when? So by his answer they surmise which will be the riche?st purchase.

And, secondly, if you not their Clokebags, they are empty, onely they carry them to make ashew.

And then thirdly, when the Chamberlain has ush­ured them to their Chamber, he strait is sent away; but let him hearken, and if they are surely Thieves, tis ten to one, but they fall of share what prize they have got that day, and let him prie narrowly into their Chamber and he shall see them share as well as hear the money, and every one shall take what is his lot; this they never defer, if they have had any pur­chase, lest he that hath the purse should cheat the rest; this done, they hug each other, and then they knock in hast, complaining at his negligence that should at­tend, and call for Sack, and then they want my Hosts company, whom with the highest strain of Comple­ment they salute and bid him welcome; but if my Host mark their discourse, he may conjecture much, and know what men they are, as also by the saucy carriage of their men; and if their severall Names you do inquire, injoyn your servants to doe the like, and you shall soon perceive they have more Names [Page 35]then one a piece; and when they are at supper let some one hastily knock at your gate, and bid him that attends observe their carriage then, and he shall see them start, as in a fearfull maze, and stare each o­ther in the face with gastly looks, and if you are in the Chamber, ask what Officers are those? who doe they look for? Or if forth from them, ask aloud that they may hear, what would Mr. Constable have? who doth he seek? or what is the Constable mad to knock so hastily, or the like: and if they Weem much frighted, bid them not fear, none shall come up or offer him that wrong to search his house, so to dispa­rage him, for he was no guests but honest Gentlemen, and if they command him, he will use his authority that none shall enter; there by this you may prie in­to their private thoughts so far, that they will confess something, and reply, they shall be much ingaged for your succour, and then you may use your own discretion.

And you may see by their needlesse stay, their dis­regard of time, what they expect, for they but bait to stand and gaze what purchase they can see go by, and when they have spied a likely money booty passe by them, they pretehd immediate businesse calls them to be gone.

And when they come to take up Inne to lodge, they commonly come in divided, and come in several companies, to frustrate the Hue and Cry as to their number: besides if one part be surprized the other may escape; and when the residue comes in, they seem as strangers, and of mine Host they will enquire what their Companions are, and what Country-men, [Page 36]whether he know them; and if they find he hair a jealousie or suspect either to them, they will present­ly will some businesse to be gone with speed: but if for honest Travilers you take them, as it is like you may, in your kitchen they doe meet by seeming chance, they as mear strangers one another salute, and drinking there together ere they part they become familiarly acquainted and conclude to sup together, when if you mark them well you shall find by their behavior that they are not strangers but bosome friends, there they imbrace, rejoyce, and praise their plot, and laugh at mine Host, that he suspect them not. The fairest Innes they usually frequent, pre­suming that they will not so much disparage mine Host, as to make search among his guests, which com­monly are persons of account.

Thus have I laid open their devises and deceits, that so the honest traveller mauescape their hand, and then fall into the hands of justice, thereby indea­vouring to repaire the wrongs my Country hath suffered, by indeavouring to prevent others from living in the like sin, and so subvert sin that would raise its own dominion by their fall and ruine; to which end that it may become effectuall, the Lord assist my indeavours to discover, and others by this discovery to apprehend them, and that apprehension expose them to the Law of justice, if they reject the Law of mercy.