The lives of sundry notorious villains, memorable for their base and abominable actions together with a novel as it really happened at Roan in France.

CHAP. I. The Life of Capt. Lycaon, Gene∣ral of the Thieves.

WHen Rage and Despair seizeth on the spirit of a man, when he suffereth himself to be carried ••way by his blinde inclinations, there cannot be any thing seen in the world more furious and insolent. He huffs ••he Heavens, and defies the Destinies, and thinks that the Stars are obliged to ••im for their influence. The Earth ••eems not worthy to bear him, nor the Ocean large enough to retain him; and ••lows Fear on all that come neer him. His Words are claps of Thunder, and his Looks flashes of Lightning; and his Deliberations irrevocable Statutes. He

imagineth that the Mountains shoul•• crumble at his Presence, and is ambiti•• ous enough to perswade himself tha•• the Rivers should stop and make way for his passage. Such were the Rhodo•• montadoes of Capt. Lycaon, whom w•• may call by a fit title, The General o•• Thieves.

He was a Britain, born in the Isle o•• Narmontier, of noble Parents; but h•• degenerated from his Ancestors, wh•• ever kept the ways of Virtue. Whe•• scarce had he attained to the Fourteent•• or Fifteenth year of his age, but h•• made appear the fierce marks of hi•• Courage in the Army. Nothing dur•• oppose it self to his fury, and seemed t•• ••evour already with his eyes, thos•• who looked on him; which made peo•• ple say, that he was not a man, but 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Monster spewed out upon the eart•• from the depths of Hell, to commi•• those Outrages. His Parents, as peo∣ple of reputation, were astonished 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his dayly Exorbitancies: for when 〈◊〉〈◊〉

Childe, he was continually a beating his Companions: but above all, they durst not leave him alone, by reason of his natural inclinations to steal. In the mean time the War breaking out in France, and Lycaon being now at years of maturity, and naturally licentious, could not endure the threatning taunts of his Parents, wherefore he resolves to leave them and follow the Wars, that he might have his boundless hu∣mour.

As he was ready to depart, he was a long time deliberating under what Par∣ty he should serve. In the end he be∣took himself to the Duke de Mercoeur; where, a certain desire of making him∣self considerable inflaming him, he would be always in the most difficult Enterprize, despising all dangers, and casting himself in the midst of Fire and Swords, and massacring all before him: So that in a little time he became fa∣mous for his Valour, which made him be taken notice of by the Commanders;

who seeing his port, his mein, &c. a•• an excellent Souldier, gave him th•• command of a Company: which charg•• he acquitted with no small glory, pro•• mising himself a perpetual series of Wa•• and Dissentions.

But the Heavens are not always ar•• med with Thunders against mortal•• which the unthought-of event plainl•• shewed, scattering in an instant th•• Tempest (by an happy Accommodation) which threatned the subversion of the whole Kingdom of France. So tha•• Lycaon thereupon being out of employ•• his hopes vanisht with the cessation o•• the Wars; which made him (as 〈◊〉〈◊〉 man despairing) betake himself to the Woods, from whence he might rifle the innocent Passenger.

And being a man highly pris'd for his daring Courage, he failed not of com∣pany, being followed by his two Bro∣thers, who were resolved to stand by him with their lives and fortunes. And having gathered together the Scum of

Poictou, Britain, and other places, he ••ound himself accompani'd with neer Four hundred men, who breathed no∣thing but blood and cruelty. He began, before he enterprized any thing, to build a Fortress within the Forest of Machecoust, it being a solitary place, and far remote from any road or path.

It is impossible to relate the diligence they used in making and fortifying this their Castle: for his Banditi being as desirous to preserve their Prey as to get it, work'd day and night till they had finisht it. Which done, they di∣vide into bands, and begin to range and ransack not onely the Countries there∣abouts, but the whole Kingdom of France.

The people were not a little astoni∣shed at the Robberies and Murthers committed every day about them, and yet could not imagine whence this De∣luge proceeded.

It were impossible to relate all the

outrages which these Villains committe•• in Poictou, Saintoigne, Aulnis, Normandy and Britain. The overflowings of R•• vers, the breaking down of Sluces, no•• the most tempestuous weather, did eve•• half so much mischief to the standing Corn, as these rogues did to those whos•• unhappy fortune caused their rencoun•• ter. For they wanted not for Arms ei∣ther offensive or defensive, neither skill coming so lately from the Army, to use them. They would be sometimes i•• the habit of Merchants, and sometimes like Gentlemen; other times like the Sheriffs Officers in Liveries, vaulting and ranging for a hundred miles about, spa∣ring not the lives of any whom they thought had money.

As for Lycaon, he seldom went but well accompani'd, and exceedingly well mounted, for fear of surprizal.

But it hapned that one day he parted from his Fortress alone, (his people being gone out in the Country for Fo∣rage) and took the great road which

leads to Nantes, where he hid himself in ••he thickest part of a Wood along the way-side, and there lay two hours, till ••t last there passed by an honest Coun∣try-man, one who seemed by his looks not to travel without money: Where∣fore Lycaon arises and accosts him; and having understood by him that he went to Nantes about a Law-suit—Thou hast certainly money then, replied Lycaon; for they to whom thou addressest thy self will do nothing without it. The good man perceiving that he was overtaken, would willingly have recall'd his words again, pretending that he had but Six pence or a shilling about him to pay for his Dinner. And truly for my part, re∣plied the other, I am far from being o∣verladen; yet howsoever I trust so much in our good God, that if we heartily pray to him, he will not fail to send us some.

Notwithstanding which discourse, the Country-man failed not to put on his way as fast as he could, and to gain ground; but Lycaon had something

more to say to him before he parted wit•• him: wherefore he asks him whethe•• he had no more money than that smal•• sum he last mentioned. To which the other repli'd, That he used not to se•• out with money, it being not onely i•• danger of being lost upon the road, bu•• our lives too with it. But Lycaon for all that, commanded him to fall to pray∣ers, and see what the event would be; and at the same time draws out of his pocket a little Manual, and falls on his knees, constraining the Country-man to do the like: but he knew not what to infer from these mysteries, and would willingly have been in another place to make his Orisons; for his devotion was much abated by his fear: yet notwith∣standing he was forced to kneel down and wait the issue of this pious adven∣ture.

When Lycaon had mumbled three or four words betwixt his teeth, feigning an extraordinary devotion, he enquires of the Country-man how it fared with

him, telling him withal, that Heaven was not ungrateful to the pious addres∣ses of devout Petitioners; wherefore he bid him feel in his pockets, that they might see what God had sent him; which the Country-man did, but could finde nothing: upon which Lycaon fee∣ling in his own pockets, pulls out Five pence, telling him withal, that for cer∣tain he prayed not heartily, that 'twas expedient for him that he prayed again; shewing him, that if he looked directly towards Heaven, he needed not fear, nay it could not be otherwise but he must get something as well as he: whereupon he pulls again out of his pocket Ten pence, and still the other could not finde any thing in his; and was rather for praying that there might not be any thing found there, than that there should. To make short, Lycaon fell to prayers again the third time, and produced a Five-shilling-piece; and seeing that the Country-man was still upon the negative, he told him, That

one of these two things must needs b•• that either he did not pray with Ze•• and Devotion, or else he would no•• let him know how liberal Heaven ha•• been in his behalf: For; saith he, how else can it come to pass that my Prayer•• should be rather heard than yours? for if you pray (continued he) with as much spiritual heat as you outwardly make shew of, it must needs be that by this time you have gained considerably: Wherefore, saies he, I am resolved to see the experience of this: And so saying, he puts his hands in the mans pockets (for it was to no purpose for him to resist) and found there Ten pieces of Gold; at which they were both amazed, the one seemingly for the liberality of Heaven, and the other for the loss of his money. Yet notwith∣standing Lycaon dealt with him better than he expected, returning him the one half of his money with these words back again: What! saith he, you would have cheated me, and would not let me

share with you (though your Companion.) Is this the compact? this the agreement we made before we set to prayers? Good Lord, how few are the just upon the earth! And yet notwithstanding this thy churlish humour, I will not be as un∣grateful as thou art, for look you, here is half of what Heaven hath sent me; wherefore you have no reason to com∣plain: now indeed you might, if I shared with you in your acquisition, and not you with me. And so the poor Country-man was pleasantly wheedled out of his money: for Lycaon robbed a man of two or three hundred crowns as if it were really a sport or pastime, so small a sum was that with him.

As soon as ever there was any Fair, though never so far off, he was sure to be at it in disguise, that he might with less suspition observe the business of each person there concerned, to the end that at their return homewards he might set upon them.

But as he skulked up and down with

his Companions, he had notice that th•• Provost of Roan with his men were i•• quest of him, and that they had inten∣tions of besetting the Forest of Morse∣mont, where he then was; which made him stand on his guard, but could not make him lose his undaunted courage: Wherefore he rallies his Troop, and withdraws into the thickest of the Fo∣rest, to a place judged by him the most advantageous; and having left Orders, he sends out Scouts: but thinking it not safe to trust to Spies in a case of such concernment, he puts on a Canvass doublet and breeches, Wooden shoos on his feet, and a Steeple-crown'd hat on his head, and so draws neer them; where observing them not to be equal with him in strength, he returns back to his Companions, makes them stand to their Arms, and so encourages them by his words and example, that in set∣ting upon them, as they did immediate∣ly, they were presently routed; whom they so neerly pursued, that Seven of

them were taken Prisoners; from whom having taken their Livery-coats, they hang'd them on several Trees in the most solitary places of the Forest, their Habits serving afterwards to execute sundry Villanies.

For going one night to a Castle not far off the Forest, he commanded the gates in the Kings name to be set open to him, saying, for a pretence, That Lycaon and his Companions had hid themselves there; which Order was o∣beyed without the least suspition of what happened afterwards. Lycaon made as if he would search every where for Thieves, bustling in all corners of the house with the greatest eagerness ima∣ginable; but at last he would needs have it that the Thieves were hid in the Trunks: wherefore he caused the keys without any more ado to be brought him, and having loaded himself and Companions with every thing of con∣siderable value, he returns with his Booty to the Forest.

In the mean time the Lord of the Castle findes himself not a little moved with just indignation, that he should be thus robbed, thinking that the Provosts men, under pretence of looking for Thieves, had thus pillaged his Castle: Whereupon he makes his Address to the Parliament of Roan, giving them an account by whom he thought himself thus robbed; who presently gave order for the examination of the Provosts Of∣ficers, and being put on the Rack, the torments thereof made them confess that whereof they were never guilty: so that there was one of them hanged, to see what effects that would work on the rest.

The Provost of Roan being justly in∣censed against Lycaon, as well for this as other his villanies, resolved to be re∣venged at any rate: which Lycaon having got notice of, caused his men to retreat into the Forest of Machecou, the usual place of their Rendezvouz. He in the mean time staid alone there,

where he was informed they would attack him, having notice likewise of the very hour when they would give their intended Onset; which fell out punctually according to his expectati∣on: Wherefore seeing them, he makes up towards them in the habit of a Peasant, mounted upon a most piteous beast, and who to look on was not worth two pence, without either bridle or saddle, having onely a Sack under him, and a great greazie Hat on. And thus accou∣tred he meets the Provost, who deman∣ded of him whence he came, and what he had seen. He made answer, That for his, part he met nobody; but told him, there was great talk of robbing, and especially of one call'd Lycaon, a very naughty fellow, and one who did much mischief to the Country. They asked him moreover where he went, and what was his business; and being told he was going to buy Corn a•• Roan, they dismist him.

Going on he met with other Officers,

who made a second Band, who dema•• ded of him whether he had spoken wit•• the Provost; and having received an∣swer Yes, they bad him rudely pass on but he stopping a little, pulls out from under his skirts two Pistols, and dischar∣ges them backwards under his arms a∣mongst the Officers, and shot two of them off their horses; imitating in this the Parthians, who are said to have routed whole Armies flying; bidding them withal remember that they had met Ly∣caon: which having said, his Hackney began to cut the air with such swiftness, that it seemed to them he was rather carried by the Devil than a Horse. He was howsoever pursued by them, though but to little purpose, notwithstanding the worst of them seemed to be better mounted than he was: But he on the other side made a pastime of their pur∣suit of him; for he sometimes appeared neer them, and sometimes a great way off; sometimes on one side of them, and sometimes in the middle of them: and

this continued till night constrained ••hem to retire, leaving them nothing ••fter all their coursing but a phantasm ••r shadow.

Being one day in his Fortress, the Provost of Nantes assembled all the Of∣ficers of the neighbouring Cities, tel∣••ing them that for certain Lycaon this ••out could not escape their hands; and ••ndeed the designe was carried on so well (it being at a time when he was least accompani'd) that they did sur∣prize him.

He saw the danger he was in, but could not see the means to escape it. But howsoever, being instigated by rage and despair rather than discretion, he brought those about him into resoluti∣ons of fighting; who came with such fury on the Officers, although their number was not at all answerable to the others, that they forced them, in spight of their teeths, to give ground: but this first shock being past over, they were so be∣set on every side, that Lycaon, being

left engaged in the midst of them, w•• taken. But whilst the others were i•• pursuit of his scattered Crew, he per∣ceiving that he was guarded but by two presently purposes an Escape, which h•• effects after this manner: Having o•• purpose dropt his Handkerchief, he en∣treats him that held his right arm t•• suffer him to stoop to take it up; where∣upon he pulls a Poingard out of his poc∣ket, and strikes it into the belly of the Provost, who stood just by him. The Officers seeing that blow given, would needs bear up their Master, being so mortally wounded that he could not stand; leaving Lycaon for that purpose, who presently made use of his time, leaping on one of their Horses, and fin∣ding a Pistol by the Saddle-side, pulls it out, and shoots one of them dead on the place, and makes his escape. His brother, who fled with the rest, hearing that he was taken, resolves to die in the midst of them, rather than so leave him: wherefore he rallied his scattered Com∣panions,

and throws himself in the midst of his Enemies, thinking his brother had been amongst them; cursing and ban∣••ing, that if they kept him any longer, he would make them rue it. But so far was he transported by these Rhodomon∣••adoes, that he was not aware of his be∣ing surrounded by them; who so far overpowered him, that he was taken and carried to Nantes; where two or three days after he was with three or four of his Companions broken on the Wheel.

