How Gamaliell Ratsey first left to bee a Scholler and became a Souldier.

THerefore I first thought good to make knowne, that at the time that the right honourable the Earle of Essex went into Ire­land, this Gamaliell Ratsey ven­tured his fortunes ouer with him, being at that time very young, and vnskilfull in ma­naging of any Martiall affaires: yet hee spent much time in those warres, and was very venturous and hote-spirited, and profited not a lit­tle, as well in knowledge, as in the commendations of his Commanders: For in any publike designes or skir­mishes, he was not slacke to shew forwardnesse, and in any priuate quarrell, very resolute to repell iniuries. Insomuch, as in those parts he was then thought wor­thy from a priuate Gentleman of a Company to bée made Sergeant. Which place hée remained in vnder the Company of Captaine Langford, till the time that my Lord of Deuonshire came out of Ireland, and brought ouer Tyrone, after the death of our late Soueraigne La­dy Queene Elizabeth.

How Ratsey first fell into theft, by what meanes, and in what place, and how he was imprisoned in Spalding, with his dangerous escape out of prison in his shirt.

AT the Earle of Deuonshires returne in­to England, the said Ratsey came like­wise backe againe, & shaped his course through the Country, homewards to the place where he was borne, where it is bootelesse to tell what pranckes hee performed in his iourney. But this at his arriuall at home, though it was first, yet was it not the least of his exploites, for he gulld the seruant, deceiued the maister, and escaped for that time out of prison. But as Eue­ry euill act hath his euill end: so his successe was so hard, that he was crost almost to the crosse, and that is the next neighbour to the gallowes; and miserere mei, had beene the best mattens, had not one paire of legges been better then two paire of hands.

For thus it fortuned, that not long after his comming home out of Ireland, he went to a Market towne cal­led Spalding, not farre from the place where hee was borne, where comming into an Inne in the same towne, he insinuated himselfe into the loue and league of a ser­uant, Maid in the same house, with whom he preuailed so farre, what with his pleasing speach (and with what else he pleased her I know not) that hee was the onely man in the maides estimation. Insomuch that in his absence (for he was comming and going thither often) the Maide preuailed so with her Mistresse, that hée be­fore any other guest should bee admitted the priuiledge [Page]of the Parlour. But as had-I-wist comes too late, and kindnesse oftentimes receiues not her deserued effects. So fell it out in this his so sodaine intertainment: for he only made that his mean to awaite some oportunitie, when he might spie out a purchase and effect his pur­pose, as it shortly after fell out he did.

For a Farmer, or husband-man, comming to the same Inne (as it was his custome vpon Market dayes) to pay a matter of fortie pounds to a Gentleman dwel­ling there, which was due vpon a bond, called the Ho­stesse aside, and desired her, that she would lay vp the same safe for him (being sealed vp in a bagge) till the Market was done, which shee receyued, and promi­sed to doe accordingly. And comming into the Par­lor where Ratsey remained, she shewed herselfe nothing squeamish to shew what trust was reposed in her: but locking the same in a Presse, he thought (that her backe once turned) hee would discharge her of that charge. For as hee had an Eagles eye to espie aduauntage, so had he a Lions heart to effect his purpose: for hée was not long hammering it in his head, but with a quicke dispatch, vnlocked the Presse, and pocketted the bagge. Which when he had got, it was bootelesse to bid him haste away: for he presently bade them farewell in the Inne for a while, and told them hée would but walke into the market, and come againe by and by, although he meant nothing lesse, and they mistrusted nothing at all. But hée hied home to Deeping, where in his Mothers Orchard, hee digged a pitte, and buried the bagge of money, doubting there would bee search made after him for it, and not [...]g found about him, or in his mothers house, it would be out their yea, and his nay, and so the matter might hee the more easily aun­swered.

Now you must imagine, that the market béeing done, and the Farmer calling for his bagge of money, and the Hostesse finding that the same was taken out of the Cupboord, and her Presse opened, was not a little perplexed in minde, but it stroke such a quanda­rie to her stomacke, as if shée had drunke a draught of small beere next her heart in a feostie morning. Shee came backe to the Farmer, with her handes emptie, and her heart full of cares, exclayming agaynst Rat­sey, whome shée remembred shee left in the Parlour, but that auayled nothing. Thereupon they both went to a Iustice of Peace dwelling neere Spalding, and ope­ning their sayde griefes and losses, desired his warrant to bring Ratsey before him, which hee graunted, and they procured to bée serued by a Constable of Deeping. So Ratsey béeing apprehended, and brought before the Iustice, stoode stiffely in the deniall thereof, and was committed to the safe keeping of the Gayler, vpon suspition of felonie.

Where he had not long remained, but money was wanting vnto him, and he had no meanes to relieue his necessities in prison, but to reueale the hiding of the money in the sayde Orchard, and therefore bethought him whome in such a case hee might make the same knowne vnto, with his best securitie. Wherevpon hée resolued to make none acquainted therewithall, but his owne mother, to whom hee addressed secret knowledge thereof. Which when shee heard, shee was in a great perplexitie what to doe, whether she should proue vnna­turall in reuealing the same, or by concealing it, ha­zard her reputation in the Countrey. In the which she was alwayes verie well esteemed with the most and best, both for wisedome and vertue.

His mother to be further aduised, reuealed it to [Page]her daughter dwelling in the same Towne, her daugh­ter to her husband, and so from one to another, (as two may keepe counsaile, if the third be away:) it came to the Iustices hearing, where, and in what place, and vn­der what trée in the Orchard it was hidden.

Ratsey hauing secret information of notice giuen to the Iustice, and that he should be further examined con­cerning the same, knew that deniall would not then serue his turne, but resolued to set all his wits abroach, to frée himselfe from their hands, which could by no meanes bee done, but by escape, which he effected in a morning betimes, out of a very narrow passage in his shirt.

