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Lorsque le document est trop grand pour etre reproduit en un seul cliche, il est film6 d partir de Tangle sup^rieur gauche, de gauche 6 droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images ndcerssaire. Los diagrammes suivants illustrent la m^thode. 1 2 3 32X 1 2 3 4 5 6 C] MEMOIRS OF THE CHEVALIER de JOHNSTONE. IN THREE VOLUMES. TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL FRENCH M.S. OF THE CHEVALIER. BY CHAELES WINCHESTEB, ADVOCATE, ABERDEEN. VOLUME SECOND. ABERDEEN : D. AVYLLIE & SON, AND I 1.17.H. THE PRINCE Or WALES. 1871. '^9 i I G. COUNVVVLL AKD SOKS, TIUNTERS AND LITHOGRAPHERS, ABERDEEN. PREFACE TO THE SECOND AND THIRD VOLUMES OF THE Sl^iiob d i\t dCjjeklier k |oIjiidmie. The favourable reception given by my friends and the public to the translation of the First Volume of the Memoirs of the Chevalier de Johnstone,— not less than the flattering notices in Reviews of the work, and the generous and unsolicited pat- ronage of my friend, Mr. Leslie of Powis, the great-grand nephew of the Chevalier, and the honoured owner of the original M.S., of which the Translator has had such abundant use, — have combined to induce me to answer the calls from many different quarters to give the remaining two volumes to the public. I hope my doing so will not be thought imper- tinent or presumptuous in taxing the liberality of my friends and supporters, for whom I feel the highest regard, and for whose kindness I am bound to offer my warmest thanks and gratitude ; and in bidding them farewell, I hope they will be as much pleased with these two remaining volumes as they have been pleased to express themselves satisfied with the first. As already stated, the Second Volume contains a narrative of the adventures and hair-breadth escapes of the Chevalier after the Battle of Culloden, till his final escape to Holland, disguised as a domestic in the suite of Lady Jean Douglas ; and subsequently of his entering the military service of France, and proceeding to Canada, with the rank of Captain. The Third Volume contains the History of the War in Canada, in v\rliich the Chevalier could not take part against his native country ; and having made known his peculiar situ- ation to the French General Montcalm, His Excellency at once absolved him from his engagement. In this way, although a non-combatant, he had the best opportunities of seeing and describing the operations in that celebrated cam- paign, in which the immortal "Wolfe and General Montcalm both fell on the Heights of Abraham, on the same day. Abeudken, April, 1871. frative Bvalier ^lland, iiglas ; ico of iptaiii. V^ar in igainst r situ- ncy at way, ities of I cam- Qtcalm aac •§>^ «/AlM PI / fi3ltaYnf2!tl / /i^rqpi^ R d I U| mo lil ^)^?g: I ■mvcSij- SurMjfj^ I §1 . •r 'Jim. 0Jf I anioj^ 4- *- 171 f S Us < *^fi -J fl fe? i- "1 'i^ li^^auqai/j \ ^ ^ Ul X ■uojsfiing I J 'vuntf^tr) uaft&injj MMiVM s ^ P -.5 > z a z -J o X I- ! tyaseAf ■ \('Jui/u)bns % ArfnZoahet I-* •J Is I h \licr Slueui :Baif fiinfruAarson' CltMrojiald. \hipputh ^& •8 %% Th _;« u o 0) o a> o o , •? rt &) -u O <C ■"■ — . ci a o 2 O = £-1 C3 -t-> o 2:3 ■^ .2 — o o o t-i 3 to eS o a« p o -a ° (V, 2 a»3 , s J3 ° S« 0) S 3 O & (1 o 2 -^ ffi O o o .3 J3 |.§ a o m o o 5 o V:" -k^ •il ^ ^ c3 (1) 3 to c3 % o a -^ .is o rj to to .3 o o ^ .2 2 ■^ a 0) 1, a o oj a 71 .-< o ^ IS 7; « 03 73 a « S a -i-T 2 -= >, -a ^ <-> IS to c3 -= 2 ■- 5 a J ja f-i " ^ a" o Ph 3 ^i' a 4) o •'^ O rt O o 2 0) •:: J tC a -^ H P3 o -2 ~ a ^ a 2 s o a 73 -Tj O h '^ ^ c3 0) O t^ :2 "^ 10 G< ® ?— I 7.' 13 "♦^ -i^ '^. a '- s* o o a eS rt y + -a 2 ...^ . pS I> •3 ^:f I— < ''^ ^ , 'o -r; g o ,2 jS 'O "^ O 73 <a « ■a] Q « o ^ ^ i 2 73 O ^ :: ^ ?j ^ '73 i o <-■ 3! (5) a fe s 9 a 3 oj rt a a ^ o a >.^ - -2 ijD 2 •2 §:^ SI civil MEMOIRS OF THE CHEVALIER DE JOHNSTONE. f oIuiM Bttmk GIVING AN ACCOUNT OF HIS HAIRBREADTH ESCAPES AFTER THE BATl'LE OF CULLODEN, TILL HIS FINAL ESCAPE TO HOLLAND IN THE SUITE OF LADY JEAN DOUGLAS, DISGUISED AS A SERVANT, AND ENTERING THE FRENCH SERVICE, AND PROCEEDING TO CANADA. '^r^ I- ■^■%,-\,-^-%-'\. -.-^-^.-^.-^ HE Battle of Culloden, which Avas lost the 16th of April, more through a series of bad conduct oq our part siru'e that of Falkirk, than by any able management of the Duke of Cumberland, in terminating the expedition of Prince Edward, opened scenes of horror to his partisans. The ruin of many of the most illustrious houses of Scotland fol- lowed in a moment the loss of that battle. The scaffolds of England were for a long time innundated every day with the blood of a great number of the gentlemen and Peers of Scot- land, the executions of whom furnished a spectacle to amuse the English populace, naturally of a character cruel anrt bar- barous ; and the confiscation of their fortunes immediately re- duced their families to beggary. Those who had the good fortune to save themselves in foreign countries were consoled for all that they had lost by having escaped a tragical death by the hand of the executioner, and looked upon themselves as once 6 more highly fortunate ; above all, by the humanity and com- passion of His Most Christian Majesty, who, in according to them an asylum in France, provided, at the same time, for their subsistence by a guaranteed fund of forty thousand livres per annum, which was distributed in pensions to those unfortunate Scotch victims of their fidelity to their legitimate Prince. These pensions had always been paid regularly ; but in the partition of this ^und they had not always followed the intentions of His Majesty, who had destined it solely to the Scots in the suite of Prince Edward. As soon as the Duke of Cumberland was assured by the total dispersion of the Highlanders at Ruthven that he had nothing more to fear of seeing them re-appear with arms in their hands, he divid^^d his army into diiferent de- tachments, that he might send them to scour the country of the Highlanders, with a view to sack their habitations and make prisoners. These detachments, as the executioners of the Duke of Cumberland, perpetrated the most horrible cruelties, — burning the mansions of the Chiefs of clans, violating their wives and daughters, making it an amusement to themselves to catch the unfortunate Highlanders whenever they fell into their hands, and in that surpassing in barbarity the savages of America, the most ferocious.* In the mean- time, the principal object that the Duke had in vicAV by these detachments Avas to seize I^rince Edward, who escaped with much difficulty from their vigilance, although pursued very hotly ; and in his instructions to commandants of detach- ments, he recommended them ahvays not to make prisoners, "^Tlio Dulco of Cumberland is dead, nnivcrsallj- ilctcstcd among Christian l)0\sorH for the unheard of cruelties which he had perpetrated in Scotland. One may apply to him that which is said by Herodotus, — that the Deity proportions punishments to crimes ; and that for great offences, punish- ments .ire ahvays great, — for ho had his body consumed with corruption by the violence of his disease during many j^ears before his entire dissolution — leaving luito posterity but the remembrance that there could have existed, under a human shape, a monster so ferocious and unnatural. and com- ordiug to time, for thousand s to those legitimate larly ; but lowed th(! ely to the ed by the 1 that he )ear with ■ercnt de- jountiy of Ltions and tioncrs of horrible of clans, musemcnt whenever barbarity I le mean- by these :)cd with ued very detach- )risoners, tr Christian Scotland. the Deity Ds, punish- ruption hy 5sohition — c existed, but to poinard them on the spot. In point of fact, the Court of London had been greatly embarrassed as to having such a prisoner — the Parliament of England not seeing their way to bring him to trial as a subject of Great Britain by his in- contestable right to the crown. They sent, at the sametime, orders to all the towns and villages on the borders of the two arms of the sea, between Inverness and Edinburgh, not to allow any person to pass without a passport from the Duke of Cumberland or the Magistrates of Edinburgh ; and the same in all the seaports of Great Britain, prohibiting all captains of merchant vessels to receive any one on board without a passport, or to contribute in any manner to the help of a rebel, — a name which they then gave to us as vanquished, in place of heroes, if wc were taken, under the pain of high treason, to be prosecuted criminally, and subjeciod to the same punishment as those who had taken up arms. The Duke of Cumberland detached at the same time his cavalry in the low country, at the entrance of the hills, to arrest all those who should present themselves without passports to cross the first arm of the sea, with orders to keep up con- tinual patrols the whole length of the coast, and to keep a look out through all the cities and villages in the vicinity of the sea. Thus, by all these arrangements, it had become diffi- cult, almost impossible, to save themselves from the f my of this sanguinary Duke, who, by the excess of his unheard of cruelties among civilized nations, fell at last into discredit and into contempt of all honest men of the English nation, — of those even who never were partisans of the House of Stuart, and he procured for himself at Londoji the sou- briquet of " The Butcher."* lu all the troublesome positions in which I have found myself invob.ed, having been preserved in foreign lauds, l*ro- * The Duke of Cumberland was obliged to have an Act of Parliament to indemnify him for the cruelties he had committed in Scotland, contrary to the laws of the Realm, and to shelter him from prosecutions. 8 videuce seemed always there to plunge me into unfortunate encounters impossible to be foreseen, and to cause me to touch often very closely to the scaffold, holding me in the end by the hand to draw me from the precipice, as if the Supreme Being wished to manifest to me all his power and his infinite goodness. All the course of my life has been the same — having often found myself ready to perish without the least appearance or probability of escaping death, but saved as by a miracle when I was resigned to die. The long train of pains and excessive miseries which I had experienced almost without interruption were not without their uses to me, since they made me approbate tranquillity of spirit and health as re.,1 inestimable riches, and rendered me con- tent with simple necessaries of life, without ambition, without desire of abundance of fortune, nor forgetful of their magnifi- cence, I desired only always to have serenity of soul, and to pass the rest of my days without chagrin and without inquietude.* It is certain that the cessation of pains and persecutions produces pleasure and a happy state. My friendship for the unfortunate Macdonald of Scot- house, who was killed at my side at the Battle of Culloden, had engaged me to accompany him to the charge with his regiment. We were on the left of our army, and at the distance of about twenty paces from the enemy, when the rout commenced to become general, before even we had made our charge on the left. Almost at the same instant that I * "It is coi-tain, says Lady Wortloy Montague, "that there are no real pleasures but of the senses ; and the life of man is so short that he ought not to dream but to make the present agreeal)lo." " Moderation of con- duct," says a Chinese author, " is a virtue which takes its source in tran- quility of soul. When we repress the violence of the passions, when we accustom oui-selves to face with cool deliberation the accidents of life — when wo always put a guard against eveiy troublesome impression — when wo combat without ceasing the first impulses of a blind choler — when we give ourselves time to weigh all — we shall enjoy therefrom that tranquility of soul of which moderation in all things will be the fruit." — Military Art of the- Chinese. M saw poor Scot fall, (the most Avortliy man that I had ever known, and with whom I had been allied in friendship the most pure from the commencement of the expedition,) to the increase of my horror, I beheld the Highlanders around me turning their backs to fly. I remained at first immoveable and stupefied. I fired with fury my blunderbuss and pistols upon the enemy, and I endeavoured immediately to save myself like the others; but having charged on foot and in boots, I felt myself so fatigued oy the marshy ground, in which there was water up to my ankle, that in place of running, with pain could I march. I had left my servant, Robertson, upon the eminence Avith my horses, where the Prince was during the battle, about three hundred toises behind us, ordering him always to hold by the servants of the Prince, in order that I might be able more easily to find my horses in case I should have need of them. My first atten- tion on returning was to fix my eyes upon that eminence, to discover Robertson. It was in vain. I neither saw the Prince, nor his servants, nor anybody on horseback — all being already gone and out of sight. I only saw a terrible plat- form — the field of battle, from the right to the left of our army, all covered with Highlanders dispersed and running all that their legs could carry them, to save themselves. Not being able longer to sustain myself upon my legs, and the enemy always advancing very slowly, but redoubling their fire — my mind agitated and fluctuating with indecision, in doubt whether I should be killed or whether I should sur- render myself a prisoner, wnich was a thousand times worse than death upon the field of battle — all on a sudden I per- ceived a horse about thirty paces before me, which had not a horseman upon it. The idea of still having it in my power to save myself, gave me new strength, and inspired me with agility. I ran and seized the bridle, which was entangled about the arms of a man extended upon the ground, whom I believed to be dead ; but I was confounded when the cowardly 10 poltroon, who had no other hurt than fright, dared to remain in the most horrible fire to dispute with me the horse, at about tAventy paces from the enemy, all my menaces not being able to make him quit the bridle. "While we were disputing together, there came a burst of a cannon charge with grape shot, which fell at my feet, and which covered us with mud, but without making any impression upon this original, who remained constantly determined to retain the horse. Fortunately for me there passed close to us, Finlay Cameron, an officer of the regiment of Lochiel, a big, young man, of about twenty years of age, six feet high, brave, and heroic. I called him to mine aid — " Oh, Finlay," said I to him, "this man will not give me up this horse." Poor Finlay joined me at the instant as a shock of lightning, presented a pistol immediately at the head of this man, and threatened to blow out his brains if he hesitated a moment to quit the bridle. This man, who had the appearance of a servant, then took his resolution to take himself off with a good grace. In possession of the horse, I attempted, with many ineffectual strides, to mount on horseback, but I made these ineffectual attempts in vain. Finding myself without strength, and totally done up, I recalled again poor Finlay, who was already some paces distant from me, to assist me to mount. He returned, lifted me up easily in his arms like an infant, and placed me on the horse, across as a sack full, giving, at the same time, a stroke to the horse to make him go off, then offering me his wishes that I might have the good fortune to escape, he flew off like a hart, and was instantly out of sight. We were not at the time more distant from the enemy than about twenty-five paces when he left me. When I found myself about tliirty or forty paces off, I then adjusted myself upon the horse, placed my feet in the stirrup, running as fast as the bad jade was capable of. I was under too much obligation to Finlay Cameron not to have searched continually to inform myself of his fate, but without ever 11 liaving had tlic least light thrown upon it. This trait was far more noble and generous on his part, as I had never any particular connection with him. How dilhcult it is to know men ! I had always known from the commence- ment of our expedition that I was aide-de-camp to Lord George Murray, a character pleasant, honest, and brave ; but he never made me the smallest demonstration of friend- ship, notwithstanding I was indebted to him for my life in exposing generously his own to save me ! There was every appearance that I saved also the life of this pol- troon by awaking him from his terrific panic, for in less than two minutes the English array would have passed over liis body. Tiie cowardice of this man has furnished me since with materials for reflection, and I was very much convinced that for one brave man who perished in the routs, there were ten cowards. The greater the danger that flashes upon the eye of a coward blinds him, and deprives him of reflection, renders him incapable of reasoning with himself upon his position. He loses the power of thinking, with the pre- sence of mind so necessary in great dangers, and seeing cverythinf;i; troubles, his stupefaction costing him his life as Avell as his honour ; in place of which a brave man firmly and determinedly sees all the peril in which he finds himself involved, but his coolness makes him remember at the same time the means of extricating himself out of a bad case, if he has any resource, and he profits by it. When I was beyond the reach of this horrible fire of mus- ketry, I made a stop to breathe and deliberate upon the course I should take, and the route I should follow. During the stay that our army made at Inverness, I have been often in a pleasure party at the mansion of Mr. Grant of Rotliiemurchus, which is in the middle of the mountains, about six leagues from that city. This worthy man, then aged about sixty years, of pleasing manners, formed an affection for me, and often repeated to me assurances of his 12 frieiulship ; also his eldest son, with whom I had heen a com- rade at school, hut who was in the service of King George, llothiemnrchus, the father, was a partisan of the house of Stuart ; hut from prudence did not declare himself openly ; neither did his vassals, Avho remained neuters with their chief during the whole expedition. His castle is in the most beau- tiful situation, surpassing imagination, and which answers poetic descriptions the most romantic ; situated upon the banks of a most beautiful river, the Spey, Avhich winds in serpentine curls in the midst of a verdant plain, extend- ing to about a (juarter of a league in breadth to about two leagues in length. All around this plain one beholds the mountains, which rise in an amphitheatre, the one above the other, the summits of some of which are covered with wood, and others present the most beautiful verdure. It seems as if nature had wearied itself in forming so beautiful a retreat, in lavishing with profusion all that one could imagine of the beauties of the country, which enchanted me above all that I had ever seen. During two months that our army reposed at Inverness, on its return from England, I passed as much as possible of my time in these delicious scenes, which I quitted always with regret; and I found myself at the Castle of Rothiemurchus when they came to announce to us that the Duke of Cumberland had passed the Spey with his army on the side of Elgin, and that he approached towards Inverness. I departed at once to rejoin our army, but with a sensible regret at quitting these beautiful scenes, and the society of Rothiemurchus, the most amiable man in the world — mild, polite, upright, of an equable character, natur- ally jovial, of much spirit, with a great fund of good sense and judgment. On bidding him adieu, he clasped me in his arms, embraced me tenderly with tears in his eyes, saying to me, " My dear boy, if your affairs should take a bad turn, opposed to the English army, as thr.t ma;y possibly happen, come my way to conceal yourself at my dwelling, and I will i 4 V I but _ 13 I be answerable for your safety, life for life." The Highland hills being in effect a sure asylum against all the searches which the English troops could make, I decided without hesi- tation to t.ake the road to Rothiemurchus, which was on our right from the field o£ battle ; but I had not made a hundred paces when I perceived a corps of the enemy's cavalry before nic, which blocked up the road. I then retraced my way, taking that which led to Inverness, which 1 followed just until I saw an eminence on which the bulk of our army had thrown itself on that side, and I judged consecpiently that the principal pursuit of the enemy would be on the road to Inverness. I quitted likewise the road, and crossed straight through the fields without any other design than that of dis- tancing myself from the enemy as much as I possibly could. Having arrived on the border of the river Ness, a quarter of a league higher than the town of Inverness, and about as far from the field of battle, I stopped to deliberate upon the route which I ought to take, the cavalry of the enemy upon the road to Rothiemurchus having totally dis- concerted me, — my mind agitated and tormented to know where to go in an unknoAvn place, having never been in that part of the mountains, or west of Inverness. I heard all at once a very brisk firing at the town, which lasted for some minutes. As one is inclined in misfortunes to fill the imagin- ation with vain hopes, I thought at first that it was tlie Highlanders that were defending the city against the English, and I regretted exceedingly having quitted the road to Inver- ness. I was descending a footpath which led to the town by the side of the river, where I had passed many times in going to fish ; having found it, I plunged into it, without giving myself time for reflection that it was by no means susceptible of defence, not being surrounded but by a wall, proper only for any enclosure, and I proceeded forward along this foot- path in order to bring myself with despatch to Inverness ; but I had not gone a hundred paces down when I en- 14 countered si Highlander coining from the toAvn, who assured me that the English had entered it without any resistance. He told me, at the same time, that all the road from the field of battle to Inverness was strewed with the dead, the Englii?ih cavalry having made the principal pursuit from that quarter, and the streets of the town were equally covered with dead bodies — the bridge at the end of the chief street having been all at once blocked up by the precipitation of the fugitives. I was not displeased to find that my first conjectures were not imfortunately too just, since following the road from the town I should have made myself among the number of the carcases. I then retraced my steps with a heart more poig- nant than ever, and plunged in the deepest sorrow. All my hopes vanished. I did not dream further than to be at a dis- tance from these dismal scenes. The Highlander having told me that he was going to Fort-Augustus, a fortress about eight leagues from Inverness, which our army had de- molished some time before, I took again the great road under his conduct, proposing that we should go together. We arrived at midnight at Fort-Augustus, without having seen a •single cottage on our way ; and I set my food on the ground in a small hut which had the name of a public-house, the hostess of which had no other thing to give me but a morsel of bread, a cup of elixir vitiP, from grain, and a little hay for my horse, which gave me the most pleasure ; for althougli I had taken noihing for twenty-four hours, the terrible vicissitudes throughout a journey the most cruel and dismal i had ever experienced, sufliced completely to deprive me of appetite and all inclination to eat. Being too much overcome, and equally fatigued in body and mind, I reposed during two or three hours upon a bench before the fire, for as to beds, there were none there. I did not cease in the meantime to look upon Rothiemur- chus as my only resource for saving me ; but his castle being situated to the south of Inverness, by the road which I had 15 taken to the west, I found myself much more distant from liis castle at Fort Augustus than from the field of battle. I left the public-house before it was day, having found another High- lander, who conducted me to Garviemore, twelve miles south of Fort Augustus. Next day I found myself at Iluthvcn, in IJadenoch, which is about two leagues from Rothiemurchus. Till then, I had not again met with anybody who could give me any news ; but I was agreeably surprised at finding that this little market town was in fact, by mere haphazard, the phure of rendezvous, where a great party of our army was rallied ; for they had not pointed out any place for our rally- ing in case of defeat. In an instant I saw myself surrounded by a great many of my comrades, who pressed forward to announce to me that at Ruthven and its neighbourhood there was a great part of our army, that the Highlanders were in the best of dispositions for taking their revenge, and that they were waiting with impatience the return of an aide-de-camp which my Lord George had sent to the Prince to receive his orders, and to be led again to battle. I had never known joy so vivid as that which I then felt — the tears came to my eyes. I could not better compare my state than to that of an invalid, who, after having languished a long time, finds liimself all at once in perfect health by a sudden revolution. Having ob- served that there was not accommodation at Ruthven — the greater part of our army having been obliged to lie on the field — I did not dismount from horseback ; and after having made enquiries after Finlay Cameron to offer him the assur- ances of my gratitude, without being able to learn anything of his fate, I continued my route to go to Killihuntly, which is about a quarter of a league from Ruthven. When our army went to the north of Scotland, I stopped at the house of Mr. Gordon of Killihuntly, where I passed several days very agreeably. It was full of genteel people. These amiable persons welcomed my return with all the friendship possible, and I found my Lord and my Lady Ogil- 16 vie at their house, with many other friends. Not having partaken of anything for forty hours, save a morsel of old hread and a cup of usqucbagh (water distilled from barley), I did great honour to the good cheer which my Lady Killi- huntly set before us ; and as I had not enjoyed a bed since our departure from Inverness to go to face the enemy, as soon as the supper was finished T ♦v^ent to bed, with my mind much refreshed and tranquil, and slept eighteen hours in one slum- ber. The next day after dinner I went to Ruthvcn ; but the aide-de-camp not having again returned, there was no news whatever; and I returned to sleep at Killihuntly. I was charmed to see there the gaiety of the Highlanders, who appeared to be returned more from a ball than from a defeat. Having passed the night with impatience and restlessness, I got up betimes, and proceeded with despatch to Ruthven, to learn if the aide-de-camp had returned. I was astonished to fmd misery and melancholy painted on the countenances of all those whom I met, and I soon learned that the cause of this was but too well accounted for. The first officer whom T met told me that the aide-de-camp had returned, and that he had reported for all the answer on the part of Prince Edward that every one could adopt the means of saving himself as he best could — a reply melancholy and disheartening for the brave people who had sacrificed themselves for him. I returned at once to Killihuntly with a lieju't rent and overwhelmed with misery, in order to take leave, and render thanks to my Lord and my Lady Killihuntly for their civili- ties. My Lady offered me an asylum in their mountains, which are very isolated and difficult of access, telling me that she would construct a cabin in ihe interior the most concealed, where she would lay in for me a magazine of provisions of every kind ; that she would not leave me without money ; and that she would give me a flock to keep of six or eight slieej). She added that the fastness Avhich she proposed for me being on the border of a lake about a quarter of a league from the 17 having [ of old irley), I y Killi- ed since as soon id much le shim- en ; but was no [ntly. I ers, who a defeat. :lessness, thven, to lished to ances of cause of er whom d that he Edward elf as he for the rent and d render ir civili- ouutains, me that rncealed, i^iions of oy ; and it slice]). me beinj^ from the Castle, where a stream entered it ahonnding with trout, I could amuse myself in fishing, and that she would often walk towards that quarter to see her shepherd. The project at first pleased me greatly, my misfortunes having metamorphosed me suddenly into a philosopher, and I would have consented to pass all my life in this solitude, provided I could have regained my mind into its natural and tranquil state, and devoid of agitation. Besides, we were at the approach of summer, and the natural beauties of the place, the cascades, the sheets of water, the valleys between the mountains, the rivers, the lakes, and the woods ; nature there displayed a magnificence, a majesty that commanded veneration, a thou- sand savage charms that surpassed infinitely artificial beauties ; it is there that a painter, a poet would feel their imagination lifting them up, warming them, and filling them with ideas which become ineffaceable in the memory of men ; above all, the amiable society of M. and Madllc. Killihuntly, Avho had testified to me so much friendship, in this moment I did not see any better to do ; but before my deciding on it I wished to revisit my good friend, Rothiemurchus, to consult with him if there was no means of finding an opportunity of em- barking me for foreign parts, in order that I might not be continually between life and death. T Avent, after mid-day, to Rothiemurchus, which is at the other extremity of this beinitiful valley, about two leagues from Killihuntly ; l)iit Ilothieraurchus, the father, was not at home, having gone to Inverness immediately on receiving the news of our defeat, to make his court to the Duke of Cumberland, more for fear of the evil tliat this barbarous Duke could do him, than for any attachment to the House of Hanover. I found his son, also the Chevalier Gordon of Park, Lieutenant-Colonel J^ord Lewis Gordon, Gordon of Cobairdie, his brother, and Gordon of Abachie. Rotliiemurchus's son advised me to deliver myself up a prisoner to the Duke of Cumberland, in the view of the dilli- B 18 culty, almost impossibility of my being able to escape, alleo-. ing, at the same time, that the first who surrendered them- selves prisoners would not fail to obtain their pardon ; and he added that he would return immediately to Inverness, where he had escorted my Lord Balmerino, who had followed his advice in delivering himself u]) a jirisoner. I did not relish at all the jjcrfidious ( ounsels of my old comrade, wlio Avas of a character quite different from that of his fatlici-. I replied to him that the very thought of seeing myself in a dungeon in irons made me tremble. As long as I could J woidd preserve my liberty, and when I Avas no longer al)Ie to avoid falling into the hands of the Duke of Cumberland, he could then make of me all that he could wish. I would then be resigned to all. The unfortiniato Lord Balmerino had his head cut oif at London during the time that I was concealed there, and he died Avith an astonishing constancy and bi-avery, Avorthy of the ancient Romans. The servant of Rothiemurchus told us that having gone through tlie field of battle, there Avould appear to have been more killed of the English than the Highlanders, Avhich gave us some consolation in learning- that they had not gained the victory at small cost. He added that the Duke of Cumberland after having left our Avounded on the field of battle for forty hours quite naked, had sent detachments to kill all those Avhose robust constitutions had been able to stand against a continual outi)oui'of ])elting rain, and that those orders had been executed Avith tlie utmost rigour, Avithout sparing any one.'* M. Chevalier Gordon, his brother, and Abachie haviu"- made up their minds to go to their oavu estates, in the county of Banff, about ten or tAveh'c leagues to the south of Rotliie- murchus, they proposed to me to go Avitli them. I consented at the instant, the more Avillingly that my brother-in-laAV, * The Duke of Cumberland was obliged to have an Act of Parliament to indemnify him for the cruelties which he had comniiitod in Scotland, con- traiy to the huvs of the realm, and to shelter him from prosecutions. 19 them- ; and having county \othio- nsonted ■in-law, Hollo, noAv Lord Eollo, Peer of Scotland, was established in tiu! tOAvn of Banff, capital of that province, and being a sea- port, wliei-c he had +he inspection of merchant vessels, by an np])ointment which lie had obtained lately from Govermnent, I hoped, by his means, to find an oj)portunity to pass beyond sea. So I abandoned Avithout difficulty the project of shep- lierd of my Lady Killihuntly, which had held me too long time in a state of uncertainty of my fate ; besides, being a stranger in tlie moinitainous districts, without knowing a single word of their language, determined mo entirely to pnt myself under the auspices of M. Chevalier Gordon. After a stay of tAvo or three days at Rothiemurchus, I <lc])artcd with the Chevalier Gordon, his brother, Gordon of Cobairdie, and Gordon of Abachie, and we slept at some miles from the house of one of their friends, near a mountain called Cairngorm, where the shepherds often find precious stones of different kinds Avithout knowing their value. I made, during some years, a collection of these stones, before being at the place which ])roduces them, and I have found them very beautiful ; above all a ruby, of great beauty, which piece did not cost me more than a crown, and Avheu it was polished, I i-efused to give it to the Duke c^' Hamilton foi- fifty guineas. This stone had the thickness of a bean or berry; the colour somewhat dark; brilliancy like the most i)eautiful diamond ; and all the jewellers of Edinburgh had taken it for an oriental ruby. I made a present of it to my Lady Jean Douglas, who repaid me amply, some time after, by saving my life. I had also found a hyacinth of a very beautiful brilliancy, and a topaz as thick as a pigeon's Qg(r^ and of a fine colour, upon which I engraved the arms of (ireat Britain ; and I made a present of them both to Prince I'^dward ; the hyacinth at Perth, on attachhig my fortune to his ; and the topaz, Avith ids arms, on our arrival at Edin- l)urgli. These gtmtlemen having agreed, at the entreaties of their friend, to adjourn the next day to his house, I accom- i 20 pahiecl him Avith great good Avill, and forgetting for the moment my disasters. I rose tlie next day, in the morning, at an e.arly hour, running immediately to tliose hills among the she])herds, where I found some beautiful tojiazcs, two of which I made a present of to the Duke of York, at Paris, sufficiently grand to serve his seal. On my return to diuner, seeing me enter the Lodge with a great sack of pebbles, tliey all burst out in a great roar of laughter; and the Chevalier Gordon exhorted me very severely to think rather of saving myself fi'om tiie power of the police, than to collect pebbles. I had my mind occupied as much as they with our un- fortunate lot, and the scaifold sufficiently vividly impressed upon my imagination, but I was satisfied at the same time, that the possession of a few pebbles would not accelerate my fate if it was my destiny to be hanged ; and the search of these stf»nes dissipated for a moment the idojis which absorbed my companions in misfortune. We arrived in the county of Banff the foui"th day of our dej)arture from Rothlemurchus, where it became necessary for us to separate — the populace being all Calvinists, and violent against the House of Stuart. Having lodged the next night at the house of Mr. Stuart, the Presl)} terian ministei", but a very good man, and secretly in the interest of Prince Edwai'd, on rising in the morning I exchanged my clothes of the Highland garb with his servant for an old peasant dress, all in rags, offensive to the smell, and in appearance as if it had not been in use for many years, nor since it had cleaned his master's stables ; for it liad the smell of dung to be felt at a distance. I made a comi)lcte exchange with him even to stockings and shoes, in every one of which, however, he found his account, and I much more than ho with these tatters, which wore calculated to assist in saving my life. Thus metamoi'phosed we took leave of one another, every one separating and taking a different I'oute. j\I. the Chevalier Gordon advised me to go and sleep in his house at 21 the of Park. I followed his advice the more willinfrly that his house, not being but a league and a half from Banff, I Avas approaching towards having an interview with my brother-in- law Rollo, but not without dread that some of the detachments they had in that quarter might be sent to search for and ap- prehend the Chevalier Gordon, who was a near relative of the Duke of Gordon, and might be able to make me prisoner at his place. I found Mrs. Menzies, his cousin-german, in his house. — "„ most amiable lady, full of spirit and good sense ; and I had passed some time very agreeably in her company in the house of Mr. Duif, Provost of Banff, a house the most I'ospectable and the most amiable that 1 have ever known in my life ; and quitted their charming society with the greatest regret possible to rejoin our army at Inverness. Madame told me that there were in the town of Banff four hundred men of the English troops ; and she exhorted me strongly not to expose myself by going there. But as an interview with my brother-in-hiAV was my only hope of being altle to save myself in a distant land, I determined to go contrary to her advice, and I departed the next day on foot from the house of the Chevalier Gordon, towards nine o'clock at night, leaving my horse there till my return. I met, on entering the town, many English soldiers, who took not tlie least notice of me, which gave me the most favourable augury of iny peasant's disguise, for ray clothes were so bad the j)()orest l)eggar Avould have blushed to have carried them on his back. Then my blood boiled in my veins at the sight of these sol- diers, whom I regarded as the authors of the pains and misery, which I began to feel ; and I was not able to allow myself to fix my eyes upon them but with rage and my soul full of fury. I continued my way, praying fervently to the Supreme Being to grant us once more only one single oppor- timity of avenging ourselves of their cruelties at Culloden, and that I would thus die tranquil and satisfied, — ^prayers which in appearance Ayere never granted. 22 I went straight to the liouse of Mr. Duff, wliere I had been so agreeable so littki time, before. IIo was secretly a. partisan of the Prince, but j)rudent and discreet, he did not declare his AV^ay of thinking but to his friends. He was the most amiable man in the world, endoAved witli all the good qualities possible, and of real merit. He lias the most equable character, jileasant, gay, enjoying great good sense, judgment, spirit, and discernment. Mrs. Duff, his spouse, I'escmbled in every respect the character of her husband ; and their two daughters, of whom the youngest sister was a dazzling beauty, were exact copies of their father and mother. Everybody in the house of Mr. Duff had but one way of tliinking, and it was the most delicious society, that I regi-ettod leaving as long as I lived. The maid-servant who o})ened the door foi* mo, did not recognize me on account of the oddity of my dis- guise. I told her that I was charged with a letter for her master, to be delivered into his own hands ; and I begged her to inform him of it. Mr. Duff descended, and at first did not recognize me more than his maid-servant ; but having fixed his eyes upon me for a moment, a torrent of tears suc- ceeded his surprise. He exhorted his servant strongly to be faithful in guarding the secret. Mrs. Duff and their daugh- ters being gone to bed, he conducted me into a chamber, and sent, upon the instant, his servant to fiiul out my brother-in- law, who had not returned to his house ; and all the incpiiries that coidd be made to find him were fruitless. My sis^ter was still at the house of her father-in-law, Lord Rollo, at Dun- craib, as it was not long thjit he had held his charge at Banff. My intention not being to sleep there if I should be able to find my brothei'-in-law innnediately, and ascertain if I could hope for his services in a moment so critical for me, — the neighbourhood of soldiers having too greatly disturbed me to be able to be tranquil, without fear at every instant of being discovered, I had resolved to leave Banff before day to return to the Castle of the Chevalier Gordon. Mr. Duff rv"i.\r«»i 23 returned at one o'clock in the morning, and I then -went to bed, without being able to shut my eyes. I arose as soon as the day began to appear, and resumed the taterdemalions. Seated in an arm-chair, Avith my eyes fixed on the fire, in a deej) revei'ie, and phuiged in an abyss of reflections whicli my situation furnished me with in abund- ance, suddenly the maid-servant entei-ed, and rushed by into my apartment, announcing to mi^ that I was lost, and tliat the conrt-yard of the house Avas full of soldiers to seize me. Less tlum that sulliced to rouse me from my ab- stractions. I looked u[) at the Avindow, and saAv actually the soldiers in the conrt-yard, as the ser\'ant had told me. Thus conA'inced ocularly of my misfortune, I returned to the arm-chair full of resignation, regarding myself as a man Avho should shortly end his days. I conjectured immediately that it Avas the servant Avho had betrayed me, having some; soldier for a lover, as is generally the case. There remained but a feeble spark of hope of my being able to make my Avay through the soldiers, Avitli one of my pistols in each hand ; and 1 kept my eyes ahvays fixed upon the door of tlie cliam- ber, in order tu rush upon the soldiers as a lion the moment I saw them ap})ear. Miserable resource ! in Avliich I had but little confidence to rely on ; but this Avas the last resort. Having passed about a quarter of an hour in these violent agitations, at last the door of my chamber flcAV open, aiul I rushed Avitli precipitation to attack them. But Avhat a sur- prise ! In place of the soldiers I espied the beautiful and adoralde Miss Duff, (he younger sister, out of breath, Avho cauK! as a guardian angel to inform me not to be any longer disturbed ; that it Avas nothing more than the soldiers Avho Avere fighting among themselves ; that they had entered the court to conceal themselves from their officers ; and that their quarrel liaving exploded itself in a few fisticuff's, they had left the court-yard together. Siie Avas of rare beauty, and Avas not more than eighteen years of age. I seized her in my 24 arms, pressed her to my bosom, nnd pjavo her a thousund tender embraces from tlie bottom of my lieart. In an instant the whole house Avas assembled in my cliamber, to congratii- hite me upon my deliverance — the noise of tiie soldiers having made every one rise, and it was scarcely six o'clock in the morning. Convinced of the sincere friendship and esteem of all this amiable family, one of my great solicitudes during this adventure was, that through their too great anxiety for mo some one of them might be apt to betray me innocently, had it not been for Mr. DufP, by whom I was reassin-ed from his coolness and presence of mind. My brother-in-law came to sec me the moment after this alarm. He made me all the protestations possible of friend- ship, at the same time that he excused himself for not l)eing able to contribute by any means to afford me an opportunity of embarking for a foreign land ; all the vessels at Banff being strictly inspected before their departure by the different ofRcers of Government ; and he advised mo very strongly to retire into the mountainous districts as the only course to adopt. I confess that I was indignant at him, the more so that he was under obligations to me without number. I an- swered him that I had no need of his coimsels, but his services. Ho took himself off, after having staid a quarter of an hour with me as upon nettles, and I have never seen him since, or had any accounts of him. He knew all the captains of mer- chant vessels at Banff ; so that if he had oeen willing to serve me, he could have certainly fouiul some one of the innnber Avho coidd have taken me into his vessel disguised as a sailor, which Avoidd have saved me from an infinitude of pains, and sufferings the most cruel, which I endm-ed before being saved ; but he did not wish to expose himself to the least risk for his brother-in-hiAV, who on all occasions ever gave him the most substantial proofs of his friendship ; and he was of a character that would not put himself to any inconvenience, not even for his own father, or all those who existed on earth ; regarding 25 himself born for himself, without bowels of compassion for his sj)ccics ill their misfortunes aiul sufferings. Misfortunes are the touchstone to prove men ; and I have learned by inino liow little one can count upon friendship in general.* All those from Avhom I expected assistance in my misfortunes threw off the mask, and discovered to me their falsehood and dissimulation ; and it was only those from whom I did not (ixpect any service that turned out true friends. Experience made me know in one day many, in place of having been <leccived all my life. I had even rendered most essential service to my brother-in-law a little time before.f Lord Rollo, his father, a %'iolont i)artisan of the House of Stuart, had taken up arms in 1715, in an attempt which was then made to re-establisli that House upon the throne ; but they were put to the rout by the English army, under the command of the Duke of Argyle ; and his Lordship, after having remained concealed for some years, obtained his par- don. After having passed a night at his Lordship's house when our army made its retreat from Stirling to go to Inver- ness, he pleaded incessantly that his age and his infirmities did not permit him to join Prince Edward ; and he conjured me with clasped hands to proceed to Banif express, to order his son, my brother-in-law, immediately to join himself to our army, under the pain of never seeing him in his lifetime. I communicated to my brother-in-law the orders of his father ; but I made him aware at the same time of the misery to which he would expose his wife and family in case we should be de- feated. My counsels were salutary to him ; since a short * "In the midst of disgraces the most frightful," says M. Bcdoycrc, "I derived a sweet satisfaction to know men and all their pcrfidiousness— they were no longer concealed from my eyes— I saw them such as they arc in effect— advantages reserved to the unfortunate, whoso reason, divested of prejudices, is the lot and the consolation." + It appears lately proved by the archives in the Tower of London, that my nephew, at present Lord KoUo, a peer of Scotland, is descended froax Raoul or Rollon, Duke of Normandy, by lawful wedlock. 26 time after he found himself in possession of the hinds and titles of the House of Hollo, instead of dying upon the scaf- fold, or being a nu'udicant in a foreign land. It is true, I had the interest of my nephew and sister more in view than his. Having j)assed tlic wliole day at the house of Mr. Duff, with as much agreeablencss as it was possible to retain in the troublesome position in which I found myself placed, I took a last adieu of that charming society about nine o'clock at night, in order to return to the Chateau of the Chevalier Gordon, and our tears were reciprocal and abundant. I passed the night without going to bed, in order to converse with Mrs. Menzies, not without fear of a visit from some detachment sent in ])ursuit of the Chevalier Gordon, and the mistake would not have been to my advantage. After a great many reasonings with this lady upon the part which I ought to take, I at length finally decided to gain the low country, to endeavour, as nuich as I possibly could, to api)roach Edinbrn-gh, to obtain succours from my parents and my friends, not knowing any person in the Highlands but those who were placed in the same embarrassment as myself, or to perish in the attempt ; to regard myself from henceforward as a lost man, who had a thousand cl unices to one to perish upon the scaffold, but who might have one chance in my favour ; to resign myself entirely to Providence, and to commit myself to mere hazard, than to any othei* resom'ce ; to preserve, ahvays, my sans froid and presence of mind, as absolutely necessary to grapple with the troubles and encounters Avhich I might have to meet with, and to profit by the favourable opportunities that might ])resent themselves. Behold what were my resolute and decided conclusions to put them into execution, and to think of noth- ing that could in any way divert me from this plan. Mrs. Menzies did her utmost possible to turn me from it, by repre- senting to me the insurmountable difficulties at every stcj) ; 27 the counties to traverse, where the famiticiil Calviiiistic ])('asants assembled in troops, of those even to form ])atrols, with their pastors at their heads, in order to make prisoners of llie niifortunatf jfcntlemen who endeavoured to save tlu-ui- selves in the mountainous districts of tlie country from the pursuit of the troops ; the great distance it was from Edin- burgli, and tlie impossibility of being able to cross the two arms of the sea (see the Plan, Vol I., page SJ, without a passport from Govenmieut, Avhere the English cavalry made their continual patrols along the banks and in the villages, to exaniinc and an-est all whom tliey suspected without a pass- port. But nothing could turn me from my I'esolutions to advance towards the south. J took leave of Madame Menzies at five o'clock in the morning ; she gave me a letter of recommendation to Mr. Gordon, of Kildrummy, one of her ridations, Avhosc house, Avhich he then inhabited, was at the distance of twelve miles from that of Mr. Gordon, of Park ; and she gave me a domestic to conduct me thither, whom I sent back immediately when we were in sight of his house. I asked at a servant of ^Ir. Goi-don's if his master was at home ? He answered me that he was gone out, but would be back to dinner ; and ho informed me, with a tone of indifference, that if I was cold I could enter the kitchen to Avarm myself, while waiting for his master's return. I accepted the offer, for he made it very frankly, and I entered the kitchen, where a great number of servants assembled around the fire, who believing themselves of a class much above me, left me for a long time at a side, before proposing to me to sit down, or to permit me to join their company, which I approached very respectfully. They embarrassed me much by their continual questioning ; one lackey demanded of me if it was a long time since I had been in the service of Madame Menzies ! I replied with a humble and submissive air that it was not above two months. I heard, at the same time, a chambermaid, who whispered in 28 tlio our of a lackey, but loud onou^li that T coiiM hear lior, that IMadiunc Mcuzies ought to have been ashanicMl to havcj sent a (lomcstit! Avith hor commission for his master so ill clad. Their jarfron, tomfooleries, and impertinences aimoycd mo to death, and made me impatient din'ingtvvo hours, when, for my deliverance, Mr. Gordon arrived. I delivered to him the letter of JMadame Menzies in presence of his servants, following; him constantly, even to his apartment, and immedia- tely -vVhen I saw myself alone with him I told him who I was, ami besecched him to give me a guide to conduct me as far as the first arm of the sea, not being accpiainted with the country. lie seemed ])enetrnto(l witii my situation, and showed all jjossible civilities ; anil sent, upon the instant, a servant Avith an order to one of his gamekeepers to furnish me Avith a guide as far as the estate of Kildrinnmy, which is six miles from that; and in waiting for the return of his servant, he found means to cause be brought in to me under cover a dinner, of which I ate heartily, without feeling an ai)[)etite, but for precaution, not knowing if I should iind any sup[)er at Kildruminy. The guide having arrived, I took leave of Mr. Gordon, and I arrived at an early hour at Kil- drummy, a village greatly celebrated for one of thi^ most memorable episodes in the history of Scotland, where I stopped to pass the night. The Scotch had been in alliance with France during nearly nine hundred years without interruption, since Charlemagne, till the union of the crowns of Scotland and England, without having ever varied in their treaties, offen- sive and defensive, but the Scotch were generally the victims from their attachment to that kingdom. lu all the quarrels of France with England, the Scotch began hostilities, France availing itself of the services of Scotland to make a diversion on the side of England, and to keep the English in check, — a manuocvre Avhich France ahvays played, and of which the Scotch Avere continually the dupes ; for the moment the 29 Hnjrlisli mado a dcst'ent upon France, the Ficncli auxiliaiics in Scotliind were re('iilh>(l innnodiately for the dofcncc of tliisir own countrv, and these unfortunate Scotch were left to their own forces to free tlieniselves from tlie miscliicvous adven- ture in the best way they couhl ; and Eu;j,land having; alwaya lieen much more itoj)uh)us than Scothuul, the Scotch Avcre luiiny times rechiced to tlic lowest abyss, their valour not heinj:; always able to sui)[)ly the Avaut of numbers. The Scotch after the loss of numy battles on end, having lost all the Lowlands of Scotland, as far as Kildrunimy, were slnit U]) in the Highlands, the dilficult access Avhcreof saved them from being entirely subdued. In that deplorable condition, Robert the Bruce, having re-assembled six thousand men, the shattered remains of the Scottish armies, placed himself at their head, and, at Kildrummy, fell unexpectedly Avith im- pctuous force upon the English army, who Avere inniiediately put to llight, withoiit one escaping to cairy the neAvs of their defeat, and Scotland saAv itself entirely liberated.