rite longed for pudding and mince pye, which the good man was fain to beg for her at an English merchant's in Rouen, which was a certain sign of his inclination to England. They were very merry at his christening, and his father, without any grumbling, paid also then the fees for his burial; which is an extraordinary custom at Domfront, not exercised any where else in all France, and of which I account myself obliged to give the reader a particular

account.

In the days of Charles the Ninth of that name, the curate of Domfront (for so the French name him whom we call parson and vicar) out of his own head, began a strange innovation and oppression in that parish; that is, he absolutely denied to baptise any of their children, if they would not at the same time pay him also the funeral fees; and what was worse, he would give them no reason for this alteration, but only promised to enter bond for himself and his successors, that hereafter all persons, paying so at their christening, should be buried gratis: What think ye the poor people did in this case? They did not pull his surplice over his ears, nor tear his mass-book, nor throw crickets at his head; no, they humbly desired him to alter his resolution, and amicably reasoned it with him; but he, being a capricious fellow, gave them no other answer, but, What I have done, I have done, Take your remedy, where you can find it; 'tis not for men of my coat to give an account of my actions to the laity.' Which was a surly and quarrelsome answer, and unbefitting a priest. Yet this did not provoke his parishioners to speak one ill word against his person or function, or to do any illegal act. They only took the regular way of complaining of him to his ordinary, the Archbishop of Rouen. Upon summons, he appears; the Archbishop takes him up roundly, tells him, He deserves deprivation, if that can be proved which is objected against him: And asked him, What he had to say for himself? After his due reverence, he answers, That he acknowledges the fact, to save the time of examining witnesses; but desires his Grace to hear his reasons, and then do unto him as he shall see cause. 'I have been,' says he, curate of this parish these seven years; in that time I have, one year with another, baptised a hundred children, and buried not one. At first I rejoiced at my good fortune, to be placed in so good an air; but, looking into the register-book, I found, for a hundred years back, near the same num❤ ber yearly baptised, and not one above five years old buried: And, which did more amaze me, I find the number of the communicants to be no greater now than they were then: This seemed to me a great mystery; but, upon further enquiry, I found out the true cause of it; for all that are born at Domfront were hanged at Rouen. I did this to keep my parishioners from hanging, encouraging them to die at home, the burial duties being already paid.'

The Archbishop demanded of the parishioners, Whether this was true or not? They answered, That too many of them came to that unlucky end at Rouen. Well then,' said he, I approve of what the curate has done, and will cause my secretary, in perpetuam rei

memoriam, to make an act of it; which act the curate carried home with him, and the parish chearfully submitted to it, and have found much good by it; for, within less than twenty years, there died fifteen of natural deaths, and now there die three or four yearly.

But, to return to Du Vall, it will not, I hope, be expected that I should, in a true history, play the romancer, and describe all his actions from his cradle to his saddle, telling what childish sports he was best at, and who were his play-fellows; that were enough to make the truth of the whole narration suspected; only one important accident I ought not to omit.

An old friar, accounted very expert in physiognomy and judicial astrology, came on a time to see old Du Vall and his wife (for so we call him to distinguish him from his son). They had then, by extraordinary good fortune, some Norman wine, that is, cider, in their house, of which they were very liberal to this old friar, whom they made heartily welcome, thinking nothing too good for him.

For those silly people, who know no better, account it a great honour and favour, when any religious person, as a priest or friar, are pleased to give them a visit, and to eat and drink with them. As these three were sitting by the fire, and chirping over their cups, in comes Claude, and broke the friar's draught, who fixed his eyes attentively upon him, without speaking one word for the space of half an hour, to the amazement of Claude's parents, who, seeing the friar neither speak nor drink, imagined he was sick, and courteously asked him, Brother, what ails you? Are you not well? Why do you look so upon our son?' The friar, having roused himself out of his extasy, Is that stripling,' says he, 'your son? To which, after they had replied, Yes, 'Come hither, boy,' quoth he; and, looking upon his head, he perceived he had two crowns, a certain sign that he should be a traveller. This child,' says he, will be a traveller, and he shail never, during his life, be long without money; and, wherever he goes, he will be in extraordinary favour with women of the highest condition.' Now, from this story, the certainty of physiognomy and judicial astrology is evidently proved; so that from henceforward whoever shall presume to deny it, ought not to be esteemed a person in his right wits.

