The StoneJug received him with deference and admiration.Three hundred pounds weight of irons were put upon him for an adornment,and the Governor professed so keen a solicitude for his welfare that he never left him unattended.There was scarce a beautiful woman in London who did not solace him with her condescension,and enrich him with her gifts.Not only did the President of the Royal Academy deign to paint his portrait,but (a far greater honour)Hogarth made him immortal.Even the King displayed a proper interest,demanding a full and precise account of his escapes.The hero himself was drunk with flattery;he bubbled with ribaldry;he touched off the most valiant of his contemporaries in a ludicrous phrase.But his chief delight was to illustrate his prowess to his distinguished visitors,and nothing pleased him better than to slip in and out of his chains.
Confronted with his judge,he forthwith proposed to rid himself of his handcuffs,and he preserved until the fatal tree an illimitable pride in his artistry.Nor would he believe in the possibility of death.To the very last he was confirmed in the hope of pardon;but,pardon failing him,his single consolation was that his procession from Westminster to Newgate was the largest that London had ever known,and that in the crowd a constable broke his leg.Even in the Condemned Hole he was unreconciled.If he had broken the Castle,why should he not also evade the gallows?Wherefore he resolved to carry a knife to Tyburn that he might cut the rope,and so,losing himself in the crowd,ensure escape.But the knife was discovered by his warder's vigilance,and taken from him after a desperate struggle.At the scaffold he behaved with admirable gravity:confessing the wickeder of his robberies,and asking pardon for his enormous crimes.`Of two virtues,'he boasted at the selfsame moment that the cart left him dancing without the music,`I have ever cherished an honest pride:never have Istooped to friendship with Jonathan Wild,or with any of his detestable thieftakers;and,though an undutiful son,I never damned my mother's eyes.'
Thus died Jack Sheppard;intrepid burglar and incomparable artist,who,in his own separate ambition of prisonbreaking,remains,and will ever remain,unrivalled.His most brilliant efforts were the result neither of strength nor of cunning;for so slight was he of build,so deficient in muscle,that both Edgworth Bess and Mistress Maggot were wont to bang him to their own mind and purpose.And an escape so magnificently planned,so bravely executed as was his from the Strong Room,is far greater than a mere effect of cunning.Those mysterious gifts which enable mankind to batter the stone walls of a prison,or to bend the iron bars of a cage,were preeminently his.It is also certain that he could not have employed his gifts in a more reputable profession.
II
LOUISDOMINIQUE CARTOUCHE
Of all the heroes who have waged a private and undeclared war upon their neighbours,LouisDominique Cartouche was the most generously endowed.It was but his resolute contempt for politics,his unswerving love of plunder for its own sake,that prevented him from seizing a throne or questing after the empire of the world.The modesty of his ambition sets him below C<ae>sar,or Napoleon,but he yields to neither in the genius of success:whatever he would attain was his on the instant,nor did failure interrupt his career,until treachery,of which he went in perpetual terror,involved himself and his comrades in ruin.
His talent of generalship was unrivalled.None of the gang was permitted the liberty of a freelance.By Cartouche was the order given,and so long as the chief was in repose,Paris might enjoy her sleep.When it pleased him to join battle a whistle was enough.
Now,it was revealed to his intelligence that the professional thief,who devoted all his days and such of his nights as were spared from depredation to wine and women,was more readily detected than the valetdechambre,who did but crack a crib or cry `Stand and deliver!'on a proper occasion.
Wherefore,he bade his soldiers take service in the great houses of Paris,that,secure of suspicion,they might still be ready to obey the call of duty.Thus,also,they formed a reconnoitring force,whose vigilance no prize might elude;and nowhere did Cartouche display his genius to finer purpose than in this prudent disposition of his army.It remained only to efface himself,and therein he succeeded admirably by never sleeping two following nights in the same house:so that,when Cartouche was the terror of Paris,when even the King trembled in his bed,none knew his stature nor could recognise his features.In this shifting and impersonal vizard,he broke houses,picked pockets,robbed on the pad.One night he would terrify the Faubourg St.
Germain;another he would plunder the humbler suburb of St.
Antoine;but on each excursion he was companioned by experts,and the map of Paris was rigidly apportioned among his followers.To each district a captain was appointed,whose business it was to apprehend the customs of the quarter,and thus to indicate the proper season of attack.
Ever triumphant,with yellowboys ever jingling in his pocket,Cartouche lived a life of luxurious merriment.A favourite haunt was a cabaret in the Rue Dauphine,chosen for the sanest of reasons,as his Captain Ferrand declared,that the landlady was a femme d'esprit.Here he would sit with his friends and his women,and thereafter drive his chariot across the Pont Neuf to the sunnier gaiety of the PalaisRoyal.A finished dandy,he wore by preference a greywhite coat with silver buttons;his breeches and stockings were on a famous occasion of black silk;while a sword,scabbarded in satin,hung at his hip.