* I Avalked about a great deal at Kildrummy, recalling this trait of history to my imagination, and lilliiig it thcreAvith so totally that I believe I could distinguish even the field of battle Avhere this lii'iliiant victory had been gained OA'er the English. I said to myself, "Ah! if this earth could open itself, how Avould it discover there the bones of the English Avhich it had j)resei'- ved in its bosom as precious deposits." In fine, the sight of this c.elebi'ated jdace solaced me, elevated my heart a little, and made me feel for the moment my pains assuaged and sus- pended, and my torments of mind abated. As there were but feAV inns at Kildrunnny, I passed the night in Avhat boi-c the name of the "Public, House," Avhere I re})osed myself upon a bed of straAV, much to my discom- fort Avith an enormous number of iieas ; but in recompense my landlady gave me for supper an excellent young foAvl, *It is reported that the English army then in Scotland amounted to ten thousand men, but it is more likely tliat the number is exaggerated. 30 and she surprised me next morning in demanding from me but throe halfpence, (six halfpence of France), for my supper and bed. It is true this was a hotel very extraordinary, wliere they had no need of any hard cash. This event gave iiic pleasure, seeing, at least, I should not have hunger aiul misery to combat with as I had had in the Highlands. M. Gordon had sent an order to Kildrummy to fiu-nish me with a guide as far north as Cortachy, a village belonging to Lord 0""ilvie, at the foot of the mountains, which I had walked along the sides of since my departure from Banff. Before my departure from Kildrummy, I made them roast another fowl, which I put into my pocket by way of precau- tion, uncertain if I should find anything to eat in my jour- ney ; and in giving mine hostess a piece of twelve halfpence, she was as content as I was. These good people know little about money, and in effect they have no need of it, having in abundance the necessaries of life. As soon as my guide had put me into the Avay to Cor- tachy, Avithout the possibility of deceiving me, I sent him back, and I arrived at Cortachy in the evening. I Avished, with all my heart, in crossing the country of Glen Lyon to meet there the minister of that parish, a sanguiiuiry villain, who ma le daily patrols through that country with a pistol concealed under his coat, which he presented at tlie head of our unfortunate gentlemen to make them prisoners. This iniquitous minister of the Word of God, regarded as a saint, attempted to make every one perish on the scaffold.* Mv. Menzies had forewarned me to be upon my gnard against him, but I did not fear him, having always my English pistols "* I have seen, says the authoi" of Giphantie, people who adore the same God, who sacrifice at the same altar, who preach to the people the spirit of peace and sweetness ; I have seen them engage in qnestions the most unin- telligible, and immediately hate them, persecute them, and mutually destroy one another. God ! what will become of men if they don't fuid in Thee more goodness than is found in those of weakness and of folly ? (Jcaso to be victims of misguided zeal, adore God, keep silence, and live in peace. 31 in a most perfect state, loaded and primed, one In each breeches' pocket. I desired, on the contrary, to find In'm, for the benefit of my comrades in misfortune, being well assured that I would not liavc had any difficulty to fight with him at pistols, for a man harsh, barbarous, and cruel is never bi'ave ; I have remarked this all my life ; but the punishment of this monster in human form was reserved for Mr. Gordon of Abachie. "When we were separated four days, after our de- parture from Rothiemurchus, Abachie took the post to go to his Castle ; and the minister of Glen Lyon having had infor- mation of this, placed himself at the head of a detachment of his armed parishioners, true disciples of such a pastor, whom he conducted to tlie Castle of Abachie, to make him prisoner ; and he had only time to save himself through the window in his shirt. As one hardly ever pardons an attempt made upon one's life by treachery, Mr. Gordon assembled a dozen of his vassals, — some days after departed with them in the night for Glen Lyon, and found means to enter into the house of the fanatical minister, having gone up into the chamber where he slept. They subjected him to an oper- ation too horrible to relate, which may be conceived but can- Tiot be described, assuring him at the same time that if he did not make these infernal patrol' of his parishioners to cease, they would cause a second visit cost him his life. None could in the smallest degree lament this adventure but one ; as to himself, his chastisement was not so tragical as death ' jjoii the scaffold, which he wished to prepare for Mr. Gordon of Abaehie. It is believed that he was sufriciently corrected not to follow any more his inhuman courses.* *Tlio Editor has endeavoured to i)iit the misdeeds of this miscreant into vei-so in th' following lines, which ho hopes his readers will appreciate^ how- ever fcehle tho execution. The disgraceful conduct of a ^Minister of tho (liurch of Scotland prostituting his sacred ofllce to the purposes of politi- cal rapine and revenge, can never be sufficiently reprobated, nor too severely punished. Hap; y it is that there are but few examples of such violence and wickedness, and uouc in the present day. 32 As the greater part of the vassals of my Lord Ogilvie were with him iirthe army of Prince Edward, I risked no- ^t |)avson of §k\x "g^an. How shall the Muse relate the tale, Might make the stoutest heart to quail ? It is not of arms or murder dire, Or sacked towns where hosts expire ; But one which covers us wita shame— A deed so dar^ we dare not name, A fiend in human flesh, they say Might well lament the fatal day ; But some say he uttered neither tear nor groan. Nor made his tongue to guilt atone ; But others tell a different tale, And say he spoke of heaven and hell. Not fit for poinard, sword, or rack. Rampant he rode through moors and mire. Without one touch of manly fire. Nor he alone ;— a bloody train Of parish folks— fanatic men, Whose souls ho trained to deeds of strife, Instead of leading them in walks of life ; A sad perversion of his honoured place. Omen evil to the rising race. And what dire design but death, Could bring him armed upon the heath With numerous crowds of followers in his train, To catch those called rebellious men. Among those whoso rank was high Stood Gordon, chivalrous Chief of Abachic. The monster parson of the glen Surrounds his house with Highland men, To catch him as in peace ho lay. To take him prisoner, or to slay Within his castle gates of Cortachy. So sudden was the onslaught dire. It seemed Uke gleams of liquid fire ; Its success, had they done the deed, Must have cost the Chief his head, And made another to be + M Had stained with hlood the scaffold. As it was, he just had timo To save his neck or break his spine. 110- 33 thing in addressing myself to tlic first house I should come to at Cortaehy, hjiving informed the landlady on entering the cot- tage that I was one of the Prince's army.* She told me im- mediately that there were two gentlemen concealed in Glen Prosene, a great ravine between two hills, whei'c there runs a small rivulet, which was at the foot of the mountains, — a pass altogether picturesque and greatly secluded. I took my way immediately, following her directions to the house of a peasant named Samuel, quite at the top of the ravine, about half a league from Cortaehy, where I found them as she had told me. They were Messrs. Brown and Gordon, the two officers in the service of France who had escaped from the ■■'The vassals in Scotland always followed the side which their chief took, whether it were for the House of Stuart or for that of Hanover. No sooner was the alarm but given, Than he from off his bed had risen ; Then almost naked to the road, Where beasts of burden only trode, Out at the window took his Hight, To meet the darkness of the night, — Without his stockings or his shoes, Or time his vassals to arouse. There's not a man whoso heart can feel For public or for private weal. But must detest all treacherous arts. However well the traitors act their parts ; And wonder not if vengean?" due The guilty traitor should i)ursue. So in this case, as will be seen, 'Twas neither low — nor coidd bo mean. To make the monster dearly rue. With retribution justly due, The dastardly attempt he made To endanger Gordon's precious head. Not many more than ten good days. Or nights that sparkled in the moon's palo rays, Thau he whose life liad been thus ensnared By traitors vile, who thus had dared. With vassals few, but manly stride Along the mountainous passes, ride C 34 city of Carlisle in England after its capitulation, ^vllo were very glud to see me again. They advised me strongly not to go farther to the south, where I Avould inevitably expose my- self to be captured, because they knew positively that all the towns and villages upon the coast of the chief arm of the sea were visited at every instant with all the vigilance and exact- ness possible, by patrols of cavalry, who rode continually along the coast, and who examined with the greatest rigour and severity all passengers. They added that it was their design, of trying to go to Edinburgh ; but from this they desisted, seeing the impossibility of reaching it, and they named to me many of our comrades who had been made prisoners within a few days by endeavouring to effect a pas- sage at the chief arm of the sea, which is about eight miles To the Parson's manso, surround the door With dagfi^cr, dirk, and bright claymore, Determined to avenge the traitor's deed, Tliat had imporill'd this Gordon's head. Aloft into the bedroom floor They mount, and shut the creaking door ; And such a scene we shall not tell. As there the sanguinary man befell ; Blood enough he got full sore. That made him wince, and howl, and roar. It needs net words his fate to tell. Nor what the loss he must bewail. The tender virgins heard his cry. His wife bemoaned with many a sigh. The men Ihcy stript him to the skin. And saw his legs wore very thin ; He cried for mercy at their hands. They said — " Dismiss your bloody bands ; For if we come again to use the knife, Depend it then shall cost your life." It is not oft such deeds are heard. Nor have boon known since days of Abclard. The moral of this talc is such — That zeal should ne'er bo over much ; Nor short- lived man betray his friend. But always helpless innocence defend. 35 from Cortacliy ; they besooched nie with these instances in view not to be obstinate, and to adopt, as they had done, the sojonrn of Glen Prosene, at the house of Samuel. With every desire that I had to approach Edinburgh, I did not wish to precipitate myself to perdition by rashness, my situa- tion being then so critical that the least false step from an error of judgment was sure to cost me my life. Thus I fol- lowed their advice, and consented without Avavering to remain with them at the house of Samuel. Samuel was a very honest man, but excessively poor. We dwelt at his house during seven days, and partook of the same cheer with him and his family, who had nothing for their entire nourishment but oatmeal, and no other beverage but the pure water of the river which runs in the midtlle of the ravine. We breakfasted in the morning with a morsel of oat bread, and not to choke ourselves, we drank a cup of water, which made it pass over. For dinner we caused boil this meal with water till it became tliick, and we ate this Avitli horn vspoons ; at night we turned the boiling water upon this mess into an sarthen pan, and this was our sup- per. I confess that the time I passed under this nourishment appeared long, altliough we all held out well, without our health being in the least degree affected. We coidd have had an addition to om* bad cheer by sending to bring it from Cortachy ; but avc durst n^t risk that for fear that the inha- bitants who knew the ordinary fare of Samuel would n^t doubt but that he had peo})lc concealed in his house; and that some evil intended person woukl not fail to inform the first detachment of cavalry, whom they might find at Cortachy, some of whom were there very often, to come to make us prisoui .s. Poor Samuel and his family, — never having known any other meat during the Avhole year, unless, iiei'ha[)S, in sunnncr, that they might have a little milk to mix with their oatmeal in place of water, — by their mode of living they were under the shelter of fortune, not fearing diseases which. 36 inip;lit deprive them of their meagre fare, but to which they might be less subject by that frugal aucl simple nourishment, which would not produce so much humour in the body f,s in those who lived in luxury ; and as they confined the neces- saries of life to a very small limit, they were certain to find what was sufficient wherewithal to furnish their subsistence and support by their labour ; besides, they enjoyed a health perfect and unknown to people bi'ought up in abundance and ease.* Their desires were confined to the })reservation of their existence and their well-being, without ambition to de- part from the state where nature had placed them, not even to ameliorate their lot ; content with what they possessed, they wished nothing more; living Avitliout care, sleeping with- out inquietude, and dying witliout fear.f One should call *It is in the nature of man to seek out the means of his happiness, that he should be as happy as it is possible for him to be— subsistence for the present, and if he will think it, for the future, hope and certainty of this fii'st boon. It is not necessary but to believe that we are happy to be so. It is this belief that makes part of our felicity. He who believes himself unfortunate becomes so. +The ordinary state of the human mind is a species of delirium. The soul is unceasingly agitated by a strange succession of vague thoughts and contrary passions. Man cannot be happy but by retrenching, not only his actions, but his useless thoughts. Says an author — We do not mistake our- selves, however, bj' this indolence. The calculations of nature are much greater than ours, guarding us from slandering her too largely. She leaves to the cares and passions of men the distriliution of riches, but that of happiness is retained in her own hands. She has no food for variety of dishes, and delicacy of best meats ; she has not put in common all the pleasures which she chooses to distribute to the human race ; she has given too much empire to the potentates of the earth. They can by their concur- rence reduce man by labour to have nothing for his recompense but jiain, they cannot elevate him ; neither his returning wants which give a sauce to the most simple nourishment, nor that burning thirst which pants with pleasure after the fountain, nor the sleep which refreshes sweetly his wearied frame, nor the spectacle of natiu'o which rejoices him at sunwako, nor the emotion which distracts him, nor that curiosity which agitates him, nor that blood which thrills deliciously through his senses, nor that hope, in short, which gilds the future, sweetens the present, and excites courage. All these pleasures of life are not in the powers of civilized possessors ; it is the boon of the poor as well as the rich. I 37 tlicm liJippy — if ha])[)iiies.s consists in exemption from pains — which follow imaginary wants ; and the remembrance of those good people, of whose felicity I was often envious, made me always think that three-fourths of men are miser- able by their oAvn proper faults, having in their })Ower tho means of being ha])py, if they would choose to regulate tlieir recpiirements according to their incomes, every one according to the means which he possesses. The absolute necessaries for man are food and raiment ; but what they mean ordinarily by the necessaries of life does not consist but of su})ei'flu()us things, no ways essential to the preservati(jn of their health and existence — on the contrary, often prejudicial, and which only serve to shorten their days. No one can be happy but by being contented with his lot, and p''oportioning his wants to his resources ; that is Avhat all might be able to do gradually, even reducing themselves to the condition of Samuel ; disenthroning ambition and avarice, as flies which multiply — without ceasing our imaginary wants — in such sort, that the more one ac([uires of honours and riches, the more is one insatiable and never happy. Happy mediocrity, verily! It is often in one's own bosom that one finds happiness, turning by necessity of spirit from cloying pleasures.* Besides our meagre cheer, to Avhich I had at first much pain and ditTiculty in accustoming myself, we were often disturbed by detachments of English cavalry, who made frequent patrols in our neighboui'hood. Samuel had a married daughter who dwelt at the entry of the ravine, and she served us as an *Cortaiiily, says Herodotus, there arc a grcai, many rich men who, never- theless, are not happy ; and there are a great many that are happy with but httlo patriniony. The rich man has many ways of satisfying his covetous- ness, and of bearing great losses. But granted that the other, though in- ferior to him in two things, he surpasses him, nevertheless, in tliis that he cannot suffer great losses, or bo subject to those covetous desires ; and this helplessness itself, which seems to be a disgrace of fortune, is for him an advantage and a favour. He enjoys health, he has virtuous children, he has a pleasing countenance, ho has an elegant deportment. 38 advanced sentinel, to apin'i'ze us when there were any detacli- menta of the Enj^lisli at Cortacliy, and Avho tran([uilized us durin<? the day, our sentineless he\ug^ very exact to inform us of all that passed there ; but wlien the troops arrived at the bejrinning of the night, we wei'e obliged to seek our security by saving ourselves in the neighbovn-ing mountains, where we often passed the night in the open air, even in frightful storms of rain and wind. Our sentineless, always attentive and alert, came to in- form us that there were a great many detachments wlio scoured roimd our quarters, and that they had nia<le prisoners of Sir James Kinloch, his bi'others, and many other persons who were found with them in his castle, and that M. Ker, a colonel in the service of Spain, aide-de-camp to Prince EdAvard, had also been captured about four miles from us, at the side of the little town of Forfar. She added that one detachment had searched through all the castles and environs of Cortachy in the hope of finding there my Lord Ogilvie, who was then not far from us without our suspecting it. According to what his Lordship has said to me since, that the same detachment had information of our retreat in the Glen Prosene, on account of these detachments which flew continually around us, we were all imanimously of opinion to take our departure from Samuel's house the next day at three o'clock in the morning to return to the mountains, and fix for some time our residence among the rocks, having no other course to take. In consequence of our resolution, we went to bed at eight o'clock, in order to make at least one provision of sleep at parting, not being able to hope to have the benefit of sleeping under roofs for some time. I have never been credulous in regard to supernatural stories, which peoi)lc listen to in all countries, and witli which they delude men from their infancy — the products of brains disordered by superstitions of old women or fools ; but I had this night a dream so extraordinarily incomprehensible 89 that if any other had tohl it mc I wouM have treated him as a visionary ; nevertheless, it was in the end so verified to tlie letter, and I owed to it my life in having been so much struck with it that, all incredulous as I had been, I was not able to refuse to follow the im})ressions which it had left upon me. T dreamed that, escaping from the pursuit of my enemies, rejoicing with entire satisfaction to sec myself beyond all dangers, and in a situation of the most perfect security, with the soid serene and tranquil, in short the most fortunate of men, having escaped perishing on the scaffold, and l)eing at an end of all my pains and sufferings, I was at Edinburgh, in company Avith my Lady Jean Douglas, sister of the Duke of Douglas, relating to her all that had hap- pened to me since the battle of Culloden, giving her a detail of all that regarded our army, since our retreat from »Stirling, and finally the risks Avhich I had run personally for saving myself, the idea of Avhich, always presented to my mind of perishing on the scaffold, had pursued me without ceasing till that happy moment, A\liich tiu-ned in my soul the salutary balm of the sweetest tranquility. On awakening at six o'clock in the morning this dream left an inq>ression so strong upon my mind that the sweet voice of my Lady Jean Douglas appeared to me still sounding in my ears ; all my senses were in a ])rofouud calm, at the same time that I ex- perienced a serenity of soul and a tran<{nility of mind which I had ceased to know since the fatal epoch of our misfortunes. All the particulars of my dream were presented to my im- agination, and engraved deeply in my memory ; and my soul was for a long time in this flattering state, sweet and agree- able, where my dream had placed it by the thought of being saved. I rested in my bed distracted and plunged in an abyss of reflection, my head placed on my hand, and my elbow leaning on the pillow of my bed, recapitulating all the circumstances of my dream, regretting that it was but a dream, but wishing to have often such to calm the storms and 40 agitations by wliicli my soul was clcvourccl by the uncertainty of my lot. What could be more cruel than to be continually fluctuating between hope and despair, a thousand times worse than death itself ; for the certainty of a suffering visibly un- avoidable makes one adopt his course with resolution and resignation. Having passed an hoin* in this attitude, immove- able as a statue, Samuel entered my chamber. He told me that my companions had gone at thrt-i o'clock in the morning, and pointed out to me at the same time the road in the moun- tains where I Avould find them. He added that he had been twice at my bed to awaken me before their departure, but linding me buried in a deep sleep, he had felt regret to awaken me, knowing the need I had of repose to fortify me at the commencement against the fatigues which I was about to undergo in the mountains ; he told me to be quick in rising, it being time to depart, for fear lest his daughter, believing that we had all left his house, might not be so exact of adver- tising, if there ajjpeared any detachments. I answered him in a soft and serious tone — " Samuel, I am going to Edinburgh. " Poor Samuel immediately opened his large eyes, and with an uir sheepish and stupefied answering me — " My good sir, excuse me, your head is turned." "No," said I to him, " Samuel, my head is not turned ; I am going to Edinburgh, and I shall dc[)art from here this evening. Go tell your daughter on the instant that I am still at your house, that she may continue her outlook, as usual, and inform me the moment that there are any detachments, in case they should come to Cortachy throughout the day." Samuel conmieuced to annoy me with his remonstrances ; but I imposed silence upon him, and 1 replied to him once for all that it was de- cided, and not to speak to me any more of it. Never did a day appear to me so long. I was left to my- self all the time to continual reflections between impatience and fear of seeing the night arrive. The detachments of soldiers, the fanatical peasants — still more dismal than the 41 soldiers — even the towns and the'villiijjjcs to go through arc full of these Calvinistic enemies of the House of Stuart, the peril to Avhich I should he ohliged to expose myself in ad- dressing myself to the boatmen for passing the arms of the sea, in short a thousand black ideas came to crowd upon my mind, the dangers always thickening in enlargement, and the frightful dilliculties which it was necessary to surmount made me tremble, but did not shake me in my resolution of going to Edinburgh or to perish in the execution of the attempt. I ended ahvays in replying to myself as if there were some one with whom I was holding converse — " Very well, I shall perish, Avhether in going to the south or to the moun- tains, it is all the same, and it is a risk throughout all ; but, if so I get to Edinburgh, T shall be more in safety than among the mountains, where I have neither parents nor friends, and where my acquaintances are but of recent date. I am ready ! Very Avell ; my fate will be promptly decided without languishing a long time overwhelmed with misery, as I should be in the mountains, and after that, perhaps, finish- ing my days on the scaffold." These were my reasonings; they found but snuill argument favourable to the course I had taken to go South, for all appearances were against me ; but my head Avas full of the dream, and if the whole earth had Avished me to turn back, they Avould have made no impres- sion, nor have prevailed ought upon me. At last the night arrived, which I had waited for impa- tiently. I mounted on horseback, with Samuel behind me, who consented to be my guide as far as the first arm of the sea, about eight miles from Cortachy, and we left Samuel's house about ten o'clock at night. There is a small town named For- far, most renowned for its Presbyterian fanaticism, and Avhosc inhabitants have signalized latterly their holy zeal by con- tributing to make Colonel Ker prisoner. Samuel had fore- warned me that it was necessary to pass through this infernal town, not having any other road which conducted to 42 Bronp^lity, a village on tlic border of the first arm of the sea, or abaiKloiiiiifr the great routes to pass it; so I departed lato from the lioiisc of Samuel, in order to ]mss through this exccralde town during the time tliat tlieso unworthy inhabi- tants were sunk in their nu)st profound sleef). At the monuiut that we entered into this abominable hole a dog barked and tcrrilied poor Samuel, who was a very honest good man, but very timorous, and naturally an excessive poltroon. Seizes' with a terrible panic he became like a fool, and wished b_^ main force to throw himself under the horse to fly from it. I caught hold of the skirt of his garment, and tied it under the horse in spite of all his efforts to disengage it, fearing that the fright he had received had turned his head altoo;ether. I would not suffer him to fly (although in the best possible dis- position, in cold blood, to serve me), and to leave me in the most cruel embarrassment, for I did not know the country, and I should never have been able alone to find the road to return to Cortachy without being obliged to ask from village to village, in exposing myself to be made prisoner bj'- this rabble. He wriggled himself about continually, ai threw himself on to the j^round, but I prevented him froii. unloosing himself from off the saddle by the hold which I had of his dress witli my right hand. I exhorted him to be calm, I scolded him, I prayed him, I threatened him, but always without any effect; his head was no longer his own. I was pleased to say to him, " But, Samuel, it is but a dog that's barking ;" he heard nothing that I could say to him. He was not possessed of himself ; he poured out great drops, and trembled like one in a fever. Fortunately, I had an excellent horse. The day after the battle of Culloden, being opposite the Castle of Macpherson of Cluny, Rose, which had saved me from the battle, was ready to tumble under me, not being able longer to sustain liimself on his legs, I met my Lady Macpherson on the high road, when she told me that there were seven or eight persons who had left their horses 43 road froi own. I near to tliat to save tlicmsolvos on foot in tho mountains ; and that r could take one of tlic best of thorn. I set spur.s to my horse, and passed tliroujrh the town at full speed, to leave as fast as it was possible this troublesome crisis, always holdiug on by his dress, and as soon as we were bcyoud it (no one having turned out of his house), poor Samuel be;jfan to breathe again. Having come to hinvself he made nie a thou- sand apologies for his terror, and promised upon his word that he would never again behave in that maimer come Avhat might. When the dny began to appear, I dismounted from the horse, which I offered in a present to Samuel, not being able longer to keep him on accoimt of the passage of the arm of the sea. But Samuel would not take him, saying that his neighbours, seeing him in possession of a line horse, would immediately suspect that he had harlx aired some rebel, whom he had aided to save himself, and that they would immediately inform the judges, who would indict him ; and the horse being a proof against him, they would condemti him to be hanged. I took off the saddle and bridle, which we threw to the bottom of a pool ; and we ■ "ove the horse into the fields at a little distance from the high vad, in ( rder that any one who might find him might take him for a stray horse. We had much ditficulty in [)utting at a distance from us this animal, which followed us for some time like a dog. We had marched only about a quarter of an hour after having set the horse at liberty, when we encountered a friend of Samuel's, who questioned him hardly to know where he was going, what he was going to do, and who I was. Samuel answered him, without becoming excited, what I could have little- expected of him since the adventure of the dog at Forfar, that he was going to look after a calf which he had placed last autumn for wintering in the low country ; as to this young man whom you see, as he had no bread, 1 have taken him out of charity, and he serves me for his meat. I 44 am going to send him back again to my house with the calf, while I shall go to Dundee to buy a cow, which will serve to provide my family during the summer. Tiiere was a jDublic- house near to that, where the two friends adjourned to drink a bottle of beer together, and it was necessary that I should go on with them there. I always showed so much respect for my new master, that I would not even sit down beside him tUl he told me to sit down. Samuel's friend insisted greatly on me to drink a cup of that small beer, which had exactly the taste of a medicine ; but Samuel exempted me ^rom it, making such a great eulogy of my sobriety and good character, that his friend paid me without ceasing a thousand litilc atten- tions ; wishing from time to time to get a youth like me for the same wages ; and I believe I was able to discover some small desire to detach me from the service of Samuel, to enter into his own. After having emptied some pots of beer, they left the inn and separated, affording me infinite pleasure ; for not only was I very much embarrassed to act the part which Samuel had given me to play, but their foolish jargon annoyed me to death. Scarcely had this man left us than Samuel whispered in my ear that he was one of the greatest kDa^■es and cheats in the whole province, and greatly renowned for his roguish tricks. Had he knoAvn who I was I would have been immediately sold ; and the sole temptation of having my wealth and purse would have been enough to betray me, rnd conduct me into the hands of the police. I was so much astonished at what Samuel told me that I believed t'uen in good truth they were bound together in friendship, which their conversation, full of mutual expressions of esteem, left me not room to doubt. I praised much the prudence and discretion of my new master on this occasion. AVo do not ordinarily attribnte, except to the courts of Princes, deceit, hypocrisy, and the art of deceiving — named, mal a propof , policy — as the only schools for learning false- hood and dissimulation; and all men, although masked, know 45 themselves to a certain degree by tliat which animates tlieir own interests ; and measuring otliers after tliemselvcs, they see and judge all that they are in effect ; but I saw (juite as much finesse in tho false appearances of friendship and comi)liments of these two peasants, during the time they Avere drinking their beer; and I was as much their dupe in full as I was in an interview at which I was present with two Lords of high rank;* one of them was one of my best friends, the other Ambassador to a court where he had promised and would have been able to have rendered a service to my friend, who was prescribed and exiled from his country, if he had been well disposed to it. These two persons embraced each other with an air of cordiality, saying a thousand flattering things to one another, and gave themselves mutually all that one could imagine of the strongest assurances of fi-ieiulship ; but the moment M. the Ambassador had finished his visit, and was gone, my friend made me aware that they both recipro- cally detested one another. I reproached him for having played a part so unwortliy of an honest and gallant man. lie replied that it was for the pui'pose of paying the ambassador home Ml his own coin.f The pantomime, nevertheless, of these two Lords would have deceived mo less easily, through the idea generally entertained of the duplicity of courtiers, than that played by these two peasants, shown by the falsehood and dis- simulation of the one, and the artfulness of the other, but a simple natural rustic. Falsehood is in the hearts of men in general, irrespectively of their rank in the world ! — (U>})ravity *M. Lo Due do Miropoix, then nmbassailor at London, nnd ii\v Tiord Ogilvic, now Earl of Airlie. + "To what a dcgrco our politeness," says an author of the ycrr 1448, "is false and triHing, as that which makes a parade of itself — great, odious, and insulting. It is a mask much more hideous than the most dofonnod visage. All these bowings and scrapings, tliese aft'ectations, and those other gestures, are insupportable to an honest man. Tho false brilliancy of our manners is more detestable than the coarseness of many more rustic, which is not so revolting." — Pago !3G7. Through all, one sees the baseness of man ; but where is his grandeur ?— to bo vile in his opinions, odious in his passious. 46 of sentiments which Ave do not find in the animal races ; for a dog will not caress when he wishes to bite ; these evil qualities are reserved alone for the himian rrce. Lying causes man to depart from his natural state, dishonours him, debases him, degra<los him below the brutes ; and, unfortunately, one finds it indiscriminately in the heart of one born to govern a king- dom as well as in that of a peasant. Having arrived about nine o'clock in the morning a dis- tance of about half a league from the first arm of the sea, without knowing how I would have passed it, to whom I could address myself to find assistance, nor where to find an asyhmi in walling for an opportunity presenting itself to cross the Firth, I demanded of Samuel if he could not point out to mc some gentleman in the neighbourhood of Broughty who was not an enemy to the House of Stuart, but in the meantime had not joined our army. " On my troth," replied Samuel, ''behold the castle of M. Graham of Dinnetrune, who answers precisely to wliat you define, two of whose nephews were in your army, but he has remained quiet at home witli- out declaring himself." I had not known M. Graham, having never seen him ; but I had often heard him spoken of by my sister Rollo, his niece having been companion to my Lady Rollo, her mother-in-law. M. Graham was of a very ancient family, a branch of the Grahams, Duke of Mon- trose, and was one of those who had taken arms in favour of the House of Stuart in 1715. Having then but small means after that unfortunate adventure, he got into the ser- vice of the English East India Company, and rising to the command of one of their ships, he acquired a considerable fortune, and again raised his family. I sent Samuel on the instant to inform M. Graham that he had conducted close to his mansion an unfortunate gentleman who desired exceed- ingly to speak with him. Samuel did not delay returning, telling me that he had found M. Graham, who had ordered him to conduct me to one of bis enclosures, where there were 47 very high furze, and that he would not delay to join me. M. Graham arrived immediately. I told him who I was, and prnyed him most instantly to procure me a boat to pass the Firth at Broughty, as this village was not above half-a-league from his house. I addressed myself to him, persuaded that he would certainly know all the inhabitants in whom one could confide. He replied that he would be greatly delighted to be able to be of use ; that he knew my sister Hollo, having seen her for a short time at the Castle of Lord Rollo ; and after a thousand apologies for not being able to run the risk of making me enter into his Castle (fearing his servants, of whose fidelity he was not certain), he told me that he would send forthwith to Broughty to find a boat, asking me at the same time if I would not wish to breakfast. I told him, that after having passed six or seven days at the house of Samuel, with nothing to live upon but oatmeal and Avater for our food, I should find very good whatever he should judge proper, and should do honours to it by my appetite. He went away, and sent me at once his gardener (of Avhose fidelity he was sure), with fresh eggs, butter, cheese, a bottle of white wine, and another of beer. Never did I cat with so much voracity ! I devoured seven or eight eggs in a moment, with much butter, and bread, and cheese. M. Graham returned into the park, but seeing me drowsy, he left me, reiterating his assurances that he would send immediately to Broughty to secure boatmen to tninsport me that night in a boat to the other side of the Firth. It was then nearly ten o'clock in the morning, and fine weather in the month of INIay. Having sent back Samuel very well pleased by a gratuity which I made him far above his expectations, I laid me down among the broom, which was five feet high, and I slept an hour, Avhen I was awakened most agreeably by M. Graham announcing to me the good news that he had engaged the boatmen, who were assembled to take me across the Firth in their boat that night at nine o'clock. I ii 48 M. Graham asked me what I would wish for dinner, making a detail of the good things in his house, all exquisite for a famished man who had partaken of such meagre fare at the house of Samuel. He mentioned to me a good sirloin of beef, and I begged of him not to send me anything else. Al- though it was then scarcely three hours since I had eaten copiously, I did not feel myself less strong as I devoured the sirloin, which I found delicious, and of a taste far above aV I had ever eaten in my life, of the most delicate and refined ; in fact, I would have been able to have indulged myself in a repast far more ample, not being able to foresee if I should make an equal one for a long time.* M. Graham returned immediately after dinner, bringing with him a bottle of old claret wine, which was excellent, and which we emptied together, so that I felt myself in force and in courage to face all ditficultics. He made me aware of the arrangements he had adopted, that at five o'clock precisely I should jump over the park wall, at the place which he shewed me, where I would see the gardener with a sack of corn on his back, whom it was necessary to follow at some distance until he should enter into a wind mill ; then there would appear an old woman in place of the gardener, that I should folloAV tlie same, and who would conduct me to the village of Broughty. ]\1. Graham kept company with me till about four o'clock, Avhen he took leave of me, em- braced me, and wished me the luck of saving myself. I regu- lated my watch by his to be exact at the rendezvous of the gardener. I had yet a mortal hour to wait in the park, which ap- peared to me long through my impatience. I held my watch, constantly counting tho minutes, and the moment the hand touched live o'clock, I set myself to follow the order of M. [* Wliothcr everything oaten of the best fare is enjoyment, or whether of every thing snperabonnding, the i^lensure is but satiated ; one has always a feeling for the first necessaries ; one has it not for worn-out tastes.] 49 regu- i iip- atcb, liand of M. rhcthcr always Graliam. I had no difTicnlty in discovering the gardener, with the sack of corn on his back ; but I was greatly embar- rassed to be able to distinguish the old woman among three or four old women who passed before the mill precisely at the very instant that the gardener entered it ; and I did not know which of them it behoved me to follow, until my one, seeing my embarrassment, made me a sign of the head, which I comprehended very well. Having arrived at the top of the eminence which descends to the village of Broughty, she stopped to inform me that she would go down herself alone, in order to see if all was ready, and told me to await her return on the highway were she left me. Broughty is situated on the sea coast, at the foot of an eminence, and one does not see it till one is at the top of this eminence, from which the road descends obliquely to enter the village. The sun began to set when the good woman quitted me ; and having Avaitcd more than half an-hour on the highway without her having reappeared, impatience at the last made me leave the highway, and enter five or six paces on the laboured land, to approach more nearly the bor- der of the eminence, in order to perceive if she was on the way of coming up again, Avhere I lay down on my belly on the ground in a furrow. I had not been five minutes in this state, to look out for the old woman, till I heard some one coming up, and saw a head appear, which I took imme- diately for her ; but having perceived the head of a horse, i lay down instantly as before, concealing myself on the ground with my head turned to the side of the highwa}-, when I saw pass eight or ten men on horseback at the point which I had just quitted ; and they had just only i)a^!SC(l when tiie old Avoman arrived, quite fluttered as they had followed her close. I rose up, and having aproached her, " Ah ! " said she to me, in a transport of joy and trcni- bling, as if she had been in a paroxysm of fever, ••' I ne^vr counted upon finding you again." I told her to calm herself D 50 and take breath, not comprehending at first what she wished to say to me ; hut hcitig a little restored, she endeavoured to explain to me the cause of her alarms. She told me that the men whom I had seen were English dragoons, who came to visit the village Avith so much severity and threatening that they had affrighted so dreadfully the boatmen whom M. Graham had engaged to ferry me over the Firth, that they would not fur- thermore undertake to do it. I reproached her a little for her imprudence and rashness for not having made me aware that the dragoons were in the village ; for I not only ran a great risk of having been captured by this detachment, if I had not quitted by the merest chance the highway where she had told me to wait for her, but I was tempted at many times, by my impatience at her tardiness in returning, to descend to the village, which I woidd luive done had I known the road to Broughty, or Avhere the public house was, without being obliged to ask from door to door ; and I should have been thrown into the mouth of the lion, by the silliness and stupi- dity of this woman, whose imbecility made me touch closely the scaffold ! What a dire position we are in when our life depends upon the conduct of narrow-minded people ! She answered me, that on entering into the tavern to find the boatmen, she was so overcome by seeing it full of soldiers that she v^as demented and did not know further what she should do. It was a dreadful disaster for me that the boat- men would not move farther, at the moment when I believed I had half saved myself by the certain passage of the Firth. I beseeched the old woman to conduct me to the tavern where the boatmen were, but she had no desire to return thither, excusing herself upon the usclessness of going there — the boat- men being so terrified at the threatenings of the soldiers, added she, that they Avould not ferry me over that night for all the gold in the world, and that I had no other course to take but to return to M. Graham's house, who would find means to conceal me till the next day, at night, that the boatmen 51 would bo recovered from their frijilit. I could not endure the idea of retracing my steps, the more es])ecially that, being upon the border of the Firth which had cost me so mucli anxiety of mind and wishes to arrive at, and which Avas so diificult to })ass, on account of its nearness to the moun- tainous districts, and detachments of dragoons, who were con- tinually patrolling upon its banks, the reflection that there was no depending for a moment upon the good dispositions of the boatmen to set me free — this unfortunate condition ren- dered me obstinate, and I hoped to secure them by force of money or persuasion; so I always persevered in assuring the old woman that this was the most favourable opportunity in the world, since the dragoons, not having any trace of rebels, would not return a second time that night to revisit the vil- lage. At length she listened to my reasons, and consented, although with some repugnance, to conduct me thither. On entering into the the tavern, the hostess, who called herself Mrs. Burne, whispered into my ear to fear nothing in her house, and that she had a daughter in our army with my Lord Ogilvie. I regia'ded this as a very good omen. She showed me immediately the boatmen who had promised to M. Graham to cany me over to the other side of the Firth in their boat. I addressed myself to them, whom 1 found .still trembling and terrified at the threats of the soldiers. All my offers, my prayers, and my entreaties, amounted to nothing; and having employed half an hour at this un- successfully, I perceived that two daughters of Mrs. Burne, Avho Avere beautiful as Venus, the eldest of Avhom Avas .scarcely eighteen years of age, Avere not indifferent to the boatmen, by the glances Avhich they cast upon them from time to time. I quitted these stupid brutes to attach myself to the two pretty girls, in order to enlist them in my interests, and make use of them in opposition to the boatmen, as it is natural for the .sAveethearts to have all i)OAvcr Avitli their loA'crs. I caressed them, 1 embraced them, one after the other. I 52 said to them a thousand flattering and obliging things, and vei'itahly I had no ditficidty in phvying this game ; for they were of the most ravishing beauty, and my sincere compliments proceeded from the heart. I was determined to pass the night at Mrs. Burne's, in case I should not succeed in crossing the Firth, and I sent back the old woman. At the end of half an hour, I had got my two beauties en- tirely in my interests, and each of them made a bold assault upon her lover, making them all the prayers and entreaties possible, but with as little success as myself, and without being able to bend th m — the terrors of these stupid lovers being much stronger than their love. The beautiful and charming Mally Burne, the eldest of the two, repulsed to the end, and, indignant at their obstinacy, turned to her sister, and said to her, "Ah! Jenny, these are lazy and despicable cowards. I would not for any thing in the world that this luifortunate gentleman shoidd be taken in our house. I feel pity for him. Will you take an oar ? I will take another, and we will go across ourselves, to the eternal disgrace of these two raggamuffins without souls." Jenny consented without hesitation. I fell upon their neck, and gave them a thousand tender embraces alternately, the one after the other, fi-om the bottom of my heart. I thought at first that the resolution of these generous girls woidd have influenced their lovers ; but these lazy dogs — move beasts than the brutes themselves — were not in the least degree moved by them, preserving their indif- ference, and leaving it to be done by these charming beauties without being in the smallest degree affected by it. Seeing the stubbornness of the boatmen, and wishing to [jrofit by the offer of these charming girls, I took upon the instant two oars upon my shoulders, and marched to the borders of the Firth between my two beauties. I launched the boat into the water, and these amiable girls having entered it, I pushed it along ; then taking one of the oars to myself, I gave them the other 53 to row by turns, by relieving one another, when thoy sliotild feel themselves fatigued. I experienced at that moment that every kind of skill may become useful. During the stay which I made in Russia, where they often made parties of pleasure on the river, I amused myself sometimes in rowing, little then foreseeing that I should avail myself of it one day to save my life. We left Broughty at ten o'clock at night, and we arrived at midnight at the otiier side of the Firth, which is about two miles in breadth ; the weather being fine, starlight, and suihciiiitly clear to distinguish the way. I ad- mired the conduct of Heaven towards me, and the visible effects of Providence ; but at the moment when I thouglit of my good fortune in having escaped the detachment of cavalry, and having passed the Firth, it came into my mind at the same time the infinite number of such encounters, which would necessarily befall me, still to encounter before being saved in foreign lands; and this reflection chilled the joy that I would have otherwise experienced. My two beauties having disembarked with me, to put me into the highway which leads to the town of St. Andrews, I took leave of these charming girls, truly enamoured of tlieir sentiments and gene- rosity, quitting them with a sensible regret, as I should never see them again. I embraced them a thousand times, one after the other ; and as they obstinately insisted on not receiving any recompense in money, I found means of sliding ten or twelve shillings into the pocket of the charming Mally, who was one of the most perfect beauties that nature had formed, made to be painted, with an elegant manner, and with all the graces possible. In any other position they would have been able to have tempted me to make a stay in their village ; and if it shoidd be my lot to return to my native country, I shall certainly be at Broughty expressly to see them. I had not been able to form any plan of advance that I should make, or the route which I ought to follow ; a tliou- sand^obstacles to surmount sprung up at every step, while un- 54 foreseen circumstances Jilso presented themselves in my favour. Ever attentive to preserve my san/j froid, and my reflection, to be able to meet troublesome and unexpected en- counters, and to avail myself rapidly of propitious incidents whicli might attend fortune (equally fickle in its favours and repulses), I always experienced a mixture of good and bad events, but uncertain which would preponderate in my lot. I could not recollect during my crossing the Firth of any per- son of my acquaintance who dwelt in the extent of the land between the two arms of the sea, which was about twelve miles in breadth — ^almost all the gentlemen of the county, wdiich they call Fife, having taken up arms for Prince Edward, were in the same situation as myself. 