But the time was not long after his escape before he was missed, and hast made after him on euery side, both by horse and foote. He was egerly pursued, yet knew the Country well; and was a long space followed so hardly, that he was at last forced to a very dangerous great wa­ter, which he tooke and swamme ouer; and being ouer, he staid and turned himselfe towards them, and after some brauadoes giuen them, (for he knew none of them durst follow him) he went his way and out-stript them all.

A kinde conceipt of Ratsey, performed by him in his way vpon a Seruing-man that ouer-tooke him by chance, riding to London with his Maisters horse to fetch him from the Tearme.

AFter he had made this escape, hée tooke his way to a friend of his not farre off, with whom hee might bee bolde for sute of apparrel, and to furnish him with such necessaries as his case required. The [Page]which his friend furnished him withall, and put some small matter of money into his purse to beare his char­ges, for he knew as soone as Ratsey had strooke a hand, he should be no loser by it.

Ratsey, as a man then halfe armed to enterprise any exploit, and well flesht by his late escape, tooke his iour­ney on towards London, thinking there to finde men of all faculties, and copes-mates to fit his humour in e­uery condition. For although by the great discretion of the Iudges and Iustices, many are daily trussed vp, yet still there springeth vp yong that grow, in time, to beare fruit fit for the gallowes.

As hée had thus trauailed two or thrée daies to­wardes London, booted and spurrd, and afoote, hee turning backe to breathe himselfe, being wearie, e­spied a Seruing-man riding after him with a spare nagge, for hée ledde his owne horse in his hande, and roade vppon his Maisters Gelding; which good opportunitie was soone apprehended by Ratsey, for hée presentlie beganne to call his wittes about him, and to bethinke him howe hee might ouer-reach the plaine seruing creature that followed him. Who no sooner ouer-tooke him, but hée straitway vailde his bonnet at the sight of Maister Ratsey; who seeing the young Nouice so full of curtesse, resolued to re­pay him with craft ere they parted. For Ratsey fell presentlie a questioning with him, if hée didde not ouer-goe a Seruing-man leading a Gelding (as hee did) in his hand? who made him answer, that he met not any such. Then Ratsey beganne to faine himselfe in a fustian sume, and swore his man should neither carry it to hell nor heauen for abusing him so, for I bade him follow mee (saith hee) and he sure mistooke mee, thinking I would ride to such a Gentlemans to night, [Page]and hath so left me as thou séest. But if thou béest an ho­nest fellow (quoth hee) let me ride vpon thy léere horse and I will giue thée a couple of shillings to drinke. The séely fellow gréedie of two shillings, (for it was a great deale of money in his purse) and séeming to be sory that such an honest Gentleman (as he thought) should goe a foote and he a space horse in his hand, gaue his good will, which Ratsey tooke hold of, and presently mounted him­selfe. So they roade a great part of the day together, passing the way with much idle prattle. But yet Ratsey was not satisfied in his minde, that the Seruingman should ride vppon the best Gelding, and not hee, and resolued to haue a fling at him for that too.

So the afternoone being well spent, and night drawing on, Ratsey beganne to betake himselfe to his first discontent, and roade a prettie way with­out any chat or prattle, as hee hadde before. Which the simple Seruing-man perceiuing, thought hee would chéere him vppe alitle, and beganne to aske him how hée did, and what ayled him: Ratsey told him his mans negligence stucke still in his stomacke, and hée could not forget it. For saith hée, I am now néere the place where I intende to lie all night, and I haue many worshipfull friendes and kinsfolkes there, and it grieues mee to the heart, that I should bee séene come riding into the Towne in such a fa­shion and so meanelie horsed, for I tell thee (friend saieth hee) I neuer came thither without my man or twoo with mee, and a very good Gelding vnder mee.

The Seruingman hearing this, told him, if that were al if his Masters gelding would pleasure him, he should ride on that, and hee would change horses with him. [Page]Yes mary quoth Ratsey, (for he aimed at that) for I hold thy Maisters Gelding to be worth some twentie ponnd: he cost not a penny lesse, quoth the Seruingman. So they interchange horses, and riding on, Ratsey per­swaded him, séeing he had béen thus kind, to do him one other pleasure, and he would pay for his horse meate and mans meate that night, and set him forth frée in the morning, with somewhat in his purse to drinke. The Seruingman asked of him what it was; nothing (saies he) but to lie at my Inne too night, and be to me as my man, and I will reward thy paines, for thou shalt both saue thine owne charges, and continue my credite. That I will (saith he) with all my heart, and doe you the best seruice I can.

So the séely fellow for that night became Ratseys man, and comming to the Inne, the horses were set vp, and he commanded his man to direct that supper should bée prouided. Which being done, and supper ended, Ratsey goes into the stable, and giues order that his horses be well drest and looked too. For ( [...]aies he) my man is but new come to me, and I dare not as yet trust him with dressing my Gelding, which the Ostlers promised to do accordingly. And perceiuing the gentleman to be a kind man, they thought they would doe some kindnesse to his seruant in the bottome of the Seller. For while Ratsey was playing at dice aboue, with some others that were there, his new man was carowsing below. And wan­ting that vim etentiuam, and abilitie that the rest had to carry their liquor, he beganne to fell Dakes in the Tap­house, and his best braines were wrapt in a leaden cap: for he was so heauie in the head, that he could not stand on his feete. So he was had to bed presently.

It fitted Ratseys purpose well, that while hée lost his money at Dice, his man did gaine his loading with [Page]drinke, for hee had an intention to sende him away on foote, and so he did. For by that they had done playing, the morning beganne to waxe gray, and hée fell a bar­gayning for his best Gelding with the Host of the house, and receyued ninetéene pounds for him. Who was no lesse glad of the one, then Ratsey was of the o­ther. So he discharged the house, and commaunded his mans Nag to be sadled for him, (while he was all this while asleepe.)