This business did not a little scare the other Thieves, although that they had Lycaon still left for their Captain, this being but their Lieutenant; yet howso∣ever, he was a man of great prudence in Counsels, ready at dispatch, bloody and cruel; which are all qualities requi∣site in a notable Villain.

Lycaon looses not, for all this, his courage (if a man may term that cou∣rage which is in such persons) but get∣ting together his dispersed Companions,

he withdraws into the Forest and co•• tinues his former courses, without 〈◊〉〈◊〉 membring his brother's miserable en•• who was executed in the sight of all th•• Gentry of his Country.

One day one of the gang, bein•• known at Marche Pontoise by two Me•• chants, was laid hold on, brought t•• tryal, and condemned to be broken o•• the Wheel; which was accordingly executed.

As the Hangman of Pontoise went t•• do execution upon some Malefactors i•• an adjoyning City, he met Lycaon clo∣thed in all points like a Merchant, who demanded of him what news at Pon∣toise, and whether it were safe travel∣ling: To which the Executioner made answer, that indeed there had been, and that not without cause, great talk o•• Thieves, and especially a great Rogue named Lycaon; but that now, thank•• God, the number of his accomplices was diminished, he coming just now from putting one of them on the Wheel.

O then, cried Lycaon, you are the ••angman of Pontoise! I am very glad 〈◊〉〈◊〉 have met with you; for you can with∣••t doubt tell me something which is ••alked of concerning this wicked crea∣••ure.

They had not long travelled together ••efore they enter'd a Wood, where Lycaon having whistled half a dozen ••imes, saw himself attended with ten or ••welve of his Companions: the Hang∣man notwithstanding kept his counte∣••ance, and would never have been per∣••waded that he was in the midst of a company of Thieves, and so neer him whom he so much blamed.

Lycaon having made him relate again the Execution which he came from do∣ing upon one of their Companions, and this Bravo vapouring and swearing that ••he would upon that account, with all ••his heart, travel through the whole Kingdom of France, he was immediately laid hold on by two of the sturdiest Rogues of that Crew; who told him,

That seeing by mishap that there was no conveniencie to break him on the Wheel, he must be content with hang∣ing. Whereupon, without any other form of process, they take the poo•• Hangman, and tie him up with their garters to the boughs of a Tree, and dis∣patch him.

Another time he would have entred by force the Castle of St. Hermine and Marveil; but the Lord of it having gotten notice by some means or other of his intentions, got together all the Gentlemen thereabouts to assist him, laying an Ambuscade of neer two hun∣dred men in the way by which he should pass: but as he was coming on, one of those who lay in wait for him, let fall his lighted Match in his pan, and so dis∣charged his Musket; at which being startled, sent out some before to know what was the matter; and having un∣derstood that there was an Ambush laid for him, he returns back, and was pur∣suid: wherefore having stopt at the

side of a Wood, he makes head against ••hem, casting himself amongst the thic∣kest, followed onely by Thirty Curias∣••es, and beats down all that withstood ••im: Yet notwithstanding, the Coun∣••ry people came in so fast upon them on; every side, that they were forced to Flie, and leave six or seven of their com∣pany kill'd and taken Prisoners behinde them; who two or three days after were broken on the Wheel at Bessay.

A while after this Encounter they took a Gentleman, who lived not far from thence, and having hood-wink'd him, they led him into their Fortress; where they shewed him all their Pro∣vision and Ammunition, their Mill with which they grinde their Corn, as also their Ovens, their great number of Muskets, of Pikes, Blunderbusses and Granadoes, their Field-pieces with their bullets, their Fortifications and Ditches, but above all, their Mines, Draw-brid∣ges, Gates, and Portcullices, and every thing else remarkable in this their Ca∣stle;

at which he was not a little asto•• nisht, thinking that he was all this whil•• in a dream.

At last they conducted him into thei•• common Hall, which was richly hun•• all-over with Spanish Leather whic•• they had taken out of a Vessel on th•• Sea neer the sands of Anlonne, (for thei•• Robberies extended as well upon the Sea as at Land) where, after being trea∣ted with a most magnificent Collation•• served up all in Plate, they again hood∣wink him, and carry him back again to the place whence they took him up, without any hurt.

The people of Britain and the low Poicton, daring not to travel, made their complaints to the Magistrates; but all the business was, to know where to finde him: for one day he was seen about Nantes and Rennes, and two hours after about Dieppe and Roan; so that the common people lookt upon him as an Enchanter.

There was order howsoever given to

Monsieur Parabelle, Governour of ••iort, and to all the Officers of the ••eighbouring Cities, that they should ••eet together, & march directly, being ••onducted by the Gentleman afore∣••poken of, to the Forest of Machecoust, with the greatest haste and secrecie that might be. There was besides the Provosts, who were about Sixteen or Eighteen of them, with their Officers, several others, who voluntarily joyn∣ed themselves with them, to the num∣ber of 4000 men, who were guided all of them by the person who had been before in the Fortress.

Lycaon was not a little astonisht in seeing such a multitude round about him, who had begirt the place, and planted several Field-pieces against it: wherefore he encourages his men, who were to the number of 300, to make a sally out upon them; for to keep within there, was certainly to perish. But alas, this their first Onset was too furious to last long; for being

overpowered by such multitudes, they began to fall down on every side.

Lycaon thinking to break through all, was at length, with several of hi•• Crew who stood by him to the last, beaten down and taken, and was car∣ried to Saincte; where, after the Rack, he was broken on the Wheel dying with such an admirable Con∣stancie, that all the Spectators, though before they never so much hated him, were more concerned for him than he seemed to be for himself.

CHAP. II. The Life and Death of Arpalin, a notorious Villain.

I Am very sensible how difficult a thing it would be here to take notice of all the Tricks and Subtleties of this Rascal, whose Life I intend now to write; wherefore I shall content my self with an Account of some of the most remarkable Actions of it.

This person made himself be called Arpalin; and was born, as far as we could learn by our enquiries, in a lit∣tle Village betwixt Savoy and Dau∣phiné. He was from a Childe so gi∣ven to the base vice of Stealing, that whatsoever he touched stuck to his fingers; and was wont, the better to carry on his Villanies, to change him∣self

into as many shapes as Prote•• being a man that so well understoo•• the world, I mean the Tricks and Fa•• lacies of it, that he could humour a•• thing, there being no part that ca•• amiss to him. And for as much as 〈◊〉〈◊〉 could speak several Languages, he a•• commodated their use to his partic•• lar occasions: Sometimes minglin•• himself with a Crew of vagabon•• Rogues, whom we call Gypsies, h•• with great applause practised all thei•• tricks of Legerdemain, and passé passé being an excellent Rope-dancer, an•• one who tumbled, and told Fortunes•• to the admiration of all that saw an•• heard him. In short, we may we•• believe this, seeing they of his ow•• trade took him for an accomplish•• Artist.

And with these Tatterdemallion•• Ingeniosoes, he ran up and dow•• throughout all Fairs and Concourse•• of people in France and elsewhere; changing continually his Post and

Fashion, and seldom making use twice 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the same invention. To day he ••as a Merchant, to morrow a Souldier, ••e next day a Gentleman, the next ••ay after a Begger. In a word, he ••as every day what he pleased him∣••elf.

Moreover, in what part of the ••orld soever he was in, he said he ••as of all Trades and of all Coun∣••ries: So that in the company of Han∣••licrafts-men, of Fencers, and Sea∣men, he was all three together; and in the company of Germans, Italians, and Spaniards, he was, he told them, of each of their particular Coun∣tries.

He was wont, when he had done any signal Roguery, to cover his body all-over with stinking Sear-cloaths and Ointments, and his face with Plaisters; so that it was impossible for his own Mother to know him. Some∣times he was a blinde Harper, other times, forsooth, you might see him

swinging himself on Crutches: Som•• times he fastened artificial Arms to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 body, whilst that in the Church 〈◊〉〈◊〉 made use of natural ones to cut Purs••

After he had acted over all the•• parts in a Town or City, he the•• shifts to another, or else he made hi•• self be admired as a man of anothe•• world, coming from the Antipodes giving people to understand, that h•• was chief Physician to the Great Mo•• gul, and King of Persia: and as such 〈◊〉〈◊〉 one he mounted the Stage, being in al•• points indeed a most accomplish'•• Mountebank, no Disease coming a•• miss to him, curing the incurable•• Galen, Hippocrates, Paracelsus, and Ponteus, and all the learned Rabble•• were men that might have put them∣selves to him as Apprentices: In short, another Aesculapius. Upon the Stage he so charmed the people into asto∣nishment with his babble, that he made them buy off amain his Drugs; and gave his Comrades opportunity

to draw out the Quintessence of their ••ockets.

He in the meant time, forsooth, continuing, for the Publick good, to trumpet forth the marvellous secrets of his Medicines; but above all, pro∣mising them strange things, if they would take the pains to come to con∣fer with him at his Chamber, as in effect he did to those who came there, shewing them, to their cost, that his fellow was as yet unborn. For Oc∣cult Philosophy, for a full knowledge of the utmost Effects of Art and Na∣ture, and for his sharp insight in the Mysteries of the Superiour bodies; but above all, for an intire command of the Infernal Spirits, no mortal could ever yet attain to such bound∣less ability: For then discovering himself to them with a thousand In∣junctions of secrecy, he offered to sell them familiar Spirits, to shew them Spectrums and Demons in glasses. To the Covetous he would promise,

for such a sum of money paid down t•• him before-hand, to teach them to dis∣cover Golden Mines; and to kinde∣hearted Maidens, their as kinde Sweet∣hearts; and to Fops and ingenious Triflers, the Philosophers Stone.

In the mean time he never so much forgot himself amongst all these pas∣times, but he ever remembred his bu∣siness, which was to get money.

It happened that being one day strayed from his Gang, for it was he from whom the story takes its rise, he on purpose put himself into the hands of a Thief; who not knowing him, as soon as ever he saw him, comes up to him and claps a Pistol to his breast, telling him, he must deliver his mo∣ney: which Order Arpalin was forced to obey; but desired him withal, that seeing he gave it him without resi∣stance, and lest his Master should think, whose money it was, that he parted from it without blows, he would do him the favour to discharge

his Pistol at his Hat and shoot through ••t: which having done, and Arpalin ••bserving that they were in all points ••rmed alike, claps his hand to his ••word, and so distresses the under∣graduate, that besides his own Purse which he had again, he makes the other intrust him with the office of being his Purse-bearer too.

Now as his Gang were made up of several sorts of Artists, so he made se∣veral uses of them according as he per∣ceived which way every mans par∣ticular talent lay. Some of them be∣ing excellent at making false Keys and Betties, he would never suffer them to want employment. Others were ingenious at wrenching off of Locks, at making Deaf Files, which wasted the iron without noise, making the strongest fastened door give way for their passage.

Arpalin having for a long time li∣ved after this manner, and ranged with great success throughout the best

Cities of Europe, arrived at last agai•• with his Attendants at Paris, whe•• they went, according to their usu•• manner, each man to his particula•• Lodging: but forasmuch as Arpali•• as their chief had ever the principa•• part to act, he lodged himself on pur∣pose at a noted house of entertain∣ment for strangers, where he soon in∣sinuated himself amongst them, ma∣king them believe that he was like∣wise a stranger, and came to Paris for no other reason but onely to see the Town, and frequent honest Conver∣sations. And as he had a notable way with him to conceal his intenti∣ons, so he trapt these strangers with such specious pretences, that it was impossible for them to take him for any other than the best-natured man living. Sometimes he would carry them out along with him to Supper, not suffering them to pay a farthing; but onely at their return homewards, were certainly robbed by fellows

planted expressly by him, who took from him his Cloak first, to take away all suspition; and in the morning he was sure to have it again, and with it the greatest share in the Booty.

Sometimes he would carry six or seven of those strangers to the Play∣house, where he would pay for them; but then he failed not to place them among his Accomplices, whom he had on purpose sent there before∣hand, who never let them go till they had pickt their pockets. A certain Dutch-man hapning into Arpalin's company, and having found his poc∣kets pickt of all the money he had a∣bout him save one Guiney, he told them neer him, that he was resolved that they that got the others should not get that too; whereupon he claps it in his mouth: Which being observed by him that had before dealt with him, You shall lye, said he softly to himself, in spight of your teeth, for all your security: And at the same

time he follows his man, being ac∣company'd with other Rogues whom he had acquainted with his intention Wherefore he making as if he would have pulled out his Handkerchief, let fall on purpose on the ground a con∣siderable quantity both of Gold and Silver, which he prayed the by-stan∣ders to gather up for him; when ob∣serving the Dutch-man as well as o∣thers stoop to help him, one of his confederates, to whom he had tipt the wink, began to cry out Thief; saying, that the Dutch-man instead of retur∣ning the money which he had taken up, had, that he might the better con∣ceal it, hid a piece in his mouth: which so moved the assistants, that they all immediately fell upon him, so beating and kicking of him, that they made him return it again to him whom they thought the right owner.

These were some of the many in∣ventions he made use of: for should we relate them all, they would be suf∣ficient

to make a book of themselves. Wherefore we shall onely take notice of one act more of his perfidiousness, and so hasten to give you an account of his end.