1 could not see any person there to whom I could address myself besides my cousin, Mrs. Spence, whose two grandmothers were sisters, daughters of Douglas, Baron of Whittengeme, a branch of the liouse of the Duke of Douglas. She had an estate close to St. Andrews, and made her ordinary residence in that town ; but St. Andrews was at all times the most fanatical town in Scotland, renowned by the assassination of their Archbishop, the Cardinal Bethune. Full of a malignant race of Cal- vinistic hypocrites, who masked their wickedness under the cloak of religion, the greatest cheats and rascals in their inter- course, and who, nevertheless, carried their sanctified dissim- ulation so far as to lift their bonnet in taking a pinch of snuff to ask God's blessing on it ; in short, who have always the name of God in their mouths, and the devil in their hearts ; a city truly worthy of the fate of Sodom and Gommorrah. Meantime, I resolved to go thither. It was a seaport, and I w^as seduced with the hope, of finding there my passage in some ship for foreign parts by means of my cousin, Mrs. Spence. Having marched the whole night, as soon as the day began to appear, I stopped upon the border of a rivulet to assuage my feet, the toes of which were blistered and peeled 55 ^< even to the bonos as with a razor, hy my thick stockings and rustic shoes, which I found full of Wood when I detached myself from them to ])ut my feet to trample in the Avater ; 1 f(dt immediately by the bathing the shooting pains less violent and more supi)ortable. During two hours that 1 remained there, my feet always in the rivnlet, 1 experienced a sweetness, and serenity overspread my soul, and a tranquility of spirits, withont the least agitation, and withont the more light effusions of the passions which prevailed, like as in my sleep in Samuel's house after the dream which made me enter into the rash enterprise of attempting to go to Edinburgh, although at the same time over})owered, and in a condition to move compassion in the breast of the most hardened. I was resigned to die, and 1 prayed the Supreme Being with extreme fervour to be pleased of his goodness and pity to terminate in an instant my sorrowful existence ! Certainly the prospect of death, at any other time so formidable, but which I then regarded as my greatest good, would have ap- peared sweet and delightful, and would not have had any- thing terrible in it. I regretted bitterly not having been killed at the battle of Culloden, having esca])cd it so nearly; and I envied the lot of my comrades who were reposing dead 7ipon the field of battle. The iiorrible idea of seeing an exe- cutioner with a knife in his hand ready to rip up my boAvels while alive*, and tear out my heart, still beating, and throw it in the fire ; my imagination was impressed with the idea that I should have the dismal fate of being taken, and this reflection made an impression so strong upon me by the pro- spect of thus perishing on the scaffold in presence of a cruel and barbarous populace, that I was often tempted to shorten my days in a moment on the borders of this rivulet, which were become burdensome to me ; and in my position the pleasures of existence appeared to me a very small thing.f * The mode of punishment to which all those were subjected who had the misfortune to be taken and condemned. 1 1 reasoned with myself on the immortality of the soul. 56 How do the effects of hope termiimtc, the smallest ray of whieh suj)|)orts the unfortunate in spite of the evidence of danj5er the most inevitable, inspires him with a supernatural coiu-age, diffuses a balm even on the wounds which produce his death, and seems to disarm the hand of the suicide. Is it in the power of Providence to give to man a succour and a consolation more usefnl ami more efHcacious ? and by n gracious felicity the unfortunate are not deficient in hopes ; they do not see in all their projects but the termination of their evils. It is from this that they terminate all their com- plexities. I implored the Almighty, that if it Avas my destiny thus to perish in sufferings, at least not to leave me to languish a long time between life and death — cruel incertitude and a terrible altcriuitive to support. I i)Ut on my stockings and shoes, and rose t(j depart, but scarcely Avas I able to keep myself from falling, my stockings and shoes being indurated with blood ; as soon as I began to move a pace, I felt pains which pierced me to the heart. I took off my shoes and stcxikings ; I i)ut my feet into the water, and having i/nmersed my stock- ings and shoes in the rivulet for half an hour to soften them, I then found myself in a condition to walk, and I departed. I met a countryman after an lunu* on the road, who told me that it was still four miles from St. Andrews. I flattered myself that the peasant was mistaken ; but I found in the end these miles as long as the leagues in the environs of Paris. According to report of the peasant, I had made ten of these miles since midnight that I left the boat. I arrived at St. Andrews about eight o'clock in the morning, much fatigued. It was Sunday, and the streets were full of j)eople, who stopped me at every pace to ask at me news of tl- rebels. I always answered them that I knew not^ «g, ' iug come only from Dundee, a town almost as fa' Andrews. I asked for the house of Mrs. Spem outej i the town, and having found it, I said to her cliaii Dermal' I had a letter to deliver to her mistress into her own ha. ids. 57 She lotl me into the chnmhcr of Ma«lam Spcnco, who was still ill bed, and immediately she retired. IMy cousin did not recognise me at first, oAving to my disguise ; but luiving examined me for a moment, she cried, bursting into a torrent of tears., ''Ah! my dear child, you ar<5 lost without resource ; how have you over been able to think of coming to St. Andrews, and to a house so much suspected as mine." She was a Roman Catholic. " The po})ulace yesterday,'* added she, "made prisoner the son of my neighbour, jNIr. lloss (who was disguised like a peasant), before he had evea rested half-an-hour in his father's house, and he is actually in prison at Dundee, loaded with irons." I did not expect a reception like this, but I saw quite well the false stej) I had taken, and I was very uneasy to get out of it. I besecched her for mercy's sake to calm herself, otherwise that she would be the means of betraying me, by raising suspicions on my account in the minds of her servants. Being a little tran({uilized, she wrote immediately to her tenant, who was at a ({uarter of a league from the town, to give me a horse, and conduct me as far as Wemyss, a village on the border of the Firth, which I had yet to pass in order to arrive at Edinburgh, about ten miles from St. Andrews. This was all that I could desire for the best, for I was over- whelmed with fatigue, and the wounds in my feet. She mentioned in her letter to the farmer that she was sending luider my charge to Edinl)urgh papers absolutely necessary, and very pressing for her process, which was about to be decided in Edinburgh in a fcAV days. I took leave of my cousin immediately, without having even sat down in her house, and I left with a little girl which she sent to conduct me to the house of her tenant, taking by-roads across the gardens, not to appear more in the streets of that execrable town. When I was out of it, the fluttering idea of having a horse as far as Wemyss gave me new strength and courage to support my pains. 68 I delivered the letter to the farmer, and the reply of this animal petrified me as a statue. " Mrs. Spence," said he to me, " is mistress to deprive me of my farm, to give it to whom she pleases, but she is not able to make me profane the day of the Lord, by giving my horse to travel on Sunday." I represented to him with all the energy possible the necessity of having a horse on account of the process of Mrs. Spence, and that the delay in sending the papers to her advocate might be productive of the greatest loss to her ; but all that I could say had not the least effect, and he persisted obsti- nately in his refusal. This holy scoundrel made no scruple to deceive and cheat his neighbours on ihe Sabbath as on other days, nor to spill upon the scaffold the blood of the unfortunate gentlemen whom they had made prisoners ia their infernal raids, who had never done them any ill, and whom they even did not know.* These hypocrites, tiie execra- tion and the refuse of the human race, with their eyes con- tinually lifted up to heaven, use as a mask all that is most sacred to deceive more securely ; and, imfortunately, this same spirit of hypocrisy is found indiiferently in all religious. f * " The man of the people," says a modern author, " is altogether a perfect savage, whose spirit and whose heart have not been in the smallest degi'ce cultivated ; the care of his manners is committed to piiests who are content to fill his imagination with terrors, fables, and chimeras, and oblige him to conform to their wicked practices — not dreaming in the smallest degree to render him either reasonable or sociable. In general, the people i?i every country are very devout, very credulous, very zealous for religion, of which they comprehend nothing, very much disposed to the interest of their priests, whom tuoy follow lilindly ; but they remain always in complete ignorance of the principles of true morality ; they have no idea of equity, humanity, sensibility ; they find the secret of allying religion \vith debauch- ery, sensuality, and, often, with crime. These fanatics veil their infamies and wickednesses by their devotion." f "In fine," says Puffendorff, "there is not an animal naturally more dangerous and more indomitable than mr.n, nor more inclined to vices cal- cuLi ted to disturb society, so far as it pleases him to exercise his fury against his fellow men ; and that the most jxirt of the evils to which l;uman life is subject proceed manifestly from man himself." — Duties of Man and Citizen^ tome U.J xjage 56. \ 59 Never could I fail to have great distrust of those wlio made themselves known with ostentation as zealous observers of the ceremonial part of religion, and by an outward devo- tion — their actions rarely conforming thereto, which is a mani- fest proof of their falsehood. In place of that, true piety is concealed in the heart, and seeks not the applause of the public. I would not fear these despicable minions in an open campaign, or in the villages ; for these wicked and cruel mor- tals arc always cowards, and these qualities are infallible signs of their want of heart. In knocking ou<^ the brains of one of these monsters with one of my pistols, I would make my retreat with the other pistol in my hand without any of these dastards ever daring to offer opposition ; but I was not tran- quil di.i'ing the quarter of an hour that I was in the town of St. Andrews. Frustrated in my hopes of getting a horse, I immediately quitted the house of the farmer, without having sat down therein, and took the road to Wemyss. What a horrible situa- tion ! Crippled by the wounds in my feet, which made me ex- perience a pain so sharp that the shootings deprived mc some- times nearly altogether of breathing — not knoAving to whom to address myself at the village of "Wemyss, supposing that I should yet retain strength to make out these ten miles — for- :eeing the risk that I should run there of being seized at the first inn at Avhich I should ask to pass the night — in fine, not knowing what to do nor where to go. I found luckily a rivu- let about half a-mile from that execrable town. I laid i\t u distance from me my musket off the highway, and having pulled off my shoes and stockings at the edge of the water, I Hobbes says in his treatise on Man, " Forasmuch as swords and guns are the arms of men, the brute beasts are providetl with nails, teeth, and stings : so man surpasses in rapacity and cruelty the wolves, the bears, the serpents, who do not exercise their rapacity, but when hunger impels ; nor their cruelty, but when they arc irritated ; and hunger itself in the distance renders man famished. All the scourges of nature do not revolt the human heart eciual to the injuries of man." 60 found the wounds of my feet considerably increased, the blood running from them like a torrent. I put my feet to steep in the water, as formerly, and did the same with my shoes and stockings, which were full of blood. But this was not my greatest evil : I had the mind as much lacerated and tormented as the body. The hopes that I had formed of any asylum and succour from my cousin Spence had vanished into air, and the ten long miles from Broughty to St. Andrews were useless and completely lost. I relapsed into a depres- sion of mind and body which I had never felt before. It was in vain that I racked my imagination to discover some resource. I could see none. The castle of Lord Rollo was at the side of the Firth, but at the distance of twenty-five miles to the south. I was convinced of the friendship of his Lordship and the benevolence of all his family ; but how was I to get there ? It was several days' journey for me, then, so fatigued and knocked up. Besides, supposing that I should be able to get there, I should find myself at a greater distance from Edinburgh than in the place where I was. I did not know which way to turn me. In the meantime, I saw no other course to take ; and, in short, I decided on it, forming my plan to make the way by short journeys, and always to sleep in the fields, to avoid as much as I could the towns and villages which I should find in my way in going to Lord Rollo's. The body borne down with pains and fatigues, and the mind cruelly ag'tatcd and tormented — lost in an abyss of reflections, all of a sudden I recollected myself of a chamber- maid of my mother, who was married some two years before to George Lillie, gardener to M. Bethune, at Balfour, whose mansion was not but half a league from Wemyss. This girl having had a great deal of pains and cares for my mother during a long illness which she had suffered, my father, in consideration of her attachment, paid the expense of the nuptials. I knew wel' 'it Lillie was a Calvinist, and one of 61 the most furious and outrageous in these districts ; but, from the favours he had received from my family, I did not dread treachery on his part, supposing he should not lend himself to my service ; and, in case he should incline to receive me into his house, I should he there in the greatest security. The remembrance of Lillie and his wife gave me an absence of mind so inconceivable, that I wished upon the instant to go thither, without thinking even of going to sleep, and with- out perceiving that I had not rested, not haviiig had a (juar- ter of an hour that I had sat down, and I felt no more neither my weariness nor my pains. Zeno and the Stoics, a sect of philosophers, have maintained that there are neither real pleasures nor pains, and that different sensations depend upon fixed attention upon our enjoyments and our suf- ferings. It is certain that, in this moment of absence of mind, I did not feel any more the pains of my feet, though very violent ; but from this reverie I was awakened in an instant. This philosophy would be a grand happiness to men if these philosophers were able to teach us the art of with- drawing our attention when we pleased.* I had eaten nothing since my repast in the enclosure at Diimetrune, where M. Graham filled my ])0('kets with bread and cheese. In fact, I had always had my mind too much occupied to feel hunger ; but my appetite returned with my * " One pleasure which I have searched for," says the Abbe do Cardillac, " C(iual]y recals all the agreeable ideas with which it is possible to be allied ; the iniaginatiou reviews many si'usible i^erccptions for nie which it receives ; aiid in that state it enjoys pleasures the most vivid. When it seizes on tho action of my imagination, I feel immediately an enchantment. By this ex- plication, we feci that the pleasures of the imagination are as real, and also as natural, as others, although one prononnces generally tho contrary ex- ample : — A man tormented by the gout, and who is not able to bear it, per- ceives in a moment that ho has thereby at least recovered a sense that ho believed to be lost — more pain ; an instant after, the tire has been set to his house — more weakness ; ho is already out of danger wlien he dreams of suc- cour. His imagination, suddenly and vividly struck, reacts upon all parts of liis frame, and produces a revolution that saves him." — Ensai/ on the Oriyin of Human Knoiclcdgc. 62 hope of finding a refuge at the house of Lillie ; and taking out of my pocket some of the bread and cheese, I made a good repast of tliem during the time my feet, shoes, and stockirjgs, soaked themselves in the stream. My strength and courage returned at the same time ; and having taken two hours repose, and phiced some white paper under the wounds of my feet, to prevent the rubbing of my slioes and stockings, I made six miles all on a stretch Avithout stop])ing, the half of the road from St. Andrews to Wemyss, and there did not remain more than four from that to Balfour. The desire and impatience to be there made me feel less keenly my fatigues and pains. I still found a rivulet where I could repose, making the same oper- ations as formerly. My toes and feet were in a most pitiable case, lacerated and torn even to the bone, of which I shall retain the marks all my life, having the second toe of my left foot entirely twisted by the cruel journey. In the meantime, they did not hinder me from accomplishing the other four miles to Balfour, although suffering the most excessive pains ; and I arrived there about nine o'clock in the evening, with joy and pleasure which surpass imagination. When I found myself within a short space from the house of Lillie, I seized the door with both my hands to prevent me from falling to the ground. My strength was totally exhausted, and would not have enabled me to go a step fartlier to have even saved me from the scaffold. With diihculty my legs were able to support me in dragging me up to the door. What will necessity and the desire of preserving one's exis- tence in a case such as mine not do, seeming to give an increase of power to sustain incredible efforts. Having knocked, Lillie came to open the door to me ; and not having recognised me under my beggarly dress, he said to me several times with What are you seek answer him, but advanced inside the door, fearing that he woidd shut i ([uickness and fright, "AV' want :• lUg you are you I did not out by the nose ; this made him redouble his terror, and he was 63 I quite trembling, taking me for some robber. I asked him if he had any stranger in his house? His wife, vho was seated before the fire, recognised my voice, and perceiving my habiliments, she cried immediately to her husband — " Oh ! great God! I know him; shut the door quickly." Lillie obeyed without further examining me ; and following me up to the light he also recognised me. In spite of my grievous condition I could not keep myself from laughing at the atti- tude of Lillie at the moment of his surprise in distinguishing me under my disguise. Confounded, stupefied, petrified as a statue, he joined his hands together, even lifting his eyes to heaven. "Ah!" said he to me, " this does not surprise me I My wife and I were speaking of you yesterday evening ; and 1 said to her, that for all the world I believed that you were with that wicked race." I answered him that he had reason to believe that, from the principles of attachment in which I had been brought up for the House of Stuart. " Actually," added I to him, " it is necessary to assist me, my poor George, to save me from the powers that be." This was a melan- choly adventure, and truly humiliating for Lillie, to be obliged to give an asylum to a rebel, and to find himself Tuuler the necessity, from gratitude, to succour one of those whom he so much decried ! he who, of all the country, had been one of the greatest orators against the rebels, with his voice in their meetings, louder than others in exclamations against the Pope and the Pretender, whom he always joined together. Lillie was an honest man, notwitlistanding his faiiatical principles. Ho assured me that he was penetrated with my condition, and he would do all that could depend upon him to save me and get me across the Firth as soon as it shoidd be possible. Finding me as an automaton, without the poAver of moving either arm or leg, Lillie and his wife undressed me, and (the gardeners in Scotland all making a trade of (piackery), Lillie having bathed the wounds in my feet with whisky, which made me suffer an insupportable 64 pain, applied to them ia tlie end a balm, and they put on me their stockings and slippers. I found myself solaced by this operation, and as it were resuscitated. I sent Lillie to make my compliments to his master, M. Bethune, beseeching him not to consider me bad if his gar- dener lost some hours of work, I being at his house and in great need of his services. M. Bethune sent back Lillie on the instant to say to me on his part that he was in despair at not being able to come and see me, having been indisposed for some time, and having that moment gone to bed ; that he could do no more than offer me a bed at his house, where I would be much better than in Lillie's, but that he begged me most instantly to send and fetch freely from his house what- ever I shoidd stand in need of. He wished that Lillie should take charge of chickens, wine, and other things; biit from some desire that Lillie had to afford me good cheer at his own house, he very prudently did not wish to take anything, fearing, as he said to me, that it might create suspicion among M. Bethune's domestics that he had some one con- cealed in his house. I praised Lillie miu'Ji for his prudence and discretion. Mrs. Lillie brought me quickly a plate of collops, which I devoured in haste, having more desire to sleep than to eat ; having been two days and as many nights ahvays on the march, since my departure from Samuel's, without having slept but three hours in the enclo- sure of M. Graham. Lillie having undressed me, carried me in his arms to bed ; it was impossible for me to put my foot to the ground for all things in the world. I slept in one con- tinued slumber from ten o'clock in the evening to the next day, at nine and a half hours in the evening, twenty-three hours and a half without ever awakening, Mr. Lillie having given orders not to make the least noise, and not having wished to awaken me to receive the visit of M. Bethune, who had come to see me. As nothing restores the exhausted body so much as sleep, i 65 ! the precious gift of nature, and a boon of licavcn in our suffer- ings, I felt myself greatly refreshed, the body so •vvell restored, and it was only my feet which caused me to suffer much. Mrs. Lillie had a chicken ready lo put upon the spit the moment I should awake. I ate it in my bed before I rose. Lillie having removed the dressing which he had put upon my feet, replaced it by another. He told me that his wife's mother kept an inn in the village of Wemyss, much frequented by fishers ; that perhaps she Avould find me some one of her acrpiaintance who would willingly put me across the Firth ; and he proposed that I should go there with him if I was in a condition to travel, Wemyss being not more than half a league from Balfour. I was not displeased that Lillie, in his desire n shake himself clear of me, was as anxious to save me as I wa.^ myself. lie offered me a horse on the part of M. Bethune, but before accepting it, I wished to try my strength and see if I was in a state to travel. Having arisen and made the tour of the bed-chamber, sup[)orted by his arms, I saw that I was able to do without the horse. Mrs. Lillie, with usual attention, <luring the tinu! that I slept had cut the feet of my great boots to make the stockings more comfortable ; in spite of that I always suffered great pain in my feet. We set out towards half -past ten in the evening, and I Avalked with pain ; borne up rather by supp.ort on the arms of Lillie, he trailed me after him ; but the hope of finding an opportunity of crossing the Firth, and going up to Edinburgh, prcvoiited me from feeling the pains which at any other time would have appeared to me unsupportable. Along the road, I said to him jokingly, '■' My poor Lillie, if I am actually taken in our journey, what a figure you would cut. You never durst shew yourself to advantage in these jiious assemblies. Your rcput'ition of the good Calvinist would be gone without re- source." He let escape a deep sigh, and cried out, '' Ah ! Sir, do not speak to me of that." I made an attempt to laugh, E G6 and continued, "It is true, Lillie, you would not bo injured all your life like me, but your character would be lost for ever among your brethren." I amused myself during the whole route in making similar remarks to him, and I had the pleasure of observing that he regarded his honour as completely en- gaged, and that he sought to get me across the Firth as soon as possible — as much for fear of being discovered at his house, as to make a merit in the estimation of my family. Arrived at the house of his mother-in-law, she told us that of all the fishers of Wemyss she did not know anyone that one could trust, except one named Salmon, adding that he was a very zealous Calvinist, and a violent enemy against the party of Prince Edward ; but, besides, a man of wealth, and much distinguished in the village for his probity and good manners ; that we could apply to him immediately, and that if he did not incline to render me u service, he was too hon- oural)]e a man to do me an injury. We went instantly to the house of Salmon. It was nearly midnight, and we found him already up, and engaged arrang- ing his nets to go a-fishing. Knowing the voice of Lillie, he opened the door to us. Lillie, after many efforts, at length broke silence Avith a plaintive tone of voice, and a humble air, abashed, bnshful, and embarrassed. "Salmon, my friend," said he to him, '• behold the only son of my wife's mistress. He has been fool and rash enough to join that wicked race whicli seeks to destroy our religion, and renders us slaves. Behold, my friend, the miserable state to which he has reduced himself. Everybody knows tlie kindness his family has be- stowed upon my wife and me at our marriage. I honour them and respect them ; and I fear much that if he were taken it Avonld cause the death of his mother, as well as his father, for they are very much attached to him, being their only son. I come, my friend Salmon, to beg you with joined hands to give him a passage tomorrow in your boat when you go to Lcith to sell your fish." The pathetic manner in which Lillie hon- le, he ength ic air, •lend," itress. id race slaves, (luccd IS be- lonour takcu ■atlicr, y son. mds to go to Lillie 67 spoke to Salmon gave me pleasure ; but the reply, couched in a morose tone, did not please me so well, and gave me no hope of relief. "You deserve well," said Salmon, "when you save his life — you who wish to abolish our holy religion, destroy our liberties, and render us slaves. No, Lillie, he addi'csses himself badly to me. I would not do him any evil — I am not capable of informing against him — he is in safety in that respect ; but he ought not to expect that I will ever do him a service, nor any one of that wicked race of rebels." I offered him all the gold that I had remaining — six guineas — to carry me over next day in his shallop ; but he was not inclined to listen to speaking about advantage. I could not ; and seeing that it was not on the side of interest that he could be taken, — not being selfish, and that he appearing from his physiog- nomy to be an honest man,* I had no other resource than to abandon my enterprise. I had offered him all my money without making any impression upon him. I hoped still to convert him in my favour by persuasion. As he kept an inn, I requested of him at least to have the pleasure of drink- ing a bottle of beer with him. He consented ; and I did not spare the beer, drinking cup after cup with them : in the mean- time without speaking any further of my passage, but always attentive to insinuate myself into his good graces, to render him propitious to my wishes. At the end of an hour, he turned his head to Lillie, and said to him, " It is a great pity that this young man has been seduced and perverted by that un- worthy rabble of rebels ; he is a good boy." Lillie profited cleverly by this to let fall some words in my favour, and said to him that it would not be long ere he repented it severely. * A mirror more true, more expressive than his gesture, his discourse, and even his accent, which could sometimes disiifuise itself, but whicli could not paint this rapid li!:^ht which divides the soul, which has its involuntary course glistening in the eyes even of a knave, who feigns zeal and draws the curtain, and wishes to shape it to his own soul ; but it escapes, it pierces his disguises, and leaves him to see himself naked in spite of every elFort to the contrary. G8 I did not appear to understand them ; but I saw my affairs were in a prosperous way; and I continued to pusli the bottles of small beer, which was Aveak as water. In short, 1 played my part so well, and gained so entirely the frieiulship of Sal- mon, that this honest man offered me all at oiice a passage in his long boat next day, without wishing to be understood as speaking of money, but from a pure and noble generosity on his part. It is true, this Avas not a game diflicult to play face to face with poor Salmon, a nuui truly virtuous and respected by all the village for his good morals and excellent qualities, as the mother of Mrs. Lillie had told me of him ; and a virtuous man can never have a Ir-ird heart, but is always sus- ceptible of compassion and humanity for the unfortunate. In whatever class among men one finds virtue, it pleases, and one is prepossessed in favour of him who possesses it. Thus, one is not obliged to do violence to one's sentiments, to say flattering, obliging, and courteous things to a worthy man, whatever be the lowness of his condition, as one is in presence of a Lord of the first rank without merit, and whose elevation is the effect of chance. Salmon had but one share of the long boat with several other fishers, and he had the circumspection of guarding him- self in presence of his ptirtners. He told me to conceal myself in a cave which was in sight of the sea, about a gun-shot from "Wcniyss ; and at the break of day, when I should see the fishing boats reurning into port, I should come down and demand from the one where I should see him if he would give me a passage to Leitli on payment ; that he would answer me, " Oh, yes;" and he would settle immediately with his partners as to the price. If any one of the boat should not be willing to agree, he would engage them to consent to it — Salmon and Lillie at the same time teaching me the accent of a countryman in which I should address them. I quitted Salmon, putting a guinea into his hand, telling him that that wiis only arles. He made difficulty in accepting it, representing to me that I 69 ought to save it, bocauac it was not gain that induced him to render me a service. Lillic having accompanied mc as far as the cave, took leave to return home, and offered me au asyhim at his house in case this opportunity should not bo successful. Although I regarded ray passage across this arm of the sea as beyond doubt, I was very glad to find a secure retreat at the house of Lillic — it being impossible to forsec the troublous circumstances that might occur to me. This cave was one of the curious anti(pnties of Scotland, and according to tradition was formerly a Pagan Temple. It is scooped out under a mountain, the entry of which may be about five feet in height, and three feet in breadth, and the edge of the sea is at a distance of about thirty paces from the foot of the mountain. It is very high and spacious inside, and appears to have been of an immense depth. Au adventure happened to James II., King of Scotland, in this cavern, which has rendered it celebrated. Tiie King, who amused himself going about the country under different dis- guises, found himself overtaken by a violent storm in a dark night, and took refuge in this cavern to afford him a shelter from the tempestuous weather. Having foisted himself inside, he found there a great many men and women, ready to seat themselves at a table to sup upon a roast sheep. He supposed at first by their looks that he had not fallen into good hands ; but it was beyond his power to retreat, and he begged their hospitality until the storm was over. They consented to this, and invited the King, whom they did not know, to sit down at the table with them to partake of part of their supper. This was a band of robbers and assassins. Immediately on their finishing their supper, one of them presented an ashet upon which there were two poignards in the form of a St. Andrew's Cross, saying at the same time to the King that that was the dessert which they always served to strangers ; and that he behoved to choose one of the poignards to fight against the one who should be deputed by the company to 70 attack liim. The Kinp; did not lose his presence of mind. He fecizetl quickly tlic two poignards with botii hi.s hands, buried them in tlie hearts of the two robbers who were sitting on eadi side of him, running lilce liglitning to the mouth of the ca^'c, and escaped their pursuit by the dariiuess of the night. The Kiiig caused seize tliis troop of assassins next day in the morning, and made them all be hanged. I entered a small way in advance in this cavern, and laid myself down upon the earth, where I slept about an hour, till all of a sudden 1 was awakened by a noise the most horrible and terrific that I had ever heard. I doubted at first of the fidelity of Salmon, in spite of the very favourable opinions I had formed of him, fearing that it was a detachment of sol- diers which he had sent to make me j)risoner. I ensconced myself in the depths of the cavern with a pistol presented in each hand, advancing always initil I should find myself cased up against the wall, the better to defend myself. Having remained for some moments in this attitude, I prepared to defend myself or to be killed rather than to be made prisoner. I listened at the same time to the noise with attention, and I was soon quickly convinced by the velocity of the movement of the object which created this hubbub, that it could not be from men, and that was all that I then cared for. For some time the object was close to my cars to affright me, and the instant after in the distance with a swiftness and rapidity incredible in its march. Thus I ceased to listen further to this horrible phenomenon, of which I could comprehend nothing, which made a racket and noise very like that of trumpets, and in short a combination of different sounds which was to me altogether unknown. I approached to the entrance of the cave, without having any inclination to sleep more. As soon as the day began to clear at a distance, I fixed my eyes upon the sea, to bring to my view the boats which were fishing a quarter of a league from the shore, and as soon as I saw them cuter the harbour of Wemyss, I then de- 71 ■f ccndcd from the cavern, and followed with exactitude the instructions which Salmon had given me. The boat, to my misfortune, had made a very bad fii^liinfr, and Salmon had hccn forced by hi.s partners to sell their lish to another boat, tliey having so few that it was not worth while to go to Leith to sell them. 1 asked them if they woidd grant me a passage to go to Leith for j)ayment. Sahnon answered me immediately " most willingly; " and he went up to his partners in order to arrange about it among tliem- selves. They all agreed to it in consideration of a crown of three "livres" for my passage, and I had inconceivable joy at it. At the moment that we were agreed, and that I Avas going to embark, Salmon's wife arrived — cursing and swear- ing " that she would not allow her husband to go to Leith to-day, where he had no business, his boat having sold all his fish, above all with a stranger; and that there appeared some- thing mysterious in it which she could not comj)reheud." What a dreadful misfortune for me ! I swore and railed to myself against this wicked fish-woman ; but this did not further me a bit; and Salmon, who was the weakest l)arty, was obliged to submit himself to the will of his wife. J had the prudence not to mix myself up with their dispute, fearing — from the suspicions she seemed to show — that she had been able to luiderstand our conversation in the night, while we were in drinking the beer, not knowing that Salmon Avas married, and that his wife was sleeping in the chamber even where Ave Avere. I desisted Avitli a good grace, and Avith an air of indifference. Salmon proposed to me to drink a bottle of beer together. I consented to it ; and in going uj) the stair, he slipt into my hand the guinea Avhich I had given him on leaving his house, Avhispering into my ear — "You see, Sir, that I am not master. I Avish you, Avith all my heart, the happiness of saving yourself ; and I am soriy at not having it in my power to contribute to it." I admired the honesty of Salmon ; for not only could he have kept the guinea by in- 72 forming against me, and have liad my purse and wateli, bnt he would have liad a considerable reward given him by the Governn. 211+ foi every rebel tliat he might make prisoner. This goner( ns con-lnet was so much the more to be praised, that he was an enemy of the House of Stuart, and that lie did not know me. Humanity alone, and a noble spirit, made him act with elevated sentiments above his condition. I was not inclined to return directly to the house of Mrs. Lilliii's motlicr, this wicked fish-wife having expressed her sus- picions of me before every one. I was afraid of being fol- lowed. I took the long route along the seaside to return to the cavern, and when I was opposite the entry, looking arouiul me on every side, and seeing nobody, I proceeded quickly inside. I had an extreme curiosity to find out the causo of the terrible uproai which h'ld given me such un3asines3 in the night, of which I could form no idea. I advanced thirty or forty paces in the darkness,, having lost even the sight of the mouth of the cave, and the great noise commenced immediately the same as before ; but when I cla]iped my hands, and cried with all my strength, it increased a thousand times more, and astounded iny ears completely. I perceived even the outline of the rapid movement of those unknown objects which con- stantly appi'oachcd nearer to me as if they would attack me. I retiu'ned back as far as I was able to see the entrance of the cavern, and redoubled my cries and clapping of hands ; I saw depart in the end, owls and other innumerable birds of prey. The frighttul noise of these animals couhl not be compared to any sound 1 had ever heard, their cries and flapping of wings in flying were confounded together by the echo of the cavern, and made but the »ame kind of noise, which pierced my ears ; and the impetuosity of their flight resembled the raging of a storm. If T had not examined to the bottom, with coolness, the cause of an oifcct so singular, I never could have known to what to attribute it, and doubt not that an anchorite saint, had he been in my place, would have found supernatural mir- 73 acles, in this adventure, and would have made romantic stories,, as good St. Anthony, — for enthusiasm is alwa.ys closely allied to credulity and childishness. I sought (juietly to discover something of which I had no idea what it was, and which I* did not comprehend ; comparing Avith attention all the cir- cumstances, preparing to defend myself with my pistols if it was any ferocious animal ; but I recollected in a moment that men are the most wicked and mischievous of all animals. I returned to the house of the mother of Mrs. Lillie. after having remained for about half an-hour in the cavern, and I recounted to her my distresses — that an opportunity, *he most favourable in the world, for crossing the Firth, and wliich had all the appearance of being successful, had failed me by the wickedness of Sabncn's wife, after my arrangements wore taken with her husband ; and I prayed hv;r with earnestness to ])rocure me some one who would pass me over at once, at whatever price it might be, I would not grudge the money. She immediately introduced into my chamber a man, without warning me otherwise than by telling mo that he was an Officer of the Customs in the service of King George. I be- lieved that her head was turned, or that she Avished to betray me ; but I was still more astonished and stupefied when s!ie L'^gan to relate to him that I v/as with Prince Edward. ''J""his man, i)erceiving my uneasiness, told me not to be alarmed, that he had been in the same case as myself in 1715 ; that, having lost his affects, he was reduced to the fatal necessity of gaining his bread to accept this vile em])loyment in the service of the usurper ; but that his attachment and good wishes for the welfare of the House of Stuart were always the same. Relieved of my alarms, I asked of liira if he could not recommend me to some honest man who Avould take me across the Firth, and that 1 would give him such remu- neration as he could wish. He replied that there was one named David Cousselnaine. sacrist of the assembly of non- jurors in the villager of Wemyss, a very honest man, and 74 very zealous to render service to all those who were of the party of Prince Edward, that I could not do better than address myself to him. He went out immediately to seek him, and returned in a moment with him. Cousselnaine said to me that he would take very willingly an oar, if he could find any other one that would join him ; and he proposed to conduct me to the house of Mr. Robertson, at the village of Dubbyside, which is half a-league from Wemyss, to borrow liis boat : he told me that Mr. Robertson was secretly on the side of the Prince, and that he would lend himself to all that I could desire. We parted instantly for Dubbyside, Cousselnaine pre- ceding me, as there were two bad villages in our way to cross ; in case any one should wish to examine me, I desired that they should call me John Cousselnaine, a handloom weaver, the name and trade of his brother, Avhom no one knew in these villages ; and if any one suspected m.e for a rebel, he should claim me and maintain against all that I was veritably his brother. I dreaded my new trade of wea- ver ! Being only a servant, it was easy to play the part as I had done in the service of Mrs. Menzies and Samuel ; but if any one should arrest me on suspicion, and sliould want to try me to work at my trade, I should be discovered immedia- tely, and lost without resource. In the meantime, there was no trade that suited me better on this occasion. Mr. Robert- son laughingly said that he would not lend me his boat, but that he would permit, with all his heart, Cousselnaine to un- loose her whenever I should find any one to assist me in cros- sing the Firth ; for as to him he did not knwvv a single person at Dubbyside whom thev could trust. He advised me to go and see M. Seton, a gentleman staying at Dubbyside, who had his oldest son in our army. I did not know the father, but I had contracted a friendsliip with the son. I was ignorant that his paternal house was at Dubbyside, and was charmed at the discovery. 75 Having found M. Seton at home, I told him my name, and renewed my friendship with his son. He made me enter on the instant into the puhlic hall, where he tortured me to death by a thousand questions of which I understood nothing, and by incoherent proposals, receiving me very coldly, with- out my being able to di\lne the cause. After keeping me impatient during half an hour, all at once his son entered the saloon, and leapt upon my neck to embrace me. He told me that they had taken me for a spy sent to their house to take him prisoner ; and although he had, for half au-hour that he had scrutinized me through a hole across the partition of the room, it was only that instant that he had been able to recog- nize me in my disguise. I was very glad to see Seton again, the more so that I was ignorant of his fate since the Battle of Culloden ; and the pleasure of our meeting was reciprocal. There is always friendship between persons engaged in the same misfortunes. He invited me to stay with him at his father's, and his offer gave me pleasure, as I was likely at Dubbyside to find an opportunity of crossing the Firth. I went a little after mid-day to Wemyss, promising myself to see the mother of Mrs. Lillie, always hoping that she would discover some one sutFicieutly humane to join himself to Con- selnaine ; but after a sojourn of eight days at the house of my fricud, without being more advanced than the first day of my arrival there, we had a sharp alarm, which interrupted the pleasures which I was beginning to taste in the society of the very amiable family of M. Seton. Miss Seton having asked at a fishwife while she was selling her fish at the door of the house if she had any news, the fishwomau answered her, hat it Avas reported among other thi ' .• • * a rebel was prowling about every day along the coast ' . • .lo the village of Wemyss, and that he offered lots of money to the fishers to give him a passage across : she added that they would be able very easily to lay hold of him some day in his courses. One may imagine how much I was annoyed at this news, 76 more especially when tlicy might have been able to have fol- loAvcd mc to the house of M. Seton without my being able to have perceived tliem. As there was everything to fear that the house of M. Seton might be visited at the next moment, Seton, my companion in misfortune, decided himself to quit the house of his father the same evening, to take refuge at the house of some friend, and I myself also to return to Lillic's ; but I was determined to make a final effort before quitting Dubbyside, to cross the Firth that night. I sent to seek out Cousselnaine, who came to me immediately and told me that, in spite of all the persuasions possible, he was unable to find any person who would undertake it. What a deplor- able situation ! To be so near Edinburgh, Avhere centred all my wishes of being able to get there, bu_ upon the point of being obliged to remove myself farther, to bury myself in the fields, abandoning the hope of passing so soon the Firth. The reflection of retreating, in place of advancing, agitated my mind cruelly, and plunged me into an unsupportable chagrin. M. Seton, the younger brother of my friend, a young man of eighteen years, who had made several voyages to sea, see- ing my distress and touched with my situation, offered gene- rously to take an oar with Cousselnaine to cross the Firth, which from Dubbyside to Leith is about three leagues broad. I received the obliging offer with thanks, and in the mean- time with the good intention of profiting by it, my position excluding ceremonies, all his family set themselves imme- diately after him to fortify his good and generous resolution, and we agreed to depart about nine o'clock in the evening. All seemed to bid fair, and the passage of the Firth, which had cost me pains and sighs, then appeared to me certain. How fortune sports itself continually by throwing obstacles in the way of it! The noise which Seton and Cousselnaine made by launching the boat into the water, alarmed the inhabitants of the village who were not yet gone to bed. The .•*.'rf.