Which being done, he left some small matter of mo­ney behind him for his man, and gaue order that hee should follow him to such a Gentlemans house, where he neuer meant to méete him, and so rode his way.

Now what a sorrowfull and troubled heart this yong Nouice had, when he rose and found his new mai­ster gone with his old maisters Geldings, I referre to to them that haue grieued at the like losse.

How Ratsey met George Snell, and Henrie Short­hose, and of their riding togither in North­hamtonshire, and his robbing of nine men alone.

RAtsey resolued after his late purchase, nei­ther to buy house or land with his xix. li. but séeking for copsmates of his owne condi­tion, that were as readie to liue vppon spoile as himselfe: at last her met with Shorthose an old friend and Countrey-man of his (for Shorthose was likewise borne in Market-deeping.) And although Shorthose (till hee perswaded him) neuer gaue consent to enter into anie malefaction, but was driuen for matter of debt to forsake his natiue [Page]countrey. Yet being very poore hee was glad of Ratseys companie, and holpe him to spend a great part of his money so lately, and so lewdly got, which in a little space drew néere an end, (for two hands in one pocket soone makes a light purse.)

Then came they both in companie by chaunce with Snell, whome Ratsey perceiued, as well by conference, as by countenance, (as Quam difficile est animam non pro­dere vultu) as apt to incline to desperate courses, as themselues, (as indeede hee had beene before,) for hée was twice burnt in the hand in Newgate for his bad conditions.

Well: they all layde their heades togither, and foorth they went, although none horsed but Ratsey, and layde theyr plottes for Northamtonshire, and those partes, for there hée was most skilfull of the Countrey: and comming to a place called Helpson-heath, they espyed nine men riding towards them to­gether, that were bound for London. Ratsey resolued to shew his resolution vppon them, and bade his other companions to goe on the infide of the Hedge into a cop­pice, while he lay on the outside cracking of Nuts: and bade the other not come forth vnlesse they saw great ne­cessitie of their helpe.

The men drew somewhat neere the place where Ratsey lay, and being within sight of him, one of them knew him, (for they were all Lincolneshire men) and bade the rest bee resolued to loose their purses now, for (sayeth hee) yonder lyes Ratsey, whom I know to bee a daungerous and desperate fellow, and he awaytes no­thing but a prey.

Ratsey makes roughly towardes them, and tolde them that he came for money, and money he must haue, and would haue: therefore dispatch (quoth her) for one [Page]of your companie héere knowes me, and knowes I will not be trifled with.

On our faythes (sayde they) maister Ratsey, wee are no better prouided then will be are our charges to London, and that at the most is not twentie shillings a man, if you will haue that, you shall haue it with all our hearts. Nay (sayes Ratsey) that will doe mee no good: for it is well knowne I robbe not for trifles. But what haue you sir, sayes hee to one that stoode aloofe from the rest, in your Portmantgle? Fayth, sayes hee, I haue a little money that I am to pay vppon bond by a day, and wee are two or three of vs heere bound to pay it, if you take it from vs wee are vndone. How much is it, sayes Ratsey? Two hundred poundes (sayes the other) I Marrie, quoth Ratsey, such a lumpe I looke for. And seeing there are so many to pay it, it will not hurt you much if all of you loose it. Therefore be briefe, deliuer it, for if you stand vppon tearmes, or delayes with mee, I haue Whelpes within the inside of the Hedge, that vpon a Watch-worde will presently come foorth, and they neuer barke till they bite: if they stirre, it is all thinges to nothing, but some of you loose your liues, and your limmes. This beeing heard, the money was presently deliue­red, for of two euils, they thought it best to choose the least. And Ratsey, hee thought it the best cracking of Nuttes that euer he made, that yeelded such shelles; And so they parted.

How Ratsey robbed a Coniurer.

RAtsey had secrete notice giuen him of a Coniurer that was a maister of Artes, and a Scholler of Cambridge (for he had his intellegencers abroad, although a­gainst the state of the Common-wealth) and was directed which way hee roade, with his bookes of coniuration in a Cloake-bag behinde him. But Ratsey thought all his bookes should not saue him: for he meant to coniure him without booke, not so much for the money sake (for he had knowledge that the Scholler had not aboue fiue or sixe poundes aboute him.) But for that it should be sayd that he once in his life, his courage and spirit out-stript and daunted the cunning and arte of a Coniurer.

For following him till hee came in Bawtrie Lane, where hee intended this exployte, and which indeede is a verie daungerous place for theeuing, Ratsey made towardes him, and the Coniurer thought a good paire of Spurres better than Spelles or Coniuration at that time, and beganne to pricke forwardes his Horse, which indeede was so farre better then Ratseys, that had not Shorthose stept in, who lay to preuent his escape, the Coniurer had out-rid Ratsey, and saued both his bookes and money.

But now the Coniurer is in hucksters handling, there is no wap with him but one, for Ratsey seises both vpon his money and bookes, for the which the Coniurer pleads hard, but prou [...]es not. And thinking his paine had béene past, be begins to take his leaue of maister Ratsey, and to ride away: nay sayes Ratsey (and takes his horse by the head) I haue not done with you yet; I haue a quarrell to this gallant too, he must goe with me, for presuming to ouer­runne me: it may be you haue infusde some Arte into your horse, that may stand me in stéed hereafter, for I like him well at hand, howsoeuer he is at length. So the Coniu­rers horse went with Ratsey, which was an excellent good Gelding, for Ratsey was oftentimes offered xx. pound for him, which he refused, for he prooued so fit for his purpose, that all the prankes that Ratsey plaid afterwards, was vp­on the Coniurers horse.

