The History and Remarkable Life of the Truly Honourable Colonel Jacque, Commonly called Colonel Jack

"Ay," says Will; "when we have got a great estate, we shall be willing to lay it down." "But where," says I, "shall we be before that time comes, if we should drive on this cursed kind of trade?"

"Prithee never think of that," says Will; "if you think of those things, you will never be fit to be a gentleman." He touched me there indeed, for it ran much in my mind still that I was to be a gentleman, and it made me dumb for a while; but I came to myself after a little while, and I said to him, pretty tartly, "Why, Will, do you call this way of living the life of a gentleman?"

"Why," says Will, "why not?"

"Why," says I, "was it like a gentleman for me to take that 22s. from a poor ancient woman, when she begged of me upon her knees not to take it, and told me it was all she had in the world to buy her bread for herself and a sick child which she had at home? Do you think I could be so cruel, if you had not stood by and made me do it? Why, I cried at doing it as much as the poor woman did, though I did not let you see me."

"You fool you," says Will; "you will never be fit for our business, indeed, if you mind such things as those. I shall bring you off those things quickly. Why, if you will be fit for business, you must learn to fight when they resist, and cut their throats when they submit; you must learn to stop their breath that they may beg and pray no more. What signifies pity? Prithee, who will pity us when we come to the Old Bailey? I warrant you that whining old woman, that begged so heartily for her 22s., would let you and I beg upon our knees, and would not save our lives by not coming in for an evidence against us. Did you ever see any of them cry when they see gentlemen go to the gallows?"

"Well, Will," says I, "you had better let us keep to the business we were in before. There were no such cruel doings in that, and yet we got more money by it than I believe we shall get at this."

"No, no," says Will, "you are a fool; you don't know what fine things we shall do in a little while."

Upon this discourse we parted for that time; but I resolved with myself that I would never be concerned with him that way any more. The truth is, they were such a dreadful gang, such horrid barbarous villains, that even that little while that I was among them my very blood run cold in my veins at what I heard, particularly the continued raving and damning one another and themselves at every word they spoke; and then the horrid resolutions of murder, and cutting throats, which I perceived was in their minds upon any occasion that should present. This appeared first in their discourse upon the disappointment they met with at Chelsea, where the two rogues that were with us, ay, and Will too, damned and raged that they could not get into the house, and swore they would have cut the gentleman's throat if they had got in, and shook hands, damning and cursing themselves if they did not murder the whole family as soon as Tom (that was the manservant) could get an opportunity to let them in.

Two days after this Will came to my lodging; for I had now got a room by myself, had bought me tolerable good clothes and some shirts, and began to look like other folks. But, as it happened, I was abroad upon the scout in another way; for though I was not hardened enough for so black a villain as Will would have had me be, yet I had not arrived to any principle sufficient to keep me from a life, in its degree wicked enough, which tended to the same destruction, though not in so violent and precipitant degrees. I had his message delivered to me, which was to meet him the next evening at such a place, and as I came in time enough to meet, so I went to the place, but resolved beforehand that I would not go any more with him among the gang.

However, to my great satisfaction, I missed him; for he did not come at all to the place, but met with the gang at another place, they having sent for him in haste upon the notice of some booty; and so they went all away together. This was a summons, it seems, from one of the creatures which they had abroad in a family, where an opportunity offered them to commit a notorious robbery, down almost as far as Hounslow, and where they wounded a gentleman's gardener so that I think he died, and robbed the house of a very considerable sum of money and plate.

This, however, was not so clean carried, nor did they get in so easy, but by the resistance they met with the neighbours were all alarmed, and the gentlemen rogues were pursued, and being at London with the booty, one of them was taken. Will, a dexterous fellow and head of the gang, made his escape, and though in his clothes, with a great weight about him of both money and plate, plunged into the Thames and swam over where there was no path or road leading to the river; so that nobody suspected any one's going that way. Being got over, he made his way, wet as he was, into some woods adjacent, and, as he told me afterwards, not far from Chertsey, and stayed lurking about in the woods or fields thereabouts till his clothes were dry; then, in the night, got down to Kingston, and so to Mortlake, where he got a boat to London.