-.. vv see- I I f cry spread amongst them immediately tliat it was a rebel who wished to save himself, and Seton and Coiisselnaine wcie very very fortunate to escape the hubbub, without being known. I was furious on understanding this vexatious mishap. I durst say nothing to Seton, as it was by an effort of goodness on his part that he had moved in my favour, but I redoubled all my rage on Cousselnaine. I reproached him sharply for his folly and stupidity in having made a noise in launching the boat into tic water, and I scolded him like a nigger. In the meantime, notwithstr.jiding this unlucky occurrence, I was <iuite decided to continue my enterprise, determined to be present to command myself the manoeuvre, and by a fortu- nate stubborness, the more they represented to me tlie ob- stacles for that evening, the more determined I was to make another attem])t. M. Seton and all his family entreated me with chisped hands to defer it till next day, alleging that the in- habitants being alarmed would be on the watch all the night and that it was morally impossible it could succeed. I replied that it was ".seless to speak to mo of it, ray resolution being taken most decidedly. The more certainly that I might take the passage this night, 1 embarked along Avith an oar in each liand, committing myself thus to Providence, and I would undertake ic however extravagant was the prospect, so much was I intent on leaving, provoked at not having been able to llnd one single honest man among the iishers to join Coussel- naine to save my life, and Avithout any prospect of succeeding better in it in the end. An unshaken firmness in my resolutions was always very useful to me. I made many reflections before determining on the course I should choose, examining impartially the pi'on and co}is of all that ought naturally to result from them, but once decided no person was ever able to make me waver in my resolutions, even in those cases in Avhich there Avas no other alternative but either to succeed or perish, and al- though every one should be against my opinion, iu Avhich I 78 always was well founded. Obstinacy becomes a fault in general of character, notwithstanding every one's right to comprehend his own affairs better than any one else, and being the principal interested, the mind works and exercises itself to most advantage to discover tlie resources, thus if one is endowed with good sense and discernment one conducts his own affairs liimself better tlian by the counsels of others, who do not avail themselves of their doubts which render us wavering in our opinions, and make us often deviate from the right. I warned Coussclnaine to hold himself ready by ten o'clock, Avishing still to make an attempt,* and I gave him some money to buy refreshments of which he would have need in crossing. Coussclnaine returned at the exact hour, but so intoxi- cated, that with difficulty was he able to hold his feet, having well employed an hour all the more that he was absent. Everything was against me. I swore, I blustered, but I gained nothing by it, I replied to all the repeated solici- tations that they made me to desist, that Coussclnaine being necessary to bring back the boat, he should sleep, and so con- duct himself during the crossing, while that I sailed with M. Seton, and that that would be all the inconvenience ; that I should depart that night most decidedly. I took Cousscl- naine on my back and laid him down all his length in the bottom of the boat ; I launched the boat into the vater with the assistance of M. Seton without making any noise, and at length, each taking an oar, we set ourselves to row with all our strength. As soon as we were distant about fifty paces from * It fares better that one is quick and precipitate than frif^htencd ; for fortune is a lady, says INIachiaveli, whom one ought to brand and keep in subjection ; and it is seen every day thah she allows herself to bo governed by those wlio arc (luicl^ and assiduous rather than by those who aro cold and phlegmatic in their movements ; therefore, as a lady, she is always loved by those who aro young ; because, being less circumspect, they attack her with more safety and boldness. Chapter xxv., imrje 231, Edition dc Londres, en Avjtais. 79 the land, not to be more plagued by the inhabitants, I began then to breathe, and feel my heart rebound as if it had been relieved of a great burden. There arose an east wind which agitated the sea greatly, and our little boat danced horribly. Seton was in great terror, and it was well-founded, for a wave breaking over the boat would have filled it with water sufficient to cause it to sink to the bottom. I always encouraged him ; though in any other situation I would have been as much in terror as he was, as we were at every billow in the greatest danger of being engnlphed. But I then feared nothing but the scaf- fold, and any other peril could not make upon me a strong impression. "We were still in danger, to encounter besides the wind and the waves, the drunken CoUi^selnaine extended in the bottom of the boat, wishing at every moment to rise, wanting to return ; and we were obliged, to make him remain quiet, to tie his feet together, and to threaten to throw him into the sea at the least movement he should make further, the only means to make him understand reason. Seton and I having rowed like galley slaves, we landed ]ia})pily on a coast toAvards six o'clock in the morning, a league and a half east from Edinbui-gh. The Firth widening in proportion as you advance to the cast, the passage whicli we made was from four to five leagues. I embraced tenderly the young Seton, and thanked him heartily for the essential services which he had rendered me ; and I gave to Coussclnaiue, who began somewhat to come to himself, a gratification much beyond his expectations. They re-embarked immediately to return to Dubbyside, while I quickly hastened at a distance from the sea-shore, fearing that some countryman might sec me set foot on laiul. I do not believe that any one could enjoy a more perfect felicity than that which I experienced on my landing, having then surmounted the jnost formidable obstacles to my escape ; above all, the passage i>f both arms of the sea, whicli had cost me so many pains, anxieties, and 80 »g» to be able to cloar them by the crosses which I there continually encountered. Actually I found myself within reach of succour, and the aid of my parents and friends. Notwithstanding, it was not without many pains and dilfi- culties that I had arrived at that goal. I had my hands almost in the stnwe state as were my feet ton days before, bleeding much, and prodigiously inflamed ; but I consoled myself easily to be for some time disabled in my hands, not having so much use for them then as for my feet, which began to be pretty well restored. Having landed at a place within gunsliot of the field of battle of Gladsmuir, (Preston- pans), where we gained that brilliant victory over the English army, and not daring to ai)proach Edinburgh till towards nightfall, I determined to pass the Avholc interval upon the field of battle, in order to tranciuilise iny mind, and soften a little the rigours of our lot by rellections on the past. One enjoys agreeable objects ; the sorrowful ai'e to be reflected on, the happy man reasons little. It is only him that suffers who meditates to find at least useful recollections in the evils wliicli surroiuul liiin. Misfortune, the great master of men, renders them moi-e prudent and wiser. Adversity chills the spirit ; the repeated shocks of misfortune oblige even frivolity to reflect. Travelling the Avhole day on the field of battle, this ])lace presented to me a very striking exam})le of the vicissitudes of fortune to which human nature Is liable ; and I compared my situation then, in tliat glorious campaign — executing the functions of aide-de-camp to the Prince, carry- ing through all his orders, charged Avith three Innidred English prisoners, — Avith my condition since, covered with rags to save me from the scaffold ; overwhelmed AvIth pains and misery ; happy only in the hope of escaping into some foreign country, abandoning for ever my native land, my friends, and my parents ; uncertain in Avhat State I niiglit find an asylum, or Avhere I nnght obtain the means of subsis- tence. AVhat a different lot ! I thought that Providence had 81 bsis- luid I led mc to land upou the fields of Gbdsmuir (Prcstonpaus), having been driven to the east by the ebbing tide, ratlier tlian in the ueighbouriiood of Leith, where we had the intention of landing, in order to impress vividly on my mind lessons which Avould never be effaced. How I desired to see at that moment some of the favourites of tlie Prince, whose distin- guished favour had rendered them insolent, proud, and im- pertinent ! I imagined I saw those vile, low, and faAvning reptiles in the charge of our affairs. I have seen them since, and I was not deceived in my conjectures of them, finding them such as I had believed.* How important it is for man through the instability of fortune to preserve an equal char- acter ; not to be elated in prosperity, and always to conduct himself with modesty and humility are the sure means not to be cast aown, nor to become mean in adversity. Pride and vanity indicate infallibly a littleness of soul, never failing in the reverses of fortune to degenerate into outrageous mean- ness ; but a modest man, mild, honest, and well-doing, will never be in that situation, whatever revulsion is possible to occur in his fortune ; and from whatever elevation from which he may fall, his fall will be liglitened by the esteem and general regret of people of sensibility ; and having the * Ti we n^flcct upon the miscrcaMo state of man, it appears to me that we shall know little that he has of which to be proud and insolent. "Not to make mention," says Wollaston, "of evils, hunger, thirst, heat, cold, the indis- positions to which the constitutions of the universe renders us subject, one generation falls as a dead leaf, another remains to fa,ll in the same manner, and to bo for ever forgotten. As we issue forth from the midst of the griefs of our mothers, we are immediately after hunted by those of our own. In- fancy and youth glide away in insonsibilitj% in trifles, and in vanity or in ignorance. If a man arrives at last to old age, over a thousand cares, a thousand fatigiies, and a thousand different adventures, he then feels that all his inconveniences are augmented, and he finds himself less able to sup- port them, &c. In the meantime his wants and infirmities rush in crowds, and under this new;.^jumulation ho becomes melancholy, blind, tottc.ing, bowed down till from this he makes in the end some false steps, which sends him to the tomb, where he remains insensible to decay and weakness." — Outline of Natural Bcligion, Edition in 4fo, Page 344. F 82 public voice in his favour, lie is liappy, lie sees the whole world rejoicing in his good fortune, and in his misfortune every one running to solace him ; and disgrace is honour- able for him who brings along with him the regrets of a nation whom he has faithfully served. Moderation of con- duct is a virtue which has its source in tranquillity of mind. AVhen one represses the fierceness of the passions, when one accustoms one's self to look in the face coolly all the accidents of life, when one keeps one's self always on his guard against every troublesome impression, when he gives himself leisure to weigh everything, to balance everything, he will enjoy that traiKiuillity of mind of which moderation in all things will be the fruit. A man of true merit will see with the same eyes his rise and his fall, immovable in adversity as a rock battered by all the fury of the waves in a tempest. In perambulating these places, I recalled at every step all the particulars of the battle ; and Avhen I found myself at the place where I had seen three hundred English soldiers pri- soners, guarded by twenty-four Highlanders, I sat myself down to dine upon my bread and cheese, with a bottle of Madeira wine which M. Seton had made me accept of at parting. The remembrance of the glorious and inconceivable victory we had gained on those fields added once more to the extreme pleasure which I felt at having passed the Firth. As I feared to be recognized if I went straight to Edinburgli, I decided to seek a refuge at Leith, at the house of my old governess, Madame Blythe, who was for twenty-three years in my mother's service, and charged particularly with the care of me — having taken the oflice of my nurse from the age of one year. The troubles and the chagrin which I had Qont'-i'illy occasioned her, as much by the dangerous dis- e ith which my childliood was overwhelmed, as by the h. ^ passionate, and thoughtless character which an only son is prone to display, served only to call forth more of her tenderness and affection for me ; as much as if I had 83 urgii, ly old years the the I had dis- )y the only ire of had hoen her own child. M. Blythe, captain of a small smii;;- «>;Hng vessel, Avho was very rich, found her all to his taste at fifty years of age. Ho ])roposed marriage to her, and the proposal was too advantageous for Margaret to waver at his l)ropoBition. It was three years since she had gone to live at Leith with her husband, and they lived together in much harmony, lilytho Avas a Calvinist, an outrageous enemy to the House of Stuart, but too honest a man to have anything to fear at his horse, so I quitted the field of Gladsmuir (Pi'eston])ans), before the sun went down, to arrive at his house before the night should close in. On entering the house of Madame Blythe, I believed that this good woman would have smothered me with caresses. She lea}»t u])on my neck, took me in her arms, and shed a torrent of tears of joy. As no one of my family knew that I was arrived, or whether I was dead or alive, or killed at the Battle of Culloden — my brother-in-law, Rollo, having kept them in ignorance that he had seen me at Banff — as soon as the first transports of this good woman were past, I besoeched her most instantly to go quickly to Edinburgh to inform my father and mother that I was in her house in perfect health. I had as much impatience to give them my news, as Madame Blythe would have to relieve their anxieties and pains by their knowledge that I was safe. During her absence, M. Blythe showed me all the concealments which he had caused to be made in the partition of his chamber for putting there in his contraband goods which he obtained in his voyages to distant countries; "in short," he said to me, "to put you in there in case of a surprise, and when any one comes to search my house." I answered him that I was become the most contra- batid and the most dangerous goods he had ever had in his house, and that these concealments might very well not be anv lonircr useless, although he had reckoned for a lonji; time not to have any more need of them. My impatience to give my father my news had made me w ^^ Si. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) / o y '^i J .'<- «?. ^ Sfp Qr a- /M/ % 1.0 I.I IIIM IIIH ilM IIIII2.2 ilM 12.0 1.8 1.25 1.4 16 ^ f,' — i i i *■# c^^ ""* S' o / //i '/W Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY. 14580 (716) 872-4503 I W3 /#-. &P/ ^ 84 forget to tell Madame Blythe to bring me clothes ; but I had the joy and satisfaction of seeing her return, to find that she was charged with all that was necessary for me. In fact it was time to lay aside my tatterdemalions ; for, besides other inconveniences that I sustained from my disguise, I perceived that these habits had given me torture. But as that vile disease had not made further progress, I was relieved of it at the end of twenty-four hours, by rubbing all my body with fresh butter and brimstone, and taking flowers of sulphur inwardly. These beggarly garments had been very useful to me for about six weoks that I had worn them : in the mean- time I had an inconceivable pleasure in discarding them, and at not being obliged any longer to disguise myself in rags. My father sent me word that he would come the next morn- ing to pass the day with me. Although 1 desired earnestly to embrace my father, not having seen him since the month of October that our army left Edinburf 'i to enter England, I dreaded, nevertheless, his presence, on account of the reproaches which he might make me on account of having joined Prince Edward without his consent, and for being involved by my own fault in the miser- able plight into which I was plunged. As soon as it was known at Edinburgh that the Prince had landed in the High- lands of Scotland, impressed with having the merit of being among the first that should place themselves under his orders, and who should attach their fortunes to his, I beseeched him with clasped hands to grant me permission to depart im- mediately to join him. But, far from agreeing to it, he ordered me expressly not to think of it, telling me that it would be time enough to join the Prince when he should be in possession of Edinburgh ; that not being able to procure passports, his principles and attachment to the House of Stuart being known to all the world, I would expose myself to be arrested on presenting myself to cross the Firth, and be kept in prison during the whole expedition of the Prince. It 85 was without effect that I represented to him that the Prince woukl regard me more favourably by attaching myself to his lot at the commencement of his enterprise, not having more than some hundred men in his suite, than when these formid- able obstacles were past, and not having more to do but be crowned when he should be in possession of the capital of his ancient kingdom of Scotland. In effect, I looked him in the face as to this, but I was grossly deceived. My father would not allow himself to bend, and in the end imposed silence upon me. Burning with desire to depart, I went next day to dinner at my Lady Jean Douglas's, sister to the Duke of Douglas, who had alwayo been my protectress in my infancy, expressly for the purpose of recounting to her my grievances, and tlie conversation which I had had with my father. This worthy lady approved of my reasons, counselling that I should depart immediately without consulting my father '.my more, and undertaking to appease him in case he should be in a rage at ray disobedience. This was all that I could de- sire, entirely conforming to my wishes, and I went oft' next day in the morning without saying anything to any one. I found no diflicidty in passing the Firth between Quecnsferry and Dunfermline ; having put a black cockade in my hat, I entered briskly into the wherr}', with an air of authority, saying to those who examined the passports that I was an officer of the Regiment of Lee, then in quarters at Edinburgh, and that officers had no need of passports. On leaving the boat I took the road to the castle of my Lord Rollo, where I remained for two days, waiting his arrival from Perth, which is twelve miles from it. When I reappeared at Edinburgh, some time after with o\ir army, my father said nothing to me for having departed without his consent, but then we were victorious and triumphant ! Presently all had changed face, and those who had loaded m with praises in our prosperity treated us in our disasters as rash young men. It is the cus- tom of the greatest part of the world not to judge of things 86 but by their success. If we luid been successful In placing the croAvn on the head of Prince Edward, as there was even a great probability during some time of doing so, by conduct- ing ourselves well after our victories, we would have all been celebrated in heroics. The loss of the Battle of Culloden, which ended the dispute between the Houses of Stuart and Hanover, rendered us immediately rebels and fools in the eyes of those who do not reflect, of which, unfortunately, that is the majority. My father came, but the good old man in place of abusing me was so much affected by seeing me again that the tears rushed at once into his eyes, and clasping me in his arms, he was some time without being able to speak. As soon as we both were somewhat composed after this scene of mutual ten- derness, I amusea him with a recital of all the particulars of our expedition since our departure from Edinburgh to enter England, and of all that had happened to myself personally since the Battle of Culloden. He kept me company till nine o'clock at night, and the time passed as if it had been lightning. I was penetrated with affliction on learning that my mother was very unwell, and that she had kept her chamber for a long time ; and I was still more so when Madame Blythe told me that it was anxiety on my account which was the cause of her illness, and that the physicians considered her in danger. My grief was deep and natiu'al ! She had ahvays adored me vntli the affection of the most tender of mothers. I proposed to my father many plans for going to see her, but he forbade me to think of it, telling me that I ran the risk of being recognised, and that if, unfortunately, they sliould make me a prisoner, I should cause them both to die of grief ; so I did not insist further at that time. What a cruel situation ! — to be so near my mother whom I had cause to love most tenderly, and not to have it in my power to embrace her ! Leith , which is a mile from Edinburgh, being then full of 87 { troops of the Hessians and English Regiments who waited there to embark on their return to Fhinders, two English. Serjeants came to the house of M. Blythe with billets for lodgings. This was a most teiTible disarrangement for me ! Meantime, M. Blythe fortunately found means to exempt us, and they went off. During an hour that these serjeauts re- mained in the house to battle with Blythe to lodge them there, I was acting as sentinel to observe them through a hole which I had pierced across the partition which divided the rooms, with the door of the hiding place open, to allow me to rush into it, in case that I should see that it was their design to search the house for rebels. I perceived poor Madamo Blythe changing colour at every instant, trembling as in a fever, and I feared greatly that her anxieties might create suspicion to the serjeauts that she had some rebel concealed in her house, but I was relieved from fear. They came to inform me that Lady Jean Douglas was coming to see me incognito the next day after mid-day, ac- companied by M. Stuart, her husband, who was in her suite, and another lady of my family.* This worthy and virtuous * M. the Duke of Douglas, brother of my Lady Joan Douglas, is one of the most ancient and illustrious liouses of Europe, and who have disputed during many ages the Crown of Scotland against the House of Stuart. John Baliol had two daughters, the eldest of whom was married to the Earl of Douglas, and the other to Robert the Bruce, one of the greatest men that Scotland ever produced, and who delivered his country when the English had almost entirely made a conquest of that kingdom. Eobert the Bruce succeeded to the Crown of Scotland at the death of John Baliol, in pre- ference to the House of Douglas, one docs not know why, and he had only one daughter, who was married to the Steward of Scotland, which signifies, in the Scottish language, Stuart, who succeeded by his wife to the kingdom of Robert de Bruce. The House of Stuart was but little known in the History of Scotland previously to this epoch, which saw them all at onco sovereigns. The House of Douglas always disputed their right to the throne, and William tho Eighth Earl of Douglas, having more than half the kingdom on his side by a confederation which he had formed against James II., this King demanded an interview with him- in tbe Castle of Stirling, and sent Earl Douglas a safe conduct. The Earl, too credulous, confiding in the promises of the ICing, and under the safe conduct which he had 88 lady, Lady Jean Douglas, was the idol of licr country, endowed with all the good and amiable qualities that could adorn her sex. She was loved, respected, and adored by all that had the advantage of knowing her, and was equally so by the received from James II., passed and sealed by the great Seals of the Realm, exposed himself by going to visit the King in the Castle of Stirling, where ho then resided. The king having pressed the Earl of Douglas to break the bond without his being willing to consent to it, drew his poinard and said to him, " If you do not choose to do it, this shall break it," plung- ing at the same time his dagger into the heart of the Earl of Douglas. The vassals of the Earl running to arms, and dragging at the tail of a horse, the safe conduct which the King had given him and violated, they burned the town of Stirling, and threatened to besiege the Castle where the King was. The King and the new Earl of Douglas encountered each other at Aberdoen at the head of their armies ; this Earl of Douglas having a greatly superior ai'my in number and valour to that of the King. "Thus," saya Robertson in his history of Maiy Stuart, from which I take this note, "one single battle ought to have decided whether the otuarts or the Douglasses should possess the Crown of Scotland ; but while the troops of the Earl of Douglas waited with impatience the signal t^ engage, the Earl ordered them to retreat. The army of the Earl of Douglas dispersed themselves that night. Convinced of his want of skill to profit by an opportunity, or his want of coiirago to seize "a Crown, the Earl, despised by everybody, was chased out of the kingdom, and this House, which had been so long the rival and terror of the Crown, strengthened for some time the King. " The Duke of Douglas and Lady Jean Douglas were the descendants of John Baliol by his daughter. The archives of this illustrious house prove their descent from Sholto Douglas, the founder of that house, who received from Solvothius, King o^' Scotland, in 770 the Earldom of Douglas, in recompense for his valour and his success in the war which Solvothius had to wage against Donald, King of the Isles. I have some drops of Royal blood in my veins through the House of Douglas, my grandmother having been the daughter by lawful wedlock of Douglas, Baron of Whittingome, a branch of the House of the Duke of Douglas ; and since that the branch of Whittingeme is stinmg from the House of Douglas, one of the ancestors of my grand-uncle, Doviglas of Whit- tingeme, was married to Annabel Stuart, sister of James T., King of Scot- land ; and my grandmother was descended from that Annabel Stuart by lawful wedlock. My father gave me, when parting, a genealogy of this family, which was taken from the Registers of Scotland, and signed bj^ the Chancellor for my grand-uncle, William, Baron of Whittingeme, Lieutenant- General in the -service of Gusta'V'us Adolphus, which I have still presex'ved. 89 public, who tlid not know her bnt as one of the finest characters and good reputations that ever a woman possessed. SIic liad been in her youth very beautiful, and she still was so at forty- five year-^ of age, concealing at least five years of her age by the uniform, temperate, regular, frugal, and simple life she had always led. She was virtuous, pious, devout, charitable, with- out ostentation ; and her devotion never was affected nor obtrusive ; her affability, her easy politeness, her goodness, her engaging, genteel, and prepossessing manners, effaced in an instant the embarrassment of those who paid their court to her, whom her air, full of grace and dignity, had affected and rendered timid. She had a mind much adorned Avith litera- ture, loved reading with a decided taste, having a greai me- mory, much good sense and spirit, a soimd judgment, and a nice discernment, quick and solid. Her library was full of all the best authors. You would not see in it the trash of romances with which the libraries of females are ordinarily filled. She had a soul elevated and noble, lofty and deter- mined on occasions when it was proper to be so, and sup- porting the dignity of her illustrious birth without prido, without vanity, but in a miinner truly great.* The Duke of Douglas, her brother, was lunatic from his infancy, often committing acts of folly the most terrible. He killed his stepfather, M. Kcr, without having ever had any quarrel or altercation with him, by passing his sword through * Tho Duke of Douglas, in a rage against my Lady Jean Douglas for having maiTicd, in 1746, Mr. Stuart, a plain gentleman, refused to pay her tho interest of her patrimony, and reduced her thereby to the most dis- agreeable embarrassment. She returned from London in 1752, and having caused herself to be presented to King George, she did not humble herself to demand from him a pension. She told him "that her brother having stopped payment of the interest of her fortune, which was in his hands, His Majesty, knowing the family, had certainly too much spirit ?nd good sense not to know what was duo to a person of her birth. " The King upon the instant caused without delay a considerable pension to be conferred upon my Lady Jean, though ho knew that she had been to visit Prince Edward in his Palace at Edinburtrh ■ 90 his body while he -was sleeping ; and my Lady Jean having often escaped being assassinated in these moments of lunacy, the Marquis of Lothian, their uncle, wished to have him de- clared legally lunatic, and to put my Lady Jean in possession of the whole income of liis estate, which amounted to four hun- dred thousand pounds of rent. There would not have been the least difficulty in doing so, the lunacy of the Duke having been known to all the v^orld by the melauchol} [)roofs he had given of it daily ; but my Lady Jean would not for a moment hear it spoken of, loving rather to live retired upon seven or eight thousand a year, an income very small for her rank, and who had the interest of her fortune placed in a fund lost in the hands of her brother, rather than dishonour him, as well as his House. If ever virtue was persecuted without ceasing by Providence, it was in the person of my Lady Jean Douglas, the most worthy of her sex, adorable for her eminent qualities and the most perfect modesty to bo imitated, whose vexation at the persecutions of her brother, joined to the death of her eldest son, whom she loved tenderly, shortened her days at London, Avhere she died in 175(G), a little time before the death of the Duke, her brother, and at the moment when she would have become the heiress of and enjoyed four hundred thousand pounds a year. I do not exaggerate her character.* All those * So many references have been made by the Chevalier in these Memoirs to the Lady Jean Douglas, that it may bo interestiiit^ to my readers to know somotliing of her personal history, and I happily have it in my power to gratify this desire by the following extract from the Red- Book of Grandtully, in two volumes, by William Frascr, Esq., Edinburgh, noticed in the Scotsman, June, 1870. LADY JEAN DOUGLAS. The story of Lady Jean Douglas forms an interesting episode in the history of the Stuarts of Murthly. Her marriage with Colonel Stuart, afterwards head of the House, took place privately in Edinburgh in 1746 — the Colonel at that time being fifty, and Lady Jean forty-eight years of age. The marriage was kept secret till after the birth of twin sons, in 1748, when it was intimated to Lady Jean's brother, the Duke of Douglas. The Duke was persuaded that the twins wore suppositions, and neither the 91 who had the happiness of knowing her and her misfortune regretted her death, said a thousand times more witliout being able to paint the rare merit of this adorable lady, as illustrious as unfortunate, who merited a bc-tter fate, and who was taken from this world at a moment when she was on the eve of a condition the most hapi)y, by the death of her brother. What a mystery of Providence, diiricult to comprehend ! One might often say with Brutus, "0 virtue! I have always adored thee as a true good, but I find thee only a vain shadoAV." Virtue earnest appeals of his sister, nor the influence of the Earl of Crawford, and other of their common friends, could shake his opinion. Ho withdrew all support from his sister, her husband was thrown into jail by his creditors, and she and her children were only saved from starvation by a small pension granted her by the King (George II). Lady Joan received a severe shock from the death of one of her sons in U'jS ; and already worn out by the anxiety caused by pecuniary embarrassments, and distress at the scan- dalous imijutations cast upon her character by her brother, sank into her grave a few months after. Her old servant and attached friend declared that she died rf a broken heart, and nothing else. Tlie Duke of Dofiglas, after her death, saw reason to repent his judgment, and in 1761 executed an entail of his whole estate in favour of himself and the heirs whomsoever of his body, whom failing the heirs whomsoever of his father. Upon his death, Archibald Stuart, the only surviving son of Lady Joan, was served heir of entail to his uncle, and shortly after obtained a charter from the Crown, of the estates of Douglas, as heir to his uncle, the Duke of Douglas. The Duke of Hamilton, who was the nearest heir male of the Duke of Douglas, brought action of Reduction of the Sen- ice of Archibald Stuart, and the " Great Douglas Cause," after occupying the Court of Session for several years, was finally decided by it adversely to Stuart. Nothing daunted, Stuart carried the case to the House of Lords, where he ol)tained a reversal of the decision of the Court below, and had the satisfaction of not only clearing his mother's name from all suspicion, but of accjuiring one of the finest properties in Scotland. Mr. Fi-aser gives a very interesting account of the life of Lady Jean, and the subsequent proceedings of her son, which, if space allowed, would well repay a minute examination. A curious corroboration of the parentage of Archibald Stuart-Douglas was his likeness to the Portrait of "Old Grandtully, " which Mr. Fraser says made a great impression on the present proprietor when first introduced tc him. So warmly was the case of Lady Jean Douglas's son taken up by the public that on the news of his success arriving in Edinburgh "The Inhabitants spontaneously gave expression to their joy by a general illumination." ' 92 docs not afford to man a shelter from the scourges of nature or the injuries of fortune.* My Lady Jean Douglas came to see me, as she had sent me word, and she caused me recount to her all my adventures since the Battle of Culloden. "When I was at the commence- ment of my narration, which related to my sojourn at the house of Samuel, my dream immediately came into my memory, which I had almost forgot through the variety of events wliich had happened to me since my departure from Glenprosene ; and struck with the realization of this dream * Wollaston says—" Tho history of the human race is almost nothing else but a scries of sorrowful and frightful events, &c. Among the millions of men who have sutfered extremely, it is impossible to imagine that thei'o has not been a great number of soitows and sufferings that have not ex- ceeded the pleasures which they have enjoyed, without which they would not have been in a condition to evade by their iimocenco, by their prudence, or by any other means tho bitter draughts which they have been made to drink of to tho very dregs ; viz., that is to say, that tho innocent has tho portion wliich most properly belongs but to the criminal and unjust ; and those same share the lot which tho innocent naturally ought to have. This is one of the arguments in proof of the immortality of the Soul." — Outline of I^atural Jieligion, Edition in ito, pro. 8, page 344. It may be interesting also to know that the Portrait of Mary, Queen of Scots, engraved from an original painting in possession of the Grand- tully family, represents her in her widow's dress as Queen Dowager of France, holding in her right hand a Crown and in her left a Crucifix. We may also mention, as there stated, that tho ancestor of Colonel Stuart, who married Lady Jean Douglas, was Walter Fitzalan, the High Steward of Scotland, who married Marjory, daughter of King Robert Bruce, and on the death of her brother, ICing David 11., in 1370, her son obtained the Crown of Scotland and assumed the title of King Robert tho Second. The Stewards of Grandtully are descended from Alexander, High Steward of Scotland, fourth in descent from Walter, through his second son. Sir John Stuart of Bankill, whose grandson was tho first of the family who possessed Grandtully. He married the daughter of John de Ergadia, Lord of Lorn, and by her had several sons, the eldest of whom married in the Lorn family ; the second was ancestor of the Earls of Athole, Buchan, and Tra(]uair ; while the fourth, Alexander, was ancestor of tho Stuarts of Grandtully. (Alexander died about the year 1449). 93 from point to point, and in all its circumstances, I pnuscd for a moment in my narrative, confounded and stupefied and mute. I hesitated at first whether I should tell it to my Lady Jean, but it appeared to me so supernatural and incredible that I did not dare to make her privy to it, fearing that she might possibly imagine that I was inclined to impose upon her fictions, which I had no need to do to secure the goodwill of one who had honoured me with her kindness from my infancy. Besides, supposing that she shoidd not believe it, which was very probable, I thought that tlu would show a littleness of soul, endeavouring to catch her or turn her about ; so I resumed my narration. It is certain that this dream saved my life, by my advancing with obstinacy and determination to the south, in place of returning to the mountains with my comrades ; and I shah remember it as long as I shall live as a thing which I could not comprehend without the power of reasoning upon it, and which surpasses my imagination. This action of the mind during the time that the body is in a state of insensibility, as if dead, is of itself even inconceiv- able ; but when we talk in a dream, and when the actions in sleeping are more than realized in the event, and are verified to the letter, what can one think of it ? Can it proceed from a cause purely and simply natural ? The effect is positive, that my dream saved me from the scaffold — I being directed by the dream as if an angel had traced the route which I ought to follow, inspiring me with an assurance of arriving at Edin- burgh, contrary to good sense and the advice of every one, or of perishing. I have never even recoiled a pace, be it to re- turn to the house of M. Graham when the boatmen deserted me, be it to the house of Lillie when the opportunity by Sal- mon was not afforded, or the house of M. Seton. Precipitated by I do not know what impulse, without knowing whether it was for my destruction or for my safety, my mind is plunged into a labyrinth when I try to comprehend it — in so much the more as I had not thought of my Lady Jean Douglas on the 94 (lay wlien we took counsel at the house of Samuel — the unanimous result of which was to return to the Ilijijhlands ; nor for a long tiii»e before. I thought no more on going to bed than to obtain a sound sleep, and to arise at three o'clock in the morning to depart with my companions. It seemed to mo as if after my dream I was no longer a free agent, and my reflections all the journey on the difFic. ies and insur- mountable obstacles which surrounded me on the road to Edinburgh — served only the more strongly to confirm my resolution. Above all, supposing me to be arrived at Edin- burgh, could I ever hope there to see ray Lady Jean Douglas, and thtvt she would come and pay me a visit at the house of M. Ely the? The whole thing is altogether incompre- hensible.* * M. Voltairo says in regard to dreams, " but how is it, all tbe .senses being dormant in sleep, there is in it a medium which is alive ; how is it that your eyes seeing nothing, your oars hearing nothing, in the meantime you both SCO and hear in your dreams ? The dog is at the chase in a dream, &c. ; tho poet makes vei'scs in sleep ; the mathematician figures, &c. Aro those the sole organs of tho machine which act ? J:; it the pure soul which yielding to the empire of tho senses, rejoices in their bonds being at liberty ? If soul organs produce dreams of tho night, why do they not produce ideas of the day ? If the soul, pure and trancjuil in repose of the souses, acts by itself as the sole cause, the sole subject of all ideas which you have in sleep- ing, why is it that these ideas are always irregular, luireasonable, and in- coherent ? You must confess that all your ideas como to you in sleep with- out you and in spite of you. Your will has no part in them. It is then certain that you could think for seven or eight hours on end without having the least desire to think, and without e.ven being sure that you were think- ing. Ponder this, and endeavour to divine what it is that the animal is com- posed of. " But what could be more inconceivable a dream, accompanied with such a variety of circumstances, as mine was in the house of Samuel, and all the particulars of that dream verified to the letter two months afterwards. The human mind does not know how to penetrate through these clouds, which conceal all from weak mortals. Tho fact is true, and happened to me such as I have related it. Would one seek to apprehend the cause ; it is so en- shrouded, like millions of other causes of which we are unable to know tho effects ; and the mind is bewildered and plunged into an abyss without being able to arrive at anything, without being able to penetrate into tho mysteries of nature, where all is to us obscurity and uncertainty ; and ono loses one's self there in reflections. tl n 95 ;1— the ilmids ; to bed lock in 1 to me xnd my insur- •oad to rm my Lt Edin- )oiiglas, le house jompre- tlie souses how is it nieantimo 1 a dream, , &c. Aro Boul which Lt liberty ? duco ideas C3, acts by re in sleop- le, and in- sloep with- it is then out having vere think- nal is com- )anied with aniuol, and afterwards, auds, which me such as it is so en- ,o know tho ^rss without ,te into tho ,y ; and ono Having told my Lady Jcaii tlic adventure of the two ser- geants the day before, which had so much ahirmcd poor Madame Blythe, she replied that I was not safe at tho house of M. Blythe, and sho invited mo to come to stay at her house, where I Avould bo in more security, as no one dared lightly to visit her hotel on mere suspicion, bidding mo come to it that very evening towards six o'clock, and ordering me to keep on my tatterdemalions during the journey — her hotel being half a-lcague from Lcith to tho village of Drumsheugh, the disguise would be absolutely necessary, for fear of meeting any one of my acquaintances. I pleaded all that I could to be allowed to part with my habiliments, which particularly annoyed me. Meanwhile, not daring to say to my Lady Jean that they gave me uneasiness, I was still obliged to wear them to conform to her orders. I took all the precau- tions possible not to have in the long run this villainous dis- ease a second time, having put on two shirts, a waistcoat, and gloves. In spite of the horror I had of these habits, and which I would have given a great deal to see in flames before my Lady Jean came to sec me, they were the most precious that I had ever worn, having greatly contributed to tho saving of my life. I arrived at the door of the hotel of my Lady Jean towards one o'clock in the afternoon, which I found wide open, and the gardener who attended mo the sole domestic whom she had ventured to let into tho secret. He told me that my Lady had ordered him to conduct me into her apartment the moment I arrived, and before T changed my dress — she wishing to see me under my disguise. This was further an annoyance to me, for I feared to infest her chamber with a bad smell. Nevertheless, it was necessary that I should submit to it. I found jM. Stuart and a lady of my family at the house of my Lady Jean, who attended to see my metamorphosis ; they all found me quite unrecognis- able. My Lady told my vhat there was nothing Avanting for my adjustment bi^i to liavc my eyebrows blackened with ::m. 96 charcoal. I engaged in it immediately, and in reality this changed me again considerably. I took leave at midnight, and was conducted by the gardener to the chamber which was destined for me, where no person had been lodged for a long time before, and which was below the summer-house. I went to work immediately by taking off my tatterdemalions, habiliments which I begged the gardener to burn in the garden in order that I might never hear of them any more spoken of, and have nothing more to fear that it would be necessary for me to put them on again. No person in the house of my Lady Jean being aware of the secret except the gardener, at the same time that they all knew that nobody lodged in the chamber that I occi;pied, not to make any noise, which would have necessarily discovered me to the domestics, I was obliged not to put on my shoes till one o'clock in the morning, that they were in bed, and I then descended to the garden, where I walked till two o'clock in the morning. I soon accustomed myself to this sedentary and solitary life, seldom seeing anybody but the gardener, who brought me my food. Sometimes I had the felicity of going down to the apartment of my Lady Jean, where I generally found M. Stuart, to pass a couple of hours at night ; but this was rarely, on account of the embarrassment and difficulty of escaping all the domestics, above all her chamber- maid, Mrs. Ker, who my Lady did not wish should know the secret, and who came very inopportunely by curiosity to find out some mystery which she had often occasion to suspect in the house, but without knowing what to make of it. I immediately acquired a taste for reading, having had till then too much dissipation for me to apply myself to it, and my Lady gave me the best historical authors. Thus I passed all my time Avith a book continually in my hand, without feeling myself an instant alone ; and I would have consented to pass all my life in the same condition to have escaped the scaffold. The taste which I then acquired for 3 97 ' this aight, which for a bouse, aliens, in the f more »uld be vare of liey all ied, not covered lioes till , and I ) o'clock cdentary ardener, ilicity of where I night ; lent and lamber- Id know curiosity occasion to make iving had self to it, Thus I my hand, ould have n to have [[uired for reading has been very useful to me in the end, and a great resource against ennui in the countries where I dwelt many years in America, where society has not the same agreeable- uess as in Europe. A few days after I was installed in the House of my Lady Jean Douglas, I read in the Edinburgh Gazette " That the populace at Dubbyside had arrested and conducted to priso i one named David Coussclnaine, who with another certpia person who saved himself, had aided a rebel to effect his escape, and that they had burnt the boat which they had used for crossing the Frith." I was charmed that the poor, gener- ous Seton had had the good fortune to save himself. I felt the greatest regret possible that M. Robertson had lost his boat. But as to Coussclnaine (my hand not being yet whole), I could not lament so much his fate as I would have done had he remained sober ; for, but for his debauch, he would have been able to have returned i o Dubbyside at an earlier hour, and being in a condition to waken us, we woidd have made the passage in less time, and to all appearance he Avould have avoided being taken, being able to return before the inhabitants were up. I raved as any one who sought to save his life, knowing but little of the business, but with Coussclnaine we would have had more than double the speed. M. Seton, the elder, whom I met again at Paris in 1747, told me that Cousselaine was discharged from prison after some weeks, they not having been able to find any evidence against him; and in truth it would have been a great wrong to have condemned him for having saved a rebel, for the animal had no part in it, having done notliiug but sleep dur- ing the whole i)assage, while I was fatigued to death by the force of rowing, and lamed my hands so as not to be able to avail myself of them for some time. My Lady Jean Douglas and jny father gave me their ad- vice that I should go to London, not running the risk of being known in that great city, where an infinite number of 98 strangci*s arrive and depart every day, nor more than in the road going there when I should be distant ten leagues from Edinburgh. All was prepared for my departure, when we learnt that a squadron of the Duke D'Anville had left France, and that it was so formidable that Admiral Anson had not dared to attack it. Nobody in Scotland doubted at first that this squadron was destined to retrieve the affairs of Prince Edward, and the secret course which she took in departing confirmed everybody still more in this belief. It is not doubted that this squadron would have been able to effect a landing in Scotland without meeting there the slightest opposition, and in the face even of the English troops, who would not have dared to attack them ; and the troops which were on board would have been more than sufficient to have retrieved our affairs. The Scotch still concealed in the Highlands would have rushed like a hive of bees ; and many of the clans who had remained neutral, seeing that the Duke of Cumberland had ravaged and sacked their country, without distinction of friend or foe, the army of the Prince would have immediately been more than double the number in the time we were the most numerous ; our army never having exceeded eight thousand men. After having waited with extreme impatience the landing of this squadron in Scotland, which occupied the attention of every- body for many weeks, in the end an English barque dis- covered this squadron in a latitude Avhich left no doubt but that she was destined for America. The fate of this power- ful fleet Avas to perish on the coast of Acadia, without ever effecting an establishment, the object of that armament, at Chibouctou, a paltry town in a most wretched place, full of rocks and stones, which has been colonized since by tlie English under the name of Halifax. This immense arma- ment, which would have easily effected a revolutioii in Eng- land in tlie moment of the crisis when we were in Scotland, was reduced to nothing by tempests, by diseases, by ani- I 99 in mosities and disorders between the general officers of the sea and those of tlie land ; in fine, by a total mismanagement of conduct ; in so much that it is related in France, that very little of the wreck of this formidable squadron escaped, without having effected the projected establishment of Chibouctou, and that the expedition was the last attempt of the French maiine. It is a very bad policy — the menaces which they have used for an age against the English, with respect to the House of Stuart, and which could not last for ever. This has been used by so long a practice that the English are no more alarmed at it, and they will never take advantage of it, as they see to-day that France, with the best dispositions possible, is incapable of effecting anything in favour of the House of Stuart, by the destruction and transmigration of their Scotch partisans, and by the coldness of those of Eng- land, and of which we have seen proof in the last war — these pretended invasions not having anything of concert, have not hindered the English from following all their enterprises ; and they have not ansv;ercd any })urpose but to open their eyes to form and discipline a hundred thousand militia to guard their coasts from surprise. If France had been seriously disposed to establish the House of Stuart on the throne, she could have easily accomplished it during our expedition with only three or four thousand troops : and, moreover, with an ally which f^he would have had in Prince Edward, she would liave avoided those eternal wars with England, which would have never ha}>pened during the reign of the House of Stuart ; on the contrary, they would have seen Charles II. ally himself with France in making war on Holland, in spite of the good disposition which the English nation ^ad always entertained for that republic. The king of England had it in his power to make tliese alliances, to declare war or to avoid it whc^- ever he pleased, and he was always sure to have the majority of parliament. After a sojourn of two mouths, tranquilly and so philo- 100 phically, in the house of my Lady Jean Douglas, one of her servants, who returned from Edinburgh with provisions, re- counted in the kitchen to the other domestics, that while she was purchasing meat at the butcher's, the lackey of an Eng- lishman, an officer of the customs, whispered in her ear, " that he knew very well whom she had concealed in the house of her mistress. Lady Jean Douglas, and that they could easily go at the first moment to search her hotel." She added that she had contradicted loudly this calumny. In fact, she could very wall contradict it in good faith — there being no one but the gardener who knew that I was in the house; and he came up in an instant to acquaint my Lady Jean, who came on the spur of the moment into my chamber with M. Stuart, to consult upon that which was to be done, fearing that a de- tachment of troops might come in the course of the day to visit her hotel, and it was then but nine o'clock in the morning. I was penetrated with sorrow and vexation ; I trembled with fear, lest the extreme goodness of my Lady Jean in giving me an asylum at her house might involve her in a bad affair with the government ; and I would have rather had a thousand times more diotresses, and consequent troubles, than that should happen to her, she having taken me into her house as if it had been my own. I expressed to her my regrets for the risk I had exposed her to. She answered me with her usual vivacity and promptitude of manner, "My child, if there were no risk in it, you would be under no obligation for it." I could not depart by the hall door on account of the domestics, who would see me from the kitchen ; and having searched all the house without finding any place where I could conceal myself, as they were then making hay in a park belonging to my Lady Jean, M. Stuart proposed to me to conceal myself in a stack of hay. For this operation it becrme necessary to let a lackey into the secret, in order to remain a sentinel on the other domestics, and for us to em- ! 