a book of scoundrels(流浪之书)-第5章
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when I shall see any again。' There is a brave irrelevance in this very
human desire； which is beyond praise。
Valiant also was the conduct of Roderick Audrey； who after a brief but
brilliant career paid his last debt to the law in 1714。
He was but sixteen； and； says his biographer； ‘he went very decent to
the gallows； being in a white waistcoat； clean napkin； white gloves； and an
orange in one hand。' So well did he play his part； that one wonders Jack
Ketch did not shrink from the performance of his。 But throughout his
short life； Roderick Audreythe very name is an echo of romance！
displayed a contempt for whatever was common or ugly。 Not only was
his appearance at Tyburn a lesson in elegance； but he thieved； as none ever
thieved before or since； with no other accomplice than a singing…bird。
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Thus he would play outside a house； wherein he espied a sideboard of
plate； and at last； bidding his playmate flutter through an open window
into the parlour； he would follow upon the excuse of recovery； and； once
admitted； would carry off as much silver as he could conceal。 None other
ever attempted so graceful an artifice； and yet Audrey's journey to Tyburn
is even more memorable than the story of his gay accomplice。
But it is not only the truly great who have won for themselves an
enduring reputation。 There are men； not a few； esteemed； like the
popular novelist； not for their art but for some foolish gift； some facile
trick of notoriety； whose actions have tickled the fancy； not the
understanding of the world。 The coward and the impostor have been set
upon a pedestal of glory either by accident or by the whim of posterity。
For more than a century Dick Turpin has appeared not so much the
greatest of highwaymen； as the Highwaymen Incarnate。 His prowess has
been extolled in novels and upon the stage； his ride to York is still
bepraised for a feat of miraculous courage and endurance； the death of
Black Bess has drawn floods of tears down the most callous cheeks。 And
the truth is that Turpin was never a gentleman of the road at all！ Black
Bess is as pure an invention as the famous ride to York。 The ruffian； who
is said to have ridden the phantom mare from one end of England to the
other； was a common butcher； who burned an old woman to death at
Epping； and was very properly hanged at York for the stealing of a horse
which he dared not bestride。
Not one incident in his career gives colour to the splendid myth which
has been woven round his memory。 Once he was in London； and he died
at York。 So much is true； but there is naught to prove that his progress
from the one town to the other did not occupy a year。 Nor is there any
reason why the halo should have been set upon his head rather than upon
another's。 Strangest truth of all； none knows at what moment Dick
Turpin first shone into glory。 At any rate； there is a gap in the tradition；
and the chap…books of the time may not be credited with this vulgar error。
Perhaps it was the popular drama of Skelt which put the ruffian upon the
black mare's back； but whatever the date of the invention； Turpin was a
popular hero long before Ainsworth sent him rattling across England。
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And in order to equip this butcher with a false reputation； a valiant officer
and gentleman was stripped of the credit due to a magnificent achievement。
For though Turpin tramped to York at a journeyman's leisure； Nicks rode
thither at a stretchNicks the intrepid and gallant； whom Charles II。； in
admiration of his feat； was wont to call Swiftnicks。
This valiant collector； whom posterity has robbed for Turpin's
embellishment； lived at the highest moment of his art。 He knew by rote
the lessons taught by Hind and Duval； he was a fearless rider and a
courteous thief。 Now； one morning at five of the clock； he robbed a
gentleman near Barnet of 560； and riding straight for York； he
appeared on the Bowling Green at six in the evening。 Being presently
recognised by his victim； he was apprehended； and at the trial which
followed he pleaded a triumphant alibi。 But vanity was too strong for
discretion； and no sooner was Swiftnicks out of danger； than he boasted； as
well he might； of his splendid courage。 Forthwith he appeared a popular
hero； obtained a commission in Lord Moncastle's regiment； and married a
fortune。 And then came Turpin to filch his glory！ Nor need Turpin
have stooped to a vicarious notoriety； for he possessed a certain rough；
half conscious humour； which was not despicable。 He purchased a new
fustian coat and a pair of pumps； in which to be hanged； and he hired five
poor men at ten shillings the day； that his death might not go unmourned。
Above all； he was distinguished in prison。 A crowd thronged his cell to
identify him； and one there was who offered to bet the keeper half a guinea
that the prisoner was not Turpin； whereupon Turpin whispered the keeper；
‘Lay him the wager； you fool； and I will go you halves。' Surely this
impudent indifference might have kept green the memory of the man who
never rode to York！
If the Scoundrel may claim distinction on many grounds； his character
is singularly uniform。 To the anthropologist he might well appear the
survival of a savage race； and savage also are his manifold superstitions。
He is a creature of times and seasons。 He chooses the occasion of his
deeds with as scrupulous a care as he examines his formidable crowbars
and jemmies。 At certain hours he would refrain from action； though
every circumstance favoured his success： he would rather obey the
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restraining voice of a wise； unreasoning wizardry； than fill his pockets
with the gold for which his human soul is ever hungry。 There is no law
of man he dares not break but he shrinks in horror from the infringement
of the unwritten rules of savagery。 Though he might cut a throat in self…
defence； he would never walk under a ladder； and if the 13th fell on a
Friday； he would starve that day rather than obtain a loaf by the method he
best understands。 He consults the omens with as patient a divination as
the augurs of old； and so long as he carries an amulet in his pocket； though
it be but a pebble or a polished nut； he is filled with an irresistible courage。
For him the worst terror of all is the evil eye； and he would rather be
hanged by an unsuspected judge than receive an easy stretch from one
whose glance he dared not face。 And while the anthropologist claims
him for a savage； whose civilisation has been arrested at brotherhood with
the Solomon Islanders； the politician might pronounce him a true
communist； in that he has preserved a wholesome contempt of property
and civic life。 The pedant； again； would feel his bumps； prescribe a
gentle course of bromide； and hope to cure all the sins of the world by a
municipal Turkish bath。 The wise man； respecting his superstitions； is
content to take him as he finds him； and to deduce his character from his
very candid history； which is unaffected by pedant or politician。
Before all things； he is sanguine； he believes that Chance； the great
god of his endeavour； fights upon his side。 Whatever is lacking to…day；
to…morrow's enterprise will fulfil； and if only the omens be favourable； he
fears neither detection nor the gallows。 His courage proceeds from this
sanguine temperament； strengthened by shame and tradition rather than
from a self… controlled magnanimity； he hopes until despair is inevitable；
and then walks firmly to the gallows； that no comrade may suspect the
white feather。 His ambition； too； is the ambition of the savage or of the
child； he despises such immaterial advantages as power and influence；
being perfectly content if he