He knew nothing that one of his comrades was taken; only he knew that they were all so closely pursued that they were obliged to disperse, and every one to shift for himself. He happened to come home in the evening, as good luck then directed him, just after search had been made for him by the constables; his companion, who was taken, having, upon promise of favour, and of saving him from the gallows, discovered his companions, and Will among the rest, as the principal party in the whole undertaking.

Will got notice of this just time enough to run for it and not to be taken; and away he came to look for me; but, as my good fate still directed, I was not at home neither. However, he left all his booty at my lodging, and hid it in an old coat that lay under my bedding, and left word that my brother Will had been there, and had left his coat that he borrowed of me, and that it was under my bed.

I knew not what to make of it, but went up to go to bed; and, finding the parcel, was perfectly frighted to see, wrapped up in it, above one hundred pound in plate and money, and yet knew nothing of brother Will, as he called himself, nor did I hear of him for three or four days.

At the end of four days I heard, by great accident, that Will, who used to be seen with me, and who called me brother, was taken, and would be hanged. Next day a poor man, a shoemaker, that used formerly to have a kindness for me, and to send me of errands, and gave me sometimes some victuals, seeing me accidentally in Rosemary Lane, going by him, clasped me fast hold by the arm. "Hark ye, young man," says he, "have I catched you?" and hauled me along as if I had been a thief apprehended, and he the constable. "Hark ye, Colonel Jacque," says he again, "come along with me. I must speak with you. What, are you got into this gang too? What, are you turned housebreaker? Come, I'll have you hanged, to be sure."

These were dreadful words to me, who, though not guilty of the particular thing in question, yet was frighted heartily before, and did not know what I might be charged with by Will, if he was taken, as I heard that very morning he was. With these words, the shoemaker began to hale and drag me along as he used to do when I was a boy.

However, recovering my spirits, and provoked to the highest degree, I said to him again, "What do you mean, Mr. – ? Let me alone, or you will oblige me to make you do it;" and with that I stopped short, and soon let him see I was grown a little too big to be haled about as I used to be when I run of his errands, and made a motion with my other hand as if I would strike him in the face.

"How, Jacque!" says he; "will you strike me? Will you strike your old friend?" and then he let go my arm, and laughed. "Well, but hark ye, colonel," says he, "I am in earnest. I hear bad news of you. They say you are gotten into bad company, and that this Will calls you brother. He is a great villain, and I hear he is charged with a bloody robbery, and will be hanged if he is taken. I hope you are not concerned with him. If you are, I would advise you to shift for yourself, for the constable and the headborough are after him to-day, and if he can lay any thing to you he will do it, you may be sure. He will certainly hang you to save himself."

This was kind, and I thanked him, but told him this was a thing too serious, and that had too much weight in it, to be jested with, as he had done before; and that some ignorant stranger might have seized upon me as a person guilty, who had no further concern in it than just knowing the man, and so I might have been brought into trouble for nothing. At least people might have thought I was among them, whether I was or no, and it would have rendered me suspected, though I was innocent.

He acknowledged that; told me he was but in jest, and that he talked to me just as he used to do.

"However, colonel," says he, "I won't jest any more with you in a thing of such a dangerous consequence; I only advise you to keep the fellow company no more."

I thanked him, and went away, but in the greatest perplexity imaginable. And now, not knowing what to do with myself, or with the little ill-gotten wealth which I had, I went musing and alone into the fields towards Stepney, my usual walk, and there began to consider what to do. And as this creature had left his prize in my garret, I began to think that if he should be taken, and should confess and send the officers to search there for the goods, and they should find them, I should be undone, and should be taken up for a confederate; whereas I knew nothing of the matter, and had no hand in it.

While I was thus musing, and in great perplexity, I heard somebody halloo to me; and, looking about, I saw Will running after me. I knew not what to think at first, but seeing him alone, was the more encouraged, and I stood still for him. When he came up to me I said to him, "What is the matter, Will?" "Matter!" says Will. "Matter enough; I am undone. When was you at home?"

"I saw what you left there," says I. "What is the meaning of it, and where got you all that? Is that your being undone?"

"Ay," says Will, "I am undone for all that; for the officers are after me; and I am a dead dog if I am taken, for George is in custody, and he has peached on me and all the others to save his life."