The Coniurer he walkes now a foote, and had he not had two or thrée péeces of golde left in a secret place, which Ratsey found not, I thinke he would with Batillus haue hangd himselfe.

How Ratsey robd a Scholler of Cambridge, and causde him make an Oration to him in a Wood.

RAtsey another time riding by the way, and Snell and Shorthose with him, (for they still serued for his men, vnlesse vp­on the performance of any exploit) met with a Scholler, that had béene to re­ceiue a part of his wiues dowrie which was foure score pound and vpwards: And Ratsey pretending his course the same way that the Scholler did, they rode together a great while, they past away the time with much talke of many matters. And [Page]the Scholler (thinking at least he had béene in the compa­ny of a Knights soune and heire, for that Ratsey rode with his two men, one before, and another behinde) began to discourse of many former accidents, and after fell into com­plaint of the iniquitie of the time, the corruptions of mens conditions, and the obduracie & hardnesse of their hearts, for (saith the Scholler) it is a world to sée how little re­gard is now a dayes had of Schollers and Souldiers, how they range in euery corner without respect, or reliefe. Their distresse is in euery mans eie, but out of euery mans heart, so that our present times make good that old saying: ‘Charitas laudatur at alget.’ With much other prattle to this effect: which Ratsey hea­ring, soothed vp a pritty while, till he came to a conuenient place, néere a wood side, and then whistled, and both his men came about the Scholler, for the whistle was a watchword betwéene them, which when he saw, he was in a pittifull plight, and Ratsey spake to him thus, or to this effect. Now honest Scholler, for so thy talke and thy habit shewes thée to be; know we are not as we séeme, for we are Gentlemen and Souldiours, such as thou didst talke of before: we are in want, and we scorne to crye out our wants in the stréets, for we shall not be heard; we will haue money if it walke vpon the earth. And therefore to be short, you must néeds minister your purse to me presently. Come dispatch, make no delay, for we cannot tarry. This stroke cold to the schol­lers heart, for he little thought that the spéech he made would produce such effect. But séeing he perceiued there was no remedie, but he must néeds vntrusse (for he saw they were all resolute) he quietly deliuered his money vnto them, and would haue beene gone.

Nay sayes Ratsey you must néeds stay with me a little, for I must talke a word or two with you in yonder Wood: The Scholler fearing if he had him there, he would binde [Page]him, and do him some bodily harme, fell on his knées, and desired him to be good vnto him; Rise vp man, sayes Rat­sey, come I meane not to hurt thée, I would but haue thy counsaile in a matter. Well, when they were in the wood together, Ratsey told him, that he lik [...]d his discourse so well at first, and sped so well after it, that he was destrous he should preach vnto him some short Sermon of Repentance, for sayes he, I haue béene a long malefactor, and it may so preuaile with me, that it may worke me to some good déeds, after my many euils. The Scholler knew he must néeds do as he would haue him, now being in his hands, & there­fore stept to a Trée, chose his text to that effect, and made a speach of halfe an houre long: which being ended, Ratsey gaue him a brace of Angels back of his money, and tolde him if euer he came to be a Lord, he would make him his Chaplaine for his labour.

How he robd two men, and Knighted them.

THis Gamaliell Ratsey, & his two other compa­nions, Snell & Shorthose, hauing laine two or thrée dayes in an Inne in Stamford, expecting some booty worthy the taking; At last there came into the same Inne where they lay, two men that had forty pounds a péece about them, and were ri­ding into Lincolnshire to buy wool, which when they heard, they were not a little glad of, for they made account it was their owne straight, & dealt with the Chamberlaine of the house to learne which way they rode in the morning, which the chamberlaine performed accordingly & that with great care & diligence, for he knew he should partake of their for­tunes, and share with them, if they sped. So they were di­rected by him, which way the two men did intend their tra­uell in the morning.

The morning being come, the Chamberlaine gaue them such an huntes-vp, as made them rise presently, for; [Page]

They slept not soundly that night, till the thirsty desire of their purchase was effected. Vp t [...]ey got with all speede, and gaue order that their horses should be made readie, which being in readinesse, they rode easily before the same way that the Chamberlein directed them, for they imagi­ned the two men would not follow them in an hower, or two after. But they made too much hast for their little pro­fit for they had not stayed one whole hower, when they might espie the two Clothiers fiue miles beiond Stamford ryding towards Lyncolne.

And at Fiue mile Crosse, Ratsey gaue them such a good morrow, as with fowre wordes speaking, ( Stande, deliuer your purse) he fetcht fourescore pounds from them at one clappe. This being done, he had them knéele downe & draw­ing forth his weapon, he asked them what their seuerall names were, and of what profession. They told him, and an­sweared they were Woolmen by trade, Ratsey then laying his weapon on the shoulder of one of them had him rise vp Sir Walter Woolsack, & of y ^e other rise vp Sir Samuell Sheep­skinne. You are now (saies he) both my knights, as I haue many others besides you; that haue payd mee their seuerall fées, according to their abilities, as you haue done, for their election into the order of Knighthood: If any aske you who bestowed that dignity vpon you, saye you mette with K. Ratsey, and so farewell.

Thus they rid away, and left the two Woolmen heauie in heart and emptie in purse, and how little they ioyed in their poore Knighthood so richly paid for. Let euery in­different opinion iudge by himselfe, as if he had beene in their taking.

How Ratsey dealt with a poore man going to a Market, whom he intended to haue robd.

