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The Notorious Robber's Lamentation.

"Hurrah! o'er Hounslow Heath we ride, hurrah for the stilly hour!
When the moon looks pale from her lofty dome, like a maid from her battle-tower;
While sparks of fire, from my courser's feet, spring flashing at ev'ry goad,
And the distant sounds of wheels I greet. Then hurrah, hurrah for the Road!
What joy, in homely House of Call, o'er the wine-cup our deeds to tell,
And forget that one day we must pay for all, and swing high to the dismal Bell.
Remorse, too late, this despised heart why with dungeon fetters load?
With courage I've liv'd, so with life I'll part. Then hurrah, hurrah for the Road!"

WE

E have already, on p. 230, attempted to trace the tune of "Russell's Farewell," to which the following Highwayman's Lament was appointed to be sung. The tune was also known as "Captain Johnson's Farewell" (on p. 46 mentioned as belonging to "Fatal Love," Bagf. Coll., i. 87). In Roxb. Coll., iii. 786, is a modern, Newcastle, reprint of a more important ditty than the Joe Hains ballad on the same subject of Captain James Campbell's forcible abduction of the Heiress "Mrs. Mary Wharton," from Queen Street, in 1690. Sir John Johnson assisted his friend, and suffered the penalty as accomplice instead of the perpetrator. It begins, "You noble Lords of high degree, that see my dismal doom." To the tune of Russell's Farewel, or, Monmouth's Lament. It is entitled "Captain Johnson's Last Farewel to the World, who was executed at Tyburn, near London, for.... stealing an Heiress." The tune is said to be the same as "Tender hearts of London City" (see our p. 273); but the metre of Francis Winter's last Farewel" (p. 236), and of "The Notorious Robber [Whitney]'s Lamentation," does not quite agree with the particular "Russell's Farewel" of "Pride the bane," etc.

We suspect there was a third and distinct "Russell's Farewell," not yet identified, the true object of our search, which may have wholly perished.

Whitney, the hero of the following ballad, was one of those notorious highwaymen who successively imitated Claude Duval in carving his name on the Newgate dungeon stone, and came to the same end (see p. 12). We find an account of him in Capt. Alex. Smith's Compleat History of... Highway Men, etc., a work already mentioned in connexion with the "Golden Farmer's Last Farewell."-In the introductions of Bagford Coll., i. 47, ii. 73 and 74, we gave some particulars concerning the fraternity of the Road. Numerous works have been issued on the exploits of such desperadoes, but the interest felt in them is now happily limited to the lower classes and ill-regulated boys. A false lustre was (and, in the case of the worst-printed periodical literature of the

Like

day, still is) cast around the life of habitual outlaws. Captain Macheath on the stage, the criminal was invested with the good qualities of courage, generosity, affection, and fidelity. He was the rectifier of abuses in the unequal distribution of property. He was the idol of his gang, and of all the beautiful women. When betrayed at the bidding of an iniquitous government by some paid spy or renegade, he died publicly and undauntedly, with something of the reputation due to a martyr. Our novelists a little overdid this sentiment, and we are now quite contented to have parted with their gentry of the Highway. Not always were they courteous, like Duval :

"Stop!"-Stop's the word all dread to hear, "Your gold and your gems resign!” When my pistol's cock'd, and my look severe: for a desperate life is mine. How ladies scream, how with rage men glow, while their purses I unload. Then I bid "Good Night" with a smile and a bow. So hurrah, hurrah, for the Road.

[Song: quoted from memory.] Whitney was born at Stevenage, in Hertfordshire, and brought up as a butcher. Soon after his apprenticeship ended, he took to the Highway, and lived a profligate life with vile companions of both sexes. By what Captain Alexander Smith relates,

there must have been much malice as well as humour in Whitney's disposition, for he sent some defrauded London merchants to seek for their stolen property in the lodgings of certain greedy women, harpies who had received the plunder as gifts from him. This discovery led to their being arrested, and imprisoned for six months, to beat hemp, and to be whipt in Bridewell. They had supposed him to be a mercer, and that he was robbing his own master for their sake. Capt. Smith repeats the Sermon on the text T. H. E. F. T., which was preached extempore by Mr. Wawen [? Warren], Lecturer of the Church at Greenwich, when he had been captured by Whitney and his gang. The Highwaymen were so well pleased that they "paid tythes on hearing it. Ultimately, Whitney was betrayed by one Madame Cosens, who kept a house of evil resort in Milford Lane, over against St. Clement's Church in the Strand. She had him apprehended in White-fryars, and sent to Newgate." Tried at the Old Bailey, he was sentenced by Sir S. L.. 1 [? Salathiel Lovell], the Recorder, and having been at first reprieved from Tyburn, Whitney was hanged "at Porters-Block by Smithfield, on Wednesday the 19th of December, 1694, . . . when he was about thirty-four years of age."-Hist. of Highwaymen, 2nd ed., 1714, i. 52.

