By the time they had supped, in came four more of Ned’s comrades, who were invited also to sit down, and more provisions were called for, which were quickly brought, and as rapidly devoured.
When the fury of consuming half a dozen good fowls and other victuals was over, besides several flasks of wine, there was not less than three pounds odd money to pay. At this they stared on each other, and held a profound silence, whilst Mr. Randal was fumbling in his pocket. When they saw that he only brought forth a mouse from the mountain of money the thieves hoped to find piled in his pocket, which was only as much as his share, he that pretended to know him started up, and protested he should be excused for old acquaintance sake; but the pewterer, not willing to be beholden, as indeed they never intended he should, to such companions, lest for this civility they should expect greater obligations from him, pressed them to accept his dividend of the reckoning, saying, if they thought it equitable he would pay more.
At last one of them, tipping the wink, said, “Come, come, what needs all this ado? Let the gentleman, if he so pleases, present us with this small treat, and do you give him a larger at his taking his farewell in the morning.” Mr. Randal not liking this proposal, it was started that he and Ned should throw dice to end the controversy; and fearing he had got into ill company, to avoid mischief, Randal acquiesced to throw a main who should pay the whole shot, which was so managed that the lot fell upon Randal. By this means Randal, having the voice of the whole board against him, was deputed to pay the whole reckoning; though the dissembling villains vowed and protested they had rather it had fallen to any of them, that they might have had the honor of treating him.
Mr. Randal concealed his discontent at these shirking tricks as well as he could; and they perceiving he would not engage in gaming, but counterfeited drowsiness, and desired to be abed, the company broke up, and he was shown to his lodgings, which he barricaded as well as he could, by putting old chairs, stools, and tables against the door. Going to bed and putting the candle out, he fell asleep; but was soon awaked by a strange walking up and down the room, and an outcry of murder and thieves.
At this surprising noise he leaped out of bed, and ran to the door, to see whether it was fast or not: and finding nothing removed, (for the highwaymen came into his chamber by a trap-door which was behind the hangings,) he wondered how the noise should be there in his apartment, unless it was enchanted; but as he was about to remove the barricade to run and raise the house, he was surrounded by a crew, who, tying and gagging him, took away all his clothes, and left him to shift for himself as well as he could.
One day having the misfortune to have his horse shot under him, Bonnet embraced the first opportunity to take a good gelding from the grounds of the man who kept the Red Lion inn. Being again equipped like a gentleman, he rode into Cambridgeshire, and met with a gentleman, who informed him that he had well nigh been robbed, and requested him to ride along with him for protection. As a highwayman is never out of his way, he complied, and, at a convenient place, levied a contribution, as protector of the gentleman, by emptying his pockets of eighty guineas. He, however, had the generosity to give him half-a-crown to carry him to the next town.
After having, according to computation, committed three hundred robberies, another thief, being apprehended, in order to save his own life, informed against Bonnet, who was apprehended, not upon the highway, but in his own lodgings, and sent to Newgate, and at the next assizes carried down to Cambridge, sentenced and executed before the castle, on the 28th March, 1713, to the great joy of the county, which had suffered severely by his depredations.
WILL OGDEN AND TOM REYNOLDS.
The first of these was a waterman, and born in Southwark. The second was a dung-bargeman, and born in Barnaby street. Entering into company, they robbed shops and ships, during the space of two years, with considerable success: they then ascended to the second degree of robbery, and broke several houses in Southwark. Associating themselves with another, they broke into a watchmaker’s shop, and extracted twenty-six watches; but the stranger becoming evidence, our two trusty friends were lodged in Newgate, tried, and condemned, but received a pardon, in consequence of which they were again let loose upon the community. Ogden one evening met a parson walking home under the light of the moon, and approached him in the character of a seaman in great poverty and distress. His dismal narrative excited the compassion of the parson, who gave him a sixpence. The parson had not proceeded far when Ogden met him again, and renewed his request. “You are the most impudent beggar that ever I met with,” cried the reverend gentleman. Ogden told him that he was in very great want, and that the sixpence he had received would not supply his necessities. He then gave him half a crown. Ogden said, “These are very sad times, for there’s horrid robbing abroad, therefore, if you have any more money about you, you may as well let me have it as another, who perhaps may abuse you, and binding you hand and foot, make you lie in the cold all night; but if you’ll give me your money, I’ll take care of you, and conduct you very safely home.”
The parson made a virtue of necessity, and gave him all his money, which was about forty shillings. Ogden then said, “I see you have a watch, sir; you may as well let me have that too.” The parson complied, and as they were plodding along, two or three fellows came out upon them, to whom Ogden cried, “The moon shines bright,” and they let them proceed. They had only gone a short way, when the same scene was repeated, but at last the parson was brought safely to his own door. He requested his guide to go in, assuring him that he should receive no injury; but the latter declined his offer. The good parson then brought a bottle of wine, and drinking to Ogden, gave him the bottle and the glass to help himself, upon which he ran off with both.