ANother time Ratsey ryding betweene Huntington and Cambridge (for he kept for the most part in those parts) he mette with an old Man going to S. [...]lves to a faire, And thinking he had had more store of monie about him, he began to be briefe with the old Man, and his wife (for she was likewise in his company) and to tell them that he lackt money, it was a hard time for men of his profession, there were no warres, and Souldiers had no imployments. Therefore (father sayes he) I must haue your money, I come for it, be short and deliuer it. The old man hee sto [...]d shaking as if a man had bene giuing vp the ghost. And told him that in all world hee had but fiue nobles and that he was faine to make hard shift for, and sell some of his hous­hold stuffe to make it vp, and if he should die hee left not one penny at home to helpe him, and my wife (saies he) hath but one Edward shi [...]ling and a Mill sixpence, which hath seene no sunne these seauen yeares, and that she hath taken in her purse if we should want money, and all this we haue pacht vpp togeather (maister) to buye vs one cow to keepe me and my wife now we are old. If you take if from vs we are vt­terly vndone. You are an old dissembler (Sirra saies Ratsey to him, I haue met with such as you that haue said as much as you doe, and yet I haue found more siluer and gold in a russet hose then in veluet breeches.

It may be so quoth the old Man, but on my faith and hollidome I deale truly with you sir. And with that he drew forth his leather purse, and powred forth his store, and his wife hers, and badde him euen deale with them, as hee would.

Ratsey seeing this was true, tooke the monies of both of them, but returned it backe, and told them hee had too high a mind to looke vpon so low a matter, and therewithal gaue the old Man Forty shillings out of his owne purse, and bad him by a couple of kine: for I hold it worse then Sacriledge (sayes Ratsey) to rob the spittle, and while I liue the Sermon in the wood must teach me to fauour and pitie them that are poore, and helpe them, for the rich can helpe themselues.

Thus did Ratsey leaue the old Man both lighter at heart, and heauier in purse then he found him, but how honest a theefe the old Man thought him to be when hee was gone, let euery poore Man iudge, that lackes a Cowe & hath fortie shillings giuen him to buy one.

How Ratsey got 300. poundes in one night by his venture of 50. pounds with a farmer, that he neuer saw til they met together in an Inne.

IT fortuned that Ratsey, and his compa­ny lying at an Inne in New Market, there came into the same house a farmer, or husbandman by occasion of businesse that way, who intending to lye there all night, and being alone, demaunded of the Hoste, if there were no companie with whom he might suppe, he made him answere that he had no guests that night, but one Gentleman and his Men, and he knew not whether he would permitte any straunger to suppe with him, but (saies the Host) I will aske of him. So Ratseys pleasure being damaunded in that case, he was ve­ry wel cōtent: for it was an accident that fitted his expecta­tiō, that lay there to no other end, but to awaite opportuni­ties: & it was a good wind he thought that would blow him some profit.

Then Ratseys supper being ready, the straunger was cal­in to his chamber, where the cloath was laid▪ and Ratsey gaue him a kinde welcome, though with a Iewish heart, (for he meant to rob him, though indeede it sell out other­wise) So they fat downe, & Ratseys two supposed seruing­men, waited as dutifully, as if they had had a Maister of a better condition. But all supper time the farmer vsed verie few words, was discontent, and very heauie at heart, which he could not but discouer, which Ratsey perceiuing, deman­ded of him the cause of his so great griefe and melancho­ly, which with much adoe he told him.

The truth is, saith the farmer, I haue much cause of griefe, and for my life I cannot dissemble it, it tour heth me so néere; For to morrow I am to paie two hundred pounds to a Gentleman not farre from hence which I am bound to discharge, and more then my bond, my house, and land is morgaged vnto him, and I remaine at his mircie, for I haue had such losses and hindrances, that all I can make amounts but to one hundred and fifty pounds, & I & mine are vtterly vndone, vnles I can take new order for pay­ment of the other fiftie pounds by a day, which I am very doubtfull of; he is reported to be so cruell, and vnconscionable.

If this be all (sayes Ratsey) be of good chéere, for although my selfe am vnknowne vnto him, yet I am sure he hath heard of my friends, for they are not dwelling farre from him: And I will do so much for you as to ride with you in the morning to him, and doubt not I will preuaile, that he shall forbeare you till a further time, without forfeiture or aduantage taken: for I presume one gentleman will not de­ny another such a request being so neere neigh bors.

The Farmer gaue him great thanks, & was well comfor­ted by that promise, for it séemed a very likly thing, y ^e a gen­tlemā of that shew that Ratsey was of, might both perswade [Page]and preuailed with his creditor. So supper ended, they par­ted to their seuerall todgings and the poore man was much merrier by this hope conceiued.

Well, morning being come, they rode altogether accor­ding to promise, and as they rode, still Ratsey would faine haue béene dooing with this hundred and fiftie pound, but (as God would haue it) his purpose was still croft by the continuall comming too and fro of passengers, who made Ratsey at that time volens nolens, to play the true man a­gainst his will. But he thought he would goe through stitch now, as he had beg [...]nne, and indéed (although at first he neuer meant it, when he sayd it) rode with the Farmer to the Gentleman his house, where Ratsey as well as he could playd the Rhetoritian, to perswade the G [...]ntle­man to beare with his debtor for a time for the odde fiftie pounds & told him, if either he or any friend of his had cause to vse him, or his meanes, where he dwelt, (for he tooke vp­on him the name of a Gentlemans sonne some xx. miles frō thence of great reckoning) he should commaund him to re­quite his courtesie. Sir, said the Gentleman▪ I haue no ac­quaintance with your father but this I haue heard, that he is a man of great worth & worship in the country, and could I without my great preiudice, pleasure this man at your request, it is as like you might obtaine it at my hands, as any man liuing to whom I am not further engag'd. But beléeue me sir, as I am a Gentleman, I am to ride to mor­row to pay 300. pound for a purchace, & my credit is bound for it, & I haue so depended vpō the paiment of this money, as I haue neglected to prouide for my selfe otherwise, vpon the assurance of it. Therfore you must néeds ercuse me, and so turnd his back, and was going away Nay stay sir sayes Ratsey, I will once in my life play the Marchant venturer, and hazard fifty pounds vpon a man I neuer saw before: Oh sir, sayes the man (and sell vpon his knées) if you will [Page]do this pleasure to a stranger, you shall binde me, my wife, and children to pray for you, and I will be as carefull to make you restitution, as I am now desirous to be helpt in this extremity: and I hope you shall not stay long for your mony. Ratsey made that reckoning soo, for he intended to be paid at some of their hands before they parted. To be short, Ratsey tendered downe fifty pounds in gold presently in the mans behalfe, which the Gentleman receiued, & was so wel cōceited of Ratsey, that he made them al his guests y ^e night.