101 ; of her ions, re- rhile she an Eng- ir, "that house of Id easily ded that he could » one but ; and he ;^ho came [. Stuart, hat a de- le day to i in the trembled Jean in in a bad er had a 3les, than ler house egrets for with her child, if nation for nt of the d having where I hay in a ied to me )eration it order to us to em- \ brace a favourable moment to depart from the house to enter the park. I departed in a jacket with the lackey and gardener, and foUowefl by M. Stuart. As there had to be a great many precautious to take on account of some windows in the village which overlooked the park, we commenced to make all the rolls of hay, one after the other ; then the lackey and the gardener threw themselves, one after the other, on the hay — heaping it upon that which wa? on the ground. This feint having lasted some minutes, I threw myself at full leiigth as if in continuation of tlie same sport,, and they threw over me the hay till that stack in which I was concealed was built of the same height as the others, leaving therein only a small open- ing for me to breathe by ; and they handed to me a bottle of water, and another of wine, then they retired. I did not believe that it was possible to suffer more than I had done throughout the day. It was very fine weather, but very hot ; and the excessive heat in the stack made me almost lose my breath, being as in an oven, ready at every moment to be suffocated. M. Stuart came to see me from time to time to console me, preaching patience to me. I had veritably need ; and there Averc moments that I suffered so cruelly that I was tempted to throw the hay to the devil, and expose myself rather to all that could happen ; but considera- tions alone for my Lady .lean Douglas restrained me. After the most terrible sufferings from ten o'clock in the morning till nine at night, ahvays in the same attitude, without the power to stir, and ])Ouring in sweat, they came at last to relieve me at night-fall. When I came out of the stack of hay, I felt my body bruised, and was so weak from the perspiration that it was with difficulty that 1 could walk, by leaning on the arm of M. Stuart. Scarcely could I support myself on my legs. I was enraged at having passed so ter- rible and cruel a time to no purpose — nobody having come to visit the house. I was always of opinion that they durst not 102 do so upon such an ill-founded information, and they could have had none certain and positive hut through the gardener, whose fidelity my Lady Jean had known for the long time that she had had him in her employment. In the certainty that the squadron of the Duke d' Anville was not destined for Scotland, my hopes of re-establishing our affairs vanished into smoke ; and my sufferings during all the time of my being in the stack of hay quite determined me to depart for London sooner ; and my departure being fixed for the next day, M. Colville, man of business of my Lady Jean, brought me next day for my journey on the road a very fine nag, very much to be relied on. I beseeched my Lady Jean very earnestly to exempt me from a second penance in the stack of hay any time that I should have the honour of again staying at her house, adding that I would have stood as a sentinel at the windows of my chamber from morning till evening, with my eyes constantly fixed on the door of the court ; and as soon as I should have seen a detachment enter, if they had had the boldness to come into it, I should have jumped from one of the windows of the first floor to the garden, and straightway passing over the wall of the garden, should have been in the open fields, and under shelter from their pursuit. This dear and amiable lady lamented my sufferings in the stack of hay, but at the same time burst out into a great roar of laughter, seeing the terrible panic I was in for fear of returning into it, and she dispensed with it. It is true that I had had a rough proof of this terrible piniishraent. My father came to bid me an eternal adieu, and remained with me till after mid-day. I was vividly overwhelmed with melancholy and affliction at the approach of a separation for ever. I insisted greatly with him, as well as with my Lady Jean Douglas, to permit me to go for an instant to Edin- burgh in order to embrace, for the last time, the most tender of mothers, in her bed-ridden dangerous disease ; but they would not consent to it, seeing the danger to which I would expose 103 could •dener, g time A.nville ing our ing all ned me ig fixed Y Lady I a very y Lady )cnance honour re stood norning door of icliment ' should r to the garden, er from ted my urst out c I was it. It is shment. emaiued vhelmed paration ,vith my to Edin- onder of y would I expose I myself of being recognised, whether in going tlirough the town, or by the servants of the house. So I was obliged to submit myself, and not to speak of it any more, although I would liave exposed my life a thousand times to see her again. Deplorable situation ! To be within a quarter of a league of a tender sick mother, who had always been dear to me, and not to have it in my power to bid her an eternal adieu. I began to disguise myself towards eleven o'clock at night, as one of those merchants who travel through the country, and they furnished me witli a profusion of handker- chiefs which I put into my portmanteau with my linens, wliere I had likewise the breasts of an embroidered vest, which was very beautiful, and very precious, being the work of a lady. Having turned up my hair, I put on a black peri- wig which floated upon my shoulders, and my Lady Jean had blackened my moustaches for me ; but in spite of this disguise I was not so unrecognisable as with my tatterde- malions. This dear Lady, anxious to know that I was dis- tant some leagues from Edinburgh without accidents, where I would not be so exposed to meet my acquaintances as in the environs of that city, sent her lackey upon her saddle horse to conduct me the two first leagues, in order to be informed of my debut. I made out six leagues without stopping, finding then a village in which there was a public house, and I set my foot to the ground for the purpose of resting myself there, and having scaething to eat. The landlady begged me earnestly to agree to join myself to a gentleman in the other room, who had just also arrived, so as to dine together. I agreed to it, suspecting that she had not accommodation to serve us sepa- rately. I was confounded on entering the room to find M. Scott, banker, from Edinburgh, a young gentleman, who knew me very well by sight. This was an encounter the more perplexing in as much as he was an out and out parti- 104 san of the House of Hanover. The mistake made, tliere was no time for me to draw back ; and, sheltering myself under my disguise, I played the part of the merchant, until in distrac- tion he pronounced my name. Not being able any longer to doubt that T was not recognised, 1 endeavoured to deceive him as to the road which I was to follow, there being more roads branching off from this village which fell into the great road from Edinburgh ; and I said to him that I would go to sleep all night at Jedburgh. The road to go thither joined the road to London at this village on turning to the ri^rht. o o o After he had pronounced my name I could remark that he had an extreme intention to make me believe, in spite of that, that he did not know me, for which I could not divine his motive. I did not fear to be taken in the village, having my pistols, one in each breeches pocket, charged and primed ; but I doubted greatly that on his arrival in the evening at Edinburgh he would inform against me to enable them to write to the magistrates of the different towns on the road to London with orders to make me prisoner. I departed imme- diately after I had dined, taking at first the road to Jedburgh, but after having gone about a league, I found a cross-road upon my left, which I took, and immediately regained the road to London. I arrived in the evening at Kelso, which is eleven leagues from Edinburgh, and I availed myself of a letter of recommendation of M. Stuart, to sleep at the house of a burgess, in order to avoid unpleasant rencounters at an inn. I never passed a journey with so much distress, plunged in melancholy, overwhelmed and absorbed in reflec- tions the most cruel. I reduced my lot to the terrible alter- native — either to perish on the scaffold, or to save myself in some foreign land, never again to revisit my native land, my parents, my friends whom I had left there, who were dear to me \ — in fine, it was actually an eternal adieu to all. The next day I entered England. Amid the immense number of prisoners which we made 105 made in the different battles we gained over the English, there- were a great many who enlisted not in good faith, into our army, the greater part of them only seeking thereby for means more easily to desert, to rejoin their former troops in the English army. I had taken from thirty to forty of them into my company, of which there remained, at the battle of Cnlloden, but five or six. The unfortunate Dickson, my servant, was of this number, and he had the misfortune to be hung at Edinburgh, during my stay at the house of my Lady Jean Douglas, dying with all the bravery and fortitude pos- sible. He refused his pardon, which was offered him by M. Chapman, his former captain in the 42nd I'cgiment, on con- dition only that he would confess his fault. The fourteenth day after my departure, being two miles from Stamford, where I proposed to pass the night, the sun not being more than an hour above the horizon, and having made good thirteen leagues in the journey, in passing some covered caravans, all at once I heard a voice in one of these caravans cry out — " Look ! look ! see a man on horseback as like our rebel captain as two drops of water." And he named me at the same time. These caravans were going also to Stamford. They told me at the house of my Lady Jean Douglas, that there had passed, eight days before, caravans full of soldiers, wounded at the battle of Cidloden, to convey them to the Hospital of Invalids at Chelsea, near London ; but I believed them too far advanced to be able to find them in my road ; and not reckoning to encounter in England those gentry who recognised me again, I had taken off my grand black peri- wig on account of the excessive heat of the weather, and having on my turned up hat, which covered my visage as if for the purpose of protecting me from the sun, I did not make it appear as if I understood them ; and having passed these caravans, I always continued at the same pace of my horse till I had crossed the toAvn of Stamford ; then I set spurs to my horse, and rode on full eight miles at the gallop, 106 to obtain the advance of these caravans, in order that they might not see me again. I would have been afraid, by stop- ping all night at Stamford, of the searches which the magis- trates would have been able to make on the reports of these soldiers. In the meantime this adventure might have made me lose my horse, which would have reduced me to a situation the most desolate, the mere idea of which made me tremble. Arrived at the inn, as soon as he was entered the stable he lay down without inclining to cat or drink, and he appeared altogether done up. I tormented my imagination how I could continue my journey, if he was no longer in a state to travel, and I had still to dread the arrival next morning of these cara- vans at the same inn, which was the only one in the village. Plunged in uneasiness and chagrin, I did nothing else but come and go continually between the inn and the stable during two hours ; at the last, after much torment of mind, I was agreeably surprised to see my horse in the end eating with a good appetite, and comporting himself to a miracle. The landlord said to me that I had nothing" to fear for him ; offering at the same time to buy him by giving me three times moxC than he had cost me ; reassured also as to the state of my horse, it was a great deliverance for me to be relieved from the most cruel perplexity. He added " that in some hours he would not feel any more his fati'^ues, and that next day in the morning I would be able to depart at such hour as I chose without fearing that he would leave me by the road. I fixed my departure for half-past twu in the morning, under pretext of evading the heat, but in reality for getting in advance of these caravans, which had annoyed me so much. The next morning at sunrise, as soon as I arrived at the high-road, a man, well-dressed as a burgess, aged about forty years, mounted upon a very fine bay courser, came across the fields, leaping all the hedges and ditches with an astonishing 107 they stop- lagis- these c lose n the smble. blc he scared could travel, 3 cara- ,'illage. ,se but during I was with a The him ; >e times state of relieved u some lat next ch hour by the iu the reality annoyed id at the )ut forty cross the onishing agility, and ho set himself down at my side, entering all at once into conversation in spite of the little disposition on my part to hold it, as he might have been able to see by my manner of answering him always in monosyllables. Having examined his physiognomy, as he sat on my left, I found iu him a raised and troubled air, tnrning at every instant his head to look on every side. In fine, he had all the signs of a robber, with whom the highways in England were infested. I put, on the instant, my hand into my breeches pocket, hold- ing a pistol in my hand cocked, and my eyes always fixed upon him, determined, upon the least movement which he might make with his hands, that my pistol should be immedi- ately as ready as his. I regulated also the pace of my horse with his, never leaving him behind me, as I perceived that he had some desire to be, by slackening at every moment his pace. I did not iucHne to surrender ray pin-se without a combat. In my position the loss of my money would have ruined me without resource, and I did not know how I should have been able to extricate myself out of such a serious embarrassment. Having travelled in this manner for more than half an hour, always upon the qui vive, forming a thousand broken resolutions, all of a sudden, he wished me good day, and made himself off at the same time, in the same fashion iu which he had come across the fields, crossing the hedges and ditches ; and without appearing to have any other idea in his mind than to get off the highway. Perceiving the bold countenance which I showed to him, he had given up making further questions, and I was very glad to see him depart, for an adventure of that kind might not have failed to be disastrous to me. If I had knocked him on the head, defending myself, I could not have presented myself before a Justice of Peace to make my deposition ; and if he had taken my purse, I do not know how I should have been able to continue my journey, without money. During the time that I was dining at a dirty jockey inn, 108 there entered a man whom I judged by his conversation with the hostess to be a Custom-house ofricer. This man set him- self down abruptly at the table Avith me, Avithout sliewing mo the least politeness or asking my permission. lie passed a quarter of an hour without opening his mouth, making a considerable breach upon a piece of roast veal. Satiated at last, he laid down, with gravity, his knife and fork, with an air content and satisfied. " Sir," said he to me, " I saw you pass by this morning; apparently you have slept at Stamford. I perceived by your horse, of which we have none of that race in England, that you had come from Scotland. Tell me if it is true that they have entirely dispersed the rebels ? It must be confessed that your nation sought with ardour its own destruction ! Have we ever been governed with such mildness and moderation as we are at present by His Majesty King George ? Your nation did not choose to remain quiet till it was totally crushed. Is it ever possible to eradicate from your nation this hereditary spirit of rebellion ? " I was uneasy, fearing that this coarse fellow had been sent by the magistrates of Stamford to try to verify the declaration of the soldiers ; and not to lose sight of me until tliey should find an o[)])ortunity to arrest me in the first great inn on the route where I should pass the night. I answered him "that I did not know any news of the rebels, having only come from the province of Annandalc, which is on the frontier of Scot- land close to England, where they were generally altogether ignorant of what had passed in the nortli of Scotland ; that as to the rest, being a pack-merchant I did not occupy myself but with my merchandise, and troubled myself very little with affairs of State." He asked immediately to see my merchandize. I told him that I had sent to London by sea my cloths and other worsted manufactures, and I had only with me a few handkerchiefs. I immediately opened my portmanteau to shew them, and I sold to him a piece without kuoAving the price, for they had forgot to mark it on 109 a each piece. It ia true I luul not foreseen these cmbarrnsa- ments in the route to London to oblige me to sell them. In paying me for this piece of handkerchief he bestowed praises on my probity, telling mc that I was a young man of con- science, and that all the other Scotch merchants who travelled daily by the road were real rascals, having made him pay lately for the same pieces of handkerchiefs nearly double what I luid exacted from him. In searching my port- manteau, my embroidered vest appeared, and he had a great desire for it ; but as to it, I told him that it was not in my power to sell it for less than five guineas. He thought no more of it, and I was very glad that he did not torment me more to have my vest, for I would not have given it for all the things in the world. If this man was sent after me, as I had suspected him, at least he would have to render an ac- count that I was a merchant ; and the piece of handkerchief that I sold him, apparently much cheaper than it had cost me, gave him a high idea of my probity. He made me take the addresses of his friends in London, in order that I might sell them similar pieces at the same price. I arrived at London at six o'clock in the evening the seventh day after my departure from the house of my Lady Jean Douglas, having made a hundred and forty leagues without too much fatiguing my horse. I set my foot on the ground at a hotel in Grace Street, which M. Stuart had recommended to me for honest people ; and I proceeded, as soon as I had changed my linen, to deliver a letter of re- commendation to a person from whom uU the favour I had to ask, was to find me a furnished room to hire, where I could lodge for the moment, in order to avoid the inconvenience of sleeping at a hotel. Having found him, his excuses surprised me much, at his not being willing to find me a lodging, at the same time that he informed me that the keeper of the hotel being a Scotchman, much suspected by the government, he feared that the Court employed some of his domestics as 110 spies to give them information of all Scotchmen who might arrive in London. I returned to the hotel very ill pleased with the clown, who did not choose to give himself the trouble to find me a lodging, and very uneasy, after what he had said, to be obliged to pass the night there. I did not shut my eyes the Avhole night with uneasiness, fearing that they miglit apprehend me on the information of these spies at the hotel ; and having risen in the morning, at an early hour, I went out immediately to seek a lodging, without being able to find one in that quarter which would accommodate me, on account of the expense. Impatient and uneasy to depart from the hotel, I recollected myself all at once of a milliner who had profcrred her friendship for me when I found myself in London in 1740 ; and the point was to know, if she had sub- stituted some one in my place, whom she loved better tlian me, or if I could rekindle the same flames wliich I had then been able to inspire her with, after an absence of five years. As she had good sense, feeling, and a great sweetness of character, I was fully persuaded that I woidd risk nothing in trusting my life in her hands : so I at once took a hackney coach and repaired to her house. Having sent back tlic hackney coach at some paces from her house, I entered into her shop under pretext of buying something, imagining that she would not recognize me ; but as soon as she saw me she called me by my name, in a transport of joy to see me again. Her servant being present, I said to her that she had possibly forgot mc, since my name was Leslie. We entered into the saloon, Vidierc I recounted to her my misfortunes, which brought tears to her eyes ; and I could see very well that this amiable, good woman yet loved mc. I added tbat the con- vincing testimonies of her friendship and affection made mo truly believe my life to be in safety in her hands. " Ah ! as to that, yes," cried she, with vivacity ! She embraced mc immediately, and prayed me to be couAinced that she still loved me as before, and that she had often thought of me. Ill again. of me. She oifered me at once a room in lier house, telling me that I should be doubly secure there, as she had never wished to let her chambers ; and she made me all the entreaties possi- ble to come and occupy them without tarrying a moment, as I was exposed to disagreeable accidents in a hotel. I ac- cepted the obliging offer which she had made me. I went back to the hotel to fetch my portmanteau, and I returned to dine at her house, and to enter into possession of a very fine room on the first floor above ; and having found a stable in the neighbourhood, at night I moved my horse thither myself^ in order that the people of the hotel, if they were spies of the Court, might be ignorant of the quarter I had gone to dwell at. Thus I was then reassured and tranquil on that account. My horse was so jolly that I sold him at once very advantageously, and gained from that source much more than the expense of my journey, with the loss which I had sus- tained on the piece of handkerchief. Having remained at London a year, in spring, 1740, I received an order from my father, in consequence of a dis- agreement, to retm'n to Scotland, and he only gave rae three weeks to return thither, under the penalty of not pardoning me again that disobedience. I was at this moment very cri- tically situated with regard to my father, when, in a visit that I made to one of my friends to inform him of my depar- ture, I met at his house with the most beautiful person that ever lived, aged eighteen years, and who had arrived lately from the provinces. She was ignorant even of the perfection of her figure, altogether heavenly, and the power of her charms. She was the niece of my friend — an only daughter. Her father was of an ancient English house, the youngest brancli of which was very illustrious, with the title of Duke. I remained to dinner with her at the house of her uncle, where she staid ; and her engaging manners, her air of sweet- ness, her conversation full of good sense, spirit, modesty, and without affectation, all combined with her beauty to captivate 112 me, and to make me feel with violence the torments of a rising passion. This adorable beauty reduced me in a mo- ment to suffering the most inexpressible. I could not keep my eyes off this charming object, and the more I admired her the more the subtle poison penetrated my soul. I was as if in a fever — breathing left me — a great movement of blood suffocated me- -and with difficulty could my tongue utter monosyllables. I tried in the meantime to conceal as much as it was possible the distress and disorder with which my soul was devoured. I had never till then felt anything like it. I had found myself often loving, but this love easy to sup- port, which often lost itself without knowing why, and of which a short absence or another beauty would break the chains — making me forget as easily that which had rivetted them ; but this charming person had put me in a frightful state — my wounds were deep — I was thunderstruck — and I no longer knew myself. I did not speak to her of my depar- ture, though that was the object of my visit ; and the uncle invited me to spend the next day with them. I returned home distracted, raving, melancholy, over- whelmed, and with her image vividly painted in my imagina- tion as if I continued to see her before me. Sleep did not relieve my pains : I passed the night without shutting my eyes, combating without ceasing crueliy between my love and my duty to my father. Having returned five or six times to her house, returning always more enamoured and more tormented than ever — every visit rendering me less master of myself ; on the other hand, my father agreed to pardon my follies on condition that I should arrive in Edinburgh in three weeks : if I failed to comply with his order I would occasion a second quarrel with him, worse than the first, ready to ex- plode. How distressing my situation was ! My soul was lacerated : my case was truly perplexing. I have had a terrible youth to pass ; passionate, obstinate, lively, unruly, uncontrc liable with a great many other ex ha lie an he wir poJ Jiai 113 over- faults ; In the meantime, without having ever done anything against honour, probity, or which could wound the most delicate feelings of a gallant man ; and I was always incap- able of meanness. Too much indulged by the tenderness of my mother, she supplied me with money underhand, which served to feed my extravagances and follies, and I had only to demand from her to receive it. In 1738, then, at the age of eighteen years, the desire seized me of going to Russia to see my two uncles, M. Douglas, Lieutenaut-General and Governor of Revel, and M. Hewitt, brother of my mother, formerly a favourite of the Czar Peter, and President of the College of Commerce ; but he had retired on the death of that emperor with a considerable pension. My father would not consent to this ; but having carried my remonstrances to my Lady Jean Douglas, who was my ordinary resource in my disputes with my father and my oracle, being the only person who could convince me when I was naugiity, and made me desist immediately, she represented to my father, who was greatly annoyed at ray neglecting my studies, and plunging into libertinism, that it was the only means of weaning me from it, to send me away at a distance for some time from my associates, young gentlemen who encouraged one another in their debaucheries ; and thai it was fortunate this idea had come of myself ; so this dear lady obtained my father's consent to it. My uncle, Hewitt, was a man of distinguished merit. He had a great deal of good sense, spirit, attainments, and experience. He had been promoted at the Court of Russia, having entered into the service very young ; and in his youth he had been as much a libertine as myself, by consecjuence an excellent pilot to cause me escape the rocks upon which he himself had split. He loved me greatly : he reproved me with mildness, honesty, and patience. In place of the dis- position (caustic, morose, and severe) of my father, who having been always wise and philosophic from his infancy, II IH did not know how to sympathise and yield a little to the torrent of a boiling blood, different by temperament from his own. At the end of a year he taught me to think, and stifled a part of the great fire and vivacity which had carried me away, as if in spite of myself. I had always had a decided inclination for the military profession ; but my father not wishing that his only son should be cut off by a cannon-ball, contradicted me in that as he did continually in everything that I desired. My uncle, Hew'tt, had been Colonel of a Regiment in Russia ; but at the battle of Narva he was wounded so dangerously by a ball across the neck that he quitted the military service to be at the head of the College of Commerce. He sub- scribed very willingly to my desires of entering the service of Russia; and one day when the Count Gollovine and the Prince Car.'ikin were at dinner at his house, both Secretaries of State and friends of my uncle, he presented mo to them as come from Scotland expressly for the purpose of entering the service of Russia, and begged them to take me under their protection. They responded so well to my wishes that at the end of some days they had a commission as lieutenant made out for me, with all the assurances possible that at the end of the campaign of 1739 against the Turks I should have a com- pany. I imparted to my father this opportunity of making a figure in the world, and over and above, this powerful patronage ; that I had, moreover, that of Field-Marshal Keith, also a friend of my imcle Hewitt, who would render me a ser- vice, and that I was certain to be greatly supported by my uncle Douglas. My luicle wrote him a letter at the same time very pressing to have his consent, but in place of con- senting to it he answered me in a letter conceived in terms the most severe, that I knew very well it was never his intention that I should settle anywhere but in my native country ; that I had been all my life-time disobedient to his wishes, and that if I persisted in acting contrary to them, as I had done, 115 torrent 8 own. I a part way, as nilitary ily son in that d. My Russia ; ^erously ' service Ee sub- jrvice of and the cretaries them as sring the der their lat at the int made lie end of i^e a com- f making powerful lal Keith, me a ser- :d by my the same 36 of con- terms the intention country ; ishes, and had done, I might depend upon it that he would disinherit me, and leav3 all his fortune to my sisters. This was a great mis- fortune for a young man, having all the appearance of being one day rich, although riches were often imaginary, to make him lose his fortune ; and it was cruel and unpardonable in a father to conceal from his children the state of his affairs. In yielding obedience to my father, I lost the only opportunity that presented itself in my life of making a brilliant fortune. There are moments when fortune opens the door to men to attain success. Happy those who can discern and seize them at the instant. General Keith pressed me much to avail myself of tlie good inclinations of the two Ministers, reiterat- ing to me his assurances that he would share with me the friendship which he had for my uncle Hewitt. He was then in his bed from the wounds which he had received at the siege of Ockzacow in 1738, where he commanded ; and Lord Marischal, his brother, having come to St. Petersburg to take care of hira, was an agreeable acquaintance which I then made, and which I renewed afterwards at Paris in 1751, my Lord being then in that city in quality of Ambas- sador of the King of Prussia. Repelled by my father from entering the service of Russia, my sojourn there became disgustful to me ; above all, since a young man, SmoUet, who had come to St. Petersburg in 1739, with a design of entering the service, but who had not found it agreeable to his taste, spoke to me so much of the pleasures and amusements of London, that he gave me immediately a wish to go thither ; and Smollet having himself resolved to return thither, I decided to embark with him in the first vessel that should sail from St. Petorisb urg, without waiting for the consent of my father, his reply not being able to reach me till after the freezing of the navigation of the Baltic, — waiting which, I should have been obliged to remain another year in Russia. My uncle, after having greatly combated my project of going to Loudon, ceased in the end not to im- 116 portune me with regard to it. But as he saw better than I that my father would be much enraged at my procedure, he offered to advance me such sum as I should wish, on his account, — assuring me that my father would be unable for a much longer time than I believed before he could send me any more. I took only ten or twelve guineas, in the per- suasion that my father would at ouce honour my Bills of Exchange. After having secured my passage for London in the same ship in which M. Smollet was to embark, and having agreed as to the price with the captain, Walker, captain of another merchant vessel, which was to depart for London at the same time, came to the coffee-room demanding of me to speak to him particularly. He said to me, that having been informed that I wished to go to London, ho had come to beg me most earnestly to accept my passage in his ship, which would sail in company with that wherein my friend M. Smollet was ; and that far from exacting anything for my passage, he would regard it as an infinite obligation to keep him company ; that fresh provisions would not be wanting on board, since I would only have to give him a state of all that I should wish, and he would furnish them at once ; that as to wine, there was no person better provided than he was, having not only Spanish wine, wine of Bourdeaux and Oporto, but many kinds of wine besides — the last voyage of his vessel having been to traverse all the islands of Greece with some Lords who had freighted her, and he had no other cargo but arms and legs of statues, and a great many pieces of marble with inscriptions, of which he understood nothing ; but above all, wherever he could find good wine, he was careful to lay in a good stock. He added that he was at his ease, without wife or children, having realised seven or eight thousand guineas, which he had in the bank in London ; that his vessel was his own pro- perty, without having any partner ; and that he had decided to sell her on his arrival in London, to pnss the rest of his P a 117 han I re, he >n his for a ad me e per- ills of 3 same agreed mother at the 3 speak formed le most Lild sail as ; and ! would y ; that I would ,sh, and was no Spanish :inds of jeen to ho had I legs of riptions, •ever he d stock, ihildren, hich he iwn pro- decided t of his I = days in a philosophical retreat. I had seen M. Walker many times, and I had always distinguished him much among other mariners for his probity, a great sweetness of character, the most agreeable company, and much experience of the world, and knowledge of good manners, and from fifty to sixty yeai's of age. He begged me to dine with him next day on hoard his ship, and he would engage my friend, M. Smollet, to be of the party, telling me that his captain with whom I had made arrangements for my passage should be there also, and that being his intimate friend he would take upon him to disen- gage me of the word that I had given iiim to proceed with his vessel. He gave us a magnificent repast, and finding him the most agreeable company, I accepted with pleasure his projjosal. We departed from St. Petersburg in company with tlie other ship, in which M. Smollet was embarked, and having had much calm weather our parties of pleasure were to belay the two ships together to give a dinner to Smollet and his captain, having been better provided than they in a thousand sweets and little things which afford pleasure at sea. A breeze of wind upon the coasts of Denmark at length sepa- rated us, and we did not see each other again till we were at London, where we arrived after a passage of six weeks. I had all the amusement possible in the vessel. M. Walker was full of continual attentions for me, acting as if I had been his own son ; giving me good advices with much sin- cerity and mildness. He was one of those sweet souls and good hearts which one finds more commonly among the English than anywhere else. Having more experience and foresight than I then had, he ahvays assured me that my reconciliation with my father would not be so easy and prompt as I imagined, according to the character which I had often given him of him, as being extremely harsh and severe ; and on arriving he engaged me to stay at his lioiise in waiting to receive news from my father. This I did, and this was 118 my good fortune, for having drawn a bill of exchange on my father, and written letter upon letter, he persisted in refusing to answer. Poor Walker took me sincerely into his friend- ship, acting continually towards me with all the affection and feeling of a father, so that I remember well the obligations under which I was laid to him, which were conferred upon me in such a noble and generous manner as not to make rae blush for them. M. Walker had placed his vessel in the docks to have her sold after our arrival in London, but not finding any person to purchase her, and having an oifer of a freight for Bour- deaux, he desired to make another voyage before quitting the profession of a mariner. He pressed me strongly to make the voyage with him to keep him company, telling me that money should not be wanting, his purse being at my service witli all his heart, and nothing that could afford me pleasure ; that besides, I would have the pleasure of seeing France, and that it would be a pastime, waiting till my father should grant his pardon. I accepted with pleasure the obliging offer of this worthy man, not seeing any other course to follow on account of the silence and obstinacy of my father not choosing to reply to my letters ; and everything was readv for our depar- ture in two or three days. My friend SmoUct, who on his return to London had obtained a lieutenancy in the regiment of Wentworth, lodged in the Court end of the town ; and as I staid always at the house of M. Walker, who had his house at Wa})ping, the quarter of the seafaring people, we wore at the two extremi- ties of London, and I rarely saw him ; but as I was on the eve of my departure with Walker, I went to pass a day with him, and to take leave. Returning from his house about eight o'clock at night, the lamps being lighted, in going along Change Alley — a passage like to that of the Palais Royal, which abuts in the street de Richieleu — absorbed in reflec- tions and plunged in the deepest distractions which my deso- 119 on my jfusing friciid- on and nut ions I upon ike me avc lier person r Bour- ing the lakc the t money with all •c ; that ;ind that ;rant his • of this account osing to ir depar- don had 1, lodged ys at the oing, the extremi- is on the day with ise about ing along lis Royal, in rcflcc- my deso- late situation'^ furnished me, all at at once I was awakened from them by a voice which called me by my name. I turned my head, and I saw M. Whitlock, a young English gentleman whom I had known at St. Petersburg, where he had passed the winter with the design of entering into the naval service of Russia ; but being j)ut out of sorts at St. Petersburg, and his eldest brother not inclining!: to liouour his Bills of Ex- change, he was there also as ill at ease as I then was at London. He engaged mo to go and sup with him at his house ; and having aiTived at his lodging, I recounted to him all my history since I liud seen him, and my unpleasant situa- tion by the obstinate silence of my fatlicr, which put me under the necessity of availing myself of the obliging offer of M. Walker, whom M. "Whitlock had known at St. Petersburg, to accompany him in his voyage to Bourdeaux. M. Whit- lock, after having made me sec how much my father would be enraged a thousand times more against me, although he was inclined to pardon me, when he understood that I was not at London, but running on the seas, he obligingly oifered to lodge me, and to mess together in the same house with him, and that he would not allow me to want for anything while waiting till I had news from my father. He added that he was then at his ease, having got his patrimony out of his brother's hands. He proposed to me to sleep at his house, and I consented to it on condition that we should go next day, at six o'clock in the morning, to see M. Walker, who approved of our reasons for remaining in London. We re- mained to dinner with Walker, and I took leave of this worthy man with tears in our eyes, with a mind penetrated with gratitude for the paternal affection which he had mani- fested to me. How was I confounded and petrified when, in reading the Gazette, I found there the tragical fate of this worthy and honourable man ! His vessel went to the bottom in a raging sea, three Aveeks after his departure from London, 120 and the unfortunate Walker perished with all his e(iuipnge, without a single man in it being saved. How I did lament the fate of this worthy and amiable man ! How I still do so every time that I think of this incomprehensible event ! I shed tears for him in abundance ; at the same time that the remarkable providence of an invisible power, which had pre- vented me, by my meeting Whitlock in Change Alley, from finishing my existence with him, filled my soul with admira- tion and thankfulness. Whatever name we may give it — fate, chance, or Pro- vidence — its effects are visible and incomprehensible, as I Lave experienced it in regard to myself, although the veil that covers it from our eyes be impenetrable to feeble mortals. It failed to change his resolution of not going more to sea, and for accomplishing his unfortunate destiny ; no person appeared in six weekd ;,o buy his ship, and having again the offer of an advantageous freiglit for Bourdeaux, Avhich would gain him three or four hundred guineas of pro tit. That I was not at the bottom of the sea, it happened that Whitlock and I should at the same instant walk along Change Alley, where I had never passed before, and that he should have recognized me by the light of the lamps, for I would not have recognized my father at my side — having been then in the deepest abstraction, and absorbed in the most cruel reflections upon my situation. It was necessary that I should have had to take leave of M. Smollet to fall in with Whitlock ; in short, it happened that Whitlock had sufficient friendship for me — not having much frequented his company at St. Petersburg — to offer me his purse, and to cause me at the same time to enter with him in the same lodging-house.* This is a series * I have passed all my life, so often preserved as if by miracle from perishing, always in difficulties, overwhelmed with misery, persecuted with- out ceasing by fortune. My life was passed in the service, where I exposed my body to the most excessive fatigues which I put myself to, to render me useful to the service. They have granted me a pension, out of which to furnish me the mere necessaries of life. M. the Duke d'Anville and the ; 121 of surprising events that could have never liapponed by pure, blind, irregular chaucc, in the course of its progress. Al- though one were to make reflections all one's life on this stroke of Providence, the more one tries to fathom it, the more will it appear to be involved in darkness. All is enveloped in obscurity, uncertainty and doubts. The worthy but unfortu- nate Walker was a virtuous, good man, of great upriglitncss, generous and compassionate for his fellows in adversity, of a mild and cheerful character, and possessing all the fine qualities that could make him pleasant and agreeable in society. My father left me to languish in London five or six weeks more before replying to my letters. He had a great deal of spirit and experiences, very impatient and severe, ignorant of the mildness and reasonableness which it was necessary to have with youth, which are all born with different characters — which they take from bodily constitution. A young man the most lively and wild can be reclaimed by mildness ; but never by a great stoical severity, which only serves to agitate his mind, and to revolt him against his father, whom he would regard more as a tyrant than as his friend, and will not value him. After having exposed me to a thousand perils of every kind, where a young man might fall, delivered to despair, he sent me at length a bill of ex- Abbe Terrace came to curtail the funds which I had to sulisist upon. After having been saved so many times miraculously from perishmg, shall I escape in my old age, or die of hunger and misery ? " I do not fear," said Bedoyere, " but that cruel poverty, which breaks the torn heart, enervates the soul, and abases the mind." — Unfortutiutc Spouses, p. 152. Homer says in his Odyssy, " Indigence breaks down the soul, and robs us of half the spirit." Thus it is a truth anciently recognized, and which I have ex- perienced myself. " Fortune," said Charles V., "obliged me to raise the seige of Metz. She is like all women — she confers her favours on the young, and withholds them from grey hairs." She has never been favourable to mo dui-ing all the course of my life. I make a great difference between fortune and Providence. 