Having heard one day that there was some persons to be executed at La Greve, the apprehension which he had lest there should be some of his Companions amongst them, made him hasten thither; where amongst the erowd he singles out a young man, well clad, and of a good mein, named Florizard, and enquiring of him what one of the Prisoners had done, whom he pointed out, He hath killed, an∣swered Florizard, my Lord D'Alize, a man of great esteem at Court, as well for his birth as excellent qualities; and the common report is, that he went even to his bed and there stran∣gled him. At which words Arpalin smiling cri'd out, that he was a silly Rascal to suffer himself to be taken. For my part, continued he, should I

ever have occasion to do the like, I de∣fie the taking of me. Florizard a•• these words lookt stedfastly on Arpa∣lin, and observing in him the coun∣tenance of a man that dared any thing▪ You seem to me, saies he, to be a per∣son that would not baulk an adven∣ture because dangerous: but the busi∣ness which I shall propose to your con∣sideration, may be effected with small hazard, provided you be secret, and follow my directions. These words at first startled our bold undertaker, as having never before had any com∣merce with the proposer: Yet not∣withstanding he fails not of giving him attention; telling him withal (that he might the better sound him) That if he had any thing of concern∣ment to acquaint him with, they should withdraw, and discourse toge∣ther without witnesses. In saying which, they both walk out of the Crowd, and Florizard carries his new Acquaintance to a Tavern where he

was used to frequent; and there ha∣ving conveniently seated themselves and drank a round or two, offers him, on the part of his Master, a Person of Quality, Five hundred Guineys, if he would undertake to murther an an∣cient man, whom he named to him. Arpalin likes his proposals, and pro∣mises him his man dead at midnight: Upon which promise Florizard gives him One hundred pieces in earnest, with a promise of the rest when he had done his work. They part thereup∣on, and Arpalin goes immediately to one of his Comrades, named le Bala∣fré, a man full of wicked resolutions, and ready at all times to execute the most horrid villanies; to whom he communicates his designe and Fifty pieces, half of that which he had re∣ceived, and agree together concerning the manner of the Murther. Where∣fore at Eleven a clock in the night they go to the ancient man's house, and finding the gates shut, they with their

Betties and other Instruments got them open and entered, and having with them a Dark-lanthorn, they go softly up stairs, and finding the old man a bed, they most inhumanely murther him: Which having done, they put him in a Sack and carry him, each of them by turns, directly to the place where Florizard had appointed them. And having received the rest of the money, they together dig a hole and throw the Corpse in it: Which they had no sooner done, but these two wretches, fearing least Flo∣rizard should at some time or other discover them, fell upon him likewise and killed him, throwing him in the same hole with the other. And at the same time Arpalin, whether begin∣ning to mistrust Balafré, or being de∣••ous to have all the money to him∣self, yet so it was, that he sets upon him unawares, and treats him as the two others, covering him with earth in the same place, and so departs.

After this and many other Tragical Actions, he retreats (being weary with running up and down the world) ••nto one of the best Cities of Dauphiné, where giving himself more than ever ••o wickedness and debaucherie, the Divine Justice, which slept not, over∣••ook him: For it hapning that some fellows being taken for a Robbery by them committed, accused him also of sundry Villanies, which they, as his Companions, knew he had been guil∣ty of: wherefore being once laid hold on, there came in so many witnesses against him, that for all his tricks and inventions he was sentenced to be hanged, and bear them company; which Sentence was accordingly exe∣cuted, he marching to the place of Execution with the same undaunted and resolute countenance as he was observed to have in his life-time.

CHAP. III. The Life and Death of la Ch••∣nay, a famous Villain

LAChénay was born of honest Pa∣rents, who took all possible can that this their Son might be brough•• up as beseemed a man sprung from 〈◊〉〈◊〉 good a Family; but he would neve•• hearken to their wholsome counsels but was resolved to break through a•• virtuous sentiments, and wholly t•• betake himself to all manner of wic∣kedness. Wherefore having watch'd an opportunitie, he takes what mo∣neys he could light of in his Father'•• house, and departs, glad that he migh•• now range the world with liberty resolving with himself (being natu∣rally cruel, and one who could with

as little horrour dip his hands in bloud as in water) to commit every thing that his Lust should suggest to him; and in a short time made himself so remarkable for his Villanies, that there came several Rogues to enroll themselves under his Standart, as to a man that wanted neither resolution to undertake, nor skill to perform the most hazardous Enterprizes. And the Discipline and Trial which he put them upon who thus came to him, is not the least considerable: for he was wont to lock them up for two days together in a Chamber, without ei∣ther eating or drinking; and to make them lie out three or four nights bare∣headed in the open air, that he might the better know who were fit for his purpose.

One Winter-night, when the wea∣ther was so unpleasant, by reason of Fogs, Hail, and Snow, that no body cared to stir out of their Lodgings, he divided his Crew into three Bands, and

planted them on the Pont-neuf in Pa∣ris, for it was there as in his proper sphere, where he moved himself.

When it happening that a Coun∣trie Attorney, well mounted and ac∣coutred, was about passing over the Bridge on that side where lies Dau∣phiné-street, but scarcely had he set foot upon it, but he saw himself im∣mediately beset with six Thieves; who with horrid Oaths and Impreca∣tions, charged him to alight off his horse, and make no words on't, for if he did, they would throw him over in∣to the River: which, what with their Oaths and Curses, together with the coldness of the weather, so chilled the poor Lawyer, that he could not, if he would, have spoken a word for trem∣bling. When la Chénay comes up to him, as being their Captain, and sets a Pistol to his breast, commanding him without delay to deliver his money; which the other, thinking so to be rid of them, immediately did, putting his

foot in the stirrop, and hoping now ••hat he might pass on freely: when presently comes up a Rascal to him, pretending himself so lame by a fall ••e lately had gotten, that he could not go home a foot, wherefore he must needs borrow his horse of him; which the other was forced to alight off and lend him; and so with much ado gets from them, rejoycing how∣soever that he had now past, as he thought, all danger: When loe, sud∣denly as he came up to le Cheval de Bronze, he was again surrounded with a parcel of Rogues, who viewing him neerly, demanded whence he came, and where he was going: to whom he related his piteous adven∣ture, and into what cruel hands he had fallen. How, cruel! answered one of the gang, how durst you use these terms? and who made you so bold as to pass the Cheval de Bronze, without pulling off your hat? Pray, Sir, be pleased henceforwards to learn

more manners. Which saying, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 snatcheth his Beaver off his head, an•• a Diamond-ring off his finger value•• at neer Two hundred crowns. Wha•• could our poor Gentleman do? to re∣turn back again, was, To leap out of th•• Frying-pan (as we say) into the fire•• wherefore he faintly puts on. Whe•• scarce had he got to the Samaritane but the third Band, who lay as Sentine•• in this place, make up to him, bringing along with them a man who had not 〈◊〉〈◊〉 rag of cloaths on his back but his shirt (a dreadful thing, considering the tim•• of the year, it being in the depth o•• Winter:) Sir, said one of them, wh•• seemed to be the eldest of the com∣pany, you will do a charitable deed t•• let this poor wretch have your Cloak•• who you see hath nothing to cover him being almost dead with cold. Th•• Lawyer would willingly have pleade•• that Charity begins at home, and tha•• every man is bound by the Laws o•• Nature to conserve his own being ra∣ther

than anothers: but alas, his Cli∣••ts were other kind of men than to ••e moved by the Laws of the Land or ••f Nature either; wherefore they ••ke from him his Cloak, telling him, ••at it was a favour that they took ••ot from him his life also, seeing he ••ade so bad use of it.

Not long after this, la Chénay so ••rought on a Lacquey by fair words, ••nd some small gratuity, that he dis∣••overed to him all the concerns of ••is Master's house: upon which in∣••ormation he commands one of his ••ogues, who attended him, to go ••o this Gentleman and offer him his ••ervice; which the other so plausibly ••erformed, that with la Chénay's re∣••ommendation, (who pretended him∣••elf a person of quality) he was with∣••ut any further enquiry received into ••e house: Where he had not been ••ong, but he gets the Keys and im∣••rints them in Past, giving the print ••f them to la Chénay, who presently

orders a Lock-smith to counterfe•• them: which being done, they expe•• the Gentleman's going into the Cou••∣try; which he soon after did, to house of his pleasantly seated ne•• Pontoise: of which having receive•• notice, immediately the next nig•• they beset the house, and with the•• false Keys and other Instruments, for•• their passage. When no sooner ha•• they gotten in, but they presentl•• make up to the Closet where the•• had information the Money lay, b•• by chance there was none there: b•• in revenge they entred into the nex•• Chamber, where having broke open•• great Trunk, they took out of it 〈◊〉〈◊〉 much Plate as was worth Five hun∣dred pounds, and were just readie t•• go out, when the Master of the hous•• with two Lacqueys, enters, returnin•• sick from the Countrie; at whic•• our Rascals were not a little suprize•• knowing not what course to take for, to make out with their Bootie, w••

t•• attempt that which was almost ••possible. Wherefore they hid them∣••lves as well as they could; but the ••ischief on it was, that they happen∣•• into the Chamber where the Lac∣••eys lay, and there hid themselves, ••me under the Beds, others behinde ••upboards, and in corners of the ••ooms whithersoever they could as ••ey thought with conveniencie be∣••ow themselves.

The Master of the house not know∣••g any thing at all of what had hap∣••ened, goes to bed: There was heard ••ndeed some kinde of noise, but they ••ould not mistrust Thieves, seeing ••hat they found the doors lockt as ••hey left them.

After the Lacqueys had gotten in∣••o their Chamber and were asleep, ••hey under the bed first creep out in∣••o another Chamber next the street; where they cut the bed-cloaths into ••lips, fastening them to the window, and so slid down. La Chénay and one

more remained alone, that they might let down the Bootie; when it came presently into la Chénay's minde that he had left his Pistol on the Table in the Chamber where the Lacquey•• lay, and being not willing to loose i•• he, like Aesop's Dog, instead of get∣ting two pieces of flesh, lost that which he had alreadie in his jaws. For going in to fetch it, he had no sooner laid his hand on it, but it pre∣sently (having a very easie Spring discharges, and awakened them 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the house, who immediately put them∣selves into a posture of defence. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Chénay flies presently to the window and first offers to slide down, when scarcely had he got half-way, but the knots wherewith the Cloaths were tied slipt, and he falls on the ground He received not so much hurt, but that he made a shift to scramble to his Companions, and give them notice of the danger. The other who was left behinde in the Chamber, was as

man amazed, seeing himself alone ••ree stories high, without any possi∣••lity of following his Companions; ••t he was quickly put out of doubt ••w to dispose of himself: the folks 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the house, with Halberts and other ••rms, coming soon into the Chamber ••here he was, with their Master, who ••d also taken the Alarm, believing ••e whole house to be full of Thieves; ••t having after much search found ••one but this man, after severe cudgel∣••g of him, they shut him up in at∣••ndance of the morning. When he ••eing the extremity he was in, resol∣••ed rather to break his neck out of ••e window, than remain a remediless ••ictim to their just passion: where∣••re having tied two or three Napkins ••ogether with his Garters, and fasten∣••d them to the window, he gets out, ••inking to slide down by them as far ••s they would reach; but alas, they ••resently brake, and he with the fall, ••eing on the Free-stones, split his

head in pieces. The Watch hearin•• they cried Thieves, made such clo•• pursuit after them, that they took tw•• who were a while after executed.

La Chénay seeing how ill his tw•• Companions were treated, chang•• his Post, and skulks with the rest 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his Associates about the Suburbs 〈◊〉〈◊〉 St. Marcel, quartering themselves 〈◊〉〈◊〉 nights in the University; being n•• often seen abroad, having been d•• scribed to the Judges. Whilst he l•• thus about the University, he had n•• tice of a young man of the Count•• of Champagne, who came on purpo•• to Paris for his Studies, and h•• brought a considerable quantity 〈◊〉〈◊〉 money for his maintenance: when upon they accost him, and findi•• him of an easie and pliable tempe•• they grew in a short time so well a•• quainted, that they must needs go 〈◊〉〈◊〉 dinner together, pretending the•• selves likewise Scholars: But befo•• they went, one of the Gang orde••

mighty courteously) the Porter, co∣••ing from the Carriers with his ••runk, to set it in his Closet, and ••ckt it, giving him the Key; which ••aving done, they set out together. When having dined, they conduct ••im to the Colledge of Navarre, and walk him up and down till they ••hought their Companions, to whom ••hey had given another Key of the ••ame Closet, had conveyed, as indeed ••hey did, all the young man's money ••nd cloaths away.

A while after this, he takes along with him three or four of his Gang ••o the house of a rich Citizen in St. stephens Parish; and having watched the opportunitie of his being alone in the house, they knock at the door, desiring to speak with him. The Maid-servant thinking that they were Gentlemen, made no scruple to let them in: Whereupon they presently go up stairs into the Chamber where the Master of the house was; whom

they compliment, pretending the came to him to confer about extrao∣dinary business: Whereupon la C•• nay drawing him aside, tells him 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his ear, that he must needs lend the•• Two hundred Crowns. Which hea•• ing, he would fain have gotten fro•• them; but setting a Pistol to his brea•• they soon hindered him, swearing wi•• horrid Imprecations, that if he mu•• tered a word, and did not quietly an•• speedily satisfie their demands, he wa•• a dead man: which made him, i•• spight of's teeth, comply with thei•• requests. No sooner had they gotte•• out of the house, but he makes afte•• them, and got two of them appre•• hended, the rest escaping, who wer•• afterwards, for this and many othe•• Rogueries, executed at la Greve.