The night being past ouer, and the morning come, the Gentleman of the house gat vp, & bagd the thrée hundreth pounds, and made himselfe ready for his businesse, & to ride: Ratsey was not long after, before he was as ready as he, for he meant to accompany him which way soeuer he rode, So breakfast being past, Ratsey tolde the Gentleman he would ride some part of his way with him, as he pretended occasion of businesse, which the Gentleman was very glad of, for he was so farre from any mistrust of him, (for that he nam'd himselfe such a Gentlemans sonne) as he held him­selfe much grac'd by his company. The Farmer tooke his leaue of them both, and was not a little glad that he had escapt his late danger.

Ratsey and the Gentleman had not rode many miles to­gether, when the Gentlemans mans horse (for he carried the thrée hundred pounds in a Port-mantle behinde him) began to faint, being a grasse Nagge, and they were much troubled with him; which Ratsey perceiuing, had the Gen­tleman (if he pleased) to let his man take it behind him (be­ing better horst) as long as they rode together. The Gen­tleman thanked him very heartily. So the money was re­mooued, and set behind Shorthose. This was that which Ratsey aimd at, for now he knew his venture of fiftie pofids would come home with profit. Shorthose hauing the Port­mantle behinde him, néeded no directions what to doe, for [Page]their mindes were well enough knowne the one to the other. But as the Gentleman & Ratsey past the time away with talke of many matters, little minding the way before them, so Shorthose by little and little mended his pace, and in very short time gotte much ground of them, which the Gentleman perceiuing, told M. Ratsey that his man rode too fast. Then Ratsey began to call and whistle to his man, but he would take no notice of it, but the more he calde or whistled, the more he stole away by degrées. At the which Ratsey séem'd much mou'd, and did sweare and teare excée­dingly, and told the Geatleman that he would ride & ouer­take him & stay him with a vengeance, who all this while mistrusted nothing, for Ratseys assumption of such a Gen­tlemās name, drownd the conceit of any doubts or suspitiō.

But being ridden after his man, Snell likewise begins to pace after his maister (as it was his duty) & the faster they followed Shorrhose, the faster he rode from them so that in a little time as they grew néere together, and at a conue­nient place of changing the way, they raind their horses back towards the old gentleman (who followed likewise as fast as he could) and wau'd their harts ouer their heads as a farewell for his 300. pound, and so rid cléere away. The Gentleman he made hue and crye after them, but to no purpose for they were so well horst and so well experienced in euery by way, that at their pleasure they would out­strip a countrey.

The Gentleman went about to trouble the Farmer, be­cause he brought him to his house but it auaild him nought, for he produc'd such sufficient proofe how they met by chāce in the Inne together, and was so well knowne to be of ho­nest life and conuersation, that any matter suggested a­gainst him, could not preuaile to his hurt.

So the old Gentleman with his man return'd home by Weeping Crosse, and all he had for his thrée hundreth [Page]pounds, was but a Caueat hereafter to beware how he gaue such sodaine entertainment to strangers.

A true and merry conceipt Ratsey performed vpon a Pick­lock that trauelled the Countries as a foot-post.

IT chanced that as Ratsey rode abroad, he heard still of a fellow that trauelled vp and downe the countrie, in the name and nature of a foot-post, with a long pikt staffe on his necke, and a Leatherne bag ouerthwart his shoulder and vnder his arme, that protended to carry let­ters too and fro, but in stéed of packets, his bag was fild with picklocks, and in euery Inne and Asehouse where he lodg'd all night, he paid the hostisse with her owne money, and carryed somewhat away besides too, for there was not a Cupbord or Chest that he could come néere, but he would pick open, and if th [...]re were no money in it, then money worth should walke with him; and he would not sticke to rob poore Milke-maids, and seruants towards an euening, if be met them handsomly, if they had not aboue sixe pence in their purses.

Ratsey came in no place, but complaints were still made of such a fellow, and he did enuie the practises of such deiect and base conditions, and resolued in his minde if euer he met with him, both to redresse & reuenge his villanies, & to effect some matter of conceipt vpon him, that should be worth talking, and deceiue the foot-post in his art of lock-picking.

It chanced that not long after the foot-post came into an Inne in Stilton to drinke, where Ratsey was at dinner, who espying him out of y ^e casement of a window that stood open, (for he had certaine notice what kind a fellow he was, & in what attire and fashion he trauelled) he causd him to be cal­led in, and after some questions, Ratsey made him to drinke, [Page]and to sit downe to dinner with Shorthose and Snell. They fild his veines with good victualles, and wine, & that made the footpost very merry.

I pray thee footpost (saies Ratsey) which way dost thou trauell? faith Sir (saies he) I go euery way, euen as the directions of my letters giue me occasion, But now I am going to Cambridge: I pray thee then quoth Ratsey, let me intreat thee to carry me a letter to the Iailor. For my fa­ther sent in a fellon thither the other day, and I should send word to the Iaylour that hee should not be bailed. Marry that I will in most dutifull manner (quoth this supposed footpost) and much more for your worship then that: Then Ratsey demaunded his name which he told him, Giue him a cuppe of wine (sayes Ratsey: and while hee is drinking and at dinner I will write my letter, & make it ready. But in stead of a letter Ratsey counterfeited a Iustice of peace his hand in Cambridge shire and wrote his Mittimus, and set it in with this Prouiso, that he should be kept fast boulted or els he would breake away.