"Life!" says I; "why should you lose your life if they should take you? Pray what would they do to you?"

"Do to me!" says he; "they would hang me, if the king had ne'er another soldier in his guards. I shall certainly be hanged as I am now alive."

This frighted me terribly, and I said, "And what will you do then?" "Nay," says he, "I know not. I would get out of the nation, if I knew how; but I am a stranger to all those things, and I know not what to do, not I. Advise me, Jacque," says he; "prithee tell me whither shall I go. I have a good mind to go to sea."

"You talk of going away," says I; "what will you do with all you have hid in my garret? It must not lie there," said I; "for if I should be taken up for it, and it be found to be the money you stole, I shall be ruined."

"I care not what becomes of it, not I," says Will. "I'll be gone. Do you take it, if you will, and do what you will with it. I must fly, and I cannot take it with me." "I won't have it, not I," says I to him. "I'll go and fetch it to you if you will take it," says I; "but I won't meddle with it. Besides, there is plate. What shall I do with plate?" said I. "If I should offer to sell it anywhere," said I, "they will stop me."

"As for that," says Will, "I could sell it well enough, if I had it; but I must not be seen anywhere among my old acquaintance; for I am blown, and they will all betray me. But I will tell you where you shall go and sell it, if you will, and they will ask you no questions, if you give them the word that I will give you." So he gave me the word, and directions to a pawnbroker near Cloth Fair. The word was Good tower standard. Having these instructions, he said to me, "Colonel Jacque, I am sure you won't betray me; and I promise you, if I am taken, and should be hanged, I won't name you. I will go to such a house" (naming a house at Bromley, by Bow, where he and I had often been), "and there," says he, "I'll stay till it is dark. At night I will come near the streets, and I will lay under such a haystack all night" (a place we both knew also very well); "and if you cannot finish to come to me there, I will go back to Bow."

I went back and took the cargo, went to the place by Cloth Fair, and gave the word Good tower standard; and without any words, they took the plate, weighed it, and paid me after the rate of 2s. per ounce for it. So I came away and went to meet him, but it was too late to meet him at the first place; but I went to the haystack, and there I found him fast asleep.

I delivered him his cargo. What it really amounted to I knew not, for I never told it; but I went home to my quarters very late and tired. I went to sleep at first, but, notwithstanding I was so weary, I slept little or none for several hours. At last, being overcome with sleep, I dropped, but was immediately roused with noise of people knocking at the door, as if they would beat it down, and crying and calling out to the people of the house, "Rise, and let in the constable here. We come for your lodger in the garret."

I was frighted to the last degree, and started up in my bed; but when I was awaked I heard no noise at all, but of two watchmen thumping at the doors with their staves, and giving the hour, "Past three o'clock, and a rainy, wet morning" – for such it was. I was very glad when I found it was but a dream, and went to bed again, but was soon roused a second time with the same, very same noise and words. Then, being sooner awaked than I was before, I jumped out of bed and ran to the window, and found it was just an hour more, and the watchmen were come about: "Past four o'clock," and they went away again very quietly; so I lay me down again, and slept the rest of the night quietly enough.

I laid no stress upon the thing called a dream, neither till now did I understand that dreams were of any importance; but getting up the next day, and going out with a resolution to meet brother Will, who should I meet but my former brother, Captain Jacque. When he saw me, he came close to me in his blunt way, and says, "Do you hear the news?" "No, not I," said I; "what news?" "Your old comrade and teacher is taken this morning and carried to Newgate." "How," says I, "this morning?" "Yes," says he, "this morning at four o'clock. He is charged with a robbery and murder somewhere beyond Brentford; and that which is worse is, that he is impeached by one of the gang, who, to save his own life, has turned evidence; and therefore you had best consider," says the captain, "what you have to do." "What I have to do!" says I; "and what do you mean by that?" "Nay, colonel," says he, "don't be angry; you know best. If you are not in danger, I am glad of it, but I doubt not but you were with them." "No, not I," said I again; "I assure you I was not." "Well," says he, "but if you were not with them this bout, you have been with them at other times; and 'twill be all one." "Not I," says I; "you are quite mistaken. I am none of their gang; they are above my quality." With such, and a little more talk of that kind, we parted, and Captain Jacque went away; but as he went I observed he shook his head, seemed to have more concern upon him than he could be supposed to have merely on my account, of which we shall hear more very quickly.