La Chénay had committed so many Villanies, and was so well known i•• Paris, that he perceived he could no•• with securitie stay there any longer 〈◊〉〈◊〉 whereupon he resolves to beat the

Road, and in effect gets to Mont au∣••an during the time of the Siege, and ••ere stayes a while in the Armie; but ••nding that he had not there that li∣••ertie to do mischief as he desired, he gathers together a pack of sturdie Villains, the chief of whom were la Fontaine, la Pointe, and la Faverie, ••nd left it.

The first Encounter they made, was of two Gentlemen in Guyenne; who returning from the Armie, were by them, at the corner of a Wood, most inhumanely murthered.

La Chénay was wont to give this ••n charge to his Companions: that whenever they saw any Merchant, or person of considerable Quality, that they should, before he came neer them, set themselves to their Musick and Dancing, and constrain him into the middle of the Dance; who often∣times, God knows, had rather have danced a Courant than a Galliard: but they were not so busied in their dan∣cing,

but that they lookt to put hi•• in when he was out, and made hi•• profess 'twas the dearest Musick he 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ver bought in his life; constraini•• him to part with what he had to pa•• the honest Fidler, who had recre•• ted him with such choice Musick.

And this Stratagem was put i•• practice in all places wheresoever the•• came, and especially towards thr•• Merchants, whom they set upon af∣ter this manner in the Forest of O••∣leans; constraining them to rejoy•• at their Losses, and to cut capers fo•• the Rape committed on them. Bu•• as mens designes do not always hap∣pen according to expectation, so i•• chanced that a stout Blade, a bre•• Souldier, called L'Espine, fortuned to ride the Road where they were; and coming up to them in a Valley nee•• Gergeau upon the River Loire, as soon as ever he came neer, la Chénay judge•• by his Garb and Countenance, that he had likely good store of money;

wherefore he lights from his horse, ••aking signes to his Companions to ••o the like, and takes his Cittern, ••eeting of him, singing forsooth, and ••ancing: But the Gentleman know∣••ng not to what end these Gambals ••ended, fell back a little, and would have put himself in a posture of de∣fence before he passed forwards; but they pretending that 'twas nothing but a mere Frolick, took away the apprehension of their designes: So that being in the midst of them, they set to their accustomed dancing. Yet notwithstanding, upon second thoughts, he concludes that their in∣tentions must needs terminate in Vil∣lanie: wherefore pretending to tie his Garters, he dexterously dis-enga∣geth himself from them, running to la Chénay's horse, who was tied to the bough of a Tree, and nimbly mounts him, cutting with a Sword his Bridle; and makes his way maugre all their efforts through the midst of the dance,

laying two of them, with their pa•• broken, on the ground; and ride•• directly to the Provost of Orlean•• telling him what had happened, an•• where he thought he might meet wit•• them. But they came too late; fo•• la Chénay, finding himself cheated o•• his hopes, leaves the Country, an•• with his Companions marcheth ove•• into Picardy, exercising there the•• tricks, till they had after this sort a•• bused so many people, that they wer•• forced to shift again the Country.

After this, la Chénay, being accom∣pani'd with onely two of his Compa∣nions, set upon a Merchant of Beauvai•• coming to Paris, taking away not on∣ly his Goods and Horse, but his Life too. Whilst la Chénay went to the Horse-market to sell the Horse, the other two expose the Merchandize to sale; which turn'd to their ruine: for when 'twas known that they offered their Goods at so low a rate, it was imagined immediately that they came

not honestly by them; and in effect, being laid hold on upon suspition, they confessed the whole matter.

La Chénay, whose destiny reserved him for another place, came to finde his Merchants in the Hall; but seeing ••a great confusion of people in the place where he had left them, it came into his minde that they were taken; whereupon he places the rest of his hopes in his heels, leaving his two Companions behinde him, who were broken a while after on the Wheel. A man would think, that having esca∣ped so many times the hand of Justice, when he was in as great danger as his other Companions were, it should have reclaimed him; but he rather making use of this as an argument to continue his Villanies than to leave them, resol∣ved still to persist in his former wicked courses: Where he rallies his scatter∣ed Troop, and takes again the field; and having met with three Citizens, he affronts them with a marvellous

audaciousness, and with a tone whic•• argued nothing but blood and cruel∣ty, he told the best accoutred of th•• three, that the Horse which he ri•• on was his, and had been lately stole•• from him: that it must be return'•• him, or else he wore a Sword tha•• should do him right. La Faverie, l•• Pointe, and la Fontaine set upon th•• others with the like impudence, an•• would needs make them believe th•• Horses that they rid on were theirs▪ The Citizens seeing it in vain to dis∣pute Proprieties, were forced to aligh•• off their Horses and leave them, with their Money likewise, behinde them, glad that they had far'd no worse for la Chénay was a bloody-minded wretch, and valued no mans life; so little sense had he of Justice and com∣mon Goodness.

It happened, that being one day a∣lone neer the Citie of Mans, walking in the Fields thereabouts whilst hi•• Companions were gone to visit the

neighbouring Fairs, he entred at night into an Inne, where no body, consi∣dering his Garb and Mein, would have taken him for what he was, be∣ing excellently well mounted, and in all things like a Gentleman. Now it chanced that the Provost of Mans and his men having heard that he vaulted thereabouts, were set out on purpose to try if they could take him; but forasmuch as none of them had ever seen his face, it was impossible for them to know him. Being in the Inne, he enquires of the Inne-keeper what Guests he had; who returns an∣swer, that there was onely one Compa∣ny: Whereupon he bids the Host ask them whether they would not think it troublesome for him to sup with them: to whom the Provost return∣ed answer, That he should take it as a great favour if the Gentleman would be pleased to honour him with his company. Whereupon la Chénay en∣ters, being receiv'd with all the respect

imaginable. To make short of it, they seat themselves, and he telleth how he returned from the Army, and that his Lacqueys, being not able to keep pace with him, were left behinde at a Village, which he named, not far from thence. They entertain one a∣nother with several Discourses, as well what had passed at Languedoc, as at Vivarets, Rochell, and other places: but as they fell from one thing to a∣nother, especially concerning what had happened thereabouts, la Chénay perceived that he was in the midst of them who were set out on purpose to take him; whereupon he then (un∣derstanding his part) acts accordingly, detesting all Thieves, and telling them how that coming out from Tholouse he was robb'd by a crew of Rogues of all he had brought from the Ar∣my.

The Provost, who understood not whereto tended this discourse, very gravely listens to him, thinking that

truth it self spake by his mouth. To make short, having all supped, they betake themselves to their Chambers: and the best of it all was, that la Ché∣nay lay in the same Room with the Provost; and being willing to give himself pastime, he orders the Hostler to get ready his horse at Four of the clock in the morning, intending to be before noon at Mans. Whereup∣on he gets up as soon as ever it was light, reckons with his Host, and pays not onely his own share, but the Pro∣vost's too: And as he was ready to mount on his horse, he draws the Inne-keeper apart, and chargeth him to tell the Provost, that he with whom last night he had supped, was la Chénay, whom he had so much sought after; and that he had paid his scot for him.

Two hours after this, the Provost he riseth, demanding whether the Gentleman was set out yet; and an∣swer being returned, Near three hours

ago, and that he had remitted the account to them behinde; he at this falls into a passion, and admires that so brave a Gentleman as he should put such a trick upon him. The Inne-keeper perceiving him to sto∣mack it so much, told him at last, that he that supped with them was call'd la Chénay, and that he had in∣deed paid the whole reckoning for them: At which the Provost was ten times madder than before, cur∣sing and swearing at the Inne-keeper, that he did not tell him of it sooner; th'other excuseth himself, as not knowing any thing of their concerns, having never before seen la Chénay, wherefore he could not be reasonably blamed, for giving him a simple account of what passed betwixt them.

The Provost all in haste raiseth the Countrey to pursue him; but all in vain, for he had by that time gotten at least 10 Leagues off, escaping

after this manner from them.

But it is in vain for him to think ••'escape divine Justice; the bloud of so many poor wretches, whom he had most cruelly murthered, cryed ••o Heaven for vengeance, and would not suffer him a••y longer upon the earth: for as he ranged about Fon∣tainbleau and the Forrest of Orleans, la Fontaine comes and gives him no∣tice, that if he were minded to make a good booty, there was a great Fair kept in the Countrey of Perche, and that it was needful there should be to the number of five or six, who should go straight to Vernueil, as being a place near the Fair, and, if occasion required, very necessary for their retreat.

This counsel was assoon executed as proposed, la Chénay taking along with him la Faverie, la Pointe, and four or five more, and make straight∣waies thither; giving out, that they went upon designe of helping a Gen∣tleman,

a friend of theirs, who w•• to fight a Duel.

In the mean time, la Fontaine, wh•• was the guide in this enterprize, go•• directly to Perche, walking about th•• Fair, and making as if he came pu•• posely to buy Goods; but indee•• 'twas to consider who had most Mo∣ney, they being the men he did in∣tend to force a Trade withal: an•• having understood that one of the•• that kept the Fair, had sold Commo∣dities to the value of seven hundre•• Pounds; after information of th•• place of his abode and time of de∣parture, he came and communicated his discoveries to la Chénay, saying, which was the word amongst them, that The Gentleman had taken the field. Upon which la Chénay sets out with his companions, and being come to the place appointed, there hid themselves behinde a Hedge, a∣bout half a League off of Vernueil, to th'intent they might be ready

when the Merchant passed by there: ••ut it hapned (howsoever it came to ••ass) that the Magistrates of Vernueil got notice of this their Cabal; upon which the City was all in a tumult: there was enquirie made presently after them in the Inne, where they had lodged the last night; but there they could learn nothing of them, but only that they were Gentlemen, who came to assist their friend who was to fight. This pretence was specious enough, and many were in the minde not to concern themselves any further about them: yet never∣theless, as there are some men who see further a great deal than others, so these concluded on the other side, that there must needs be something in it which lookt ill, and that this Duel must be fantastick and imagi∣nary, and invented by them as a cloak to cover some notable Villany: to which it was added, that they were seen to pry about the Fair, and

that, without doubt, their intent wa•• not good; upon these conjectures it was thought fitting to make afte•• them: whereupon the chief of th•• City, being followed by twenty o•• thirty men well-arm'd, as well Hors•• as Foot, made up to the place wher•• they had notice they lay. But la Ch•• nay and his companions perceiving•• that this troop approaching concer∣ned them, took the alarm, and rid away as fast as their Horses could carry them, for about ten miles toge∣ther, and hid themselves in an Inne▪ hoping that they were now out o•• danger: Where they had no soone•• refreshed themselves, but the House was immediately beset on every side, with as well those that came in their pursuit from Vernueil, as of the Vil∣lages thereabouts, who came in flock•• after them.

But as they saw the people crowd more and more about the house where they were, so there were two

of them so nimble, as to make their escape; there remaining but four behinde, who thinking to get on ••orseback, were so closely followed by the Countrey-people, that they were constrained to leave their Hor∣ses and stand upon their guard. La Faverie and la Fontaine were in the yard ready to mount their Horses; but the Peasants so laid on them with their Forks, Rakes and Staves, that they could not, for all their dexte∣rity, avoid being taken. La Ché∣nay seeing his Companions taken, thought within himself, that this was not a time to dally in, but that 'twas his best way to barricadoe the door with Benches, Stools, Tables, and other Lumber which he could finde in the Room, that he might stop the fury of the rude multitude.

The Host in the mean time knows not the cause of this tempest, which came thundering in such a manner on his house, being charg'd with such

earnestness to deliver up them wh•• came there. He knew not what answe•• to make them, nor indeed could have come at them if he would, neither could tell what to say, but that they were Gentlemen that were unknown to him, as having never seen them i•• his life before. But to conclude, l•• Chénay and la Pointe having so fa∣stened the door that 'twas almost im∣possible to enter, they get up to the Windows, crying out, That they wonder'd at this usage; that they were Gentlemen and persons of re∣putation, and therefore they had best to have a care how they thus treated them; yet notwithstanding all this, the people ceas'd not to endeavour to get at them, with such eagerness, that there was nothing, as is usually in such cases, but confusion and dis∣order.

A Gentleman, living not far off, named Monsieur la Brussé, hearing this noise, took horse, and with three

or four of his Attendants came, where ••e noise directed him; where be∣••g come, he seeth the Magistrates ••nd Officers of Vernueil, and enquires ••f them th'occasion of this tumult; ••nd being given to understand the ••easons of it, he so orders the business, ••at he comes to the speech of la ••hénay, who understanding his qua∣••ty, and perceiving him a Gentleman, ••ells him how little reason there was ••hey should be thus used, and what ••ity it was that they must be offered ••p as Victims to the fury of the Po∣••ulacy; desiring him withal, that he ••y his authority and interposition ••ould appease this vulgar commoti∣••n, and get them out of the hands of ••hese Rusticks.

The Sieur de la Brussé, seeing them 〈◊〉〈◊〉 good equipage, could never have ••in perswaded, had not the event ••hewed the contrary, but that they ••ere really such as they pretended ••hemselves; whereupon he desireth

the Judge of Vernueil, that he woul•• permit him to conduct them to hi•• house, and that there they should b•• examined concerning what they ha•• to say to them.

To which the Judge agrees, provi•• ded that he may draw up a verb•• Process of the whole matter; whic•• being done, and la Brussé's reque•• granted, they return to Vernueil.

The four Thieves being now a•• la Brussé's house, are continually 〈◊〉〈◊〉 plotting and contriving their escape•• but there being strict charge give•• by the Magistrates concerning them it being the condition upon whic•• they were delivered, they wanted no•• for looking after. La Chénay, wh•• display'd all his inventions to escap•• pretended he belonged to a Noble man, who lived a considerable wa•• from thence; to whom when a Lette•• was sent to know the truth, the•• was answer return'd, that he was 〈◊〉〈◊〉 far from belonging to him, that h••

had never heard that there was such a ••erson in the world: so that two or ••ree days after, he sent into the Citie 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the Magistrates to be discharg'd of ••em.