122 change to pay my debts, onlcrinp; mc at t'lo same time to return to E(Un])urgh in three weeks, if I wi-^hod to profit by his good dispositions of being reconciled with mc. It was precisely at this critical moment that chance made me en- counter this angelic person. I remained in London in the adoration of this divine beauty till there remained only sufficient money to make my voyage with economy; and, struggling continually between love and reason, I took all at once the resolution of dcj)arting next morning, without scseing her again, to take leave, in spite of myself, and under the fear that sole regard for the charming Miss Peggy might in an instant overturn all my sage and prudent resolutions. In again revisiting her, I should no longer be master of myself, and would involve myself in a new chain of embar- rassment. I arrived at my father's house, the reconciliation immediately took place, and the past was forgotten. During six years that I had remairuMl in Scotland absent from the adorable Miss Peggy, the uncertainty of her sentiments in regard to me, the little hope of seeing her again, time which effaces entirely new objects, although one of inferior beauty, had always made me insensibly lose sight of her. But the instant that I found myself again in London, within reach of seeing her again, her image came back again immediately to my soul, my passion rekindled all at once so strongly that the certainty of perishing on the scaffold to see her again would not have hindered me from going to her. I only waited paying her a visit for the clothes which I had ordered from a tailor, and he favoured my impatience by bringing them, with my fine embroidered vest within twenty-four hours. Thus habited I took a hackney coach, which I sent back again near to the house of her uncle. Having asked of the lacquey who opened me the door if his master was at home, he answered me not, but that they expected him to dinner. I informed myself if his niece, Mis^ Peggy, was in town or in imo to •o(it by- It was mo en- ; ill the (1 only y; and, all Jit it seeing the fear lij^ht in lutions. aster of cnibar- Hciliation Scotland ty of her ;einp; her ough one ihly lose again in igc (;arae rekindled isliing on dcred me sit for the ! favoured ibroidered sent back ccd of the t home, he linner. I town or in 123 the country. TIic sole reply of the lacquey, " that she was at home," caused me such a palpitation of the heart and a shaking of the nerves that with dilhculty T could support my- self. I entered into the saloon, and I again saw the lacquey to ask if slie was visible, lie returned at once to announce to me that she was just coming down. The presence of this charming person, who appeared more beautiful than ever, redoubled my disorder, and I remained like a statue. It was in vain that I attempted to speak to her ! My mouth aiul my tongue refused their functions. Confused, and as if petrified I had my eyes fixed on her in ecstacy and ad- miration. As soon as I had a little recovered myself and was able to speak, I said to her, that having been engaged in the unfortunate affair of Prince Edward, I had hesitated much Avhether I should present myself at her uncle's house, fearing to expose my friends to troublesome embarrassment in case that I should be discovered -witli them ; that in the meantime the remembrance of the civilities and kindnesses which I had received from her uncle six years ago, had always been impressed so vividly on my mind that I could not resist the temptation of offering him with loud voice the assurances of my gratitude and thanks. During the time that I spake, the adorable Miss Peggy fixed a look full of pity, of compassion, and of sweetness on me, and answered me that her uncle having always had a sincere friendship for me, would (certainly take a deep interest in my misfortune, and would not regard any risk that he might run for the pleasure of seeing me and being usefid to me. Her uncle entered at the moment, greatly surprised at seeing me again, and he embraced me with affection. I related to him my disasters. He remarked to me that it was good for me to wish to be a maker of kings. As for him he cared very little whether King George, King James, or the Devil was upon the throne of England, provided he left him peaceable possessor of his goods, and these he would not choose to lose 124 for all the kings of the universe. He added that he was greatly affected with my situation ; he counselled me to avoid the roads where I might meet in with my compatriots, offered me his house heartily to wait till I should find an opportunity of saving myself beyond sea, and he begged me to begin from that moment by staying to dine with them. There came a great many persons after mid-day to visit, to whom the uncle presented me under the name of M. Leslie ; and I made one of a party of quadrille with Miss Peggy and two other ladies. How the time glides swiftly with the person you love ! I passed the whole day with her, the most delicious that I had hitherto known, and which appeared to me as but an instant! The uncle said to me at supper that he had remained in the house on my account, and he begged me to be very sure not to stand upon ceremonies, as he would not regard me in future as a stranger at his house. I returned to sleep for the night at the house of my generous friend, the milliner, with my mind well content and satisfied. At parting the uncle invited me to come every day to breakfast, and to pass the day at his house ; and his adorable niece joined in his invita- tions, saying that by coming at an early hour in the morning I should run less risk of encountering any of my acquain- tances who might be able to recognise me. He offered me a room in his house, which I could not accept of, fearing k-st I might occasion him any mal-ad venture in case I should be followed in the streets by any one who might know me and be takeu in his house. Having passed five days continually with my adorable Peggy from nine in tbe morning till eleven o'clock at night (at which time I returned to sleep at the house of ray hospi- table friend), her conversation, easy and full of good sense and spirit, her knowledge, which she made appear with modesty and without affectation, truly learned without making it ap- pear ostentatiously, her sweet manners, delicate sentiments, in fine, all astonished me and filled me with admiration at the lie was avoid offered )rtunity iu from came a le uncle ade one r ladies, ove ! I it I had instant! id in the sure not i me in p for the aer, with he uncle pass the is in vita- morning acquain- rcd me a ,ng k-st should be me and adorable at night ray hospi- sense and , modesty dng it ap- entiments, ion at the 125 perfections of her mind equally beautiful as her figure. I had never yet dared to tell her that I loved her, fearing to shock her. How timid one is when one loves sincerely ! What a change in my character ! I did not know myself again ! I had always been very enterpiizing and bold in presence of the sex; and if I failed to succeed with them I made my retreat -vv ith a good countenance, without being disconcerted ; but in presence of this divine person I lowered my eyes wliei she looked at me, and every time that I wished to raise them to her, my passion immediately brought a trembling on me. I remained stupified. I did not open my mouth. She was to me a superior being whom I feared to lose by revolting her by a declaration of love, in case her sentiments in regard to me might not be in my favour; always terrified at offending her even by the smallest word, and not making her under- stand otherwise my excess of love and tenderness but by the sighs which escaped me, or by my anxieties, which she might well attribute to my unfortunate situation, and not to its true cause. Having passed a whole day tete-a-tete with her, after having suffered a long and cruel conflict in wishing to declare to her the secret of my soul, without 2>ower to overcome my irresolution, ready to suffocate I thrcAV myself all at once at her feet ; I seized her hands in transports, I kissed them both at the same time, I bathed them with my tears. I had not but the power of an incoherent voice, and my lips trembled to tell her that I adored her, — that I did not wish to live but for her, — that my passion was of an old date, my eyes haviug conspired to tell her the situation of my heart in 1740, before my departure for Scotland. She made me rise immediately, telling me coldly that she had always esteemed me much — that she had true regret at seeing mo so absurd in the terrible crisis in which I then foimd myself, between life and death ; that I could see daily some of my comrades whom they led to the scaffold, that from one moment to another I might follow them ready to suffer the 126 same punishment ; and she exhorted me to think more soHdly and to dream rather of the means of saving myself than to fill myself with chimeras. " Ah ! my angel," answered I briskly, " if you do not condescend to love me, I shall be envious of their lot, and I should choose before that death. It is only you who are able to make me appreciate life, and without you it is not worth the trouble of preserving it." From that moment I had a tacit permission to express to her all the tenderness and affection which the most violent passion could inspire ; but drawing down upon me always the strongest reprimands and counsels to behave more like a reasonable man. Her cold and reserved manners dissolved and afflicted me to death ; while in company with other men her gracious, prepossessing, and engaging manners, and comporting herself altogether different than with me, rendered me jealous to excess. I imagined that all those to whom she showed the least politeness and civility were greatly more than me in her good graces and favour. One of these friends had made her a present of a very beautiful tortoiseshell snuff-box, enamelled and set in gold, with a miniature, altogether a beauty, being the first of that kind of snuff boxes that had appeared in England. Finding myself tete-a-tete with her, while I spoke to her, I observed her inattentive and often absent, turning round her snuff-box and fixing her attention on examining the minia- ture. My jealousy was roused against the snuff-box. I re- proached her witii bitterness, that certainly I'er mind was not occupied wdth the miniature which she had seen so many times, but that she could think at that moment from it to him that was present ; that he was the happiest of mortals in possessing her heart, while my cruel and miserable lot was altogether calculated to move pity ; overwhelmed with afflic- tion of all kinds, and ready to sink under my misfortunes, I could si'pport with patience her sternnesses and the cold air which she continually testified to me ; but the sole thought I 127 ; solidly la to fill briskly, vious of )Dly you you it is loment I nderness inspire ; primands iicted me gracious, jT herself 3alous to owed the ne in her made her enamelled ity, being ipeared in ke to her, ing round the minia- ox. I re- id was not I so many from it to mortals in lie lot was with afflic- lisfortunes, lie cold air )lc thought that she loved .'inother, and the idea of having a fortunate rival lacerated my soul, and broke my heart. My adorable Peggy, in her fir. t movement, threw the snuff-box against the marble chimney- [)iece, which broke it in a thousand pieces, saying to me witli fire and vivacity, that I should never have reason to fear a rival ; that she loved me tenderly, and that she would no l-mger disguise her sentiments for me. She conjured me iii the meantime, on learning her manner of thinking, not to abuse ;., and to keep myself within bounds regarding her love for me, which should be constant and inviolable a • long as she existed. Heavens ! what were my transports. The surprise made me remain for a moment stupified and immoveable, not being able to believe my ears. I seized her in my arms — I pressed her to my bosom — I gave her a thousand tender kisses — shedding, at the same time, tears of joy. I ^wore to her an eternal love and friendship ; that my tendon uss and affection should be unalterable; my fidelity proof agr.iust everything till my last breath. These were the first vcmvs that 1 had made and pronounced in all the sincerity of my soul, and in all truth I adored her. She deserved to be S" by the whole universe as a prodigy ; all the perfections and niiable qualities which one could find in her sex were united in her ; and her ravishing beauty — which none could beli(> d without being captivated — was the least of her charms. Sis '^•e this avowal of my angelic Peggy, I regret- ted every moment that was not passed with her; the hours flew with extreme swiftness, and the hours and days did not appear but as instants. I saw her every day, and the last day seemed the . liortest — the least petty absence appeared to me insupportable, cost me pains, and they were for me sad and mournful mimeuts when I had her not before my eyes to adore her. I did not desire from the Supreme Being any other treasures than those which I possessed, and I had no other prayers to offer up to heaven than to grant me the continuation of llie felicity which I enjoyed, which might serve 128 as an emblem upon earth of the state in which they represent the blessed. Happy moments tliose which I have passed with my charming Peggy ! the only ones that I have ever known, and the only ones that I shall ever know ; but I have since paid dearly for them by the tears which she has cost me, and which she will yet cost me every time that I recall these delicious hours which fortune has converted into bitterness and regrets for the rest of my life. Having heard one day in my chamber a noise in the street, I approached the window, but what was my surprise when I saw a dozen of my comrades escorted by the police, who conducted them to be executed on the scaffold at Ken- nington Common. This was the garrison that Prince Edward had left at Carlisle on our retreat from England, and Messieurs Hamilton and Townley the governors of that town and citadel, were of the number of that unfortunate troop. 1 was so much the more struck at seeing them that but for my obstinacy and firmness I would have then been with them at that moment to perish in their sufferings. M. the Duke of Perth, my Colonel, commanded me, on our retreat, to remain in Carlisle with my company. I answered him that I would fight to the last drop of my blood for Prince Edward, but that never would I be left to be a victim by choice ; and I decamped from his house in a fury, without waiting his rnply. Porsisting in my resolution, I departed next morning with our army ; and upon the ncAvs of the cap- ture of Carlisle by the Duke of Cumberland tAvo days after our departure, the Duke of Perth, who was very narrow- minded, but a very honest and gallant man, said to me that he pardoned me for having disobeyed him, and that he was deceived as to the bad state of that place, believing that it could sustain a siege. I thanked, from the bottom of my heart, the Almighty who had watched over my destiny, for had it not been for my obstinacy my position at that moment would have been melancholy, by finishing in like manner my 129 days in torments. What a difference of fate ! Not to liavc but a quarter of an hour more to live, or to be the most happy of mortals, as I then was. How the misery or hap- piness of all one's life depends npon small things, and is but the affair of an instant, for ever irrecoverable ! The smallest error of judgment in our decision entails a train of effects, ad 'infinitum^ necessary, and inevitable. The little attention I had paid to my hospitable friend the milliner, began to aggrieve her mind a little, rendered her imeasy, and put her some times out of hinnour. In fact, she had all the reason possible to be displeased with me, as I passed all my time with my adorable Peggy ; and absent fi-om her, I was thoughtful, heedless, little capable of showing to my hostess all the acknoAvlcdgment she merited, for the essen- tial services which she had rendered me. In short, I was in a mind the most sorrowful and disagreeable for any other than my dear Peggy, in spite of the efforts which I often made upon myself to cause myself appear at least with a forced gaiety, with a sulUciently bad grace, as I had never before known my- self to counterfeit, so that no one could read my displeasure and discontent in my physiognomy. My hostess often made me light reprimands on the subject of my coldness and indif- ference. I blamed myself for it, for she was truly a worthy woman, who merited a better return on my part for the con- tinual attentions which she had shown mc, and the lively and tender interest she had taken in my fate. I always accused my cruel situation for being the cause of it; and I endeavoured to persuade her of the impossibility of being otherwise, when between life and death, seeing my com- panions led daily to the scaffold, and inicertain if I should not soon follow them, as to Avhich my lot in that respect did not depend but upon an unhappy moment of being discovered. This amiable, good woman, who had a great sweetness in her character, and good sense, was suificiently disposed to believe all that I said to her. 130 Being at lunch one day in my room with my hostess, I was confounded on seeing my charming Peggy enter it, urged by a desire to see my hostess from her want of confidence in me. My poor hostess having regarded at first my angelic Peggy, lowered her eyes, blushed, and remained as if stupified. She wished to go away, but I prevented her. My Peggy having satisfied her curiosity, departed in about a quarter of an hour, and whispered in my ear, descending the stair — that she had nothing to fear. My hostess reproached me immediately, notwithstanding without bitterness, that she was no longer astonished at my indifference ; that she saw well the cause, but that she could not blame me as she was the most beautiful person she had ever beheld, with manners the most engaging, and an air of affability, full of goodness ; adding, that certainly there was no man who could resist her charms. I wished to avail myself of the same arguments as before, but she was no longer the dupe of them. Whatever con- fidence I had in the sweetness and fine disposition of my hostess, It was a matter of prudence to take precautions against the evil effects which might happen to me from this adventure ; so much the more, as she could in a moment of bad humour take a speedy vengeance too fatal and melancholy for me, without giving her any trouble ; she had only to go and in- form against me, and cause me to be arrested on the spot ; also having in view similar instances of resentment on the part of women who believed themselves slighted. So I looked out the same day for another lodging ; and I was sufiicicntly fortunate to find an apartment at the house of a periwig maker, in the neighbourhood of the hotel of my dear Peggy. Having told my landlady, the next morning, that having found an opportunity of saving myself beyond sea, I would move at once ; taking leave of this amiable and good woman, and giving her all the assurances possible of my gratitude and everlasting remembrance of the services she had rendered me. She embraced me with tears in her eyes, i 181 ?s, I was irged by e in me. itupified. y I'eggy larter of I stair — cbed me that she she saw she was manners oodness ; •esist her ments as ever con- ^ hostess, ainst the venture ; [ humour for me, and iu- the spot ; it on the I. So I id I was »use of a my dear ing, that )nd sea, I and good e of my vices she her eyes, I truly afflicted at our separation ; and not having a heart sufficiently hard to resist those beautiful tearful eyes, I was sensibly touched by her sentiments for me. One would require to know all the force of love and friendship united, to be able to form an idea of the uninter- rupted felicity which I enjoyed with my charming Peggy ; the moments were too delicious and precious not to banish everything that could molest our tete-a-tetes ; her door was shut to all visits which she paid by the score every day, never being visible to any person, and finding always plaus- ible reasons to justify to her uncle this change in her manner of living. How everything pleases when the mind is satisfied and content ! W-^ sallied forth, often to the environs of London, where Nature even seemed to have changed its countenance. Everything appeared smiling, the solitary walks gay, the verdure beautiful, the colours of the flowers brilliant, the points of view picturesque, the innocence of rustic life to be envied, everything charmed the senses, and offered an agreeable prospect ; it was the presence of ray Peggy that embellished these rural scones. The night often surprised us in our delicious walks without our ever thinking of it, de- ceived by the swiftness of time. I was at the height of my wishes, and insensible to all that did not immediately concern my present happiness, of which I appreciated all the value. All the daily executions of my comrades made no impression upon me. I feared a danger much more friirhtfid than death. It was that of being separated from her, she being all that in- terested me in life, and I declined all the opportunities in my poAver of saving myself in foreign countries, which her uncle and many other persons were occupied continually in procur- ing for me ; believing it impossible ever to survive a separa- tion, with the uncertainty of seeing her again, and the pro- spect of that alone made me shake and tremble, so I had always for a pretext the smallness of the security of the op- portunities which they offered me daily, altliough they were 132 willing to cjct mc a passport, and signed cvon l)y the Duke of Newcastle, secretary of state, to go to Holland. Having learned that one of my relations was newly arrived from Scotland, on returning in the evening from our walk, T mentioned to my Peggy my anxiety to learn the news of my family, and in place of going to sup at her house as was my custom, I took a hackney coach and set myself down at his lodgings. Having found him at home, he began immediately to offer mc his compliments of condolence on the loss I had sustained ; hut I paid no attention to it, imagining he spoke of my misfortunes, which I had in common with all tho^e who were attached to Prince Edward. In the meantime he made me to comprehend quickly that my mother and my sister KoUo had both died a few days after my departure from Scotland, and that my mother had finished her existence by pronouncing as her liist Avords — "I die perfectly content and satisfied, knoAving that my poor and dear sou is saved." H<^ Avas one of those grammatical blockheads aa'Iio [)ossessed a fund of the Greek and Latin languages, but Avho Avere profoundly ignorant of the hnmau heart and the most ordinary circum- stances of life. Had he been capable of reflection, he Avould have prepared mc for receiving a shock so truly overAvhelming. HoAV does Heaven mix its bitterness Avith its SAveets! I remained for a moment stupified and petrilied like a statue ! In the end, T turned my back upon him, and departed preci- pitately Avithout answering a Avord to his sottish compliment. Having resumed my place in the hackney coach Avith difficulty, 1 told the coachman to take me back again to my oAvn house. I Avas Avell nigh suffocated in the carriage, Avhere I fainted aAvay for some minutes Avitliout consciousness. Fortunately, on feeling the choking and difficulty of breathing coming on, I all at once loosed my neck ; by detaching also the neck of my shirt, I recovered from my fainting Avith a toiTcnt of tears, Avhich relieved me greatly. The coachman, who knew no- thing of my state, alAvtiys drove on, and I even believe that the 133 )ukc of aiTivcd walk, 1 3 of luy was my n at his ediiitcly ss I liaxl le spoke OPC who he made ly sister ire from tence by tent and d." He !d a fund ofouiully cireum- le woiikl helminii'. 'cets ! I I statue ! ed prcci- ipliment. litlleulty, ,'11 house. I fainted tunately, ming on, c neck of \ of tears, :new no- 3 that the motion of this ru<k^ vehicle did me good. An-ived at my Itxlging, my landloi-d, Avho had a good and compassionate heart, seeing me in affliction, followed mc into my cliamber, and having learned tiie cause of my being out of order, wished to sympathise with me by preaching all at once morality, and these stupid, old, and usual topics of consolation. I took him like a fury by the shoulders and pushed him rudely out of my chamber. I dared him to enter it again till I recpiired him. Then shutting my door with violence, I threw myself imme- diately upon my bed with my clothes on, and I passed the night in tears and groans without shutting my eyes. I accused myself of having been the innocent cause of the death of the most tender of mothers, by her sorrows and anxieties about me since the Battle of Culloden. I viewed myself as a monster of ingratitude, for luiving been able to remain two months at the house of my Lady Jean Douglas, at a quarter of a league from her, then sick and on her death bed, without exposing a thousand times my life rather than not seeing her again, to embrace her and to bid her an eternal adieu, and to receive her benediction. It appeared to me that this woidd have been to me a great consolation, and that after that I wuuid have seemed to be paying a tribute to natiu'c with patience and resignation. I blamed at the same time my Lady Jean Douglas and my father who had prevented me. This was the most cruel night that it was possible to experience. The death of my mother made me think less of that of my sister Kollo, though I loved her greatly. My father in his letters concealed from me their deaths, fearing to affect me too much, and thinking tiiat my situation gave me sulliciency of troubles without adding to them by this melancholy news. lie was wrong! Had he conununicated it to me with precaution, he would have prevented that surprise Avhich might have been fatal to me, coming as it did like a cla]) of thunder! On coming home, I wrote a note to the uncle of my charming Peggy, letting him know of my afliiction. 13 1 Tlie next day towards ten o'clock in the moniiiip;, I hoard a knockiii}!; at my door. I was still upon my bed, such as I was on entering the house, Avith all my clothes on, and without haviu'r even chanj^ed the attitiule into which J found I had thrown myself upon my l)ed. Oh, heavens ! what a solace to my sufferings, when instead of my host, whom I believed at the door with the intention of teasing me again with his im- pertinence, I distil.'^ iiished the sweet voice of my adorable Peggy, who came as an angel of consolation to dissipate in an instant the tunudtuous tempests with which my soul was over- whelmed, and to recal me again to life ! My divine beauty had arranged this visit with her uncle, who naturally would not the com])any of aiHicted persons, in order to engage me to love come and pass the day at her house. The moment I saw her, I felt as if a restorative balm had penetrated with swiftness into my mind. My torments and agitations suddenly dimin- ished. My soul on regarding her became immediately serene and tranquil. She loved me tenderly. She partook vividly of my pains, and was penetrated with iny aHliction. She joined her tears with mine, and the precious dro])S which fell from her beautiful eyes, which I wiped away greedily with my lips, pierced my heart. To see her afllicted was a thousand times more insupportable than ray own sorrows and anxieties. My charming Peggy reanimated me by lessons of philosophy different from the pedantic maxims of the schools. She commended my affliction for the loss of a tender mother, and her conversation was more than ever essentially necessary on account of my forced estrangement from my native country. She excused the weaknesses which I had testitied in delivering myself up wholly to my sorroAvs, of Avhich a hard heart could not be susceptible. She pointed out to me with energy that life was too much subject to the dispensations of Providence, and to a chain of perpetual misfortunes, to allow us to mourn with regret those who are beyond the condition of feeling all the bitterness of them; above all, one oppressed with 185 IS I Avan without I I hiul oliicc to evod at his im- idorahle to in an as ovcr- uity had )uhl not } to love mw her, wiftness y diniin- y serene vividly )n. She liich fell iily with I was a •ows and essous of ! schools. • mother, lecessary conntry. elivering art could ergy that evidence, to mourn f feeling sed with diisease, such as my mother was for many years. She nuule re- flections upon my critical situation, and how very dangerous it was for me to render myself ill at this critical moment by giving myself thus over to sorrows ccjually disagreeable and fruitless. In line, the heavenly and persuasive langusige of my charming Peggy, the relinement aiul delicacy of her reasonings, the eloquence uttered by u mouth so beautifid and so dear, made a greater impression on me in one hour, than all the rigmarole of foolish sennons by their trick would have been able to make upon me for ages. I felt my heart innne- diatcly lightened and balm restored to my soul. She insisted that I should go and dine, and pass the day at her house. There was nothing that I could refuse her, out of sorts as I was, and almost unrecognizable, with my eyes red and much inllamed. As soon as I had changed my linens, 1 repaired to the house of her uncle, who took great part in my allliction ; and my charming Peggy devoted all her attention to dissipate the melancholy and distress with which 1 Avas overwhelmed. Man does not rest long in the same state. All his passions lift up at a time the ocean of his soul, and what inundations of ideas result from this intestine shock ! Tempest stirs this outrageous sea, and the calm which succeeds is not separated but by a slight interval. How reciprocal love, and founded on friendsliip, is the most precious gift of fortune ! What is the grandeur of its force and the extent of its power ? It is superior and above all the riches, the honours, the titles, and the other baubles Avhich we seek after, with so much avidity ; at the same time, how invulnerable and insensible to the most embittered stings of adversity ! It blunts the arrows of mis- fortunes the most appalling, and allays the load of pains and sufferings the most insupportable. Content and satisfied by their mutual sentiments of tenderness and affection, they brave fortunes in the midst of persecutions the most en- venomed, resting unshaken, and do not succumb to the 136 rigours of its power. It is only in the union of the different sexes that one is able to find this true friendship, which is proscribed the society of men. Two sotds so bleiuhMl and incorporated tof^ether, can have but the same sentiment and manner of thiid^in;;- ; the prospect of misery fails to umkc them tremble ! They support it without murmurinj]; ; they erase the scourge of ambition, not having other tlian m contirnialion of their sentiments, which i* their happiness. How many times liave I begged of heaven but the cabin and the fare of Samuel, with my Peggy, to be the most happy of mortals ? My dear Peggy has often I'eciprocated the same wishes ; and I am persuaded that there is nothing there that could disturb our satisfaction and contentment. Felicity is an imaginary thing ! Let one suppose himself happy, and he is truly so. Providence has made me know for once in my life that there can exist perfect happiness on eailh, not sub- ject to the reverses and caprices of fortune ; but alas ! this is only to impoison the remainder of my days, by the melancholy recollection of these haj)py moments. Some days after, having used my host lewhat harshly, lie sent his servant to say to me tha^ ^. was visible, he Avished to have the honour of speaking with me. On entering my chamber, he made a great many apologies for having taken upon him to endeavour to console me, saying that he was so touched with my aflliction, that his heart bled for me. He proposed to me, as a party of pK^asure, to con- duct mo to the house of one of his friends, who had promised him a window upon Tower Hill to see the head taken off, after dinner, of tAvo rebels, the Earl of Kilmarnock and Lord Balmcrino, two Scottish peers. I thanked him for his attention ; but I excused myself to him, saying that he could see well that I had a heart too sensible to take pleasure in that sort of spectacle. He did not imagine that I was as guilty as they, and that there was no other difference between us but the fate which had befallen me in enabling me to escape being made prisoner. 137 iffon'iil Ax'u'h is ed and jnt and niiiko a ; tlicy thiiii ii ppincss. 10 cabin t happy lie same ero tliat lieity is , and ho ;c in niv lOt sul)- ! this is hincholv harshly, visible, no. On (gies for [i, sayino- art bled , to con- )roiniscd ken off, ock and 1 for his he conld ^asuro in '. was as between 2; me to A friend came to aiin(»nnce to me that the (•ai)taiii of a ship, Avhose sentiments he knew as those of an honest and fiiith- fnl man, undertook out of regard for him to take me on board his ship under disguise as a sailor, but, in order to avail myself of it, it was necessary for me to embark the next morning. The thought of separating me from all that was dear to me shocked me. (^uit my adorable Peggy ! J shuddered at it ! I answered him that this opportuuliy was not without risk of being discovered, for they had only to examine my hands, too delicate for a sailor, and my not knowing the business, the deceit would be immediately found out. He removed all these olistacles by telling me that the captain had foreseen them, and would cause me pass for an invalid from the moment that 1 should enter his vessel. He insisted much that I should prolit by this opportunity, desiring ar- dently to see me out of danger ; but his reasonings were use- less, and he could not comprehend how I should expose my head to the scaffoKl, while 1 had the means of saving myself from danger. He was ignorant that I loved my Peggy more than life. I recounted to my charming Peggy that an op{)ortu- nity had at long ■ presented itself of saving me beyond seas, by a captain of ; nerchant vessel, Avho had offered to take* me on board, disguised as a sailor, next day in the evening, and next day he was to set sail, insomuch that he saw no danger of my being discovered. I did not say to her Avhat I had decided on. She felt immediately, many times changing colour, remaining confused without answering anything, plunged in her reflections, and sustaining a cruel conflict in herself, as I was easily able to see, by her restlessness and embarrassed air. After a moment's silence, she said to mo with liveliness, and, at the sametime, with tears in her eyes, '' Tes, my dear friend, I prefer your safety to my own satis- faction and tranquility ! " In the meantime, she was forced to confess that I was very unfortunate. I did not leave her 138 an instant longer in pain. I embraced her tenderly ; and said to her that I had not only rejected this op[)ortunity, bnt that I would never avail myself of any one they might propose to me, choosing rather to die a thousand times than to separate myself from her, Avhose absence would be insup- portable and render life a burden. While we were dining one day tete-a-tete^ I perceived that all at once she faltered, with an uneasy and embarrassed air, with her eyes continually fixed on the windows of the street, rising at every mome-~t, and without ceasing she left and re-entered the chamber. Having asked several times with parnestness what it was, if she was ill, she answered me in equivocal monosyllables. T supplicated her in the end with clasped hands to tell me frankly the reason of her un- easiness for a quarter of on-hour. " Ah ! my dear friend," exclaimed slie, " you are lost ! Behold a man who is cer- tainly a bowman, whom I have remarked this long time passing and repassing before the house with his eyes fixed incessantly on the door. It is without doubt that he has been sent to keep sight of you, waiting till a detachment should come to make you prisoner. Perhaps some one has recog- nized you this morning, and having followed you to the house without your having perceived it, would all at once inform against you. I have visited the house from the cellar to the garret, and there is not a place where you could be con- cealed." I examined this man, and, positively, it was not a bowman who could have such a villainous look. This ad- venture alarmed me, the more so, that some one had come three days before, dressed and with the air of a street porter, asking for me at her uncle's, and as he did not choose to tell from what person he came, they said to him that I was gone. At the beginning, when I staid at the house of my good friend, the milliner, I had told her very imprudently the address of the uncle of my Peggy, not then foreseeing the consequence. I suspected at first that this was a spice of y; and L'tuuity, f might BS than insup- irceived irrassed of the she left lI times ered me the end licr un- friend," is cer- Lig time es fixed las been : should 5 recog- le house J inform ir to the be con- is not a Dhis ad- ad come i porter, se to tell ; I Avas e of my 3ntly the eing the spice of 139 vengeance on her part, not having a doubt but that she must have known that I w^as every day in ihe, house of my dear Peggy from morning to night. In the meantime, reflecting upon her great sweetness and goodness of character, I could not bring myself to believe that she could be guilty of such infamy. I went every morning in a hackney coach ingoing to the house of my Peggy with the blinds drawn up ; and thus it was next to impossible to have been known by any one in the streets ; in short, I could not know what to think of it. This man not discontinuing liis promenade, and looking always at the door as he passed, I did not know what course to take, luidecided whether I should sally out at once, be- fore the detachment arrived, trusting to my sword and legs (which would cause a terrible uproar in tlie street), or if I should remain quiet in the house to await the upsliot. My charming Peggy, breaking the dilliculty and my embarrass- ment Avith tenderness, said, with lire and vivacity, " No ! they shall never make you die on the scaffold. If I cannot succeed in saving you by the intluence of my parents, who are in favour at Court, I will come and see you in prison, in the evening of the day of your execution, with two doses of poison, and I will take one of them to show you the cxam})le to avail yourself of the other." Oh, heaven ! the idea which my adorable Peggy suggested, made me tremble, and the pro- position filled me with horror.* I did not in the least degree doubt that she would not have been capable of keeping her * Althougli an admirer of the works of the celebrated J, J. Rousseau as much as any one, I do not find in the portrait of his hero, St. Preux, in tlic novel, " Heloise," but a brute, whose love is founded solely upon her enjoyment, without which love is baseless. W'lien he is tempted to throw her into the water on coming the better to drown himself with her, it is a frightful jealousy on account of the deprivation of the power of being able brutally to enjoy Madame Wolmar. When one loves truly upon a love founded on friendship, one might well kill himself through despair ; but it is not natural that one who loves sincerely, with friendship and tenderness, could ever think of making the dear object which possesses entirely his soul jjerish. The very idea is revolting. 11 140 word, knowing all the violence and ardour. of the English fair sex, above that of every other nation. As to myself personally, poison would have been all that I could have wished for, as the most acceptable after having; been condemned, and a service of soul truly great to have procured it for me. I beseeched my Peggy to go with me again through the house. In going through the same, I observed a window in the storeroom, from which one could get out upon the roof, and go from thence upon the roof of the adjoining house. I sent forth- with my Peggy to remain as a sentinel at the window of the drawing-room, with a silver bell in her hand, to ring as soon as she should see any one approacli the door to knock ; and I agreed with her that that should be the signal for me to go npon the roof. I took off my shoes, fearing that they might make me slide upon the slates, and break my neck, which T put into my pockets, and 1 held the window with both my hands, to be ready to go at the instant I should hear the sound. Having remained for a quarter of an-hour in this position, with all the anxiety possible, my dear Peggy came back with lier countenance changed, and said to me imme- diately, laughing, " The devil take them botii. It is, it ap- pears, the sweetheart of my maid. She has just come to ask of me permission to go out to walk Avith him, and the moment she was in the street she took familiarly his arm. The abominable-looking villain of a man has given us a dreadful alarm." A few days after this adventure, being at dinner Avith Peggy and her uncle, the footman told me that there was some one in the ante-chamber who wished to speak to me, I went out immediately, and was very much suri)rised to see there M. Colville, the man of business of Lady Jean Douglas. He told me that she had formed the resolution for some time of going to reside in France, and that he had been sent to London to procure a j)assport, where she could take one tlomestic more than she had, in order to carry me along with 141 her to save me in Holland ; tliat he had left her at H'mtincr- don, which is about twenty leagues to the north of London, at the house of M. Rate, where she would remain three days to wait me before departing for Harwich ; and that she had in her suite M. Stuart, and Mademoiselle Hewitt. What disagreeable news ! Before knowing my divine Peggy I would have been but too glad to find this opportunity of saving my life ; but the case was changed. I did not live, nor desire to live, but for her. I remained for some moments confounded, and witliout knowing what to answer. I was very decided not to avail myself of the offer of Lady Jean Douglas, at the same time that I was embarrassed to find at once a plausible excuse to justify my refusal, fearing that she would imagine by this extravagant conduct that my head was turned ; for no sensible person could imag^'ne that any one who was in a situation liable to be executed on the scaffold, as soon as he was discovered, should reject an opportunity of saving himself from danger. After a moment's reflection, I said to M. Colville that I should be all my life thankful and penetrated Avith the m.ost lively grati- tude for the kindness of Lady Jean Douglas, but that my friends in London having foiuid many opportunities to enable uie to pass beyond seas, without any danger of being dis- covered, I would not, of all things in the world, expose her lady- shij^ further to those troul^lesome embarrassments after having so much proved her kindness ; and I begged M. Colville to state in his letter to her, not to wait for me at Huntingdon, ]iot having it in my power to avail myself of her generous and obliging offers, seeing the inconveniences to which I should expose her. M. Colville departed immediately, and I returned to the table Avithout, in the meantime, saying what he had been about; I only said that it was Lady Jean Douglas's man of business whom she had sent to learn my news. 1 trembled lest the uncle, not knowing Avith Avliom I had been in conference, should not remain in the dining-room M 142 to eat by anxiety for me ; and my extravagance having been then discovered, would appear to liim inconceivable, and woidd lead him to entertain suspicions of the true motive of my refusal. When the uncle departed, as he usually did after dinner, I communicated to my dear Peggy the obliging oifer of Lady Jean Douglas, and the difficulty with which I had got clear of it ; adding that I had refiis- 1 it, as I should ever do evcrytliing that could separate me 1 m her. " Ah ! my dear friend," she answered me, " you have done very ill by the refusal. I have continually griefs and anxieties for you, without saying anything to you of them. Your safety makes me tremble, and torments me incessantly ; and there is scarcely a night that I do not dream seeing you in the hands of the executioner. On the last occasion when you had proposed going, not being without danger of being taken, I imagined that it might be to pluck you from me, to drag you immediately to sufferings ; and I was quite charmed that you had refused it ; but this is quite different : Lady Jean Douglas is of a house too illustrious for the Court to make teasing inquiries and affront her by examining her closely upon mere suspicions ; and they never could have positive information on the subject. You could not run any risk with her, and you ought to avail yourself of it." I was penetrated with the most profound grief to liear her wish me to depart ; and interrupted her, accusing her of inconstancy, and reproach- ing her sharply for her indifference. " No," said she to me, " my dear friend, you are mistaken. I am so little changed in my sentiments for you that I have reserved a proof to give you of my affection, stronger than you have had hitherto, and which I do not wish you to mention till a favourable moment occurs to put my project in execution. My resolution is taken for a long time to follow your lot, by abandoning for you my native country, my parents, and every thing which I hold most dear, having waited for this that a safe opportunity might arise to save you without danger, and it has actually 143 presented itself, such as I have desired, l)y Lady Jean Doughis. I will disguise myself as a man, and cross in the same packet boat with Lady Jean, without making it appear that I know you in the passage. Come, then, let us go immediately to procure dresses at the brokers, to be ready to depart to-morrow morning." She adding — " Providence will give us bread, and I shaU be content in living with you on the cheei' of peasants in preference to all the riches in the universe." I embraced my adorable Peggy with tears in my eyes. I assured her that I loved and adored her more than my life, and that these same sentiments of tenderness and affection which I had avowed for her till my last breath would prevent me for ever from plunging her into ruin and misery ; covering myself at the same time with the contempt and indignation of her family ; that if I had a certainty of having wherewithal to subsist upon independent of the world the case would be diiferent ; but that I did not know what might become of me when I should be saved in a foreign country, nor hoAv to subsist in waiting till I was employed. My dear love seeing me (piitc decided not to allow her thus to throw herself o^'er a precipice, spoke no more to me of my departure ; and we passed the evening together with all the concord and satisfaction, as usual, that two persons devoted to one another could feel without reserve, by ties the most inviolable and the most perfect and sincere friendship. Having retired to my lodgings after su})pcr, I laid me down, but without being able to shut my eyes. A thousand reflections lacerated my mind. I examined my position in London, which, independently of danger, where I was ex- posed continually to be taken, was too bad to assure me being able to subsist for any long time, and having already proved the harshness of my father, it was evident that funds would fail me soouer or later. My Peggy had the prospect of being one day rich, but she would not enjoy more than an indepen- dent revenue. As it was my determination to betake myself 144 lo Russia as soon as I sliould be saved in some foreign country, where my Peggy would know tliat I liad the most powerful protection by the credit of my two uncles, who were still alive, I flattered myself to bo able there to obtain a regiment in that service on my arrival in Russia, or soon after, thus I hoped to find there a favourable lot to partici- pate with her. Then I could make a voyage to England in- (!Ogiiito, to see her again, or to make her come to the foreign country to whose service I might be attached. I thought, further, that as it was for the interest of France on every ac- count that the House of Stuart should be re-established on the English throne, abolishing the ancient system of that nation which had availed itself of this unfortunate house during twenty-four years, as a set-off to the English, a political stroke then practised, and which had not the least effect. She would in the end be able to make an attempt seriously, and to good purpose, in favour of Prince Edward, and then 1 should return to England in a brilliant situation to rejoin my Peggy. A thousand considerations made me resolve to avail myself of this opportunity of saving myself with Lady »Jean Douglas, but the more fully that my dear friend wished it quite independently of her oAvn project. I rose at an early hour, and went to breakfast at the house «f my Peggy. As soon as her imcle had left the saloon, to dress, I communicated to her my nocturnal reflections, asking at the same time for her advice, and to declare of herself whether I should remain or depart. She rehearsed again her project of accompanying me, but I protested solemnly to her that I woidd never allow it, and that it was quite useless to talk of it any more, that I v^ould much rather perish upon the rack than allow her to precipitate herself into an abyss of ruin and destruction. Seeing that 1 did not yield, she said to me that it was decidedly necessary that I sliould depart with l^ady Jean Douglas, and that she would sacrifice voluntarily her own happiness and tranquillity to see mo out of danger. foreigti iG most ;s, who ibtain a Di- soon partici- land in- foroign hought, very ac- 1 on the ■j nation during political ct. She iriously, md then ;o rejoin isolve to th Lady I wished be house iloon, to i, asking herself id again 2mnly to useless ish upon abyss of e said to )art Avitli luntarily danger. 145 As the time pressed, not being able to reckon that Lady Jean Douglas would wait for me an instant at Huntingdon, after my applying to M. Colville, ho ordered me to go immediately to the coach offico, to secure a place in the diligence which went in a day from London to Huntingdon, and which de- parted next day at three o'clock in the luorning. At the same time that I should send foi'Avard my luggage, in order that I might have nothing to occupy my mind, and to be all to my Peggy. Her uncle having re-entered the di-awing-room on my return from the coach ofhce, I communicated to him the offer of Lady Jean Douglas, which I was about to avail myself of, and that I should depart next day in the morning, lie made me his compliments, and testified to me a dee]) regret that I should I e going to leave them. I took leave of her uncle immediately after dinner on leaving the table, and I went at once to wait upon my charming Peggy, at the rendezvous we had agreed on, to i)ass the little precious time which remained to us, in some solitary walk out of the city, and not to lose an instant of it. This was the more essential that a separation so truly tender would not admit of witnesses, above all the presence of her uncle, Avho never had the least suspicion of our sentiments. After mid-day, which was the most sorrow- ful we had ever known, it passed in vows and reciprocal oaths of fidelity, and of an eternal constancy, notwithstandiu'i- that it flew with the velocity of lightning. A hundred times I re- tracted my resolution to leave her, and I had need of the forti- tude of my charming Peggy to strengthen me in my resolution to depart. She accompanied me to the coach oOlce, where having remained together till half-])ast eiglit o'clock at ni'dit, she mounted into a carriage. Inanimate and petrified as a statue, I followed the vehicle with my eyes, and when she departed completely, it Avas then that my resolution became Avaveriug and vreak. My first movement Avas to run into the room Avliich they had given me in the coach oilice, to take uj) again my luggage, and cause it to be carried at once to my old K 14G lodging at the house of the liairclresser, seeing that it was impossible for me to support a separation. I decided not to think any more of my life. Fortunately, reflection came to my aitl, before my luggage was removed, and I became sensible that this step so singular would open the eyes of her uncle and betray and plunge us into an embarrassment the most distressing. Then I returned to the room and threw myself upon the bed to await the departure of the diligence, delivering myself up entirely to despair, and ready to sink under the weight of my aflliction, at the same time that I passcv luider review all my misfortunes, which presented themselves to my troubled mind in crowds, and painted in vivid colours. If I had been able to foresee that this was the last time that I should ever see her again, no considera- tions in the world would have torn me from her, and rather than have departed I would have met with firm step death, with the most excruciating tortures, with which I was threat- ened daily. Vain holies ! vain illusions ! of which my life has proved one continual train without intermission, as Avell as a perpetual series of effects of adverse fortune. The Supremo Being has given a fixed period for the dissolution of all that he has created of matter, but if there is any im- mortality, our two souls wnll be eternally re-united.