The nobleman was conducted up-stairs. Will bustling in after him, hastened to the bar-keeper, and desired him to lend him an apron, as his master would be served only by his own footman. “He is a very good customer, and expects the very best wine: I must go to the cellar and taste it for him.” The apron being given, he went to the cellar, and returned with some of the best of each wine for his pretended master. He ran so quick up and down stairs, and was so alert at his work, that none of the other servants could equal him. Meanwhile, the company up-stairs taking him for the servant of the house, were highly satisfied with his attendance. Will was also careful to give full cups to the servant who should have served in his place, with some money, which the other was very glad to receive for doing nothing. He seldom also went into the room without passing some merry jest to amuse the company. They were so highly pleased with him, that they said one to another, “This is a merry, witty fellow; such a man as he is fit to make a house; he deserves double wages.” When Will saw his plan ripe for execution, he came into the room with some wine, and by the aid of his knife, made a slit in my lord’s coat. Returning with a bottle in one hand, and his other hand full of glasses, before he approached his lordship he started and stared, saying, “What fellows are those who have made that coat?” with other imprecations against the tailor. Then some of the company rising up, saw the rent in my lord’s coat, and cried, “My lord, the tailor has cheated you.” Will, drawing near, said, “Such things may happen; but give me the coat, and I’ll carry it privately under my master’s cloak to an acquaintance of mine, who will presently make it as good as if it had not been torn.” Borrowing a great coat of a gentleman present, the nobleman gave Will his coat to carry to the tailor, who, coming down stairs, informed the landlord of the disaster, received his cloak, and, putting the rent coat below it, seized a good beaver hat off one of the cloak-pins, and hastened from the tavern. Arriving at the inn where the gentlemen were anxiously waiting his return, he went into another room, dressed himself, and entered with the cloak and beaver on. “What!” said one of them, “instead of a coat, you come with a cloak, and great need for it; for,” he added, “there’s a deal of knavery under it.” Will then opened the cloak, and showed them the coat, saying, that he had received the cloak and beaver into the bargain; and gave an account of the whole adventure.
Meanwhile, my lord and his company had waited long in expectation of the servant, whom they supposed to have been one of the waiters of the house. The landlord also wondering that they were so long in calling for more wine, one of the servants was sent up-stairs to force trade. He entered the room, saying, “Call here, call here, gentlemen?” “Yes,” said one of them, “where is your fellow-servant who waited upon us?” “My fellow-servant!” exclaimed the other; “he said he was my lord’s servant, and that his master would be served by none but himself, and I should have good vails, nevertheless.” My lord replied, “How can that be? I have only one gentleman of my own retinue; the rest are with my lady. He that served us came in with an apron, and in the character of one of the servants of the house:—call up the landlord!” Boniface instantly waited upon them, when one of the gentlemen asked him, if he kept sharpers in his house, to affront gentlemen and to rob them. “Nay,” replied the vintner, who was a choleric man, “do you bring sharpers along with you, to affront me and rob my house? I am sure I have lost a new cloak and beaver; and, for aught I know, though you look like gentlemen, you may be sharpers yourselves; and I expect to be paid by you for my losses, as well as for the reckoning.” One of them instantly drew upon him, enraged at his insolent language; but the landlord ran down stairs in affright, and alarmed the whole house, entreating them not to suffer such rogues to escape. In the mean time he seized a sword, the servants armed themselves with spits, pokers, and such other weapons as the house afforded. A great uproar was soon raised; and the nobleman coming first out to penetrate through the crowd, made a thrust at the landlord, but was beaten back by a fire-shovel in the hand of one of the waiters, and narrowly escaped being run through with a long spit in the hands of a cook maid. His lordship, seeing the door so completely guarded, shut himself up in the room, and began to consult with the rest of the company what was best to be done.
Fortunately, however, the gentleman who was in the other tavern with Will, conjecturing that a quarrel might ensue between the nobleman and the vintner, who had lost his cloak and beaver, sent his own landlord to inform him, that the rogue was caught, and in safe custody.
He was admitted up-stairs, waited on his lordship, and communicated to him the whole affair. A cessation of arms took place. They drank to the health of the landlord, assuring him, that in future they would be friendly to his house; but, in the mean time, they attended their peacemaker to the tavern, where Will was exhibiting his dexterity. The vintner went along with them, and, after common compliments, Will restored the coat, the cloak, and the beaver, and continued to amuse them during the remainder of the evening with the relation of his adventures.
But to return, at length, to the captain his brother. He had, along with his companions, committed so many robberies upon the highway, that a proclamation was issued against them, offering a reward to those who should bring them, either dead or alive. This occasioned their detection in the following manner:—having committed a robbery, and being closely pursued to Westminster ferry, the wherryman refused to carry any more that night. Two of them then rode off, and the other four gave their horses to a waterman to lead to the next inn. The horses foaming with sweat, the waterman began to suspect that they were robbers who had been keenly pursued, and communicated his suspicions to the constable, who secured the horses, and went in search of the men.
He was not long in seizing one of them, who confessed; and the constable, hastening to the inn, secured the rest, and, having placed a strong guard upon them, rode to Lambeth, and making sure of the other two, led them before a justice of the peace, who committed them to Newgate.
At the next sessions, captain Dudley, his brother, and three other accomplices, were tried, and condemned to suffer death.
After sentence, captain Dudley was brought to Newgate, where he conducted himself agreeably to his sad situation. He was conveyed from Newgate with six other prisoners. He appeared pretty cheerful, but his brother lay all the time sick in the cart. The ceremonies of religion being performed, they were launched into another world on the twenty-second of February, 1681, to answer for the numerous crimes of their guilty lives.
The bodies of the captain and his brother, having been cut down, were put into separate coffins, to be conveyed to their disconsolate father, who at the sight was so overwhelmed, that he sank upon the dead bodies, and never spoke more, and was buried at the same time and in the same grave with his two sons.