It was thought expedient to come ••ell armed, it being likely that there ••as more of their Crew abroad, and ••ho, if they should have notice, would ••ome to their Rescue: wherefore ••hey brought two Companies of Soul∣••iers, that they might with greater ••curity conduct them to the Castle.

La Chénay desisted not still to ••reaten them who had made this tu∣••ult, as he call'd it, protesting he would make them pay dearly for their ••solence to a person who was their ••uperiour; that they were mistaken 〈◊〉〈◊〉 their man; that it was not to him ••hat they should put these abuses. ••ut alas, all these bravadoes were to ••ttle purpose; for they were soon ••fter, being in custody, known by se∣••eral persons, who deposed against

them: So that being clearly prove•• guilty of several Murthers, Thes•• and Robberies, they were senten•• (as 'tis usual in France) to do P•• nance in their shirts, with light•• Torches in their hands, before t•• great Church of Vernueil, and afte•• wards to be broken alive on t•• Wheel; which was accordingly ex•• cuted: la Pointe, la Faverie, and Fontaine, confess ingenuously the several Crimes, reproaching la Chén•• upon the Wheel, as having debauch•• them from the Army, and broug•• them upon these horrid practices, a•• consequently to this shameful E•• But he on the contrary took his Dea•• with such a strange kind of undau•• tedness, that it is impossible to co•• ceive, without being an Eye-witne•• saying never a word, but looking 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the people with a countenance th•• argued a scorn to live though life we•• granted him; shewing the same re•• lution and fierceness at his Deat••

which was observ'd to have run ••ough the current of his whole ••fe.

CHAP. IV. The Life of la Fleur.

••T would be but little benefit and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 satisfaction to the Reader, to have 〈◊〉〈◊〉 account of this persons Extracti∣••n, Village, Town, or City where he ••as born, seeing that these things, if ••e knew them, would not be mate∣••al to our Relation: for we will not ••uppose him, with Mercury, to be a Thief as soon as ever he peept out of ••e shell; and therefore I hope I may ••e spar'd the pains of further enqui∣••ies, being willing to relate nothing ••f him but what we finde upon un∣••oubted Records to be true; and

being desirous to come to that part his age in which, by a thousand V∣lanies, he made himself in Paris a•• elsewhere remarkable.

For having one day notice of t•• return of a certain Merchant of Sen•• to Paris from the Low Countries, dressing himself in womens Appar•• with three or four of his Compa•• ons, marches thither; where th•• were at least three days in expecta•• on of his appearance, but at last th•• descried him a great way off desce•• ding the Hills: which made la Fl•• prepare himself for his Entertai•• ment, lying down in the Road wi•• piteous Cries and Lamentations, a•• cusing Heaven and Earth as Consp•• rators of his Misfortunes. The Me•• chant being a man of a brisk and ai•• temper, and one who well understod the delights of Feminine Conver•• tions, was not a little moved with jo•• at this happy surprizal, as imagini•• himself in an easie possession of

••gular Beauty: For indeed la Fleur, ••ough a man, had a Countenance, in ••hich there appeared so much deli∣••cie and sweetness, that there's few ••omen but would have been glad 〈◊〉〈◊〉 have been possessors of the like ••eatures; pity it is that he should ••ve made such use of them; but he ••as one of those handsom men the ••allows laid claim to. But to our ••ory: the Merchant alights from his ••orse, and enquires of la Fleur the ••use of his Complaints: Who, coun∣••erfeiting rarely well the Woman, told ••im a long story of her piteous ad∣ventures, (without howsoever pul∣••ing off her Mask:) That she had been ••eeing some of her Kindred, and was ••eft there by her Brother upon some ••mall distaste receiv'd; so that she ••ould do no otherwise than lament her misfortune, and curse the time she set out with him, her Honour being through his occasion so much in dan∣ger.

The Merchant hearing this di•• course, imagines, poor man, that the•• must be truth in it; and setting him self down neer this goodly Creature begins to enter into Appetite. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Fleur making small resistance, onel•• crying out, Whore-like, that now sh•• was going to be undone, ruined, lo•• for ever! Alas, Sir, said she, what d•• you mean? what will you do to me•• Pray forbear, I cannot indeed; away I pray: I am as yet a Maid; I be•• seech you let me alone; you'll hur•• me: Pish, fie, I took you for anothe•• man; what, loose my Honour, mor•• dear than my life! Away, 'tis i•• vain.

Whilst they were in these discourse•• there happens to ride along the Road a notable old jovial Fellow of Com∣peigne, a good Companion, and one who in his time had been a great Vaulter; who perceiving the Mer∣chant a courting the Lady, resolves to put in too for a share: Whereupon he

alights off his horse and makes up to ••••em. Which la Fleur perceiving, cries ••ut, she was the most miserable of wo∣men; that Heaven had ceas'd to take care of her; and that she should be happy, should the ground open and swallow her up. These two comfor∣ted her with many fair promises, ta∣king her each of them by the hand, and led her into the entrance of the Wood.

La Fleur seeing it now time to draw his Game to a close, told them, that seeing her misfortune so ordered it that she should fall into their hands, that they would do her so much favour as to advance farther in the Wood, that she might not be openly prostitu∣ted; yet still sob'd and cri'd, calling a thousand times on Death to succour her, as if she had been infinitely trou∣bled at this Encounter. The old Fellow, being the hottest of the two, went on foremost, having quitted her hand, the Merchant following; but

he had I know not what kind of fea•• which damped his Spirits, and mad•• him hang back: but as one Wav•• drives another, and as the greate•• part of the World lives by Example so he thought he might as well ad∣vance as the other: Whereupon h•• goes on till they came to the mo•• solitary places of the Wood, wher•• being just ready to execute their fil∣thy designes, la Fleur draws out 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Pistol from under his coat and kill•• the Merchant; which blow was n•• sooner given, but the other was se•• upon by four sturdy Rogues, who•• with their Poignards struck him dea•• immediately: after which they set to their Booty, rifling their pockets, and found about 'em neer Three hundred pounds besides their horses. When be∣ing upon sharing this their unjust Ac∣quisition, there arises a great-Quarrel betwixt 'em: la Fleur would have a•• Horse and a hundred pound for his share, as having acted the chiefest part

in the Tragedy; to which the others would by no means consent: where∣fore they joyn'd Two against Three ••nd fought neer the Cross of St. Pen, which is a little Village about two ••eagues distant from Compeigne; la ••leur (having good skill) runs his man through the body, and having desperately wounded the other, gets on horse-back and rides to Paris.

Where he is no sooner arriv'd, but he accosts the gang of Rogues, Lif∣ters, Pick-pockets, and Filers; re∣fines, corrects, augments, and establi∣shes their Laws; and having read to them some few Comments on the Pic∣caro, he for a while leaves 'em, but in a short time returns, and begins a pleasant adventure: For being in∣form'd that a company of Lawyers were to dine at la Pomme de Pin, he parts from the Palace (his usual place of plying) and hastens directly to the Tavern, the place of assignation; where entering puffing and blowing

as a man in extraordinary haste, h•• gives order, as deputed by the com∣pany, to make ready a breakfast fo•• Ten or Twelve persons: Which h•• had no sooner done, but the compan•• comes to the house, and la Fleur bus∣sles about as Valet, and was indeed believed to be so by the Lawyers, s•• notably did he bestir himself in the business; when being about the mid∣dle of their Breakfasts, he packs up the best of their Cloaks, and so pikes off. Scarcely had they made an end, but they began to miss their Cloaks, demanding where they were; but they might look long enough before they finde 'em, he having got already to the Brokers with 'em who was wont to buy stolen goods: Where fol∣lowing him (this Broker being a noted Raseal for his dealings that way) they took him just as he was receiving his money for his Merchan∣dize. When as they were carrying him before a Justice, three of his

Companions chancing to pass by that way, and seeing which way their Pi∣••ot was steering, fall immediately up∣on the raising a Quarrel, drawing their Swords, and fall together by the ears, making such a Scuffle, that all the people were busied in looking on them: which our grand Rogue per∣ceiving, nimbly skips out of their hands who held him, and gets into the Croud; where they might search for him till he wou'd be found.

After this, with some of his Com∣rades, he marches out of Paris to St. Clou, and puts in at the first Inne he comes at: Where asking for a Chamber, the Mistriss of the house supposing them honest Guests, shews them up stairs; and perceiving her alone, they intend to force her, and in effect were ready to put their in∣tentions into practice, when the Ma∣ster of the house just enters; upon which they were forced to await for a more seasonable opportunity. A∣bout

midnight then there was one o•• them feigns himself sick, and raise the Master and Mistriss of the house but it hapning as he stept out of hi•• bed he espies a Neighbour of his i•• the Chamber; upon which the Hos•• being transported with jealousie, run•• after his man, whilst in the mean time these Rascals seize on his Wife, who had gotten up stairs in the dark into la Fleur's Chamber, where they be∣gan to truss her up like a woman of her profession: upon which the Hus∣band comes to his Chamber, and missing his Wife, goes up to them; with whom finding her, he would have kill'd her; but by a strange kind of perfidiousness she causeth him to be murthered by one of these Rogues, thinking to come off well enough her self. But la Fleur would not be so contented: for having un∣derstood of a long time that there was money in the house, comes up to her, clapping a Pistol to her breast,

and tells her, that if she shewed him ••ot where the money lay, there was ••n end of her life: but she making ••esistance when it was matter of mo∣••ey, was quickly dispatched by ••hem.

CHAP. V. The Life of Cleomas, hang'd in St John's Coemitery at Paris.

ALthough that a person of base extraction is ordinarily void of Courage, yet notwithstanding I finde many great Personages remarkable for Valour amongst the dregs of the Po∣pulace, where it seemeth to us that there cannot be any at all recommen∣dable. Nevertheless, in this case we must attribute more to Fortune and Despair, than to true Courage, see∣ing

that is seldome found but a∣mongst the Great, and those who are truly Noble: for Virtue appears with greater advantage, and works more wonderful effects in a body well dispos'd, than in a rustick mass, and stupid lump of flesh, as your Country-Peasants.

Cleomas, a Rustical fellow, and made by Nature more to cultivate the Earth than to handle Arms, will furnish me with a sufficient Example for the proof of what I said; from the instant of his birth his name prognosticated nothing to him but what was to his disadvantage. But as we are oftentimes blinde in the things which do most concern us, so from his tender youth he forgot the knowledge of himself, that he might the better forget the respect and de∣voir which he ow'd to his God. He dwelt about Paris, where he was some∣time Servant in an Inne. The first act of impiety which he committed (whe∣ther

naturally he was cruel, or that ••ury had transported him out of his ••enses) was as he went alone to Pa∣••is, whither his Masters affairs, or ••is own particular concerns call'd ••im: As he was on the Road, mu∣••ing and pensive, he saw a Wag∣goner driving his Waggon loaden with Corn to Paris. The Waggon was drawn with four Horses; the ••ight of which inflam'd him with a desire of murthering the Waggoner. What doth not a man when he hath let loose the bridle of his Passions? what cruelty doth he not imagine? how is he transported? perswading himself that a Tygers heart is not fierce enough to animate and accom∣pany him in his actions. Cleomas, without any consideration of the e∣vent, sets on the Waggoner, and with two stabs poignards him, and boldly took so much time as to bury him. You'd think this a story, if he him∣self at his death had not confest it.

This first Enterprize was but onely the foundation of greater mischiefs he•• then designed: The inward fury o•• his Soul hurried him on to greater at∣tempts; and having buried the Wag∣goner, not out of any piety to the deceased (for he never had any) he mounts the Waggon and drove on to Paris. Surely he must needs be Ma∣ster of a great stock of impudence, seeing he came to the Market-place as if he had been the Waggoners Ser∣vant, and there sells the Waggon and Horses without St. Honores gate; and with the money he returned to his former Employment. There was made in Paris all imaginable enquiry for the Waggoner.

Two years pass on; during which Cleomas committed no other villany: for whether that they came not to publick notice, or whether he would never confess it; in the end, his cru∣elty increasing with his years, for at the most he had not attained to the

Twenty fourth year, he resolved to ••eave his Master, that he might with ••ore freedom carry on his designes. His inclinations carri'd him on to ••one but high Enterprizes, which he for the most part effected alone. So ••rom thence he betook himself to the Woods, and accosted the most despe∣••ate Thieves he could meet withal: ••o that every day new Bands of Rogues came to list themselves in his service.