* The diligence departed about two o'clock in the morning, and we arrived at Huntingdon at eight o'clock in the evening. ■" It is a remarkable circumstance that notwithstanding all the iDrofes- sions of love which the Chevalier de Johnstone made to his adorable Peggy, and the numerous dcscriiitions of touching and pathetic scenes between them, his admiration of her beauty, virtue, talents, and accomplishments, ho never after this period breathes a sigh for her loss, or even mentions her name, content, as ho himself says, that if there is a hereafter he is confident that souls so knit together in love will be re-united in that happy state — a pious aspiration in accordance with all the other intimations with which the Creator's works abound, and worthy of being laid to heart, and improved amid the luimerous vicissitudes of life to which our mortal state is exjiosed, and of which the Chevalier had his share throughout his checkered career. —Ed. 147 ; it "vvas I not to came to became s of her lent the cl threw iligence, to sink 3 that I resented intcd in this was •nsidcra- d ratlier sp death, s threat- my life , as well e. The ssolution any iin- tnornnig, evening. the i^rofcs- ble Peggy, ivoeii them, ;s, he never ! her name, ifident that te — a pious which the i improved is exposed, sred career. Lady Jean Douglas had departed the night before to proceed to Harwich, not believing from the answer of M. Colville that I would repair thither. I took the post the next morning, hoping to join her before her arrival at Harwich ; but the bad post horses had been so fatigued in running at full speed, that I was obliged to stop all night at Newmarket. The next day I found a luggage curricle, and I arrived before sunset at an arm of the sea, which is about a league in breadth, and from which you can see Harwich at the other side; and tliere was a frigate of about forty guns anchored in the middle of the arm of the sea. I addressed myself immediately to the master of the barges, who kept an inn, to take me across the frith ; but who, in spite of my prayers, threatenings, and offer to recompense him generously, persisted in refusing it, telling me that the government had prohibited him from taking any- body across after sunset, on account of smuggling, and that that vessel of war was upon the station expressly for pre- venting it. I was furious and inconsolable to find myself in a situation to lose the opportunity of Lady Jean Douglas after the trouble and pains wliich it had cost me to resolve on availing myself of it. I lowered my tone of threatening, in the meantime, without gaining anything upon his obstinacy. He answered mo that the captain of the ship of war, who was then drinking in his tavern with his otiicers, would put him in prison if he did it, and his barge would be confiscated. The captain of the vessel having heard my dispute with the master of the barge, came out of the public-house to ([uestion me. I was not put out. I answered that I was a servant of Madame Gray — the name which Lady Jean Douglas had taken to travel with — who ought to be at Har- wich actually ready to embark in the first packet boat which should depart for Holland ; that she had sent me to London to execute her commissions, and that I was uneasy, fearing that she should have departed before I should be able to 148 arrive tliere to jrive lici" an account, owiiij; to the obstinacy of the master of tlie bar^^e, who wouhl not allow me to pass, neither by my offers to recompenHC liim, nor by my threat - enings to have him punished by makinji^ my complaint to the Governor of Harwich. I beggcid the ca})tain most earnestly to be so good as exercise his authority, to compel him to do so, and that I shonld not fail to make a faithful rej)ort to my mistress of his kindness. lie told me that he had seen my mistress, Madame Gray, arrive the night before ; that she appeared very amiable ; and that lie would be delighted to have it in his power to be of use to her; but that he could do nothing in regard to the master of the barge — that mtui having particular orders not to allow any one to pass the arm of the sea after sunset. He added that she could not be gone, as the wind was not favourable ; and he mude offer to take me with him in his shalloj), and to put me on shore at Harwich, as soon as he was aboard his vessel. I did not hesitate an instant to accept his offer, and without the least dread, I embarked in his shallop with boldness and hardihood, telling him that my mistress wonld be most grateful to him for his kindness and civility. I Avould have been lost without recourse, if I had shown to him timidity or want of conii- deuce. We were scarcely distant a pistol-shot from the shore, when the captain made me observe in the shallop, one of the midshipmen, named M. Lockhart, and asked me if 1 knew his family in Scotland. I answered not, and that I had never been in any other service than that of Madame Gray. I was under anxiety, lest Lockhart had recognized me, through the Avindow of the cabin, while I was disputing, and that he had told his captain of it. Having been a comrade at school with his oldest brother, and often at the house of his father, M. Lockhart of CaruAvath, he could have been able very easily to recognize me. He w^as about eighteen years old, and lie had been fom' years in the marine service. His older brother, 149 stinsioy to pSlHS, tlireat- t to tliu 1 mostly m to do t to my oen my hilt f»lie ited to ic could liiit man the arm not be 2 offer to sliore at did not the least ardihood, ul to him it without of couii- the shore, »uc of the [ know his had never ly. I was irough the liat he had ichool with father, M. ry easily to and he had er brother, who was very rich, had been f^uilty of the sann^ folly as a thousand others in joining himself to I'rince Edward. 1 suf- fered cruelly by iu)Mgining that the captain of the vessel had no other end in view, by his civilities and offer of his shallop, than to conduct me, with little noise on board his ship, and immediately to make me j)risoner. The young Lockliart had not known that I had beou in the army of Priiu'e Edward. It was a thing too mysterious and equivocal, to see me disguised under the habit of a domestic. 1 behoved in the meantime to submit to my destiny. Heavens ! what a perverse and wretched fate })ursued and persecuted me to the last moment that 1 arrived in Holland ! Was I to exj)ect that a similar adventure would await me at Harwich ? In proj)ortion as the shallop approached the vessel, I counted the minutes that I had to be free before being garrotted and laid in irons, and my heart palpitated terribly, although I always preserved a trancpiil exterior, and while I replied to the thousand (pies- tions which the captain asked me, with sang fro id, calmness, and presence of mind, without being disconcerted, I expected, nevertheless, at every instant that his politeness would cease, that the mask would be taken off, and that the sailors would have orders to seize me by the throat. This was an adventure that I had experienced since the battle of Culloden which occasioned me the most cruel sufferings and agitations, which I could neither foresee nor prevent without giving up the saving of myself in Holland with Lady Jean Douglas. I had often had in my other awkAvard encounters some ray of hope of escaping, whether by defending myself, or by the aid of my limbs, but in this I was like a fish caught in a net. At length arrived at the vessel, the captain, being on board, asked me to come and drink a bumper to the health of my mistress. I regarded this as the deriouemeni of the piece. I answered him that I feared I should find my mistress to bed before my arrival at Harwich, and that I had to give her an account of her com- missions, which Avere most pressing. He relieved all at once 150 my sufferings, cryirif; to his seamen to laud me at the town, and not to forget his compliments to INIiidame Gray. I found Lady Jean Douglas at the iini, and related to her at once the obligation I was nndci to tlu; captain of the vessel, and the purgatory in which I had been jdungcd during the passage, on account of his midshipman, the young Lockhart, son of Carnwath, who certainly could not have failed but to rccogni/o me. She bestowed praises upon me for my iirmness, and liuighed at the singularity of the feat, to have employed the officers of King George to bo accomplices in saving a rebel, who had attempted to wrest the crown from theii- king, to place it on the head of Prince Edward. She said to me that I was certainly born fortunate, and that 1 should be one day happy. I do not know what star presided at ray birth, but my life has only been a continual train of misfor- tunes, of adversity, of pains, of liiiseiy, of Hagrant injustices in the service, which are too hard for a man of sensibility to bear, and for an oilicer experienced in the profession of arms, always ill at ease, and hj;,ving only a pension from the king to subsist on, of which they cut off the third part. I owe nothing to fortune, -which has always persecuted me tlie most cruelly. Providence has often saved my life, as if by miracle, but it has not been up to the present time to enjoy a well being. I have no more ambition than to have ^\ herewithal to furnish me with a frugal subsistence, to have it assured to me for the few short days that I may remain, and to pass them with a tranquillity and serenity of soul, Availing the last period of my life without fearing or desiring it. I should U content with simple necessaries, and should be happv, in spite of per- verse and unworthy fortune, Avhich 1- hs favours ordinarily to the most iufamon- aortals. The wind being contrary. ays at Har- wich before embarking ; and iig thi jou.a the Gover- nor of that town, to whom j.ady J( ai Douglas had been recommended, became our annoyance, uu account of his polite- 151 le town, (1 to her 3 vessel, •ing the ackhart, (I hut to irmness, 111 ployed aviiig a lu their 3 said to lould he 1 at ray misfor- iijiistices bility to of arms, i king to I owe the most miracle, Y a well irewithal ssured to ass them st period content e of per- ftivours irtals. at Ilar- ) Gover- lad been lis polite- ness and civilities. lie had received orders from London to bo attentive in doing everything in his power to do her pleasure ; and he came twenty times a-day, and at every hour, to ask of her if she was not in need of his services. 1 always shut the door of the room not to be surprised at table with my mistress ; and it was quite necessary to leave it to wait until I had had the cloth laid, and till the table was arranged for three persons. Having o^jcned the door to the Governor when every thing was arranged, I took my place as domestic behind the chair of Lady Jean Douglas, and her ladyship having asked tlic Governor to taste her wine, I served him at drinking. It was easy to see by his physiognomy that he suspected there was some mystery ; but it would have been disagreeable if he had lightly occasioned troubles to a person of such illustrious birth, without being sure of his mark. The first letter which I received from my charming Peggy told mo that there was a . umour abroad in London that Prince Edward had been saved in Holland with Lady Jean Douglas, disguised as a domestic. It was thus evident that the Governor could have informed the Court of his sus])icioiis ; and it was fortunate that we were departed the next day in the morning before he could have been in posses- sion of an answer, to act on. AVe arrived at Ilelvoetsluys in tAventy-four hours. I met in with a pleasant scene in the passage. The Chevalier Clifton, who was in the packet boat, being acquainted with M. Stuart, they made him come into the large room which Lady Jean Douglas had hired for herself amd her suite, and his lackey and myself remained in a very small ante-chamber, where we were very ill at ease, and obliged often to incom- mode one another, which rendered us quite cross-grained, and put us in bad humour ; being both in bed, our legs con- tinually knocked against each other in the small space wliere we were packed up, as it were in a prison ; above all, as there were a good many passengers, and the weather rainy, 152 whicli made it difficult for them to get upon deck, this little chamber was pent up to suffocation. Every one believing the other to be truly lackeys, our answers were always sharp and in a tone of contem^jt ; and certaiidy the scene would have terminated by some explosion if the hour of dinner of Lady Jean Douglas had not announced M. Clifton, a young gentleman whom she had in her suite, who had been with Prince Edward, whom she wished to make enter the chamber to eat a morsel, M. Clifton said to her that he Avas in the same condition, and that his lackey, M. Carnie, was an officer in the Irish brigade, in the service of France. She made us enter the chamber to dine, and we being informed of our true state, we were both very much surprised, and made reciprocally a thousand apologies for our ribaldries. I was absorbed in a profound sleep when the packet boat arrived at the quay of the city of Ilelvoetsluys, and every one was already on shore, when they came to waken me. I de- parted instantly from the packet boat with my eyes still half asleep, and I ran with all my might to get out of the way as if the captain and his crew would arrest me, not being able to persuade myself that I was yet beyond th'^ domination of the English. Lady Jean having laughed heartily at seeing me run, she cried to me that it was quite useless, 'jid that I was actually out of danger. 1 then awoke entirely. IIoav sweet and flattering a moment, beyond expression, to see myself safe, after having been for six months between life and death. It is necessary to have been in my situation to know the excess of pleasure and satisfaction that I ex- perienced in the first instances. Since the battle of Culloden 1 had it always vividh'' impressed on my mind that I should finish my days in sufferings on the scaffold. I felt then as if raised from the dead. After a stay of eight days at Rotterdam, I departed wiili Lady Jean Douglas for the Hague, and there she fixed her residence. As my resolution had been taken for a long time of 153 lis little )elieving j'S sharp e would [inner of a young sen with chamber ls in the was an 2e. She informed scd, and Iries. ;ket boat XQvy one 3. I de- still half way as if sing able nation of [it seeing ^nd that f. IIow 1, to see kveen life situation at I cx- Culloden I should ) then as I'ted witli Hxcd her g time of returning to Russia, I wrote to my uncle to let him knoAv in part of the misfortunes into which I was plunged; and begged of him to inform his friends, the Count Gollovine and the Prince Carakin, that I should be at St. Pt.ersburg in the beginning of June ; and to endeavour to engage them to honour me still with their protection, in order that I might obtain employment the moment of my arrival. If I had followed that resolution it would not have been many years before I should have been a general officer. I was ready to depart to Russia when ^-lady Jean Douglas persuaded me to defer my departure until they should receive positive news of the fate of Prince Edward. Cruel and dismal Fortune, which has deceived mo through all my life by false appear- ances * M. Trevor, the English resident in Holland, having pre- sented a note to the States-General demanding that they * M. Machiavclli, in citing- this passuf^o from Tit. Livy, " adco olicoccat animos fortuna cum vim suam ingruentem rcfringi non vult," say.s^ " For- tune blinds everybody in a singular manner when she does not wish to be impeded in her designs ; and there is nothing more tiiie. Henco men ought not to bo so much blamed or praised on account of their adversity or prosperity, for one commonly sees some precipitated to their ruin and others advanced to honours by the force and impulse of their lot, Wisdom being of little importance against the misfortunes of the one, and Folly as little against the felicity of the other. When Fortune premeditates some great affair, she makes choice of some one of courage and capacity, in a condition to discern when she presents to him a favourable opportunity ; and, on the other hand, when she projects some great destruction, she has always her instnimonts ready to drive the wheel and aid her designs, and if there is any one in a condition to counteract her measures, she turns him aside and deprives him of all authority, leaving him impotent to do good, &c. In the meantime, I have learned i>y the different circumstances of history in general, that tliere is nothing more true than that men are able to second their fortune, but not to resist it, and to follow the order of her intentions, but not at all to defeat them ; nevertheless men ought not to abandon them because they arc ignorant of their issues, for her ways lieing so unknown and so irregular might possibly in the end be for our good ; thus wo ought always to hope the best, and this hope is for the pur- pose of sustaining us in the misfortunes and distresses which befal us.'" 154 should arrest and deliver into the hands of the English all the Scotch which were escaped into Holland, to the eternal disgrace of that infamous Republic, they were sufficiently mean to consent to it, contrary to humanity and the law of nations. "VYe were then a score of Scotch in Holland. M. Ogilvic was arrested and sent to London ; the others departed with all speed from this unworthy country ; and as it was necessary for me to remain there to await till I should find an opportunity to go to St. Petersburg, I ran to Leyden to get myself registered in tliat University in quality of a Student of medicine ; its privileges being so extensive that tlie States-General could not dare to arrest a student of that University but for the crime of murder. Having got myself registered by means of some ducats which I paid to Professor Gaubcus, I returned immediately to the Hague, where we learned in a f w days, that Prince Edward was safe in "There is not," says Hohhes, " almost any luiman action which may not be the commoncement of a chain of consequences, so long, that there is no human foresight that could be able to discover the end. Accidents, agree- able and vexatious, are combined in a manner so indissoluble, that every one chooses the agreeable, embracing also necessarily the unpleasant which is joined to it, although he cannot foresee it." — Cited by Cumberland, in Jiin ^^Philosophical Treatise on Natural Laws." IJdin., ito, page 7 . "Such are the marvellous ways," says Robertson, "by which the Divine wisdom directs the caprice of human passions, and makes them subservient to the accom- plishment of his own designs." — //wtory of Charles V-, vol. v., ^^aj/e .009. *' However, it is this caprice of passions which decides the fate of man, and renders him happy or miserable for the rest of his days by a series of effects ; and it appears that the will is not free in the choice of the part we take, by a false appearance, taste, inclination, or dei^ression," as says M. Voltaire, " which determine us in our choice by a preference of one thing rather than another, often without knowing why, of which the one conducts to our happiness and prosperity, and the other to render us miser- able by plunging us into an abyss of irremediable misfortunes." " Man," says M. Voltaire, in the Norman Orphan, " is not but a point in the uni- verse, a grain of sand driven into the gulf of fortune, or into the abyss of calamities. Our goods and our ills, our pleasures and our pains, often arise from -^s so imperceptible that it is only an eye much exercised that can be able to perceive them." 155 !;lisli all eternal ficiently ! law of id. M. leparted 1 it was should Leyden ity of a ive that of that t myself rofessor liere we safe in lay not be liere is no its, agree- liat every lant which and, in Jiis 'Such are Dm directs he accom- IMf/e 509. man, and I series of f the part I," as says ice of one h the one * us iniser- " Man," 1 tlio uni- 10 abyss of often arise cised that France. The desire of seeing liira again, and the hope of an attempt still in his favour, made me abandon my resolution of going to Russia ; and my fate was decided for the rest of ray days by my arrival at Paris towards the end of the year 1746. The pleasures of that city made me immediately forget my past troubles, and blinded me even to the future. I reuuiincd there in a kind of lethargy, allowing opportunities of being advantageously settled in Russia or in Spain to escape, in the hope that the Court of France would still make some attempt in favour of Prince Edward to re-establish his affairs in Scotland; and it was not till the Prince was arrested in 1748, and conveyed beyond the realm, in consequence of the Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, that I opened my eyes, forced then to think of the means of subsistence aud of obtaining a situa- tion. Madame the Marchioness of Mezieres Douairiere and Lady Ogiivie having recommended me strongly to M. the Marquis of Puysieulx, then secretary of state for foreign affairs, that minister took me immediately particularly under his protection, aud granted me during the year 1749 two thousand two hundred livres from the fund of forty thou- sand livres which His Majesty had granted to be distributed in annual gifts to the unfortunate Scotch, Avho had had the good fortune of saving themselves in France, Avith the loss of their estates, aud to escape perishing on the scaffold in Eng- land. Seeing M. Puysieulx very Avell disposed in my favour, and believing that I should still farther ingratiate myself in his esteem and good graces, by entering into the service, in order to render my youth useful, rather than live at Paris in idleness, under the bounty of the king, which this minister had caused me to obtain, I begged him to let me have a company of infantry at St. Domingo or at Martinique. All the Scotch in the suite of Prince Edward having been placed by M. the Count of Argenson Avith the same rank in the ser- vice of France which they had with the Prince in Scotland, 15G and beinc: an old captain in his army by my commission of date the 21st of September, 1745, Avbicli the Prince had given me the very evening of the Battle of Gladsmuir (Preston- pans), as soon as we were on our return from Pinkey House, where he passed the niglit, I ha^. every hope of receiving the same treatment ; the more so as the Marquis of Eguille, the ambassador of France to Prince Edward in Scotland, had given repeated assurances to every one, that in case our expe- dition sliould terminate unfavourably, all our commissions from Prince Edward woidd be ratified by the King of France, and that all those who should be saved in France should liave the same rank in the service of tliat Crown as they had had in the army of that Prince in Scotland. But M. Rouille, newly elected minister of marine, and more conversant with the commerce of the Indies than with military affairs, in place of granting me the request of M. Puysieulx, to have my company, caused make out for me a commission as ensign in the trooi)S attached to the marine, at the Isle Royal. I refused it at first with indignation and obstinacy, not being able to endure the thought of that humiliating and revolting degra- dation of an officer who had served well ; and it was not but on the repeated orders of M. Puysieulx, joined to his assur- ances not to leave me a long time siiamefully with a sub- altern's commission, after having served at the head of my company during the whole expedition of Prince Edward in Scotlaiul, of which the progress we had there made, and the battles we had gained, against forces greatly superior in number, had attracted the attention and astonishment of all Europe, that I consented in the end to accept it. I departed forthwith to Rochefort, with full confidence in the promises of M. "'lysieulx, to wait there for my embarkment to the Isle Royal, the worst place there is in the world. I found at Rochefort three newly appointed officers, in the Chevalier Montahunbert, the Chevalier Trion, his cousin, and M. Frene, who had obtained their complements also for 157 ssion of id given ]*rcst()ti- Ilouse, v'ing the lille, the Liul, had iir cxpe- missions France, 3 should they had Eonille, ant with (fairs, in have my ensign in I refused g able to ig degra- ,s not but lis assur- h a sub- id of my Edward iiadc, and iperior in ent of all departed promises nt to the jHicers, in lis cousin, s also for Isle Royal. Fricndshi})S are easily contracted among military men, and the same destinatio ' attached us with mutual senti- ments of friendship, so much the more that all the three were of excellent character and of the sweetest society. Our em- barkation having been ordered to be in the "Iphigenie," a mer- chant vessel freighted for ihe king, belonging to M. INIichel Roderick, a ship master of Ivochclle, we departed immediately from llochefort, and on our arrival at Kochelle, we found the crew of the "Iphigenie" revolted, with the carpenter at their head, who wished to makd their declarations at the Admiralty that the vessel was entirely unseaworthy and not at ail in a state to continue the voyage. Koderick asked us to dinner, and during the repast he never ceased to assure us that his vessel was excellent, that if he should go himself to Louis- bourg, of which he was a native, he should ^mbark there- in with his family, in ])reference to every other sliip of Rochelle, and that the bad reputation of the "Iphigenie" was the effect of jealousy of his brother shipmasters, who had seduced his crew and excited them to revolt. However si)ccious was the persuasive eloquence of Roderick, my com- p'uiions did not place entire conlidence in his deluding words, but I was his dupe in full. Thus could it ever be imagined that there existed on earth a man so depraved a*id devoid of all feeling of hunuuiity who, for vile lucre's sake, could expose nearly three hundred persons to perish; having with us two hundred recruits, besides a great many passengers and the crew. Persuaded myself of the good faitli of Roderick, I luid no great dilliculty in bringing over my companions to my opinion that it was only jealousy of the shipowners, wlio had raised these disadvantageous reports of the " Iphigenie," and having allayed the sedition of the sailors, we all embarked on the 28th of June, 17o0, and on the 29th, St. Peter's Day, we weighed anchor at the break of day, and departed imme- diately in fine weather and with a favourable wind. The next day after our departure, having doubled Cape 158 Finistcrrr, we were convinced when too late of the perfidy and bad faith of Roderick, and of the follv of wliich we had been guilty in believing him. The " Iphigenie," which, ac- cording to tliJ declaration of the crew dnring their jnntiny, had made twelve feet cf water per hour in the harbour of Rochelle, being then in full sea, took twenty-four fce( per hour ; and Fremont, the captain of the vessel, who could no longer conceal the de[)lorable state of the ship, came to ask an ar- rangement with us to have our soldiers continually to pump and work the ship. The crew, which consisted only of forty sea- men, good and bad, was not sufficient for it. We had the half of our detachment of two hundred mijii, of which M. Montalambert had the command, who took their turn with the sailors, sixty of Avhom were ordered to the pump, to be re- lieved at every quarter of an hoiu' by the others on the muster roll, by turns. A short time after, we had again a frightful proof of the total rottenness of our ship by the loss of our mizcn- mast, which fell upon the deck, and did not fail in its fall to drag after it our main-mast, the socket, rotten like the rest of the ship, having given way. The foot of the mizcn-mast entered the cabin, plunging rapidly through the partition wall. M. Montalambert, who at that moment was opposite, escaped as by a miracle from being crushed, by jumping aside. It Avas still more fortunate that this disaster happened to us at nine o'clock in the morning, during very fine weather, and with a light favourable breeze, which enabled the sailors to stop up in a short time the rents of the hold, and the mast, and the shrouds ; otherwise we would have run a very great risk of perishing on the spot. All our hopes of being able to escape death were in the arms of our two hundred soldiers, and in the fine weather we had, in place of hoping to have, in the fine season. Vain hopes as to the weather ! We had continually to experience blasts of wind the most violent, as if we had been in the very midst of winter, one amongst the others, to the height of 159 mountains, carried off our top-masts and onr sails, by shiver- ing tlirra as sheets of paper, and a swell of the sea drowned our sheep and fowls, and our other i)rovisions. To complete our miseries, our Avater, which, by an atro- cious and hateful rascality of Roderick, had been put into old casks where there had been formerly wine, became so completely corrupt in less than six weeks after our departure, turned black as ink, thick as paste, and so truly infectious as to be no longer fit to be drunk. But these were the least of our misfortunes, compared to our frightful and deplorable situation, having death always before our eyes, and the idea continually impressed strongly on the mind that the "Iphigenie" should plunge us some day into the deep sea ; and when the wind was favourable, they durst not attempt to navigate the ship but with very small sails, fearing lest our other two masts should tumble as our mizen-mast had done. Thus we were without a prospect of quickly seeing a favourable termination to our cruel distresses and sufferings ; but on the contrary, that they would be of long duration, and that we should be for a long time between life and death. Having experienced nine different squalls of wind since the 29th of June, that we Avere at sea, heaven reserved us still for- the tenth, a furious tempest on the 10th of Septem- ber, the most frightful. Wo had a dead calm during the whole day of the 9th, but at midnight the wind began to rise, and continued to increase until it became a perfect hur- ricane, and of the most incredible violence. Foaming, it de- scended the cabin at nine o'clock in the morning, to warn us to prepare for death. It told us that there was no other hope of saving ourselves and avoiding to be immediately swallowed up by the sea but by paying our vows. It added that the crew should come to make one to St. Nicholas, with a pro- mise to chant a grand nuiss at Louisbourg, if it pleased God to deliver us from the imminent danger in Avhich avc Avere ; and it invited us to join ours to theirs, as our only wot IGO resource for preserving existence. Weak and melancholy resource ! In the meantime we demanded from every one a. crown of six francs to bo put into the contribution which the sailors Avere making for this grand mass.* T crawled upon the dock to see what state we were in. My eyes were not able to support but for an instant the horribly frightful views of the sea, which formed monstrous surges like to moiuitains, sliarp and moving, forming many tiers of hills. From their summits rose up grand jets of foam, which sparkled like the colour of the rainbow. They were so elevated that our vessel seemed down in a valley at the foot of the mountains, every surge threatening our destruction, and to precipitate us to tlie bottom of these v.ast abysses.f It is a beautiful and majestic hoi-ror Avhich one would view with admiration in looking upon it on the earth. "We were at the Cape without sails ; the ship could not carry any. That which rendered the rolling terrible was the ship being carried in the water at every surge in a manner certainly calculated to discover the keel on the o])posite side. One must have tried to make weigh witliout a sail of the misery of lightening the ship, but she Avas carried away immediately by the wind like a sheet of paper. Having regained the cabin as fast as I could, but not * " Bursts as a wave that from the clouds impends, And swelled with tempests on the ship descends. White are the decks with foam ; the winds aloud Howl o'er the masts, and sing through every shroud ; Pale, trembling, tired, the sailors freeze with fears. And instant death on every wave appears." — Hormr^s lUiad, Bool,; AT'., Line 752, rope's Translation. t Having experienced violent squalls of wind in the Baltic Sea, in re- turning from Russia on board of Walker's vessel, where the whole crew wr.s composed of English, the dillercnce which I foinul between the English sailors atid the French sailors is that the English swear and work at the same time till the last moment, and as long as they Liave the head above the water, but the French have more confidence in their prayers than in their arms. It appears to mo that a middle course would not be amiss. IGl anclioly ery one 11 which hi. My horribly 3 surges tiers of 1, which were so tlie foot tion, and t It is iew with e at the . That ; carried ilcuhited list have ghteniug the wind but not 'translation. Sea, in re- e crew wns ho English ork at the bead above 3rs than in amiss. without difTiouliy, and without bruises, I there found M. Frene, who knocked with great handcuffs against the partition. " Zounds," said he to me, 'Ms it not terrible to perish in this manner after having escaped an infernal fire at the assault of Berg-op-zoom with the grenadiers of the regiment of Low- endhal?" M. Montalninbert let fly tranquilly a torrent of tears. The Chevalier de Trion, a young man of about twenty years of age, who appeared less affected with our unhappy lot, said to me that he had made his peace before our depart nre from Rochefort. It seemed that the more one had lived, the more ought one to regret to (piit life. This would have been a beautiful subject for a painter, to represent the contrasts in the characters, which even the same event affected differently. T was resigned to die, as I had always been in all my misiid- ventrres during the time that I had fled the scaffold; that is to say, su])mitting myself Avith patience to a fatal destiny which tlicre was no means of evading, sooner or later ; foi- hinnan nature trembles at its destruction in health and in cold blood.* I had a great appearance of tranquillity outwardly, but the mind Avas at the same time lacerated and tormented to imagine Avhat vrould be the last fall of the curtain, by Avhich we Avere shortly going to be enlightened. They came to in- form us that Fremont had fallen doAvu dead, but this Avas only a fainting fit, Avhich passed aAvay at the end of a quarter of an hour. It Avas the ambition of this foolish animal to com- mand a ship, Avhich had plunged us into this disaster; and he Avas as lazy and without spirit in dangers, as he aa^is insolent and impertinent Avhen it Avas fine Aveather. r passed all the day reading the Psalms of David, and * :\ran, let liim bo who he may, is never glad to die, when he is ul.lo williout disgrace to prolong his days, which are not a burden to hini. Virtue, lal)our, love, duty, glory, and patriotism, may well enable him t(') face death, but he retains always at the Ijottom of his heai-t, that nalural repugnance which makes him tremble, as it were against himself, when lio sees close to him the fatal moment, which is to deprive him of life. This most intrepid man will not deny me this, if ho is sincere. a 1G2 plunged at the same time, into continual reflections on a future existence and the immortality of the soul. I recollected what had been said by Wollaston, who iippears to me the most satisfactory of all those I have read upon the subject, of which no mortal shall ever be able to unveil the darkuess that covers it.* * " This faculty of thought," sfiy.s Wollaston, in his Outline of Natural Itdigiov, " which many persons talk to us of, as a quality added by tho almighty i)owcr of God to divers systems of Nature disposed to receive it, ought necessarily, although they always call it so, to dcnoto a suhstanco given to the faculty of thought ; for the faculty of thought of itself alone is not sufficient to form tho idea of soul, which is itself endowed with many other faculties, such as are those of iierceiving, of reflecting, of cojuparing, of judging, of weighing tho coiiseiiucnccs, and of reasoning, of wishing, of connnunicating motion to the hody, of prescn'ing by' its presence the excr- eiso of the animal functions, and of giving life. This is why all that which is added to matter ought to bo endowed with those other faculties ; and 1 leave to people who are not hindered the care of deciding, if the faculty of thought and the other facidtics of which we have made the enumeration, are simply the faculties of one facultj', or if they are not rather faculties of a substance, which being by their own admission added to matter, ought consecjuenLly to be dill'erent. But matter can neither think nor was made to think ; for ■when tho faculty of thought is capable of being added to a system of matter, without lieing joined with an immaterial substance, still the body of man is not such a system, because it is certain that it docs not think, and that it is organized in a manner to transmit impressions which it receives of sensible objects even to tho brain, where it is beyond doubt that there resides that which perceives these impressions and reflects on them ; that is why that which in the brain jierceives, thinks, wishes, &c., ought to be tho system of matter to which is added the faculty of thinking ; that the inhabitant is a thinking substance intimately united to some material vehicle very delicate which resides in the brain. The whole is reduced to this — First, the soul of man is a substance v.-hich thinks, which is clothed in a material vehicle, or rather that it is luiited to it, and which is as it were inseparably mixed with it, I was going to say almost incorpo- rated. Second, This soul and this vehicle act in concert, and that which makes an impression upon the one makes also upon tho other. Third, Tho soul is contained in tho body, in the head, or in the brain, by some sj-mpathy or attraction which is between it, and its material receptacle, until some evil accident, some disease, &c., causes the body to fall to ruins, destroy tho dwelling of the .soul, interrupting tho course of natural coherence, which exists between it and its receptacle, or that its tendency is perhaps changed into some antipathy which force has involved it in. Fourth, By 1G3 , future d what most jcct, of 3SS that ' Natural i by tho •occivo it, aibstanco f alone is ith many riiparinf^, ishing, of the cxcr- tiat wliioh OH ; and 1 faculty of nieration, icultios of ;er, ouufht was mado added to mbstance, lat it docs ions which )nd donbt ■cflects on ishcs, kc, thinking ; to some 3 whole is iks, which d which is t incoi'iio- ;hat which 'bird, Tho sympathy until some IS, destroy coherence, is perhaps ^'ourth, By Towards throe o'clock after mid-day, a wave stove in the port holes of the cabin and tnnd)led ui)on the Chevalier Trion, who was sleeping in his bed the length of the windows. As Ins bed was soaked with the sea water, I made him lie down with me in the cabin, which they had given me, at my entry into the saloon. It was with dilliculty that we could get our means of this vehicle, tho moniontuni and impressions aro communicated through all parts of tho body. Prop. 8, Tho soul of man subsists after dis- solution of tlic body ; tluit is to say, it is immortal. Tf it is immaterial, it is indivisilile, and is in conse(pionco incapable of being destroyed as bodies are. Huch a body cannot perish Init by annihilation ; that is to say, it will always subsist and always continue to be, yet a being ca})ablo of being amiihilated, but not annihilating itself by a particular act ; tin-! act by which a substance shMI be reduced to nothing requires without dovd)t tho samo pov/er as that by which nothing is changed into something. To introduce a body of mat- ter endowed with the faculty of thought, or actually thinking, this is to introduce a body of matter endowed with a new property and (iontrary to matter ; and this is to introduce a new kind of matter, as essentially different from common matter, and deprived of tho faculty of thinking us some kind let it be what it may, differs from its opposite in the shelter of predicaments, and as the body itself differs from tho spii'it ; for a being endowed with the faculty of thinking anil another which is deprived of it, differ as essentially as cori)oreal beings differ from incorporeal ; if this is so, thinking matter ought to continue to think. Why does not our soul perceive exterior objects during sleep, or during the time of fainting ? It is l)ccau3e the tubes have become impracticable ; that all the avenues arc shut, because tho nerves being deranged and rendered in st)me manner useless, are for some time not in a condition to transmit or make known to the soul the im- pressions mado by them ; wo are able to deduce the immortality of our souls and tho nature even of God ; for if ho is, as no one can doubt, a perfect being, ho cannot as such make anything contrary to right and perfect reason," (and we may add that he cannot cease to be a sentient as well as a thinking being, which he has been from all eternity and must ever remain. — Ed.) "It is therefore imiiossiblo that he should bo tho cause of a_ being or the condition of a being, whoso existence .should bo repugnant to reason ; or which comes to tho same thing, it is impossible that he should act unrea- sonably with tho beings which depend upon his power. If we are of the Kumber of these beings, and if the mortality of our soul is re23Ugnant to right reason, this is suflicient to mako us convinced that it is immortal, or ho who mado the soul of man mortal nuist confess one of two things, either that God is a being unreasonable, unjust, and cruel ; or that every ono in this life, which is subject to adversity, has not participated iu IGl soldiers to rom:\in at tlic; pump, and in fact these poor unfor- tunates had nnu'h to suffer, for at every instant the waves j^uslied over them with viohMice, and often swept them into the sea. The Chevalier Trion made constant bulwarks be- tween the decks to cause them mount on hi;:^h, the Serjeants at this critical moment having lost all their authority over a greater proportion of misery than of felicity ; to advance the first of tlioso propositions would bo to contradict ii truth wliich I flatter myself to havo put beyond doiibt. I can, novertheloss, add here that this would bo to enter- tain so unworthy and so iiuiiious ii notion of the Supreme Being that no person would wish to entertain it, without a very great foundation for the last of men, and that the man who defends this opinion knows it to bo false ; for he cannot fail to see and recognise many and incontcstible ex- ampl(>s of the justice and goodness of God, of whicli no une, however, could SCO one, if cruelty and injustice entered into the character of the Sni)reme Being, since ho has the power perfectly to satisfy his wishes, and that he is a being nnifonii in his nature. To allow the second member of the <lil(.'nnna, this would be to give the lie to the luiiversal history of the worlil, iind even to the internal feelings of all men. fjct us consider maturely the teiriblo ell'ects attending wars, &c." (See page 8.) " Jlow could one, then, excid- pato the justice and the reason of the being, upon which those luifortunati; creatures depend, and who would make them by annihilating tlictii suH'cr losses so considerable, if there is not any future life, where there will be a just reward for all their past troubles ? We draw, in short, from this argu- niont these incontestible consequences, if the soul is mortal, or it is not from (tod upon whom it shoidil be dependent, or if this God is unreasonable, or if there nevei- has been a man whose sufferings in this world not having been through his own ftuilt, having surpassed the pleasures which he has enjoyed, or certainly these three propositions are equally untenable ■ thei-o- fore the soul is innnortal." J. J. Bourlamaqui says, to prove the immoi-- tality of the soul— "Such is the nature of expediency, and that onv truth little known by itself acquires force by its natural combination with other truths more known. So natural philosophers doubt not that they have found the tnio when an hypothesis hajipily explains all the phenomena, and an event little known in history does not appear doubtful, when one sees that it serves as the key and the sole base of many other events more certain." — (rrtiicipU's of Nulural llifjht.) "It is ilattering to imagine the inmiortality of the soul, but alas ! as says Diderot, when one has placed human recognition in the balance of Montaigne, one is not far from taking his estimate. Vov what do we know, that it is but matter? By no means. What is it but spirit and thought ? Still less. Is it motion, space, duration ? Not at all. Question mathematicians, in good faith, and they will confess to you that their propositions arc all identical." — Letter tijoon /Saunders. 1G5 uiifor- ^m into irks 1)*.'- LM'jciints ty ovtT it of tllt'HO ilf to hiivo ) to outer- jT tlliVt IK) on fui- tilt.' s it. to 1 10 'stiblo ox- iver, oouUl B Supreme tlmt lie M i diloiiniifi, , ami even ho terril'K; lien, cxcvil- nfoi'tunato hem siiil'oi- will be ii this iirijii- is not from sonahlc, oi" not having ich ho has ])le ■ thero- o immor- one truth with other lave fonml na, and an sees that it eertain." — iiortality of rec'Oiiuition mate. For Kit is it but Not at all. to vovi that :1 thorn ; and it was not but by tbrcatoning and maltreating tlicni that it was po.ssiblo to obtain the end. They always answered, " that to perish was but to perish, but it was better to perish on the (puirter deck than to be swept away by the waves, or crushed to death on the deck." We had many of our soldiers wouiuled, the surges of the sea coming on deck witli astonishing force, throwing them often from one side of the ship to the other. Towards six o'clock at night, our carpenter, who was a pleasant original, and a true harlequin, but very active and laborious at work, having remained working before the door of my cabin, where I was lying in bed with the Chevalier Trioii, having asked him if he had anything new to com- municate, he answered us — " Ah ! yes, gentlemen, great news — very great news ! The fore part of the ship is open, and the water is actually entering it in bucketfuls ; — the isoldicrs having wrought a long time at the pumps without being able to deliver it, it is at length broken ; and there fell ui)on the deck a wave Avhich covered their cbjthes with sand. Thus, gentlemen, we shall be quickly at the devil ; in less than an hour we shall all drink of the same cup." It is singular that there are characters capable of pleasantry even to the last moment of life ; while there are other persons whom the sight of danger deprives of all sensibility, and who are dead a long time before it comes to pass. The depression and weariness of my spirits, absorbed all the day in reflections the most serious, made me assume a drowsiness which I wished greatly to encourage. My con- science — as a Chinese author defines it, that internal and concealed light, page 3-4, &c., Ext. — not reproaching me with enormous crimes, but oidy such as the heat and giddi- ness of youth would occasion, through thoughtlessness, I said to the Chevalier Trion that I should be most hai)py if I could make the passage to the other world sleeping ; that I wished to try it. I took leave of him, embraced him, and having 166 ■ turned my face to the partition wall, I fell immediately into the most profound sleep, without being interrupted by the frc(|uent comings and goings out of my cabin which the Chevalier Trion occasioned in order to animate and make our soldiers Avork ; and i contiiuicd in one sound sleep from half- past six o'clock at night, tdl seven o'clock the next day in the morning. On my awakening I believed myself more in the other world than in this. The Chevalier immediately said to me, how happy I was ; tliat through the Avhole night they expected the moment when the vessel would sink to the bottom ; and that I had escaped greatly the cruel sufferings whicli I would liave experienced had I been awake ; that they liad liound the shi}) round with cables to prevent her from breaking asunder altogether ; that as soon as the car- })enter had repaired the pamp, the soldiers, who hud wrought all the night like madmen, had come in the end to free her ; that the Aviiul and the sea iiad much abated; and for once they believed us out of danger. There is only but a very short space between pain and pleasure. Fine Aveather, Avith a favourable Avind, which at ten o'clock in the morning succeeded the tempest, revived our spirits immediately, fatigued by their sufferings, Avliich they forgot more easily than these enjoyments. We had often doubted Avhethei Fremont was an ignorant or a bad sailor ; but in tlie end Ave Avere convinced that his , ignorance Avould have cost us dear. M. Lion, Avho Avas second in command of the " Iphigenie," told us that by his journal we Avere very near to the laud of the Royal Island, though by the journal of Fremont we were yet distant from it tAVO hundred leagues. This gaA^e us uneasiness ; but in reality it Avould have been a very melancholy fate to perish among tlio rocks, Avith Aviiich all this coast is surrounded, at the moment when A\e had been saved from the tenijjest. I determined to pass the Avhole night on deck ; and I said to my companions, that as they liad Avatched for my safety during itely into 1 by the hich the iiakc oiir •om half- ay in the re in the ly paid to ight they ik to the sufferings tike ; that •event her 1 the cfiT- :l wrought free her ; 1 for once ut a very ther, with morning mediately, lore easily 1 ignorant 3d that his who was hat by his ^al Island, stant from ss ; but in to perish 'ounded, at enipest. 1 said to my ety during 1G7 the time that T had enjoyed a profound sleep the past night, T, in my turn, would do the same for them. We were all much more inclined to believe M. Lion than the other; and we hen:ged him to remain on deck with me till the break of day. It Avas a very fine starlight night, without the moon ; but there was a clearness all the night in the heavens like a twilight, to make it possible to distinguish at a consideralde distance. M. Lion, having phiced a seaman on the poop of tlie ship to look out continually a-licad, oh, heavens ! what was our joy when 1his sailor, towards two o'clock in the morning of the 12tli of September, cried to us that he saw land. I ran there with M. Lion, and in less than ten minutes we saw it very distinctly at a distance of about thrc e hundred toises. They innnediately tacked about to port the helm, and I descended (juickly into the saloon to convey the good news to my comrades, awakening them ps agreeably as they luid done me the night before. When it was great daylight,^ Fremont, wlio had already made one voyage to Louis- hourc pretended to recognise this land perfectly as Indieinie, a settlement of the Royal Isle, about six leagues noi-th of Louis' tourg; and he bore towards the south. Having all reason to believe that we should easily reach Louisbourg, in the course of the day, we got on our things, holding ourselves ([uite ready to land ; tut at three o'clock in the afternoon, being at the entry of a port which Fremont took for the port, so long time ardently desired, he cried to a boat which passed near to us, if this was not the poi't of Louisbourg? Tliey answered by demanding the name of the ignorant sot who commanded the ship who mistook Louisbourg for the port of Toulouse, a settlement about twenty leagues to the south of Louisbourg. Thus they knew but too late, that it Avas the port of Louisbourg, which we saw in the morning, but which a fatal destiny bad put a blind before Fremont's nyct^, and which drove us to despair. I insisted much Avith Montalam- bert to land at the port of Tcnlouse Avitli our detachmenl, 1G8 and make the road bybnd; but Fremont iiffriglitcned him l)y declaring that if he took that course, he woukl be respon- sible for the cargo. We were in the meantime quite in a condition to make it, viewing the vile state of the ship and the danger to Avhich we were exposed, if we were driven for- Avard by an adverse wind. In short, having throughout the whole night fine weather, and a light favourable wind, avo entered into the port of Louisbourg the next morning, the 13th of September, to the great astonishment of all the in- habitants of that city, who believed that we had jierishcd. A small vessel left at the same time that we did from Rochellc, on board of which there were embarked Madame Ilagette and two officers of the colony, which had had a passage of fifty days in place of sixty and sixteen, that we were on the sea, had reported to them the bad state of our ship ; and the quays were swarming with people who looked with sur])rise and admiration at the dilapidated state of the '"Iphigenie," coming in front of us to congratulate us on our fortunate deliverance. The next day, the crew of our vessel made a procession quite naked, and having nothing but their shirts on their backs, all the way t'i the church, where grand mass was chanted, without sparing any expense, in conse- quence of their vows during the storm. They wished to take back the " Iphigenie " to France, but the crew having com- plained to the Admir.'ilty, they caused her to be inspected, aiul she was condemned immediately to be cut in pieces.