6

Pierre and Marguerite looked upon the friar as an oracle, and mightily rejoiced at their son's good fortune; but it could not enter into their imagination, how this should come to pass, having nothing to leave him as a foundation to build so great a structure

upon.

The boy grew up, and spoke the language of. the country fluently, which is lawyers French, and which (if I should not offend the ladies, in comparing our language with theirs) is as much inferior to that at Paris, as Devonshire or Somersetshire English to that spoken at White-hall.

I speak not this to disgrace him, for, could he have spoke never so good French, it is not in such high esteem there as it is here; and it very rarely happens, that, upon that account alone, any great man's daughter runs away with a lacquey.

When he was about thirteen or fourteen years old, his friends mustered their forces together to set him up in the world. They bought him shoes and stockings, for (according to the laudable custom of that country, of inuring their youth to hardship) till then he had never worn any. They also bought him a suit of the brokers, gave him their blessing and twenty sous in his pocket, and threw an old shoe after him, and bid him go seek his fortune. This throwing of an old shoe after him was looked upon as a great piece of prodigality in Normandy, where they are so considerable a merchandise; the citizens wives of the best quality wearing old shoes chalked, whence, I suppose, our custom of wearing white shoes derives its original.

His friends advised him to go to Paris, assuring him he would not fail of a condition there, if any could be had in the world; for so the French call Paris. He goes to Rouen, and fortunately meets with post-horses, which were to be returned, one of which he was proffered to ride gratis, only upon promise to help to dress them at night. And, which was yet more fortunate, he meets several young English gentlemen, with their governors, going to Paris, to learn their exercises, to fit them to go a wooing at their return home; who were infinitely ambitious of his company, not doubting but, in those two days travel, they should pump many considerable things out of him, both as to the language and customs of France, and, upon that account, they did very willingly defray his charges.

They arrive at Paris, and light in the Fauxbourg St. Germain, the quarter wherein generally the English lodge, near whom also, our Du Vall did earnestly desire to plant himself. Not long after, by the intercession of some of the English gentlemen (for in this time he had indeared himself to them) he was admitted to run on errands, and do the meanest offices at the St. Esprit, in the Rue de Boucherie: a house, in those days, betwixt a tavern, an alehouse, a cook's shop, and a bawdy-house, and, upon some of these accounts, much frequented by the English his patrons. In this condition he lived unblameable, during some time, unless you esteem it a fault to be scabby, and a little given to filching quali ties, very frequent in persons of his nation and condition.

The restoration of his majesty, which was in 1660, brought multitudes of all nations into England, to be spectators of our jubilee; but, more particularly, it drained Paris of all the English there, as being most concerned in so great a happiness. One of them, a person of quality, entertained Du Vall as his servant, and brought him over with him.

What fortunes he ran through afterwards, is known to every one, and how good a proficient he was in the laudable qualities of gaming and making love. But one vice he had which I cannot pardon him, because it is not of the French growth, but northern and ungenteel, I mean that of drinking; for, that very night he was surprised, he was overtaken.

By these courses (for I dare not call them vices) he soon fell

into want of money, to maintain his sport. That, and his stars, but chiefly his own valour, inclined him to take the generous way of padding; in which he quickly became so famous, that, in a proclamation for the taking several notorious highway-men, he had the honour to be named first.

This is the place where I should set down several of his exploits; but I omit them, both as being well known, and because I cannot find in them more ingenuity than was practised before by Hind and Hannum, and several other mere English thieves.

Yet, to do him right, one story there is that savours of gal. lantry, and I should not be an honest historian, if I should con

ceal it.