He committed many notorious Robberies along the River of Marne, and about St. Maur, Charenton, Fon∣••enay, and other neighbouring parts. All the Country thereabouts knew his name; and although he was so well known, yet none had the courage to take him: for ordinarily he was attended with Fifty horse, and pil∣lag'd and plunder'd all he met with. But if his Life was strange, his End was not less admirable: for having done things beyond imagination, the

fame, or rather infamy of Cleomos i•• creasing every day, the Country r•• solved no longer to endure his ins•• lencies. He was threatned from a•• parts; and that notwithstanding d•• but inflame his Courage. At Chare•• ton a man called Floriander had caus•• five or six Marshals men to come t•• his house, in order to take him; fo•• he sometimes used to walk alon•• Cleomas hear'd of it, and came b•• night, with his Crew, to Floriander gate, firing the house with a hundre•• Curses; which presently alarm'd th•• Town as well as the Marshals men who pursued him with all their forces His Company perceiving they wer•• pursued, dispers'd themselves; but h•• retreated to a Villiage, and went t•• Inne there. This pursuit made him keep in: They enquir'd where h•• was hid, and at last he was found ou•• by the Marshals men in the said Inne•• The people gathered together abou•• the Inne; and as two were ready o••

the threshold to sieze him, he rose from the Table where he sat with his Pistol in his hand, and kill'd one dead ••n the place; then with his Sword made an end of his Companion, and had the assurance to bridle his horse, and to get out of the Inne. The Peasants seeing this, rush'd all on him, so the number of a hundred and fifty, arm'd with Clubs, Forks, Rakes, and what they could next lay their hands on; so they forc'd him from his horse: which did not so terrifie him, but that he made his way with his sword, and the Peasants could not then take him; but the number increasing, closely pursued him. He seeing him∣self at the last period of his life, ran with all the force he could, and got among the Vines, outstripping them, a thing almost incredible, at least half a league; but as he would have ••eposed himself, he was astonish'd, that in less than a quarter of an hour he was environed with no less than

Three hundred people. Being in thi•• extremity, he again forced his wa•• through them, and came to the Vallie•• of St. Maur; where being arriv'd, h•• saw there was but one way left for t•• escape, which was to cast himself int•• the River, where he took the leisur•• (though closely pursu'd) to undres•• himself, and left his Cloaths on th•• bauk; then taking his naked Swor•• in his teeth, he sets to swimming i•• the River of Marne. The banks were covered with the multitudes of peo∣ple, who prepared Boats that they might take him: But that which wa•• admirable in his courage was, that h•• never parted with his Sword from betwixt his teeth. Swimming to a little Island on which he got and rested him, many there were who put themselves in Boats to take him; but five or six of them were wounded in the attempt. At last he came, by swimming, from St. Maur to Charenton, where the people made at him with

their Oars, seeing they could not take ••im without blows, striking him ••hree or four times with them on the ••ead, which stunn'd him, and there∣upon was with ease taken and carried ••o a Surgeon in order to his cure, be∣••ng very much wounded. His wounds ••eing drest, he was condemn'd, and ••y an Appeal sent to Paris, where he was hang'd.

CHAP. VI. The Lives of two Blood•• Thieves, Francis Dornande•• and John Langlois.

THe irreligion of Francis Dor•• nandez and John Langlois in∣stigated them to commit the most de∣testable actions, having abandoned a•• sense of Piety from their youth, their ordinary exercise being nothing but Theft and Murther; nor could it wel•• be otherwise expected, for their An∣cestors had exercised no other trade, as it appears by the Sentence of their Condemnation pronounc'd at Orle∣ans: For their Father was broken on the Wheel at Roüen. They were born near Gergean, a City of So∣loigne, and past their youth in the

Wars of Savoy. We will not take ••otice of an infinite of wicked acti∣••ns which they committed, as well 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the Wars as in other places; I'le ••ake notice now of nothing but what 〈◊〉〈◊〉 most remarkable, especially of one ••ct that they did near Paris; 'twas ••ot far from the Mount Valerien, ••here these Villains made their Sal∣••ies, this place was their rendevouz, ••nd scarcely a day past but they pil∣••ag'd somebody; they held all the Country in subjection, neither durst ••ny offer to take them, lest they ••hould afterwards fall into their ••ands: The Woods serv'd them for 〈◊〉〈◊〉 retreat, and the Caverns for a hi∣ding place, from whence night and day they exercised a thousand sorts of Villanies. The fame of their cru∣elty spreading it self far and near, caus'd all the Country to keep off from them; the good Religieux of Meudon, who lived hard by, were the onely persons who could pass with

safety, as having indeed nothing t•• lose: Their goods consisting not i•• the riches of this World, but in th•• treasures of eternal Life. Hunge•• often forces the Wolf out of th•• wood; Dornandez would have neve•• come out of his private retreat, if h•• could have found enough there t•• satisfie his vitious inclinations: bu•• his companion, who lov'd to nouris•• himself with blood, perswaded hi•• to take the field; it seem'd to him a•• age past since he had taken any boo∣ty. Dornandez, sollicited by th•• desires of his companion, leaves hi•• den, and so they came forraging a•• along the river Seine, where, as i•• happen'd, about half a League off S•• Clou, they met two poor Religieu•• Recollets, who wandering out o•• their way by reason of the nights ap∣proach, could not reach Paris, asking of them the way to Meudon, ther•• being a famous Monstery of Capu•• chin-Friars. Langlois, who breath'••

nothing but blood, tells his compa∣••ion that he must needs kill these ••wo Religious. Dornandez with∣••eld him, shewing him the horrour ••f the fact, and the little gain that ••ould redound thereby; yet never∣••eless his remonstrances could not ••erswade him; wherefore he turning ••owards them, told them he would ••ew them the right way, and that ••e was going the same Road. At ••he hearing of which, these good Fa∣••hers humbly thank'd them for their ••ains. Langlois, who had shut his ••yes to all manner of goodness, that ••e might open his heart to all manner ••f villany, conducted them into his Cavern, intending to kill them; but Dornandez, who could not agree to ••he death of these persons, with much ••do made him alter his resolutions: but howsoever, he tells them that ••hey must leave behinde them their habits; and so saying, took them from ••hem.

Dornandez not knowing his inten∣tion, desir'd him often to let them g•• as they came; but he had other de•• signs in his head, promising no sma•• advantage by these habits. Where∣fore having stript these two Fathers he conducted them out of the wood and shew'd them the way to St. Clo•• where, by reason of the night, they went to lodge.

Langlois and Dornandez havin•• got into the place of their Retreat and discoursing together of wha•• they had done, Langlois told hi•• the reason why he took their Cloaths You know, continu'd he, that 'tis no•• far from hence to Argentville: 〈◊〉〈◊〉 would turn towards Meudon, but th•• Religieux there perhaps would kno•• us by our demeanour; howsoever I ad•• vise to assume these habits, pretendin•• to be what they are who wore 'em, l•• me alone to do the rest; wee'll go t•• Argentville, where I saw the la•• time I was there, a golden Chalice; 〈◊〉〈◊〉

don't question but by this disguise to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 master of it. Dornandez an∣••wered him, that 'twas a bold and ••angerous enterprize; howsoever if ••e can do this, said he, it will be an ••ncouragement to do others.

Whereupon they resolve at last to ••ut their invention in practise, going ••o Argentville to the Curates house, who believing them to be Religieux ••oming that way, received them ve∣••y kindly; which free access gave ••ope to their designe. At night as ••hey lay together, they were a while consulting of the manner how they ••hould carry on their business, which ••hey at last resolved upon. The Morning being come, our two Reli∣gieux gat up betimes, and came to the Curate's Chamber, telling him they desired to say Mass: the good Curate not mistrusting any thing, ••arises and opens the door; which ••he had no sooner done, but they with their Poinards stab him to the

heart, laying him dead at their feet although he inteated their mercy which having done, they break ope•• his Trunks, taking away all his Mo∣ney; and not therewith contented they take the Keys of the Church and carry away not only the Chalice but all the other Ornaments besides and so march off.

And after this sort they deceive•• not a few, using these Habits as 〈◊〉〈◊〉 sure covert to exercise sundry Villa•• nies, till they were at last detecte•• and seized on at Orleans, where they there on the Gibbet made an end o•• their miserable Lives.

CHAP. VII. The Life of Postell, a Scholar of the University of Paris.

POstell came of a good Family, and was sent to Paris for conveni∣••ncies of Study, where he was en∣••ered in the University, being al∣••ow'd a sufficient Pension from his Friends for his maintenance: but a∣••as, that was by him immediately, in ••he space of two or three days con∣sum'd at farthest; wherefore he was forc'd to betake himself afterwards ••o shirking and stealing for his sub∣sistance, running up and down a∣••ights about the streets, and in the morning he betook himself to his Chamber, as a Fox that had been hunting the Geese. The first that

was trapt by this Gamester, was Booksellers-man of the Palace, wh•• coming from carrying some Books t•• a Scrivener, and having not foun•• him at home, return'd in St. Iames•• street about eight at night, in th•• midst of winter. Postell having me•• him, ask'd him what Books he ca•• ried: the other shews him; where upon they chaffer, and he carries hi•• to his Chamber, which he had hir'•• near the Colledge of St. Barbe where being arriv'd, he gives him 〈◊〉〈◊〉 glass Pistol to change; in the mea•• time shuts his Chamber-door, and a•• the Booksellers man brought him th•• Pistol again, he would not stir to open it: but on the morrow hapned the mischief; for thinking to sell the Books he had bought to a Book∣seller, he addresses himself to the Owner, who stopt them; and had he not found his legs ready at his ser∣vice, he had e'en turn'd Bookseller in the Gatehouse. This one should

imagine was warning enough for him, had he not been so addicted to wickedness; in a word, 'twas so far from reclaiming him, that on the contrary, having heard a little after that a young Vintner had been lately married, and set up in St. Iames-street, he with his Gang frequented his house, and were received with welcome and credit. Postell ob∣serving that he left his Wife often alone, took that as an occasion to make love to her, imagining by his fair words to compass his designs. It hapned one day, that the Master of the house going to Supper to some of his Relations, Postell with one of his Camrades at night knocks at the door, which was presently opened; he began to carouse, looking for the good hour in which he might exe∣cute his intention; for the Mistris of the house being indispos'd staid at home, knowing besides that 'twould be late before she should return, had

she gone. As they were going abou•• their enterprize, the Master of th•• house knocks at door, a little mer∣ry, for they had made him drink where he was, as a man of his pro∣fession; he enters, and doubts not in the least his guests, but drinks with them, and thinks they would, as they were wont, go to their Lodg∣ings at last: But one of them pre∣tending to be drunk, sleeps at the end of the Table: Postell desired for his Friend a Chamber that Night, which the Vintner at first scrupl'd, but upon the consideration of being his guest, granted his request. About Midnight, when every body was in deep sleep, they rise and come from their Chamber, arm'd with Pistols, thinking to finde the Vintner's Chamber open, but it was lockt; they consulted a long time what to do, and how they might get into the Chamber; at length Postill told his Companion, he'd have him return

to his Bed, and pretend himself sick; which he did, and presently he began to knock on the floor, under which the Vintner lay, and to call for Wine to fetch him again to life, pretending that he had swoon'd away. The man of the house awakens in a maze, and brings some Vinegar for this Counterfeit; but Postell told him, he thought it most proper to give him some of his best Wine, and that he knew his Companions constitu∣tion; whereupon they went both in∣to the Cellar. Postell takes a Pistol with him loaded with three Bullets, charg'd with white Powder, and as the Vintner stoops to draw Wine, he discharges it and shoots through his Head, killing him dead on the place: the Candle was put out, and he was above a quarter of an hour, before he could finde the way out of the Cellar. In short, he got out, lights the Candle, and goes up stairs, tel∣ling his Companion what he had

done. The Woman of the House seeing a man, took him for her Hus∣band, not mistrusting he was mur∣thered. Postill goes to bed to he•• and she receives him for her Hus∣band, and bids him put out the Candle; but as he turn'd to draw the Curtain, she perceiv'd he had no Beard, and presently cries out: where∣upon Postill's Comrade throws him∣self into the Chamber, and stops her mouth with the Bed-cloaths, and so accomplisht their brutish Appetites, and afterwards kill'd her with six stabs of a Dagger. It chanc'd that the Maid-servant was not at home, having got leave of her Mistris to be at one of her Brother's Wedding; so that these Murtherers knowing they were alone in the house, ransackt and pillag'd the best they could lay their hands on, breaking open Trunks and Boxes, till they met with four hun∣dred Pounds, which the Vintner had borrow'd of his Wives Father,

to buy Wines in Burgundy. Furnisht with this Booty, they gently open'd the door, at three of the Clock in the Morning, having carefully shut all after them, as if there had been nothing done. In the morning every one was astonish'd to see the doors fast, it being a well-custom'd house, the Master of it having the reputa∣tion to be no Water-dasher, there be∣ing few of them in Paris: For of a Pint, they'll make a Quart, and of a Pottle a Gallon. The Neighbours did not at all mistrust mischief, think∣ing that this their keeping the door shut, was out of some particular hu∣mour; but at last they were doubt∣ful of the worst, and therefore sent word to his Relations, who broke open the door, and found the Mistriss bleeding in her Bed; whereupon all the Neighbourhood were in an up∣roar: the Commissary comes there, drawing up a particular account of what they had seen. All people ac∣cus'd

the Vintner as guilty of mur∣thering his Wife, saying that he came home drunk the night before; and seeing he could not be found, what could be more probable? This was told his particular Relations, who could not tell what to think on't, as knowing not how to acquit or con∣demn him: But this they affirm'd, that to their knowledge he never had (a thing very rare) any quarrel with his Wife, being not of a cholerick temper. Whilst these debates were managed, the Commissary, whose business it is to take care of those matters, orders the dead body to be carried to the Chatelet. But before he doth so, the Parents of each of them desir'd him to search the house; which they had no sooner done, but they found the Vintner dead on the ground. The shriekings and lamen∣tations are doubled on every side, and none could imagine th'author of these Villanies.

So these two Rascals went clearly. off with these spoils, and lay conti∣nually in Bawdy-houses, till they had consum'd it all, and then were fore'd to put themselves on new shifts. Postill had a rich Uncle, a Citizen of Paris, who knew not of the ill courses of this his Nephew, giving him always a favourable re∣ception in his house. He finding all his Money gone, so contriv'd his bu∣siness, that he at last got the Key of the Trunk in which his Aunt used to store up her Money: she not ima∣gining that any of the house had it, much less her Nephew, caused a new one to be fitted to the Lock. He being willing to make use of an oc∣casion when offer'd, watches one Sunday till they were gone out of doors to Church, leaving no body at home, but a little Girl their Kins∣woman and the Servant-maid: Po∣still seeing his Uncle and Aunt safe at Church, returns, where he sindes

the Maid washing the dishes. He who knew the customs of the house hastens her to the Sermon, telling her that 'twas already begun: she no doubting his designes, believes him and so they go out together, leaving the little Girl at home: Postill fol∣lows her to Church, where being entred, he presently whips out and returns, knocking at the door, which was presently opened, telling her, that he had left his Beads behinde him; whereupon he marches up stairs, and pretends to look 'em, and opens the Trunk with his Key, and takes out a little bag, wherein was Two hundred Crowns, and so goes out of the Chamber, putting every thing in its place, as if he had never been there.

