After this adventure, Dudley had the impudence to rob Captain Richardson, the Governor of Newgate prison, whom he met on the road to Tonbridge. He had already been in the Governor's clutches on three or four occasions, and so felt a glow of satisfaction when he robbed him. But he did not succeed in doing so without considerable trouble, and the Governor told him pretty plainly that he would fare ill if ever he came again within the walls of Newgate, which would not be long hence, he suspected.
Dudley had his ready answer. "I expect," he said, "no favour from the hands of a gaoler, who comes of the race of those angels that fell with Lucifer from Heaven, whither you'll never return again. Of all your bunches of keys, not one hath wards to open that door, for a gaoler's soul stands not upon those two pillars that support Heaven: Justice and Mercy. It rather sits upon those two footstools of Hell, Wrong and Cruelty So"—changing his didactic manner for a more business-like attitude—"make no more words about your purse, for have it I will, or else your life."
There was no help for it, and "Richardson was obliged to grant his request, and between Dudley and taking the waters at Tonbridge, went home as well purged and cleansed as a man could desire."
Dudley often robbed, it appears, with Swiftnicks, but their joint adventures are not recorded. With some other companions, he on one occasion robbed a clergyman travelling on the Exeter Road, near Hartley Row, but his pocket was not well-lined, and Dudley made him preach a sermon in praise of thieving, swearing to shoot him if he did not. This he performed with such humour and eloquence that Dudley assured him Old Nick would certainly soon make him Archbishop: "Meanwhile," said he, "here is your money back, and if you will take up a collection, my fine fellows here shall contribute to it."
CAPTAIN DUDLEY AND THE CLERGYMAN.
It may, however, be suspected that the congregation of "fine fellows" were not quite so satisfied with the sermon as their Captain, or perhaps did not appreciate their leader's humour; for the collection when taken up did not amount to more than four shillings. It was not a profitable day for the band.
The accounts, given severally by Smith and Johnson, of Dudley's adventures differ very widely. According to Johnson, Dudley's earliest effort was in a different line altogether, and was a burglary committed at Blackheath, where he broke into a house and carried off a large quantity of plate. The story well illustrates the peculiar ideas of honesty these seventeenth-century scoundrels pretended to hold. It seems he had sold most of the plate he had taken at Blackheath to a refiner, but was shortly afterwards apprehended and committed to Newgate. While there, he sent for the refiner who had bought of him, and angrily reproached him. "It is a hard thing," he said, "to find an honest man or a fair dealer. You cursed rogue, there was, among the plate you bought of me, a cup with a cover. You told me it was only silver-gilt, and bought it at the same price with the rest; but it plainly appears, by the advertisement in the Gazette, that it was a gold cup and cover. I see you are a rogue, and that there is no trusting anybody."
After robbing General Monk, under impudent circumstances, Dudley found his native land dangerous, and so crossed the Channel, and by easy stages traversed France and arrived at Rome, where he appeared in the garb of a pilgrim. He afterwards travelled to Jerusalem and returned to Rome, and endeavoured to obtain audience of the Pope.