The Life of JOHN HEWLET, a Murderer

There are several facts which have happened in the world, the circumstances attending which, if we compare them as they are related by one or other, we can hardly fix in our own mind any certainty of belief concerning them, such an equality is there in the weight of evidence of one side and of the other.  Such, at the time it happened, was the case of the malefactor before us.

John Hewlet was born in Warwickshire, the son of Richard Hewlet, a butcher, and though not bred up with his father, he was yet bred to the same employment at Leicester, from which, malicious people said he acquired a bloody and barbarous disposition.  However, he did not serve his time out with his master, but being a strong, sturdy young fellow, and hoping some extraordinary preferment in the army, with that view he engaged himself in the First Regiment of the Guards, during the reign of the late King William.

In the war he gained the reputation of a very brave, but a very cruel and very rough fellow, and therefore was relied on by his officers, yet never liked by them.  Persons of a similar disposition generally live on good terms with one another.  Hewlet found out a corporal, one Blunt, much of the same humour with himself, never pleased when in safety, nor afraid though in the midst of danger.

At the siege of Namur, in Flanders, these fellows happened to be both in the trenches when the French made a desperate sally and were beaten off at last with much loss and in such confusion that their pursuers lodged themselves in one of the outworks, and had like to have gained another, in the attack on which a young cadet of the regiment in which Blunt served was killed.  Blunt observing it, went to the commanding officer and told him that the cadet had nineteen pistoles in his pocket, and it was a shame the French should have them. Why, that’s true, corporal, said the Colonel, but I don’t see at present how we can help it.  No, replied Blunt, give me but leave to go and search his pockets, and I’ll answer for bringing the money back.  Why, fool, said the Colonel, dost thou not see the place covered with French?  Should a man stir from hence they would pour a whole shower of small shot upon him.  I’ll venture that, says Blunt. But how will you know the body? added the Colonel. I am afraid we have left a score besides him behind us.  Why, look ye, sir, said the Corporal, let me have no more objections, and I’ll answer that, he was clapped, good Colonel, do you see, and that to some purpose; so that if I can’t know him by his face, I may know him by somewhat else.  Well, said the Colonel, if you have a mind to be knocked on the head, and take it ill to be denied, you must go, I think.

On which Blunt, waiting for no further orders, marched directly in the midst of the enemy’s fire to the dead bodies, which law within ten yards of the muzzle of their pieces, and turning over several of the dead bodies, he distinguished that of the cadet, and brought away the prize for which he had so fairly ventured.