Six or seven weeks after, his Aunt having occasion to look into the Trunk, and missing this bag, was much amazed, telling her Husband; who did not know whom to impeach, ex∣cept

a certain necessitous person that frequented the house: who knowing himself innocent, and yet not withstan∣ding accus'd as guilty, did not know what to do, but takes notice of all co∣mers & goers; and at last was given to understand by some of Postell's Com∣rades, that he spent his money like a Prince, and that his Incomes would not answer those Expences: where∣upon he informs his Uncle; who in∣quir'd narrowly into his Nephews life, and found what was told him was too true: But not being willing to shame him, as being his Kinsman, gave him wholsome and severe Admoniti∣ons, and withal, notice to his Father and Mother. The Father being much afflicted at this his Sons deportment, came to Paris, and would have had his Uncle severely punish him. His Uncle being angry at the loss, would not expose him; and thinking that he might one day be reduced, he pro∣mising an amendment to his Fa∣ther,

was received again into favour: but being not able to live without his accustomed pleasures, turn'd to his Debauch again, addicting himself more than ever to his old Cronies; among whom it was at length resolved to get a fresh Stock, for their Purses had been a long time empty: They thereupon take a house, under pre∣tence of making it a house for En∣tertainment, where they shewed themselves very courteous and noble; so that a great many young Students, newly come to town, visited them. They had on their parts returned all the civility imaginable, until they had found out who had the most mo∣ney; and their usual course was to draw them along with them to their house; where being entred, after the usual Compliment, set themselves to play: The money being laid down on the table, one of the Comrades, seeming to come in as a stranger, would snatch all and run away.

One of the Gang, a great Debau∣ché, being not able to continue his courses without supplies, resolves with himself on a Murther: Where∣fore he goes one morning to one Mr. Gantier, dwelling in Paris; a man of unblamable Conversation, and who had been Tutor to this Scholar, and resolves to kill him and plunder his house. Coming therefore to the door of this Gantier, the Chamber∣maid, who knew him, let him in; where entering, he findes Gantier a∣bed. This good old man asked him how he did, and what progress he made in his Studies; and for answer he stab'd him with his Dagger. This Servant which let him in was a well∣bred maid, and Kin to Gantier, and kept his house, and who was promi∣sed in marriage to a good honest Tradesman; she coming into the Chamber and hearing the noise, had her throat cut by this Villain: which done, he opens the Trunks, and findes

there Plate, and some small matter 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Money, and so departs. But think in to conceal his horrid fact, sets fire o•• the house, hoping that the house be••∣ing in a flame, these two Corp•• would be consum'd: but the fire b•• the Neighbours diligence was p•• out, and these two poor creatur•• were found most cruelly murthere•• The Villain findes his mind so harrass'•• and tormented by the thoughts 〈◊〉〈◊〉 what he had done, that he could no•• by any means get into his Lodging being laid hold on by some Neigh∣bours who knew that he frequente•• Mr. Gantier's house, not knowin•• though that he was the Author o•• these Villanies; but being taken there was the things before-nam'•• found about him; and being had be•• fore a Justice, he was committed, an•• within a short time hang'd and burn•• at la Greve.

As soon as ever Postell and his Com∣panions had notice of his being taken

they get as fast as they cou'd out of the City; but this our Rascal cou'd not leave the Town without some Rogues trick. He was wont to be often at a Tavern neer his Lodging, and was usually respected as one of the best Guests; which he being sen∣sible of, makes bold to request of the Vintner to lend him his horse for two or three days, pretending to go see his Father: which was lent him without difficulty. Postell being thus gone from Paris, goes to Beauvais, where he sells the horse to an honest Merchant; who thinking he had gotten an honest bargain, trucks him away for another more to his minde. He with whom he had exchang'd came some while after to Paris, where thinking to sell the horse, he was known by the Inne-keeper who had lent him to Postell: whereupon he seizes the horse, and proves that he was his. The other returns to Beauvais, where the Mer∣chant who had bought him of Postell

was forc'd to return the money. Po∣stell had shifted his abode, and wa•• march'd to Abbeville; and comin•• neer to a Wood, it being late, and h•• having neither Sword nor Stick to de∣fend himself, met with two Thieves who being exceeding earnest afte•• their Prey, thought they had foun•• what they had lookt for, seeing Po∣stell. He being confident enough i•• himself, wou'd not retreat, but keeping on his way, comes up to him, who demanded of him his money, swearing Damn 'um and Sink 'um, that if he did not presently deliver, he was a•• dead man. He being not accustom'd to give but to take, could not relish this Summons; but without being a whit afraid, made answer he had none; and at the same time laying suddenly his hand on one of the Thieves Swords, who stood not well on his guard, he wrench'd it out of his hand, giving him with it such a blow on the arm, that the pain took

away all sense: which having done, ••e sets upon the other, who less va∣••ant than his Companion, betakes ••imself to his heels; but Postell pur∣••'d him so neerly that he made him ••ield himself to his mercy, who gave ••im his life, after severe checks for ••etting upon his Master. He returns ••o the other whom he had first struck, ••hreatning to kill him if he delivered ••ot his money. He wou'd have ex∣cused himself, as having none; pro∣••nising him, that if he wou'd go along with him to the first house after they had come out of the Wood, he wou'd help him to some. Postell not think∣ing that the other was laying an Am∣bush for him, follows him; so that having went through the Wood, he enters with this Thief into an Inne, the Master whereof was a meer Rogue, and of correspondence with these Rescals.

Being very well used by this Inne-keeper, who said he was kin to this

Thief who had conducted him thithe•• he receives Ten Crowns; and pro∣fessing plainly what he was, he wa•• the more kindly entertain'd, it being agreed he should stay and dwell there and have every thing necessary, and go partners in all booty.

A while after this, a Gentleman o•• Picardy, a very discreet and valian•• person as any in his time, return'd from England, after having staid some time at Calais; and having taken the Road of Amiens, he rides through•• Abbeville; where he would not stay being willing to reach farther: so that he went through this Wood, and wa•• forc'd, by the nights approach, to pu•• in at this Inne.

Being in his Chamber, after having had every thing fitting, he perceive the Servant to weep as she was making his bed, and was secretly informed by her of the danger he was in. A∣mongst other things, she told him. 'Twas the Inne-keepers oustome to

ring a Bell, at the sound of which ••veral Rogues came running; when ••esently one of them feigning to be ••ervant to the Inne, comes to the Chamber where the Guests are, and ••aking as if he would snuff the Can∣••le, would put it out: upon which ••he other Villains would enter and ••ll upon them, and so most cruelly ••urther them, there being none that ••ould escape them.

This Gentleman considering with ••imself what to do, causeth the Maid ••o bring him a Lanthorn, and puts a Candle lighted in it, and hiding his ••anthorn under a stool, lays ready his Arms, and stands upon his guard.

When scarcely had he sat himself down, but a great boorish fellow en∣••ers, who very officiously, as Servant of the house, so snuffs the Candle that he snuffs it out; but the Gen∣tleman causes presently his man to bring out the Lanthorn, repels the Villains, who came pesle mesle upon

him, killing some of them, and puts the others to flight; seizes on the Inne-keeper, and delivers him into the hands of Justice.

Postell saves himself, and returns a∣gain to Paris, and lodgeth with a Gen∣tleman, a stranger, in the Suburbs o•• St. Germaine. This person had a con∣siderable sum of Money, together with a great Chain of gold, and seve∣ral Rings, which he ever carried abou•• him. Our Rascal, willing to ge•• them from him, so prevailed with him, that he got him to walk with him towards the Wood of Vincennes▪ where, being amongst the Vines, he sets upon him, and having seized on him unawares, he cuts two of his fin∣gers off his hand, and gives him two stabs with a Dagger into his back, thinking that he had kill'd him. Thi•• done, he takes the Money and Rings and returns to the City. The Gen∣tleman (who pretended himself worse than he was) makes a shift to rise and

crawl to the House of a Peasant near ••y, who took what care he could of ••im.

From thence he was carri'd assoon as ••ver he could bear it, to Paris, where ••e sends for the Provost of the Island, ••nd relates what passed, describing ••o him, as near as he could, the per∣••on; he made search for him about ••ll the University, and was at last ••et withal as he would have leaped ••own from the Colledge of de Lysieux ••to the Ditches.

He was carried to the Chatelet, ••here being put on the Rack, he con∣••esseth these and several other Villa∣••ies, for which he was Sentenced ••o be broken on the Wheel; but, ••owsoever it came to pass, he died ••x hours (whether he poysoned him∣••elf or no, or by some other means) ••efore the Officers came to fetch him ••o Execution.

CHAP. VIII. The Life and Death of Vero•• born at Compeigne in France

NOt far from the place where th•• Rivers of Oire and of Ene joy•• together that they may come in th•• same course to lose their Names i•• the Seine, there stands a pleasant an•• stately City called Compeigne, fa∣mous for its Antiquity, having bee•• built by Charles le Chauve or th•• Bauld, taking from him its name 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Carlopolis. This City has all the ad∣vantages desireable; for it enjoys most excellent Air, and admirab•• Prospect, being every way most ple•• santly seated; on the one side she 〈◊〉〈◊〉 watered with the River Oire, whic•• separateth her by a great and spacio••

Meadow, bordered with fruitful ••ines and all sorts of Grain: On the ••ther side half a League distant it ••ath a large and level Forest.

The Kings of France were wont 〈◊〉〈◊〉 divert themselves in this City, by ••ason of its convenient scituation ••r Hunting, especially in the said ••orest, which may be justly said to ••e one of the best in all France.

'Twas in this Forest and thereabout ••here Veron play'd his Devilish ••ranks; and as an other Antheus ••nged and ransack'd all the neigh∣••ouring parts; there being scarcely ••y one who durst be so bold as to ••eet him, so cruel and barbarous was ••e. It will not be here amiss to ••eak something of his Parentage and ••xtraction, before we relate any of ••is horrid and abominable actions.

He came then of one of the best ••amilies of Compeigne; but gave ••imself over from his Youth to Cruel∣••y and Rapines, and all manner of

Licentiousness; yet nevertheless, bei•• born of honest Parents, he light 〈◊〉〈◊〉 a good Match in the said City; b•• alas! when we leave God he leav•• us, and suffers all our Affairs to d•• cline.

Veron had no sooner entred in•• possession of his Estate, but bega•• immediately to abuse his Wife, a•• to pawn and make away all the•• had, that he might keep lewd co•• pany, and be continually at Taver•• and Alehouses; this course of Li•• lasted not long, drunkenness being Labyrinth, in which those who a•• plunged, cannot get out when the•• please.

Having spent some years after th•• sort, he found himself at length stri•• of all things necessary, so that his Wiv•• friends would have 'em-parted, as we•• for the present want he had reduce•• her to, as for the injuries he con•• nually did her, pawning not one•• his own Cloaths, but hers likewi••

that he might have wherewithal to ••rnish his drunken appetite: which ••roceeding was not a little hard of ••igestion to her, who being as yet ••oung, was not a little troubled to ••e her self used after this manner.

All the admonitions his Parents ••sed were to no purpose, being so ••abituated in Vice and naughtiness. ••rom that very time he despised all ••ood Counsel, and began to range the Woods, being sometimes eight days ••efore he returned home; so that ••e was often held for dead, by reason ••f his so long absence.

There was scarcely any thing else ••alk'd of but Thieves in that Forest; ••nd scarcely durst any one pass by ••here, being sure if they did, to be ••obb'd: sometimes he was on that ••ide which lies towards Pierrefonds, ••nd other times towards Verberie. There was not a Hole or Cavern in ••he Forest he knew not: Somtimes ••e would take the Field, and vaul∣ted

on the other side the Water, a•• bout the Borders of Vernelle Rem•• and other circumjacent places: An•• that which gave the most admiratio•• was, that having committed an•• Murther or Robbery in a place, h•• would be seen two or three hours a•• ter at least eight or nine Leagues o•• thence.

This person was of a great siz•• being a huge massie Fellow, and, lik•• another Hercules, would by hi•• strength do things beyond concep•• tion. One day being pursued in th•• City by the Justices Officers, wh•• were resolved to have him examine•• concerning his way of living, he ca•• himself from the Bridge into the Ri•• ver near where the Boats are hale•• up the Water; the Tide running i•• that place with such a rapid swift•• ness, that when a man could not swim•• it would carry him half a Leagu•• without stirring himself. Veron cas•• himself in there, and (which wa••

never before seen) he was so strong, that maugre the force of the River, he made up and ascended the Key. This action was admired by every one, as indeed it might well.

The Woods were the ordinary places of his retreat; he lurk'd there all the day-time, and was often seen on a Tree with his Harquebuss watch∣ing the Passengers. It is reported for certain he kill'd in one day six Merchants, who were all of them re∣turning from a Fair not far distant thence. In short, all the parts there∣abouts trembled with fear at his cru∣elties: he on the other side when he was flusht, returned to Compeigne, and no one durst be so bold as to af∣front him, carrying on always his busi∣ness so slyly, that 'twas impossible to finde certain proofs against him.