As soone as the Mittimus was made, sealed, and subscri­bed in forme of a letter, Ratsey deliuered it to the footpost, and said giue this to the chiefe Iaylor of cambridge, and here is halfe a crowne for thee to drinke for thy labor. So the foot­post tooke the letter and the money, and with many a cappe and knee thanked Ratsey and departed. And made hast till he came at Cambridge, and staide not in the towne somuch as to tast a cuppe of nappie Ale, before he came to the Iay­lor, and to him very briefely hee deliuered the letter, The Iaylour tooke it, and read it, and smilde a good, and sayde, Footepost thou are welcome, for such a Gentlemans sake, He bids mee giue thee the best intertainment I may, I, Sir, quoth the Footpost, the Gentleman loues me well, and I thanke him for it, I dined well with his Men to day.

But I pray you (saies the footpost) hath the curteous Gentleman remembred such a poore man as I am in his letter? I mary doth he (fellow) quoth he, and therefore Sirra (saith the Iaylor, and calls to one of his men) take the footpost into the lowest ward, clappe a strong paire of bolts vpon his heeles, and search what other letters he car­ries in his leatherne Casket, which his man performing, found nothing in the same, but 3. or 4. bundels of picklocks, Then the Iaylor commaunded he should haue a paire of shackles clapt on more, and bad him to see if his picklockes would serue his turne to baile him thence. But the footpost (or rather picklocke) hearing his Mittimus, was blanke and cold at heart, and had not a worde to say his Conscience did so accuse him. But there he lay while the next Sessions and was hanged, for many matters did come against him.

Now let true men iudge, what knauerie is amongst Théeues when one crossbites another to the Gallowes.

How Ratsey robd a Preacher, by perswasion.

ANother time Ratsey ryding by the way, vpon New Market heath, ouertooke a Preacher, vpon whom he intended to passe some pranke, and resolued there could be no better iest practised vppon a Parson then to picke his purse by per­swasion, without drawing of any wea­pon, And at the first gaue him this encounter. You are well ouertaken sir. You are welcome sayes the Preacher. Pray you how farre ride you this way quoth Ratsey, I ride sayes the Preacher to such a place: if you ride that way, I would be glad of your cōpnay: yes indeed (answers Ratsey) [Page]that same waie [...]lies my businesse, and I will accompanie you with all my heart. Thus their seuerall salutatons en­ded vpon their first meeting: they entered into further communication of diuers matters and so beguiled much time and way with such talke, but that was not the mat­ter which Ratsey aymed at, for hee meant to giue the Churchman another text to preach vpon. Therefore fell roundly to his purpose in this fashion. I perceaue Sir by your habit you are a Preacher, and Schollers both by art and nature are kind and curteous, I doe little therfore misdoubte your friendly respect of what I shall speake vn­to you Know then that I am a Gentleman, and haue béene a man of better meanes then my present fortunes makes shew of; But by the fortunes of warre, and my owne dis­order I am fallen into the hands of Extremity, and am forst to lay my wants open to the helpe of others, and I thinke I cannot fitter communicate my griefes to any then a man of your condition, for you preach to others the Do­ctrine of good deedes and Charity, therefore I doubt not but your selfe will be respectiue of such as are needye. I confesse I haue beene a great malefactor, bu [...] am sory for what is past and would willingly preuent any misfortunes to come: Yet I was neuer neerer the mouth of mishappe, then I am now at this instant, For my wants are such, and so desperate as if I haue it not of you, I must and will haue mony of him I méete next, although I hazard my déerest blood. Therefore as you are a Gentleman, and a Scholler, tender my distresse: and consider the force and powre of Necessity, which constraines them that are nee­dy to rod, and take away the goods of their neighbors, & of­tentimes to endanger their liues and limmes, & so at last bring themselues by such lewd courses to vntimely end. If I doe passe from you vnpitied and vnreleeued, notwith­standing I thus make my minde and extremities knowne [Page]vnto you, and afterwards be constrained to fall into Theft, or murther, assure your selfe you are partaker of my euill, in that you haue not reduced me going awry, nor supported me being ready to fall.

The Preacher was feelingly toucht with this passion, & told him that he was inwardly grieued that a gentleman of his ranke and fashion should be driuen to so lowe an ebbe: and that his meanes could not answere his willing minde: And so drew his purse out of his pocket, and saies to Ratsey heres mony, hold, take it, I thinke it be three pounds or thereabouts. I would I were better prouided to pleasure you. Ratsey receaued it, and gaue him great thankes, but re­solued to sound him déeper whether hee had any more store or no. Therefore seconded his spéech in this manner. Sir quoth Ratsey, this is money indeed, and will serue a mans present occasions for meat and drinke, but not to furnish me to such preferment as I am hopefull of: and my minde giues mee (I cannot tell what the reason is) that you haue more money about you, If you haue, it ill befits a man of your profession to dissemble, for that is a fault you much reprehend in others: Therefore as you will answeare be­fore God, I charge you tell me the truth howsoeuer it bée: Why then (quoth the preacher) to deale plainly with you: I haue tenne poundes more which I receiued this Morning. Let me see it (saies Ratsey) So hee drew it out of his other pocket, and deliuered it to Ratsey: Who re­turning the purse and thrée poundes backe to the Prea­cher, kept the tenne pounds and told him, that (he thought) would serue his turne, and saue him from imminent daun­ger that before he was ready to fall into. And (sayes Ratsey) if euer my estate bée raised to that ability that I bee able, I pray you tell mée your name and dwel­ling, and I will make you vndoubted restitution for it, [Page]in the meane time I will but borrow this of you till my better fortunes. And so would haue taken his leaue and departed. Nay (sayes the Preacher) I pray you leaue me not to night, but lie at mine Inne with me, and I pro­mise you (for all this) I will beare your charges, and be merry with you. Pardon me for that, sayes Ratsey; so you may doe me wrong, and charge the Constable with me, and say I haue robd you of ten pound, when I haue but borrowed it: I dare not hazard my life and liberty so slen­derly. As I am an honest man, sayes the Preacher, and looke for mercy at Gods hands at the last day, beléeue me I will not speake one word of it to any man, neither shall you be troubled or iniured any way by my meanes or procure­ment, for I am so well perswaded of you, that if you liue, you will one day giue it me againe.