I was extremely alarmed when I heard Will was in Newgate, and, had I known where to have gone, would certainly have fled as far as legs would have carried me. My very joints trembled, and I was ready to sink into the ground; and all that evening, and that night following, I was in the uttermost consternation. My head ran upon nothing but Newgate and the gallows, and being hanged; which, I said, I deserved, if it were for nothing but taking that two-and-twenty shillings from the poor old nurse.

The first thing my perplexed thoughts allowed me to take care of was my money. This indeed lay in a little compass, and I carried it generally all about me. I had got together, as you will perceive by the past account, above £60 (for I spent nothing), and what to do with it I knew not. At last it came into my head that I would go to my benefactor, the clerk at the custom-house, if he was to be found, and see if I could get him to take the rest of my money. The only business was to make a plausible story to him, that he might not wonder how I came by so much money.

But my invention quickly supplied that want. There was a suit of clothes at one of our houses of rendezvous, which was left there for any of the gang to put on, upon particular occasions, as a disguise. This was a green livery, laced with pink-coloured galloon, and lined with the same; an edged hat, a pair of boots, and a whip. I went and dressed myself up in this livery, and went to my gentleman, to his house in Tower Street, and there I found him in health and well, just the same honest gentleman as ever.

He stared at me when first I came to him, for I met him just at his door; I say, he stared at me, and seeing me bow and bow to him several times, with my laced hat under my arm, at last, not knowing me in the least, says he to me, "Dost thou want to speak with me, young man?" And I said, "Yes, sir; I believe your worship" (I had learnt some manners now) "does not know me. I am the poor boy Jacque." He looked hard at me, and then recollecting me presently, says he, "Who-Colonel Jacque! Why, where hast thou been all this while? Why, 'tis five or six years since I saw you." "'Tis above six years, and please your worship," says I.

"Well, and where hast thou been all this while?" says he.

"I have been in the country, sir," says I, "at service."

"Well, Colonel Jacque," says he, "you give long credit; what's the reason you han't fetched your money all this while, nor the interest? Why, you will grow so rich in time by the interest of your money, you won't know what to do with it."

To that I said nothing, but bowed and scraped a great many times. "Well, come, Colonel Jacque," said he, "come in and I will give you your money, and the interest of it too."

I cringed and bowed, and told him I did not come to him for my money; for I had had a good place or two, and I did not want my money.

"Well, Colonel Jacque," said he, "and who do you live with?"

"Sir Jonathan Loxham," said I, "sir, in Somersetshire, and please your worship." This was a name I had heard of, but knew nothing of any such gentleman, or of the country.

"Well," says he, "but won't you have your money, Jacque?"

"No, sir," said I, "if your worship would please, for I have had a good place."

"If I would please to do what, prithee? Your money is ready, I tell thee."

"No, sir," said I; "but I have had a good place."

"Well, and what dost thou mean, Jacque? I do not understand thee."

"Why, and please your worship, my old master, Sir Jonathan's father, left me £30 when he died, and a suit of mourning, and-"

"And what, prithee, Jacque? What, hast thou brought me more money?" For then he began to understand what I meant.

"Yes, sir," said I; "and your worship would be so good to take it, and put it all together. I have saved some, too, out of my wages."

"I told you, Jacque," says he, "you would be rich. And how much hast thou saved? Come, let me see it."

To shorten the story, I pulled it out, and he was content to take it, giving me his note, with interest, for the whole sum, which amounted to £94; that is to say,

£25 The first money. 9 For six years' interest. 60 Now paid him. _ £94

I came away exceeding joyful, made him abundance of bows and scrapes, and went immediately to shift my clothes again, with a resolution to run away from London and see it no more for a great while. But I was surprised the very next morning, when, going cross Rosemary Lane, by the end of the place which is called Rag Fair, I heard one call "Jacque." He had said something before, which I did not hear, but upon hearing the name Jacque I looked about me, immediately saw three men, and after them a constable coming towards me with great fury. I was in a great surprise, and started to run, but one of them clapped in upon me, and got hold of me, and in a moment the rest surrounded me, and I was taken. I asked them what they wanted, and what I had done. They told me it was no place to talk of that there, but showed me their warrant, and bade me read it, and I should know the rest when I came before the justice; so they hurried me away.