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A curious revelation of the prevalence of highway robberies, and the debauched habits of the "High Toby men and footpads, is given in an eight-paged quarto pamphlet, licensed by

L'Estrange, and printed in 1677 for D. M. (probably David Mallet-no connexion of the much-later Malloch, alias Mallet, mentioned on our p. 138). It is entitled News from Newgate: Or, a true RELATION of the manner of taking Seven persons, very notorious for Highway-men, in the Strand, upon Munday the 13 of this instant November, 1677. And of another apprehended on Friday the 16th. All being Prisoners in Newgate, &c. The men were boldly carousing at a tavern, and resisted capture, one escaping. It is mentioned that they, "belonging to the City, through Idleness and extravagance living above their Quality, had now taken up this new Profession of the Genteel Pad [sic], wherein 'tis thought Squire Ketch may shortly make them free." See Bagford Coll., iii. 50, and Introduction, for a portrait of this executioner, whose name so long survived. It is declared that highway robberies by similar gangs had been numerous. Thus, only about three weeks before, there had been such an adventure

"On the Northern Road, several Graziers having taken good store of money at an eminent Fair for Cattle, not knowing how to carry home the same with security, resolved to accompany each other, and so to the number of fifteen, took their Journey together; But a Tribe of Highwaymen, just the number of those now taken in the Strand, but whether the very same persons, we cannot affirm, -Having intelligence of this rich Booty, and being disappointed in time, sat up all one night upon the watch for their coming by; and one of them being known by an honest fellow belonging to the Inn where they lay, who called him by his name, lest he should discover their quality, and spoyl their design, they gave him a sleepy Potion that laid him fast for several hours, and made him so sick afterwards, that his Life was indangered, if not since lost by it.

"In the mean time, about nine or ten of the Clock next morning, comes by this Troop of Countrymen, and soon afterwards the seven Highwaymen took Horse and pursued them, overtaking them on a large Common, remote from any Town, and consequently fit for their Roguish purpose; having rid a little way with them, ask'd them two or three common questions, and got some before, and others behind them, without further parley they give the dreadful words of Command, Stand and Deliver: and to shew that they were in Earnest fired several Pistols and kill'd in an instant two or three of their horses; so far at least commendable, that they chose rather to fright than murder the men, and shew them their Power rather than Inclination to bloody Cruelty. The honest Travellers, though twice as many, and very unwilling to part with their money, yet finding themselves not sufficiently weapon'd to dispute their Right against such resolute Ruffians, so furnish'd as they were with Fire-Arms, and much better Hors'd; thought fit to consult their safety, and rather than expose their Lives, to part with their Cash; which being surrendred to the value of several hundreds of pounds amongst them all, and all their Bridles and Girts cut, the Thieves clapt Spurs to their Steeds, and loaden with Treasure, departed, riding such obscure by-roads, that though there was Hue and Cry immediately sent out after them, there was none of them taken in that Country that we can hear of.

"This was between a fortnight and three weeks ago, and whether these now apprehended here were the same, or any of them, is yet uncertain."

In the first volume of The English Rogue, 1665, by Francis Kirkman and Rich. Head, (see our pp. 240, 522), is an illustra

tion of mounted Highwaymen attacking travellers. And in the first edition, only, of Merry Drollery, 1661, Part ii., p. 106, is a song (included in our own reprint of Choyce Drollery, etc., p. 247), which gives the loving invitation of a reckless Cavalier, who seems to be not far removed from free-booting practices.

Do thou but yield me pleasure,
And take from me this pain,
I'll give thee all the Treasure
Horse and man can gain.
E're thou for want of money
Be to destruction hurl'd,
For to support my honey

I'll plunder all the world.

With hey ho, my honey, my heart shall never rue,

For I have been spending money, and amongst the Jovial Crew.

[Bagford Collection, II. 164 reverso; Pepys, v. 15.]

The Notorious Robbers Lamentation,

Or,

Whitneys Sorrowful Ditty

In the Gaol of Newgate: Together with an Account of his Dream that Morning before he was taken.

TUNE OF, Russels Farewel. Licensed according to Order.

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The liberty which once I had,
by Law is now controul'd,
many thousands now is glad
that Whitney is in hold.

And

The Lyons heart which once I bore within this breast of mine,

Is now with sorrows grieved sore,

that life I must Resine:

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The stoutest hearts will shrink at death, and wax with sorrow cold,

E're long I must yield up my Breath,
since I am here in hold.

Oh! why was I so void of fear,
when wait I knew was laid,
To Sieze and Apprehend me here,
for pranks which I have plaid,
It was my harden'd impudence
which made me sure so bold,
But for my former cross offence,
stout Whitney lyes in hold.

Near Hounsditch I was known by one,
who watcht me where I went,

Then for an Officer did run;

I finding his intent,

Did draw my naked sword in hand, being Couragious bold,

But I their force could not withstand,

but soon was laid in hold.

My sword and pistols were in vain,

they could not clear the way

Hundreds and thousands flock'd amain, intreating me to stay,

They being glad to see my Fate,

as I was often told,

And they did guard me to this place,

where now I lye in hold.

My very Ears they did annoy,

for the tumultuous throng,

With shouts and loud Huzzas of Joy, conducted me along.

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