Vpon this religious protestation, Ratsey rode along with him, and set vp their horses together, supt together, and lay together. For Ratsey handled his talke, and beha­uiour so orderly in the presence of the Preacher, that he conceiued an extraordinary good opinion of him, and impu­ted the former accident to necessitie, rather then the cor­ruption of Ratseys condition.

The morning being come, they brake their fast toge­ther, and the Parson payd all according to promise, and Ratsey brought him ten miles of his way, where they tooke their seuerall leaues. Ratsey with redoubled thanks, and promise to pay the money againe, and the Preacher with a world of good counsell, for (sayes he) if that may serue to saue you from such perrill as you pretended, I shall thinke it the most charitable déed that euer I did in my life. And so they parted.

A true relation of the Robbery cōmitted by Ratsey and his company, within a little off Bedford, for which they were Executed at Bedford the 27. of March last. 1605.

A Gentleman, and his Brother dwelling within sixe or seauen miles of Bedford, hauing bin in a place where they had receaued the summe of eight score and fourteene poundes, or there abouts, Ratsey had secret knowledge and intel­ligence thereof, and of the way which they trauelled homewards: So both he, and Snell, and Shorthose dog'd both the Gentlemen, whereof the one carried the money before him in a Wallet, & could spie no conuenient place to giue onset to their purpose, til they came within halfe a mile of the Gentlemans owne house: Then Ratsey (by his intelligence) thought it was either high time to strike or to desist from their former resolutiō, for by the notice that was giuen him, he knew be was not far from the Gentlemans groundes, and place of dwelling. And ther­fore being well horst (for hee was vppon the Coniurers Gelding he toucht him with his spurres and soone ouer­tooke the Gentleman. To whome hee briefely began to tell the cause of his comming, which was (he said for mo­ney, and money hee must haue. The Gentleman told him that he wold not part with his money so easily and alighted and Ratsey and he betooke themselues to their weapons, and while they were at it, verie lustilye, the Gentlemans brother began to ride away with the money, but Sne I followed him and soone brought him againe, who kept him safe while the other were fighting who should carrie away the money. The Gentleman is knowne in his Countrie to bee verie stout and valiant, and had not his sword broken, it is thought that Ratsey [Page]and Snell both could not haue rob'd him, (for Shorthose neuer came in.) The Gentleman hurt Ratsey verie dan­gerously, and he himselfe had a maime in his leg, which is said to be done by Snell comming in to aide Ratsey, and beeing both vppon him, when the Gentlemans sword failed, the money was deliuered, and with much danger Ratsey and his companions escaped, for hue & crie went foorth in euerie place, but they spared no Horse-flesh till they Coasted the Countrie and came to Saffron-walden, there one of them had some friendes or Kinsfolkes, with whome they all reposed themselues a day or two, and Snell and Shorthose did there change away their horses.

From thence they tooke their seueral courses to Lon­don, where they met altogether in an Inne in South­warke, where it is reported they shared their money, and that Ratsey had two shares allowed him in respect of his hurts receaued.

But as goods euil got, are for the moste part euill spent: so they made as little conscience in consuming their mo­ney as they did in getting the same. And as deceipt hath stil his due, and God is iust in punnishing offendors, so fell it out in their seueral apprehensions, for Snel being taken in Duck-lane in London for a Horse that hee had stolne frō about Graues-end, not for y ^e robbery commit­ted in Bedford-shire, & being examined before a Iustice, & readie to be cōmitted to prison, he appealed to y ^e Iustice for fauour, lolde him hee would helpe him to one Ratsey of whome such fame went for many robberies, if he weld be good vnto him for his life. The Iustice promised him his lawful fauor, & therupō Snell gaue him notice where Ratseys Horse stood, and where hee should haue him. So by his directions Ratsey was taken, and apprehended neere the Doctors Commons and committed to New­gate, [Page]where he remained a long time, and Snell likewise. In which space, two or thee Sessions past, & they neuer call'd to any triall.

All this while Shorthose was at libertie, and hauing been vp and downe in the Countrie, fiue or sixe weekes, and comming to London to listen how Ratsey and Snell had sped the Sessions before, he went and vnfoulded his minde to one Water Skellington a Countrieman of his, who reuealed him to the keepers of Newgate, and so hee was likewise apprehended in Long-lane, in the liberties of great S. Bartholmewes.

So beeing thus seuerally taken, Newgate held and contained them till Snell desired the Iustice to remooue him to y ^e Kings Bench, for feare least one of y ^e other shold doe him some suddaine mischiefe for reuealing of Ratsey.

A little before the Assize time in Lent last, they were all remooued downe to Bedford, where they had not re­mained long, but Ratsey had eaten off his Irons with a water which hee had gotten, and so had escaped, but that hee was espyed in time, and preuented by the Keeper.

To bee short, the Assizes being come, they were all brought downe to the place of Iudgement, where they shewed themselues so valiant that they thrust twelue men into a corner, who sound them all guiltie for the Robberie committed in Bedfordshire vppon the Gentle­man and his Brother. And they were sent away from the Barre with the dolefull sentence of Lord haue mercie vpon you. And the seauen and twentie day of March last, they were all Executed in Bed­ford aforesaid.