* * Wc were a long time at Louisbourg before being informed of the liowcrful patronage of the "Iphigenie." Roderick was in partnership with M. Prevot, commissary of ortbiancc at the Royal Isle, and then with M. P( o, (irst comniissioiicr of the marine chamber. Hence it is not astonishing that the inspectors at Rochcfort shut their eyes to the condition of the ships, which they freighted for the king ; and the unfortunate sailors would have l)een obliged to return to France in this rotten ship, if the officers of the admiralty had not had more uprightness and humanity than the owners, wlio, siii)posing the "Iphigenie" sunk to the bottom of the sea, would have had nothing lost but the ship and cargo, tho whole being insured to their full value, perhaps even to a profit. What monstors does the love of gain produce ! ■ 2 ica ed bim respon- itc in a ihip und Mill for- lout the ind, Avo iiig, tlic 1 the iu- hod. A loclicllc, Ilagettc issiigc of were on ur .ship ; ked Avitii c of the LIS on our 3ur vessel but their ere graiul in conse- nd to take I'ing coni- inspected, leces.* rnicd of the uorship with ithM. P( % )nishiug that of the ships, s would have jiVicors of the tho owners, ,, woulil have ired to their luvo of gain As to Fremont, who had not ceased to give us his imper- lincnce during the whole voyage, the first time that he landed on tho shore, I caused him make another procession, along the whole length of the (juay, Avith cudgel strokes, to the great divertiser^ent of all the corps of ollicers of the Royal Isle, but above all to the great satisfaction of my companions of the voyage, who had partaken daily with myself of his fool- ishness and insolences. This Avas a laughable scene. He drcAV at first his SAVord, but Avhcther it Avas that he feared that I should break the blade of it Avith my stick, Avhich Avas very thick and Aveighty, or Avhether that he dreaded receiving the strokes upon his face every time that I lifted the baton, he made a half turn to the right, presenting to me his shoul- ders, Avith the best grace in the Avorld, to receive them, Avhich cei-tainly ought to have felt the force of them for a long time. I have alAA^ays seen im})ertiuence and coAvardice inse- parably together ; for a man truly brave is inoffensive, and nev^er insults any one, although violent Avhen people do him injuries. M. Coppinot, staff-major of Louisbourg, Avho saAv us at the beginning, retired aside to leave me at liberty, and did not return to order me to give up, until he believed that P^'emont had got enough. I applied the strokes Avith a great deal of force and Avith good Avill, as he Avas the cause of all the bad blood Avhich Ave had in this long and painful voyage, by concealing from us at Rochelle the miserable condition of his vessel, so thoroughly rotten that they Avould have been able to pierce the timbers with their fingers. Before a year's sojourn at Louisbourg, I Avas plainly con- vinced of the folly I ha^ w^ .jitted in accepting a connuissioa of cnsigncy, by my siu < ■■■•"■ .o the order of M. Puysieulx, and by the hope of patronage. The despatches of the court having arrived, there AA'^as no mention in them of my promo- ti(m, cud M. Puysieulx having ([uitted the department of foreign affairs, his successor, M. de St. Contest, had not im- mediately put me on the list of annual allowances granted by i ..iti^te 170 Ilis Majesty to the Scotch in the suite of Prince Charles Edward. What a stranjxe lot ! Having boon attached to the artillery, with my company dnring the expedition in Scotland, ill a fixed escort, although my commission of captain did not make mention of that appointment, Prince Edward, in the statement which he gave to the Court of France of his offi- cers, having given me the title of captain of artilleiy, I received twelve hundred livres in 1746 ; I had it augmented in 174i) to two thousand some hundred livres ; and in 1751 I found myself at Louisbourg, the only one of the Scotch fidly re- duced to an Ensign, through the ignorance of M. Rouille of military affairs, who had sent to the Royal Isle incompetent officers to occu])y the vacant companies and lieutenancies, wliile he denied me the justice of ratifying my commission of captain by Prince Edward, which the Count of Argenson had conceded to all my comrades, not having, at the same time, but four hundred and twenty-four livres per annum, which did not suffice for paying my lodging in the most mis- erable garret of Louisbourg. Blind Fortune moves itself in a singular manner, and drives ns in spite of ourselves to the lot which she has destined for ns. If I have not succeeded in procuring for myself a livelihood to the end of my days, I cannot accuse myself of an error in judgment, in the means that I employed for attaining it ; for when I recall all the past, I do not see that I could have been able to act other- wise than I have done ; and if it Avcre to do over again, I would follow the same illusions, as havinf^; the appearance of being the most reasonable. Man does not know to judge and take the best possible coiu'se, under appearances the most clearly favourable, to conduct him to the results which he proposes to himself, if by effects, whimsical and impos- sible to foresee, the road he takes, founded upon probability, appears to be the best for conducting to the result, turns out quite the contrary, what can he do but look upon him- self as a grain of sand driven by Chance, that unjust 171 tyrant wliicli governs and disposes at hh caprice all the actions of men. The climax of the misery which must necessarily actually pursue me even to the end of my days, and which it is beyond the power of fortune itself to remedy now at my age, was to have consented to take a commis- sion of ensigncy in 1750 under the reiterated promises of M. Puysieulx, to watch continually to procure me a company without delay ; M. Rouille being then, according to all a}i- pearance, the only minister of all the Courts of Europe Avho <;ould have disgraced the commission of Prince Edward, by thu i degrading a captain of his Scottish army, the progress of wdiich against the whole united troops of England produced the astonishment and admiration of all Europe. How could I fail to have had confidence in the promises of M. Puysieulx after his having given me proofs the most con- vincing of his esteem and good graces ? He had given me in 1749 two thousand two hundred livres from the funds granted to Scotchmen ; and this minister was so well disposed in my favour, that if I had demanded of him a permanent situation of five hundred livres per annum out of this fund, he would have granted it to me readily. Miglit it not naturally be l)elieved, that the desire which I had shown to render my youth serviceable to the king and the country, deserved much rather rewards than punishments .' Is it an equal merit in a man to pass his days at Paris in idleness and pleasure, as I woidd have been able to do Avitli my pension on the Scot- tish list, or to embrace a situation the most painful, like that of a military man, who performs well his duties ; exposed continually to dangers of all kinds, his body overwhelmed with excess of fatigues, and his constitution ruined by bad nourish- ment, joined to a thousand other inconveniences which necessarily follow the hard work of war ? Coidd I have ever imagined that in the service of France one would see lazy ollicers, who do no other service but pillage and rob the king, and being enriched by rapine, are received with open 172 arms in the bureau at Versailles ; at the same lime that the soil of a pastry cook, and another son of a hairdresser, are made to pass right over ofliccrs who have served with dis- interestedness, who have only occupied themselves continually for the good of the service, and to render themselves useful i* I confess that I could have never been able to form an idea of the service of France, such as 1 have experienced it ; having always believed that honour, sentiments, and a great knowledge of the military art, were the only means of suc- ceeding in any service of the world. M. Ilerbiers having obtained leave from the Court to be re- lieved, the king's vessel "Happy," commanded by the Chevalier Caumont, was sent to Louisbourg with the Count de Raimond, to replace him in the government of the Royal Isle, and to bring him back to France. Seeing the forgetfulness and ne- glect of my patrons to procure me a suitable situation, joined to the impossibility of being able to live at Louisbourg upon four hundred and twenty-four livres of salary, this worthy and gentlemanly man, who had received me into his friendship, having taken upon himself to cause me to enter into an agree- ment with my new governor, to return with him to Europe in the "Happy," obtained at the same time the permission of M. Caumont for me to embark at once ten or twelve days before the vessel should sail, in order to repair the bad fare which I had had during a year at Lo lisbourg, which ordinarily consisted during the winter solely of cod-fish and hog's lard, and during the summer, fresh fish, bad rancid salt butter, and bad oil. Cross adventures were familiar to me, without fortune ever having mixed with them the fortunate ! Tw^o hours after I had gone on board, at the instant that we were about to place ourselves at table for supper, the vessel was almost blown up in the air ; and in a little, if there had been the least wind, we would have never been able to avoid that dis- mal fate. A vessel at anchor beside the "Happy" had taken * Messieurs Borrangor et Coutereau. 173 fire, latlsn with rum and oil, and in an instant the ship was all in flames, like the great fire of a furnace. All the ships' boats of the port were collected together quickly with grap- pling irons to haul back the ship on fire, and make her get to a side, beyond the reach of communicating the fire to others; but it was with difRcnlty that we were saved, this ship having passed alongside our board quite close by. If the grappling Irons had been aAvanting, we were gone.* We being replaced at table as soon as the danger was passed, the dear aiul worthy man, M. Ilerbiors, told us that during the time that this catastrophe lasted, ho could not help thinking continually of me, how it should ha])pen luifortunately for me to embai-k precisely at the point of time to encoiuiter death. We sailed from Louisbourg in the month of August, ITol, and we arrived in fifty days in the bay of Rochelle, having experienced in the passage but one squall of wind, which endured forty-eight hours, and which alarmed greatly the officers of the ship ; but as it was very far below for the most part those which I had experienced the year before, in the " Jphigenie, ' the vessel being good and in a condition to resist, I was not otherwise disquieted than by the interruption which it occasioned to our good cheer ; for while it lasted it was impossible to cook, and we were reduced to ba^con, with biscuits, in place of fresh bread.f * It is incredible tlic disorder that prevailed in the vessel duriuf^- this alarm. Some crying to let j>o the cable, others to cut it, one heard a hun- dred voices with diffei'ciit orders, and nobody doing anything, the crew not knowing whom to obey. It appears to me that if I commanded a vessel in such imn.inent danger with a pair of pistols before me, I should cause per- fect silence bo observed, to enable the orders < the captain to be heard and executed. "t* There were twenty officers on board the "Happy," whicli carried sixty four guns, and one above all called Bordet, a great sailoi", but a great drunkard, and always tipsy from seven o'clock in the morning ; the others were very different from him, and had so great a deference for him ami confidence in his knowledge, that they made him mount upon the deck, to command the working of the 'dp even during a gale of wind, but nut being steady on his legs, they caused liim sit don'u upon an arm chair, from :; >' 174 Having arrived at Paris, I did my best to get myself re- instated npon the list of bounties granted to the Scotchmen of the suite of Prince Edward, being then well persuaded of the great folly I had been guilty of in quitting it ; but M. St. Contest always replied to all my patrons, that they ought to break the neck of this young man, who would be able to rise in the service. Seeing my shuaI hope of success, I turned all my efforts to get a company ; and INI. Rouille was spiritedly solicitous in my favour, through M. Puysieulx, Prince Con- Htantine of Rohan, now Cardinal, the Prince Montauban his brother, Lord Thomoud, and by Lord Marechal, who was the friend of ray uncle in Russia, and then ambassador at Paris of the King of Prussia. If I had had then as perfect a know- ledge of cabinets as I have since had by experience, I should have been much better able to succeed, with much less pa- tronage ; but I did not then know all the power of clerks, tiu; beaten tracks which it was necessary to follow in order to obtain anything, and the irrcsistable assistance of petticoats, which forces and opens all the barriers to fortune. Knowing even this marvellous key, through which to obtain all, well founded or ill founded, I never found myself the better of it. M. Rouille gave them all the assurances possible to grant their request in my favour, and M. de la Porte assured me at the same time that I should find my commission waiting mo whence he gave forth his orders like an Emperor on his throne. It is Incrccl- iblo the magnificence of the table on board the French men-of-war, served with all the elegance that it is possible to do on land, which the captains of English vessels would never be able to imitate, for as soon as they receive orders to sail with the first favourable wind, of which they render an account to the Admiralty, which they do daily in all the jiorts of England, they arc not allowed to remain longer, as the French ships are obliged to do, some times during tlirec weeks, to wait for provisions to the table ; and the English captains arc often sufficiently unfortunoto as to be obliged to con- tent themselves with salt beef and bacon like the sailors, with this difference, that the captains have the choice of the pieces. It is true that the Com- missioners of the Admiralty take great care that the provisions of the ships should be of good (luaiity, well conditioned, and in good case. 175 at Louisboiirg on my arrival there. This minister sent me at the end of May, an order to depart for Rochfort ; and M. St. Contest having given me a supply to defray in part the ex- pense of my voyage, 1 proceeded thither immediately, hut with no confidence in their promises, for I had believed the same before, in the preceding year, and once deceived, I with ditriculty relied upon them ; but I could not see any other course to follow but return to Louisbourg. If I had been possessed of money, it is not doubtful that I should have then quitted France to seek for service elsewhere ; but the defi- ciency of money formed chains impossible to sever, binding continually to an unfortunate man his unlucky fate, and this is one way that fortune takes to overwhelm and immolate its victims. I embarked at Rochelle towards the end of June, 17r)2, on board the " Sultan," a merchant vessel, of 300 tons, freighted for the king, and commanded by M. Roxallc, a man of spirit and education, very gentlemanly, and altogether u contrast to Fremont ; he, and three other passengers on board, M. Pensence, capt.iin at Royal Isle, M. Lory, an officer of Canada, and M. Gaville, son of the commissary of Rouen, who Avas stationed at Louisbourg, having been before in the French Guards. We had a very long and very annoy- ing passage, owing to bad wcatlun- and contrary wind, which prevailed almost continually without interruption, having been twenty-four days at sea. I believe that it was impos- sible for the elements to form a tempest more frightful tlian that which w^e had in the " Iphigcnic " on the IGth of September, 1750 ; but we experienced another still more furious on the 2nd of September, in the "Sultan," of which M. Roxalle, who had passed forty years of his life at sea, had never seen one equal to it. To such a degree had this tem- pest destroyed the tackling of the ship, that he left it on his return to Rochelle. If it had happened to us in the " Iphi- genie," that rotten ship never would have been able to resist wi 17G it for a moment, jiiul wc Avoukl certainly have pcrislicd witli- out remedy. But the " Sultan " was a new ship, which had not been before but one voyage to the coast of Guinea. The description which M. Roxalle set down in his journal of this tempest, having appeared to me curious, I ohall enter a copy of it, which behold. "From Friday at mid-day, 1st, to Satur- day mid-day, 2nd September, 1752, the wind S.S.E. to S.W., till eight o'clock at night, steering from AV".N.W. two degrees Avest, making in this route sixteen leagues ; the wind then at S.W., and increasing, we crowded all our sails, and placing from the try-sail to the fore-mast, pulled the mizen-mast l)elow. The wind always continued to augment with a violence beyond all expression, the sea being horribly rough and blazing, passing over ns, seemed as if in burning ilamcs. I never, in my lifetime, saAV such frightful weather, and, at the same time, so appalling. We have always, with the help and succour of the Lord, sustained aloft our ship, comporting itself as well as we could have hoped in this terrible weather. And not daring to bear away undei* mizen-mast for fear of being engulphcd by the sea if we had a wind abaft. At ten o'clock the violence of tlie wind drove our main-sail to the wind, we having, thank God, had time to splice it to the rope's end. She tossed much, but Ave saved her. We had the yard pulleil npon the socket. At an hour and a-half after midnight, the wind carried off our mizen-mast. She began to glide by the edge of the sheet, the rest folloAved. There only renuiiiied but the foot ropes. The jib, the false jib, the pcroguet, would have shared the same fate, although they were very well secured; the violence of the wind having shattered and carried them aAvay, and the yard-arm had been broken through tlu^ middle ; hence this last sail being gone it Aveighed doAvn cruelly our mizen-mast. I wished to cut it ; the hatchet was already lifted up, but the Avind having entirely torn the Avhole syil, Ave had, by the grace of God, preserved our mast. About three o'clock, a bloAV of the sea stove in the Avindow 177 of the starbojird of tlio grciit Ciibiii, and sliippcd a great deal of water aboard, falling upon M. J , who was there in his bed. At four o'clock, our rudder was broken ; we put ii capstan on the to}) of the helm in the main cabin to hold it, and we had, tliank God, another bar-arm fixed. At six o'clock in tlie morning, the wind began to be less terrible ; aud soon after it abated. At present (mid-day) we hope the squall of wind is at an end ; but we ought to attribute that the goodness and mercy of God has saved us in the immineut peril in Avhich wc found ourselves involved. May it i)loasc Him to continue, by his abundant grace, to have us in His holy keeping. The half of our fowls Avere found drowned in their cribs. We have had the try-sail since eight o'clock in the evening from N.AV. to N.E." Being lying in my bed in the main cabin, where there was no light, I heard towards midnight the voice of M. Pcn- seiice, who in tumbling, cried out that he was killed. 1 called to him several times, and receiving no answer, I believed that he was dead, or had fainted. As his servant could not help him, having been lamed a little by a similar fall, I got out t)f bed to fetch a lantern in order to be able to assist him, but I was rather surprised to see him upon deck, and distinguish him under the poop, with M. Roxalle, who there held by the beams of the awning with both his hands, when a wave of the sea fell upon my head and made me drink salt water in abund- ance. I returned immediately to the main cabin as I best could, and in great wrath, and having changed my linen and clothes, I returned to bed, fully determined that if Pen- seuce should break his neck a thousand times, I should not budge again. He was an amiable youth, and so pleasant th^t his exclamations sometimes made me laugh, in spite of our hoiTible situation. He had come into France the year preceding to obtain the Cross of St. Louis, with the design of retiring from the service, to live in his OAvn country, and the Court granted it to him on condition that he should come back IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) V / o -k. / MP- i/.x %3 1.0 I.I il.25 ■50 ™=^ 1.4 IIIM 1.6 i V] <p /a m 'm^ 'w . % ^ / / % /^ Photographic Sciences Corpomtion 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, NY. 14580 (716) 872-4503 iV ^v ^N- ^ ■K^ s \ ^ '<> ">»^*^ MP.' k 178 to receive it at Loiiisbourg. During the danger, Pcnsence repeated incessantly — " Cursed and execrable cross ; if I had been able to foresee the horrible position in Avliich we find our- selves, all the orders of Europe should have never tempted me to embark. What have I to do with this miserable cross? Would I not have been able to live peaceably and happily in Gascony without it ! " In short, as long as the storm lasted, these were the same lamentations and regrets. The second drenching which I had, through the windows of the great cabin, despoiled me altogether, being obliged to remain with my clothes dripping, for the wave having fallen upon my mattress at the same time as upon my bed, the wliole was as much steeped in sea water as the wearing apparel that was on my person. A marine officer gave me his cabin, but I was destined not to be in any respect at my ease, during this tempest. Every wave which covered the deck made the water fall continually upon my legs, through a rent which rushed incessantly like the cascade of a river. We arrived at Louisbourg on the 14th of September, after a very long and pnnoyiug passage, owing to the bad weather and contrary winds, which prevailed almost without interrup- tion, which but for that would have been more supportable, by the provisions of all kinds which were provided to us by the shi])owner, M. Pascaut, not at all resembling the shabby things of Roderick, who without doubt imagining that the "Iphigenie" ought naturally to sink to the bottom all at once, believed it unnecessary to be at the exiienso of procuring us any delicacies for the vovago. The bad climate of Louisbourg, Avhere one does not see the sun sometimes for a month ; the extreme misery which you experience fnmi tluat; not having it in your power to pro- cure a morsel of fresh meat at any price whatever ; the society of the ladies of the place very amiable, but having always cards in their hands, my avocations would not per- mit of nitj daily to make one of their parties, all contributed 179 Pcnsence ; if I had 3 find our- r tempted ble cross? liappily in m lasted, he second the great main with upon my 3le was as that was 3in, but I urinii: this made the snt which iber, after d weather interrup- pportable, I to us by be shabby ; that the II at once, ►curing us js not see ny which 'er to pro- iver ; the Lit having not per- )ntributcd to cause me acquire a taste for reading and studying pliilo- sophy, very seldom going out of my room except to attend to my duty, of which I acquitted myself with the most scrupu- lous exactitude, or to go once or twice a week to fish for trout with my servant, St. Julien, who was an excellent Jack-of- al'-trades, expert for furnishing my table, bringing generally eight or ten dozen of trouts, in two hours fishing with the line, the streams in the neighbourhood being very full of fish. Puysegur, Polybius, with the Commentaries of Folard, Feu- guiere, Vegetius, the Commentaries of Caesar, Turenne, Mon- tecuculi, Prince Eugene, Josephus, the Roman History, and Vauban, and other books of the same description, served me for killing the time, to dispel the evils of my position, not having obtained my promotion, but only the place of inter- preter to the King, who granted me four hundred livrcs of augmentation annually, and to dissipate the dismal ideas which would have o.herwise plunged me in despair. I had a small garden in front of the windows of my chamber, which St. Julien had cleared to serve me for relaxation, Avhen I was fatigued, and my eyes weakened by reading. I there enjoyed a true and perfect satisfaction from the esteem and friendsliip of all my comrades, which was not an easy matter to secure, for the corps of the Royal Isle, composed of more than a hundred officers, was divided into three factions, the ancients of the country ; those who had come from Canada, and the reformed officers of France, who had their settlement at Louisbourg, and all these three mutually detested each other, and were continually quarrelling; but having entered the corps by declaring that I would not enter into their cabals, Avhich did not mix me up, in any degree, in their disputes and animosities, so that I chose my friends on the whole where I found them to my taste, only taking my part to defend my- self against those who wished to insult me, or who soiiglit to embroil me ^'n a quarrel ; thus by the strict neutrality, which I always observed, I had always the good-wih of every one, 180 and I heard the horrors which tliese officers, eternally in discord, came to tell me daily, the one against the other, without ever having a bias for one side or another, hearing them without answering them. M. the Count of Raimond, who shewed me daily marks of his esteem and favour, having asked my promotion, they sent me a lieutenancy in 1754, by which, with the situation of interpreter to the King, I had more pay than the cap- tains, but I was not flattered by it. Seeing how much I had reason not further to allow myself to be deceived by promises, I took the resolution of repassing into France this year, and of obtaining a company or seeking service else- where ; and I regarded this voyage as much more indis- pensable, because I was at variance with the commissary of ordnance since the first year of my arrival at Louisbourg, who, by his assistants in business, was too powerful in the cabinet of the marine, and alwa}s unremitting against the governors, M. Herbierj and Raimond, who incessantly com- plained of him to the Court, but in vain, respecting his rob- beries of magazines and other knaveries. lie was a finished rascal, vain and proud as a peacock, of the most obscure birth, who had a pretty amiable wife, of whom he was jealous to the last degree. He took every opportunity to thwart me and give me pain, without effect, at Louisbourg, for by acquitting myself of my duties, with all the correctness possible, I always preserved the esteem and friendship of my superiors. Fortune was not wanting to complete my misery, but to join her hatred and her hostility to my other sufferings, by tiie wretched climate and the bad fare. Thus being overcome, 1 liad the melancholy satisfaction tliat she could not become worse.* At length the capture of Louisbourg in 1758, de- * M. James Provost came to make himself bo abhorred 1)y all the officers, not only of the corps of tho Royal Isle, but also of the regiments of Artois and Bourgogne, no officers of which, from tho commanders to the ensign ever went to his house. When tho English fleet appeared before 181 ternally iu the otliei', er, hearing [aily marks otion, they e situation Q the cap- w much I eceived by France this rvice clse- lore indis- imissary of iOuisbourji:, I'ful in the igainst the antly com- ig his rob- ! a finished cure birth, lous to th(! rt me and acquitting possible, I ' superiors, but to join igs, by tlie vercome, 1 lot become 1758, de- d by all the regimonts of .ndcrs to the >eared before livered me from a purgatory where I had suffered evils of every description, and not choosing to expose myself to be a prisoner of the same regiments of Lee, Warburton, and Lascelles, who had been our prisoners in Scotland at tlie Battle of Gladsmuir (Prcstonpans), in 1745, after the capitu- lation of that town, I saved myself in Acadia, and from that in Canada. Hostilities having commenced in Acadia in 1754, when I was upon the point of departing for Europe, as they proclaimed an approaching war, it was not proper for me to absent myself in that critical time, and I did not think more than of continuing there, hoping by my zeal and my services to obtain my promotion, which I had never been able to effect from the supineness and weak efforts of my patrons, who were sufficiently powerful to have secured for me a more favour- able situation, if they had chosen to agitate in my favour, as I had reason to hope from their promises, of which I was the dupe, through my credulity. Having had a wherry and fifty Canadians at Miremachie, in Acadia, to conduct forty Englisli prisoners to Quebec, who were among the officers of infantry, and captains of merchant ships, I departed immediately with- Louisbourg, in 1757, all the troops marched out upon ,the instant to man the intrenchmonts of Ances in the Bay of Gabainis, iu order to oppose their landing, and M, Guerin, our surgeon-general, having given M. St. Julien a recipe for a sling, some spirits, and other things necessary for dressing wounds, Prcvost replied to M. St. Julien, commandant by seniority of all our troops, "that there was nothing at all in the king's magazines, that if the English forced our intrenchments, it fell to them to take care of our wounded, and if wo repulsed them they would have time to look after them." M, St. Julien reported immediately this affair with his complaints to M. Bois de la Mothe, who at the instant landed at nine o'clock at night, proceeded directly to Provost's house, and having threatened to set it on lire, and to send him back to France, if everything which the store contained was not ready by the next day, in the morning, all was furnished, to the great disappointment of this inhuman monster, who wished from his hatred to all the officers, to make these bravo people perish for want of assistance, and he wept tlu'ough rage. Ho fnmd the means of making himself equally despised and detested l>y all the ofllcers of the ship, and M. tho Prince of Listenois always treated him as tho last of miscreants. ' 182 out resting more than two clays. In entering the Gulf of St. Lawrence, we perceived an English squadron^ which gave us chase, and we escaped from being taken by their frigates by saving ourselves in the small harbours, of which there are a great many along this coast. This was a fortunate discovery, for I found M. Echaffaud at the entry of the river, with five ships of the line, wliich were ordered to be ready to set sail for Europe, who, ignorant thai there was an English fleet iu the Gulf, Avould have fallen into their hands ; and to avoid them he passed by the straits of Belle Isle. I was welcomed very favourably iu Canada, above all by M. Levis and M. Montcalm, who immediately accorded to me their esteem, confidence, and good graces, iu a distinguished manner, and M. Bigot, the commissary, the contrast of Prevost, wlio made it a pleasure to facilitate and solace the sufferings of unfortunate military men, gave me from the stores a complete outfit, for I was quite naked, having left my rags at Louisbourg, without having taken any other thing with me, but two shirts iu my pocket. M. Levis took me for his aide-de-camp, at the commencement of the campaign of 1759 ; and not having a sufficiency of engineers for the im- mense extent of ground which our camp at Quebec occupied, a front upon the banks of the river of about two leagues, to fortify, from the River of St. Charles as far as the Fall Mont- morency, I undertook to trace and conduct the intreuchments, redoubt, and battery on the left of our camp, where M. Levis commanded, on condition that I should execute them agree- ably to my own ideas, and that the engineers shoidd not in- terfere with them ; so my own personal vanity was much flattered when the English made their descent, and attacked on the 31st of July, the works which I had constructed, and were repulsed with the loss of five hundred men. I was ordered at the same time to examine the prisoners, and to translate into French their depositions. My occupations were so multifarious that I never had an hour's sleep iu the 183 ic Gulf of vhicli gave frigates by there are a discover}', ', witli five to set sail isli fleet in d to avoid lOvc all by (led to me tiugiiislied )ntrast of solace the from the ig left my her thing ok me for npaigu of or the im- occupied, eagues, to "all Mont- iichments, M. Levis em agree- Id not in- Y&s much attacked iistructed, men. I uers, and cnpations !ep iu the twenty four ; and it being impossible for M. Levis to furnish me with either coverlet, bed-clothes, or mattress, having left mine at Carillon, I always slept, quite dressed upon chairs or upon boards, in M. Levis's bedchamber, without ever daring to take off my clothes, during tho campaign of 1759, but to change my linen, and very rarely my boots, except to change my stockings. It was my usual in tlie mornings at the break of day to be exposed to cannon shots and musketry, in visiting with M. Levis our advanced posts. Tliese journeys occurred always the same, to carry the orders of M. Levis, or Avith four hundred i)ioncers, and the nights equally employed, to answer orders Avhich were arriving continually, by allowing M. Levis to sleep ut least, unless there was anything of im- portance, or to Avrite de})Ositions, or orders. Every one told me that it would be necessary to have a body of iron to be able to resist it ; but there Avere three things that sustained and encouraged me in my overwhelming fatigue : my ambi- tion to render myself useful in the service of the king, and to rise in it ; my friendship and attachment for M. Levis pers(jnally; and the uncertainty of my fate, if I was taken by the English, many regiments of which had been our prisoners in Scotland, in 1745, made me look upon the pre- servation of this colony the same as my own proper welfare. Pecuniary interest had )io part in it ; for not only did I con- stantly refuse the contract of fascines and gabions, Avliich had yielded to another officer tAventy or thirty thousand livres, but I preferred ahvays that the sergeants Avho served me as pickers should receive from the commissary the payments according to my statements, Avith orders immedhitely to distribute by them- selves the money to the pioneers. Having husbanded for the king the half hours, and even to the days of those avIio Avcre absent on leave, by the roll-calls, Avliich I made four times a-day, this Avould have amounted to a considerable sum Avhich one Avould have had it in his poAver to ai)propriate to himself, according to the then custom of the place, if I had had less 184 of probity, straightforwardness, and sentiments ; for four hun- dred ])iouc!ers which I had at twenty sols per day, Avouhl not have fallen short sometimes of a fourth by the roll-call. M. Levis was sent at the beginning of August to command to Montreal, u[)on a false rumour that a corps of English troops were endeavouring to i)cnetrate into the higher districts of the country ; and my nortu. mteau was already despatched the night before with the baggage, when M. Montcalm came to his house, at the moment wo were going to depart, to beg that he would leave me with him, on account of the knowledge that I had of all our posts to the Fall of Montmoi'ency, and the plans of defence for that quarter. He consented to it ; and as I loved M. Levis with a sincere attachment, I quitted him Avitli very great regret, and tears in my eyes, desiring anicntly to continue in company with him. I accompanied him until we came up with the baggage, in order to bring- back again my portmanteau, and I remained with him to sleep all night, and the next day I returned to M. Montcalm's to continue with him my functions of aide-de-camp. This great man, worthy of a bettor fate, said to me that he knew well the sacrifice I had made in quitting M. Levis, but that I should have no reason to repent it. So he constantly testified to me the same affection and friendship, as if I had been his son. But I repented greatly this chnngc by his premature death, for but for that I would not have knoAvn so particularly his rare merit, and had to deplore his loss all my life. The consequences of the death of M. Montcalm, who was killed at the battle of Quebec, the 13th of September, or my usual destiny precipitated me uselessly into a horrible per- plexity, from which I escaped in the end, nearly suffering the same lot. Having finished the campaign of 1759 quicker than Ave had reason to expect, I decided on returning to France Avitli M. Cannon in the fall of the season. This voyage Avas essentially necessary for me, the more so that I found myself the oldest lieutenant of the force in Canada, 185 four liim- ivould not ■nil. command " Engliyli r districts 3spatclied ilm came rt, to beg nowledgc iiicy, and ed to it ; [ quitted desiring )mpauied to bring I to sleep : aim's to ). This he knew ut that I ■ testified been his L'emature 'ticularly who was !r, or my Ible por- jring the quicker I'ning to 1. This that I Canada, which, alternated with that of the Royal Isle by my com- mission of 1754, and as there were three vacant com- panies of troops in that colony, I thought I had a right naturally to expect by my services to obtain one of these companies. But M. the Marquis of Vaudreuil refused me obstinately my leave, in spite of the requests of M. Levis to obtain it, being afraid apparently that 1 would give the Court a true detail of this campaign, which decided without remedy, the loss of Canada to France. In the meantime, he gave me his word of honour that he would render me justice, and that I should have a company; but insisting always on my getting my leave to go to France, he answered me that if I persisted in seeking my leave I should get nothing. In short, in 17 GO, the list of promotions having arrived, I found these companies disposed of, in favour of three officers much junior to me by many years, and no ways distinguished by their services, one of the three T)eing the son of a hairdresser to the king, and, in consequence, the protege of the commissary. What a service is that of the French for a stranger ! I was not at ease at Montreal, while they were settling the general capitulation of the Colony, in the uncertainty of the treatment that I might receive from the English, and having nothing to depend upon from the Marquis of Vaudreuil, it was time that I should bethink me of getting myself out of this bad affair as I best could, my situation having become as embarrassed and perilous as it was after the battle of Cullodcn. M. Young, colonel of an American regiment, found himself at Montreal, having been made prisoner in the battle which M. Levis had gained in the spiing near Quebec. He was cousin-german to my brother-in-law, M. Rollo ; besides, a person very considerable in the English army by his merits, talents, spirit, and character the most amiable ; and all my hopes of being able to escape the evil fate that threatened me were founded upon him. I went to stay at his house, while the French and English generals were negotiating i'v 186 the terms of the capitulation, and there came M. Mills, aide-de-camp to General Amherst, with two other English ofllcers, to sup also at the house of Colonel Young, in Availing there for the answer of M. Vaiidrcuil to the propositions of General Andierst. I was very much disconcerted at supper ; for M. Levis having given me the name of the Chevalier de Montague, Avhile M. Young always culled me that of INIon- tague, the Ladies Erie, daughters of the niorohant in whose liouse we lodged, called me always by my right name ; and this was so often repeated, thnt I perceived the English olficers had remarked it, and 1 made a sign to M. Young tha^ I wished to sj)eak to him in private. Having retired into a closet off the room, I said to him that it api)eared necessary to con- fide quite plainly my secret to M. Mills ; and M. Young having approved my advice, called him immediately to join us. I told him plainly my situation, that I had been with Prince Edward in Scotland ; and I Legged of him to tell me if he thought I ought to wait upon M. Amherst. At the same time M. Young ijiformed M. Mills of our relationship, and of the part which he had taken warmly in my interests, recommending me strongly to his good offices with the General, and to sound his disposition in regard to me, in order that he might give us information of these next day in the morning. This aide-de-camp answered us that General Amherst, being of a character so peculiar that nobody was ever able to pene- trate his intentions, he Avould much better not speak to him of it, the more especially as he would only remain a few days at Montreal, and that M. IMurray, who would command on his departure, would be much more tractable. He added that if the General should take a violent part against me, he would know it immediately, and he gave us his word of honour to inform us of it, in good time, to enable me to save myself in the woods. I was in a terrible alarm for some days after the English were in possession of the town. Some one came and knocked ^I. Mills, • English u waiting sitions of t supper; jvalicr tic of :Mon- in whose Line ; and 5h oificers ig tha+ I io a closet y to oon- [. Young y to join ccn Avith to tell me At the itionship, interests, General, r that he morning, rst, being ! to pene- k to him few days mand on dded that he would lonour to myself in i English I knocked 187 rudely at the door of my room towards seven o'clock in the morning, and having o])ened it, 1 remained stui)ilied on seeing a great young man in English uniform, about six feet high, who demanded of me if that was I, calling me by my own name, to whom he had the honour of speaking. Although 1 believed that he was come with a detachment to apinvhend me, seeing the impossibility of being able to escai)e, I answered him. "Yes," and asked hiiu at the same time what he wanted, lie told me that he was my near relation, of the same name as myself, son of Lady Girth ead, whom I saw in passing when I entered England with the army of Prince Edward, that he was a captain of artillery, and tliat before rejoining his cannoneers at (Quebec, the first day by water, he had coine to (jffer me his services, begging me to embark with him in his vessels of artillery, where I ayouUI not be reco"-- nized, to remain with him in the house, which he had fur- nished at Beaufort, near Quebec, where he lived with a mistress, until our troops shoidd embark in the transport sliips. I answered him that I was very sensible of his obliging offer, but that i would not for all the things in the world eiH\i"-e him lightly in so mischievous an adventure, and I advised him inmiediately to go to the house of General Murray, Amherst having departed, to tell him ingciuiously that ho had found at Montreal a near relation, who had been in the rebellion of Scot- laud, presently in the service of France ; that he had a great desire to testify his civilities to him by taking him with him to his house at Beaufort, but that he Avould not do anythino- without his permission ; asking him at the same time how he ought to conduct himself in that respect. lie went off on the instant, and returned at the end of two hours to tell me that General Murray had answered him "that he knew for a long time as well as the whole English army, that I was in Canada ; that I might remain quietly at his house without having any- thing to fear on his part ; that if I did not seek him he would not seek me any farther ; and that he offered me cordially his 'I 188 compliments." INIy pnrticular capitulation being thus very favourably concluded, T inunediatoly left Montreal to ro])air to IJeaufort, and I passed there three weeks, waiting the embark- ment of our troops, wilJi nil the ngreeableness possible; always in feasting, and in companies of English otlicers, eveiy one with his mistress, giving {Uternatcly 'eat banquets at the house of my relative, as well as in theirs, where I was always of the parties ; these officers showing mo every sort of attentions and civilities, with a care continually of calling me M. Montague, although they knew very Avell my history, none of them being surprised that I spoke their language so well. I had great reason to praise their conduct in regard to me. An Englishman asked mo one, day the name of the general officer, mounted upon the black horse, who had passed their army at the moment after the defeat of our army, the 13th of September the year preceding. He added that they aimed at his horse in order to dismount him, and make him prisoner ; but that it turned out that his horse was invulnerable, to escape the thousand musket shots which assailed him on all sides. I answered him that it was myself ; that chance had conducted me there without any desire or ambition to attain that salutation, Avorthy in effect of a general officer, but that their soldiers had not followed their orders, for the dis- (^hargc they had aimed at mo fell in the brushwood, I felt the sound of the balls which passed mo at the height of the horizon, like a handful of pease which they had thrown in my face ; and I showed him my dress, in Avhich a ball had carried a piece of cloth from the shoulder. As the English had a much higher opinion of the Freucli regiments than of the troops of the colony, I embarked in a transport vessel destined for the Regiment of royal Roussillon, Avith my friend M. Poularies, Avho placed mo on the muster roll as an officer of that regiment ; and Ave departed from Quebec the IGth of October, Avith all the transport vessels Avhich the English had furnished us Avith, in terms of the capitulation to convey us 189 to France. Before leaving the river St. Lawrence, wo easily perceived that our ship was old, rotten, and resembling alto- getiier the "Iphigenio"; still we had the hope to keep ourselves afloat, and of having succour in case of need ; but at the end of three days after having left the Gulf, we found our- selves alone, without company, and left to Providence, not being able to proceed so fast as the other vessels ! They left us altogether behind them. The days of All Saints and St. Martin's we had two furious gales of wind at the top of the Azores. Our vessel mtide a flood of water which would have caused us sink to the bottom, if a canvas, which they attached to the end of a rope, had not been plunged into the sea, with a great lump of grease at the handle to block it up, to Avait until good Aveatlicr should allow the carpenter to work at it ; and the ship being open, as the "Iphigenie" had been, they bound it about witli a cable. After these gales of wind we found again a ship of our fleet, in which were M. Mouy, M. DruIIlon, and some other officers of Canada ; and having told them the miserable condition of our vessel, and the danger we were in, expecting at every instant to sink to the bottom, we prayed them earnestly not to part from us. We re- mained together for three days, until another gale of wind separated us. At last we arrived in the roadstead of tlie island of He, the 3rd of December, in the evening, where we anchored at once ; and a pilot came on board to conduct us the next day to Rochclle, which is five leagues from that. As it turned out fine Aveather, the English captain, from the vanity of not letting the bad condition of his sliip be known to his acquaintances, loosed immediately the cable and other things which he had made use of to secure tlie ship. At mid- night the wind began to rise, and became in a very short time a most frightful hurricane. TVe let down in a moment two anchors of the three which we had, and the pilot of the Island of Re, who had a melancholy countenance, at finding himself involved so opportunely in our disastrous adventure, told us <^ 190 that the cable of the third anchor woiikl soon be broken as the others, adding that there was no other way of avoiding perish- ing all souls and goods upon the rocks, with which the island was on all sides surrounded, than to endeavour to make a voluntary shipAvrcck in the river of Maraine, the bottom of which is muddy ; and ho told us that for little if the ship Avould carry sufficient sail to be able to go^'ern her, he hoped to save the life of all by conducting her thither. His salutary advice was immediately followed forthwith by the English captain. We cast out immediately our last cable, but the first sail which they set was in an instant shattered in pieces like sheets of paper ; in the meantime having tried the mainsail, which stood better than the other, he dashed us to the side of the entrance which he proposed to take, and our ship entered the basin like as in a pot of butter, without feeling the least «hock ; they then set the sails to fix as far as it was possible the sliip in the basin, fearing that the Avind coming, might throw us to tii'^. other side upon the rocks, and avc were immediately anchored, having nothing more to fear. The next day in the morning, in a calm sea, I reached the land by means of a ladder and planks, which they had placed on the Quay, the 5tli December, 1760, and after having kissed the ground Avith good heart, I entered into a naA'al hotel, Avhere I found an abundance of excellent oysters and Avhite Avine, fullv determined not to put myself again in the poAver of Neptune. Fortune has not been more faA^ourable to me since my return to France, having always continued her persecutions Avitliout ceasing Avitli an invincible obstinacy ; and there is no appearance at present that she Avill cease to overAvhelm me but by finishing my existence, perhaps from the Avant of the necessaries of life, my lot not being likely to be ameliorated at my age. I can Avell verify AA'hat Artabanes said to Xerxes, Avhen he shed tears, on rcvicAving his innumerable army, at the passage of the Hellespont, by the reflection that in a hundred years there Avould not be one of that great mul- 101 broken as the liding perish- !h the island to make a lie bottom of e ship woiikl aped to save iituiy advice lish captain, he first sail s like sheets Qsail, Avhich side of the entered the [east shock ; 3 the ship in )W us to tiiT T anchor<?d, e morninir, ladder and December, od heart, 1 mdance of not to put titude alive. "But nre we not exposed during life to things more melancholy and pitiable than these? for during the rhort time that he is in the world, there has not been a man so happy as not to have wished many times to die rather than to live.* In fact, diseases and misfortunes disturb the most de- lightful days of life, and are the cause that, moreover, although so short, it is thought long and wearisome. Thus death is to men the wished for refuge of an unhappy life ; and one may say that God, who is immortal, treats us with rigour in giving us life on conditions so anuoying.f" — Herodotus. * Tho joys of life, in the experience of most, if not of all men, I should say, preponderate. — Ed. + Without approving of the last remark of the heathen Historian, wc may observe that the philosophical and thoughtful reflections of the Chevalier throughoiit this work, and particularly in the notes, hitherto un- published, add a valuj to it, which will be duly ai>preciated by every culti- vated mind, and which has certainly not a little relieved the tedium of the labour in the hands of the Translator. — Ed. i snice jny irseeutions there is no whelm me ant of tlie meliorated io Xerxes, ble army, n that in reat mul- C. COUXWALL AND SONS, PRINTKUS AND LITHOGllArHKRS, ABERDEEN. J