It hapned about the year 1609, when France was calm'd by a long and happy Peace, that people from all parts, as 'tis the custom, came to

the general Match of Shooting, every one striving who should bear away the Prize.

Veron being a man who loved to shew himself, would not let slip this occasion, resolving with himself to make one amongst them; but that for which he was most concerned was, that he had no Money, and not one of his Relations would lend him any, being by them well enough known to be a bad Husband; not∣withstanding which, he was resolved to furnish himself some how or o∣ther, imagining people would reflect on him not appearing on so eminent an occasion; and seeing on the other side he could borrow none, he re∣solved in his minde to get some by force.

It is to be remarked, that about a quarter of a League beyond Com∣peigne, upon the side of the Wood, near the great Road which leads to Soissons, there is a little Hermitage,

called the Cross of the holy Signe, where there lives continually Her∣mits who come begging to the City: There is likewise a very decent Chappel, where many people, whose occasions lie that way, turn in to make their Prayers.

In this Hermitage dwelt then two good old Fathers; one of them was called Frater Claudus, the other's name I do not remember. Now Ve∣ron was wont very often, after he had been weary with ranging the Wood, to retire there. They ever gave him entrance when he knock'd at their Gate, and also imparted to him what they had gotten in the Ci∣ty. He had frequented this Hermi∣tage for at least two years before this business of the Shooting-match was talk'd of; so that notwithstanding all the bad reports which were con∣tinually noised of him, these Fathers were not afraid of him, and ceased not to receive him whensoever he li∣sted

to put in with them. But the easie access which they gave him, lost 'em: For frequenting there so often, he came at length to know they both had Money; he would not howsoever have harmed them, could he otherways have effected his bu∣siness; but finding himself urged by want of Money, and knowing he must contribute his part to the Prize, which was to a very rich one, and that very speedily; he resolves there∣upon to rob these Hermits, and take from them their Money, but he knew not what means to use that people might not mistrust him: but behold what he did! one night about eight of the clock, 'twas about Whitson∣••ide, when the days were at longest, as he was about to go out of the Ci∣ty, he asks of two several persons what a clock 'twas; he was told it was eight; upon which he strikes into a little Street that leads out of the Gate, and was so quick, that

scarcely was he half an hour in his way to the Hermitage, where he en∣ters, no body without seeing him go in, where he addresses himself to the Eldest of the two Hermits, (for the other was gone to draw Water out of a Well hard by there) and de∣mands his Purse. The good old Se∣nior thought he was in jest, not ma∣king any reckoning of what he said; but was immediately astonish'd fin∣ding himself on the Ground by a blow given him by this Parricide, seconding it by another with his Poignard about his left-breast: the Hermit feeling himself thus struck, shewed him the place where his Mo∣ney lay; the other redoubles not∣withstanding his blows▪ piercing him to the Heart, and so was dispatched without any farther noise; for Veron held his Foot on his Throat; which having done, he takes his Money, amounting to about three hundred Livers.

Frater Claudus in the mean time returns from the Well with his Buc∣ket of Water, not in the least suspe∣cting what had hapned, and sees Ve∣ron standing before the Wicket of the Hermitage: being entred, he sees likewise his Companion on the Ground, and began to cry out; but Veron made up to him with a Coun∣tenance witnessing fury, and with his Dagger struck him in the Brea••, laying him likewise half dead wal∣lowing in his own Blood on the ground, who never spake any other words than these; Ah, Veron, thou kill'st me; is it possible my Age can∣not stop the Fury which boils in thy Soul? These words howsoever could not hinder this Tyrant (for so I call him, seeing he betook himself to two such religious persons) but that he pierced his Heart at the second stroke.

This Murther, or rather Sacriledge, being committed, he gave himself

the leisure to light two Torches which were in the Chappel, and lay'd them both strecht out one upon another, setting the two Torches at their Feet: then charging himself with the Money, shuts the Gate, and throws the Keys into the Field, and returns to Compeigne: And that which was most to be admired was, that he did all this in one quarter of an hour; so that he came into the City at half an hour after eight, without any bo∣dies having perceived him, except a Baker's Boy, who coming through the Woods, and passing by this Her∣mitage, heard one of these Fathers cry out, Ah Veron thou kill'st me. And that he might not be thought to have done this, he came imme∣diately to the same persons of whom he had demanded half an hour be∣fore what a clock it was, asking them the same question, who answer∣ed him 'twas half an hour past eight. Veron did this, that he might have

Witness, if there should be occasio•• that he had been in Town when th•• act was done.

This Tragedy being acted afte•• this manner, he returns to his Lod∣ging, not letting his Wife know wha•• an abominable villainy he came fro•• committing. Two days are pas•• without any bodies taking notice o•• the Hermits not coming to the Ci∣ty: Veron however fail'd not to wall•• about the Town, as assuredly as e∣ver. At length some devout Wo∣men going to visit the Hermits, found the Doors of the Hermitage, as also of the Chappel shut, contrary to cu∣stome; upon which they began to suspect something; which suspition nevertheless was suspended, being told by some there by, they were probably gone out in the Country nevertheless there was one among the rest who advised the Door to be broke open, that they were perhaps sick, or some other sad disaster had befallen them.

This Counsel was put in execution, ••ausing two Smiths to come from the Town to-break open the Doors; which being done, they found the two Hermits stretcht out dead upon the Ground; at the sight of which they were struck with horrour and amazement: they search'd the Corpse, and found the Wounds near the Heart, the Bodies beginning already to putrifie.

Which being known in the City, they were all astonish'd at so dreadful a relation, flocking to see this woful spectacle: Veron came amongst the rest, and made shew of no small sor∣row for the loss of these two good Fathers, cursing with a hundred im∣precations those who had done this wicked fact: They, saith he, must cer∣tainly have a great stock of Cruelty and Hardheartedness, who have exe∣cuted so execrable a perfidiousness to have killed two so Religious and De∣vout Personages, even at the very Eve∣ning

of their days: they must cer∣tainly, saith he, be possessed with dia∣bolical fury; speaking which words, he could not so much palliate his fact, but the motions of his Soul were apparent in his Face; the near∣er he approach'd to the Hermitage, the more he found himself agitated by, I know not what kinde of chil∣liness and fear, which caused those who accompanied him not a little to su∣spect him. This suspition took dee∣per root in the mindes of the Assi∣stants, when he came before the Corpse of the two poor Hermits; for at the same time the Corpse, which were dry and withered, having bled all the Blood in their Veins, began then to bleed again a fresh; whereupon all the people began unanimously to cry out that there must be one in the com∣pany concerned, seeing the dead Corpse so plainly called for ven∣geance; at which, every one cast their Eyes on Veron: nevertheless by

his Meine he endeavoured to put by ••he suspition conceived of him; but his Conscience feeling it self tor∣mented within him, suffered him not ••o rest, but as a Vulture was inces∣santly a gnawing his Heart, making outwardly appear the inward resent∣ments of his Soul.

The Officers came to take away the Bodies; during which all the Ci∣tizens cast their Eyes on Veron; his frequenting the Hermitage not a lit∣tle strengthening their suspition; yet durst they not immediately accuse him, there being not any who could come in as a Witness against him.

Their suspition of him daily in∣creasing, there was scarcely any thing else talk'd of, or concluded on, but that he was the Author. There was all enquiries imaginable made to finde out something to strengthen them in this their conjecture; and at last the Baker's Boy, of whom we have before spoken, attested that

he heard about eight a clock at night the Hermit, who cried out, Veron, tho•• kill'st me; upon which simple de∣position, and upon the joynt con∣jectures of the people, it was resol∣ved on to apprehend him; but th•• difficulty was how to seize on hi•• without blows, for should he have th•• least notice, he would not have stai•• long at Compeigne; (although h•• said since that, he could never hav•• imagined they would dare to la•• hold on him upon so frivolous con∣jectures) nevertheless they appoin∣ted out the day and manner of taking him, making a match with him t•• play at Tennis (a Game very ordi∣nary in Picardy) just before the Pri∣son-gate.

The day appointed being come two or three Citizens came to him asking him whether he would g•• out to take some recreation; he be∣ing a man who was mightily fo•• Company, agreed; whereupon they

walk'd together till they came over against the great Gate of the Prison, where they set to their Game: they who should seze on him, fail'd not in great numbers to appear there, lest any resistance should happen, for he was exceeding strong and robust, and would have given them their hands full, had he had but notice of their designe. As he was in the midst of his Game, there was a Ser∣jeant who trundled slily a Ball into the Entry of the Prison, praying Ve∣ron to step for't; whereupon he goes, but was astonish'd seeing him∣self set upon by twelve or fourteen Officers, who charged him in the Kings Name to yield himself: Veron was not a little amaz'd, seeing him∣self taken after that manner, being ready to burst with rage and fury, running about the Prison like a mad∣man, seeking something to do mis∣chief withal; and to say the truth, they who lay'd hands on him had

enough to do with him; yet notwith∣standing all his efforts, he was forced to contain himself within the Prison∣walls, being loaded with Irons.

In the mean time they draw'd up his Process, there coming from all parts those which deposed against him, being accused of divers Thefts and Robberies committed both in the Woods and elsewhere; but not one of them could say any thing a∣gainst him touching the Murther he was cast into Prison for, excepting the Baker's Boy, who affirmed that upon such a day he had heard, as he passed by the Hermitage, the fore∣mentioned Words. He for his de∣fence brought in two Citizens of good repute, who affirmed they had seen him in the Town at eight a clock, and at half an hour after eight; withal adding, 'twas impossible he could perform such an Enterprize in so little a time: this made them all at a stand, putting them in doubt

what to think of it. Several of the Court seeing no sufficient proof, went from their Seats, and would be no farther concerned, fearing lest they should give a wrong judgement through want of certain knowledge, knowing not what to think of it. Likelihood indeed there was, but no sufficient proof; yet howsoever, fin∣ding they could get nothing from him but a bare negation, and that the tortures of the Rack could not make him confess this crime, they procee∣ded notwithstanding upon probabili∣ties, and the other undeniable crimes which he was proved guilty of, for which he was sentenced to be broken on the Wheel, which did not a little daunt him; for there was no appeal; he must on force undergo it, though it went to the Heart of him, being in the flower of his age. There was sent to him a Confessor to prepare him for death; but he would by no means hear on't: for although condemned, he flat∣tered

himself with the hope he should not die this bout; but seeing there was no respit given him, they endea∣voured by degrees to dispose him for his passage.

This man had an undaunted Spirit, and could not be brought to the be∣lief he should die in the flower of his age: He threatned and calum∣niated his Judges, bidding defiance to Heaven and Earth, foaming with rage and despair, fury having so much possessed him that scarcely the Priest his Confessor durst approach him.

He at length confessed to the Priest; but when he came to speak to him concerning his murthering of the Hermits, he cast it back with a thousand Oaths and imprecations: saying that in truth he had committed several Robberies; but touching the Hermits, so horrid a thing never so much as once entred into his minde.

It will not be perhaps impertinent

to speak a word or two concerning ••is Death, being as tragical as his Life was, and strange and horrible.

He was led then at five of the clock 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the Evening to the place of Exe∣••ution, there being such a multitude 〈◊〉〈◊〉 people who came from all parts ••o see him, that the whole City was ••lled with them. Veron being come on the Scaffold, which was set up before St. Cornille's Church, shewed outwardly in his countenance the dis∣dainful haughtiness which boiled in∣wardly in his minde.

'Twas observed during the time ••e was in Prison, notwithstanding the ••rons on his Legs, he would turn and ••hrow himself more nimbly than a∣••other man could who had none on: but here 'twas otherwise; for assoon as ever he was on the Scaffold, he walk'd about it with his Arms across, taking ••en or a dozen turns thereon, look∣••ng more like a man despairingly ••ad, than one who had made his

Peace with God, or who had a becom•• ing apprehension of death; Choler ha•• painted on his Front a kinde of da•• ring boldness. When his Sentenc•• was reading, he listned to it with matchless gravity, stroaking his Mu•• staches, as a person who cared littl•• for Death, and who believed h•• should not die that day: and indee•• had he found the Bar with whic•• he was to be broken, the Executio•• ner and others too would have bee•• in danger to have lost their Lives for it angred him so much to leave•• so young and robust as he was, thi•• World, that he would have hew'•• his way through Rocks and Moun∣tains to have escaped.

But in the reading of the Sen∣tence, when he heard he was con∣demned for having assassinated an•• barbarously murthered two poor Her∣mits, he cried aloud three times, tha•• the Judge lied, and that he was s•• far from doing any such thing, tha••

i•• never so much as came once into 〈◊〉〈◊〉 thoughts.

There were two men sent for on ••rpose for to finish his Execution, ••om he warned not to come near 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and that he'd never suffer him∣••f to be lay'd on the Wheel by ••e: and to make appear that he ••d great strength, he was seen nine ••es one after another down on the ••ffold, and the Executioners upon 〈◊〉〈◊〉; notwithstanding which, he got ••p from them, and every time he got ••p he began his walks, cursing the day 〈◊〉〈◊〉 which he was born, wishing a ••ousand plagues to fall upon them ••ho had condemned him, and espe∣••ally cursing and damning the Judge ••ho pronounced his Sentence; be∣••g mad chiefly, amongst the rest, that ••e should be the first this Judge, ••eing newly made, ever had begun ••ithal. At length, seeing he could ••ot escape, and that he must die, he ••ields, but with much ado; for his

vigorous youth could not suffer 〈◊〉〈◊〉 self to be blossom'd so soon.

He was laid on the Cross then, o•• which he was broken alive: h•• Heart of steel, which could not b•• moved before, after having endure•• exceeding great torments, began t•• bethink it self; wherefore he cal•• his Confessor, to whom it is thoug•• he declared the whole matter. An•• so, after a long struggling with Deat•• he was at length overcome by him.