He, with his squadron, overtakes a coach, which they had set over night, having intelligence of a booty of four-hundred pounds in it. In the coach was a knight, his lady, and only one servingmaid, who, perceiving five horse-men making up to them, presently imagined that they were beset; and they were confirmed in this apprehension, by seeing them whisper to one another, and ride backwards and forwards. The lady, to shew she was not afraid, takes a flageolet out of her pocket, and plays: Du Vall takes the hint, plays also, and excellently well, upon a flageolet of his own, and in this posture he rides up to the coach-side. 'Sir,' says he, to the person in the coach, your lady plays excellently, and I doubt not but that she dances as well; will you please to walk out of the coach, and let me have the honour to dance one currant with her upon the heath.' Sir,' said the person in the coach, 'I dare not deny any thing to one of your quality and good mind; you seem a gentleman, and your request is very reasonable:' which said, the lacquey opens the boot, out comes the knight, Du Vall leaps lightly off his horse, and hands the lady out of the coach. They danced, and here it was that Du Vall performed marvels; the best master in London, except those that are French, not being able to shew such footing as he did in his great riding French boots. The dancing being over, he waits on the lady to her coach. As the knight was going in, says Du Vall to him, Sir, you have forgot to pay the musick: No, I have not,' replies the knight, and, putting his hand under the seat of the coach, pulls out a hundred pounds in a bag, and delivers it to him; which Du Vall took with a very good grace, and courteously answered, Sir, you are liberal, and shall have no cause to repent your being so; this liberality of yours shall excuse you the other three-hundred pounds,' and, giving him the word, that, if he met with any more of the crew, he might pass undisturbed, he civilly takes his leave of him.

6

This story, I confess, justifies the great kindness the ladies had for Du Vall; for in this, as in an epitome, are contained all things that set a man off advantageously, and make him appear, as the phrase is, much a gentleman. First, here was valour, that he and but four more durst assault a knight, a lady, a waiting-gentlewoman, a lacquey, a groom that rid by to open the gates, and the

coachman, they being six to five, odds at football; and besides, Du Vall had much the worst cause, and reason to believe, that whoever should arrive, would range themselves on the enemy's party. Then he shewed his invention and sagacity, that he could sur le champ, and, without studying, make that advantage of the lady's playing on the flageolet. He evinced his skill in instrumental musick, by playing on his flageolet; in vocal by his singing; for (as I should have told you before) there being no violins, Du Vall sung the currant himself. He manifested his agility of body, by lightly dismounting, off his horse, and with ease and freedom getting up again, when he took his leave; his excellent deportment, by his incomparable dancing, and his graceful manner of taking the hundred pounds; his generosity, in taking no more; his wit and eloquence, and readiness at repartees, in the whole discourse with the knight and lady, the greatest part of which I have been forced to omit.

And here (could I dispense with truth and impartiality, necessary ingredients of a good history) I could come off with flying colours, leave Du Vall in the ladies bosoms, and not put myself out of a possibility of ever being in favour with any of them.

But I must tell the story of the sucking-bottle; which, if it seem to his disadvantage, set that other against it which I am come from relating. The adventure of the sucking-bottle was as follows:

It happened another time, as Du Vall was upon his vocation of robbing, on Black-heath, he meets with a coach richly fraught with ladies of quality, and with one child, who had a silver sucking-bottle; he robs them rudely, takes away their money, watches, rings, and even the little child's sucking-bottle: Nor would he, upon the child's tears, nor the lady's earnest intercession, be wrought upon to restore it; till at last one of his companions, (whose name I wish I could put down here, that he may find friends when he shall stand in need of them) a good-natured person (for the French are strangers both to the name and thing) forced him to deliver it. I shall make no reflexions upon this story, both because I do not design to render him odious, or make this pamphlet more prolix.

The noise of the proclamation, and the rewards promised to those who should take any therein named, made Du Vall retire to France. At Paris he lives highly, makes great boastings of the success of his arms and amours in England, proudly bragging, he could never encounter with any of either sex that could resist him. He had not been long in France, but he had a fit of his old disease, want of money, which he found to be much augmented by the thin air of France; and therefore, by the advice of his physicians, lest the disease should seize upon his vitals, and make him lie by it, he resolves to transport himself into England; which accordingly he did; for, in truth, the air of France is not good for persons of