I took the warrant, but, to my great affliction, I could know nothing by that, for I could not read; so I desired them to read it, and they read it, that they were to apprehend a known thief, that went by the name of one of the three Jacques of Rag Fair; for that he was charged upon oath with having been a party in a notorious robbery, burglary, and murder, committed so and so, in such a place, and on such a day.

It was to no purpose for me to deny it, or to say I knew nothing of it; that was none of their business, they said; that must be disputed, they told me, before the justice, where I would find that it was sworn positively against me, and then, perhaps, I might be better satisfied.

I had no remedy but patience; and as my heart was full of terror and guilt, so I was ready to die with the weight of it as they carried me along. For as I very well knew that I was guilty of the first day's work, though I was not of the last, so I did not doubt but I should be sent to Newgate, and then I took it for granted I must be hanged; for to go to Newgate and to be hanged were to me as things which necessarily followed one another.

But I had a sharp conflict to go through before it came to that part; and that was before the justice; where, when I was come, and the constable brought me in, the justice asked me my name. "But hold," says he, "young man; before I ask you your name, let me do you justice. You are not bound to answer till your accusers come;" so, turning to the constable, he asked for his warrant.

"Well," says the justice, "you have brought this young man here by virtue of this warrant. Is this young man the person for whom this warrant is granted?"

Con. I believe so, and please your worship.

Just. Believe so! Why, are you not sure of it?

Con. An't please your worship, the people said so where I took him.

Just. It is a very particular kind of warrant; it is to apprehend a young man who goes by the name of Jacque, but no surname, only that it is said he is called Captain Jacque, or some other such name. Now, young man, pray is your name Captain Jacque? or are you usually called so?

I presently found that the men that took me knew nothing of me, and the constable had taken me up by hearsay; so I took heart, and told the justice that I thought, with submission, that it was not the present question what my name was, but what these men, or any one else, had to lay to my charge; whether I was the person who the warrant empowered them to apprehend or no.

He smiled. "'Tis very true, young man," says he, "it is very true; and, on my word, if they have taken you up, and do not know you, and there is nobody to charge you, they will be mistaken to their own damage."

Then I told his worship I hoped I should not be obliged to tell my name till my accuser was brought to charge me, and then I should not conceal my name.

"It is but reason," said his good worship. "Mr. Constable," turning to the officers, "are you sure this is the person that is intended in your warrant? If you are not, you must fetch the person that accuses him, and on whose oath the warrant was granted." They used many words to insinuate that I was the person, and that I knew it well enough, and that I should be obliged to tell my name.

I insisted on the unreasonableness of it, and that I should not be obliged to accuse myself: and the justice told them in so many words that he could not force me to it, that I might do it if I would, indeed; "but you see," says the justice, "he understood too well to be imposed upon in that case." So that, in short, after an hour's debating before his worship, in which time I pleaded against four of them, the justice told them they must produce the accuser, or he must discharge me.

I was greatly encouraged at this, and argued with the more vigour for myself. At length the accuser was brought, fettered as he was, from the gaol, and glad I was when I saw him, and found that I knew him not; that is to say, that it was not one of the two rogues that I went out with that night that we robbed the poor old woman.

When the prisoner was brought into the room he was set right against me.

"Do you know this young man?" says the justice.

"No, sir," says the prisoner; "I never saw him in my life."

"Hum!" says the justice; "did not you charge one that goes by the name of Jacque, or Captain Jacque, as concerned in the robbery and murder which you are in custody for?"

Pris. Yes, an't please your worship.

Just. And is this the man, or is he not?

Pris. This is not the man, sir; I never saw this man before.

"Very good, Mr. Constable," says the justice, "what must we do now?"

"I am surprised," says the constable. "I was at such a house" (naming the house), "and this young man went by. The people cried out, 'There's Jacque; that's your man;' and these people ran after him, and apprehended him."

"Well," says the justice, "and have these people anything to say to him? Can they prove that he is the person?"

One said no, and the other said no; and, in short, they all said no. "Why, then," said the justice, "what can be done? The young man must be discharged; and I must tell you, Mr. Constable, and you gentlemen that have brought him hither, he may give you trouble, if he thinks fit, for your being so rash. But look you, young man," says the justice, "you have no great damage done you, and the constable, though he has been mistaken, had no ill design, but to be faithful to his office. I think you may pass it by."

I told his worship I would readily pass it by at his direction, but I thought the constable and the rest could do no less than to go back to the place where they had insulted me, and declare publicly there that I was honourably acquitted, and that I was not the man. This his worship said was very reasonable, and the constable and his assistants promised to do it, and so we came all away good friends, and I was cleared with triumph.

Note. – This was the time that, as I mentioned above, the justice talked to me, and told me I was born to better things, and that by my well managing of my own defence, he did not question but I had been well educated; and that he was sorry I should fall into such a misfortune as this, which he hoped, however, would be no dishonour to me, since I was so handsomely acquitted.

Though his worship was mistaken in the matter of my education, yet it had this good effect upon me, that I resolved, if possible, I would learn to read and write, that I would not be such an uncapable creature, that I should not be able to read a warrant, and see whether I was the person to be apprehended or not.

But there was something more in all this than what I have taken notice of; for, in a word, it appeared plainly that my brother, Captain Jacque, who had the forwardness to put it to me whether I was among them or no, when in truth he was there himself, had the only reason to be afraid to fly, at the same time that he advised me to shift for myself.

As this presently occurred to my thoughts, so I made it my business to inquire and find him out, and to give him notice of it.

In the meantime, being now confident of my own safety, I had no more concern upon my mind about myself; but now I began to be anxious for poor Will, my master and tutor in wickedness, who was now fast by the heels in Newgate, while I was happily at liberty; and I wanted very much to go and see him, and accordingly did so.

I found him in a sad condition, loaden with heavy irons, and had himself no prospect or hope of escaping. He told me he should die, but bid me be easy; for, as it would do him no good to accuse me, who never was out with any of them but that once, so I might depend upon it he would not bring me into the trouble. As for the rogue who had betrayed them all, he was not able to hurt me, for I might be satisfied he had never seen me in his life. "But, Colonel Jacque," says he, "I will tell you who was with us, and that is, your brother the captain, and the villain has certainly named him; and, therefore," says he, "if you can give him timely notice of it, do, that he may make his escape."

He said a great many things to warn me off following the steps he had led me. "I was far out, Jacque," said he, "when I told you, to be a notorious thief was to live like a gentleman." He chiefly discovered his concern that they had, as he feared, killed the gentleman's gardener, and that he in particular had given him a wound in the neck, of which he was afraid he would die.

He had a great sum of money in gold about him, being the same that I had carried back to him at the haystack; and he had concealed it so well that those who took him had not found it, and he gave me the greatest part of it to carry to his mother, which I very honestly delivered, and came away with a heavy heart. Nor did I ever see him since, for he was executed in about three weeks' time after, being condemned that very next sessions.

I had nothing to do now but to find the captain, who, though not without some trouble, I at last got news of, and told him the whole story, and how I had been taken up for him by mistake, and was come off, but that the warrant was still out for him, and very strict search after him; I say, telling him all this, he presently discovered by his surprise that he was guilty, and after a few words more, told me plainly it was all true, that he was in the robbery, and that he had the greatest part of the booty in keeping, but what to do with it, or himself, he did not know; and wanted me to tell him, which I was very unfit to do, for I knew nothing of the world. Then he told me he had a mind to fly into Scotland, which was easy to be done, and asked me if I would go with him. I told him I would, with all my heart, if I had money enough to bear the charge. He had the trade still in his eyes by his answer. "I warrant you," says he, "we will make the journey pay our charge." "I dare not think of going any more upon the adventure," says I. "Besides, if we meet with any misfortune out of our knowledge, we shall never get out of it; we shall be undone." "Nay," says he; "we shall find no mercy here, if they can catch us, and they can do no worse abroad. I am for venturing at all events."