LIBRARY 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 SANTA BARBARA 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 MRS. ALFRED W. INGALLS
 
 PERILOUS ADVENTURES, 
 
 REMARKABLE INSTANCES 
 
 COURAGE, PERSEVERANCE, AND SUFFERING 
 
 R. A. DAVENPORT 
 
 ' Wherein I spoke of most disastrous chances, 
 Of moving accidents by flood and field ; 
 Of hair-breadth 'scapes i' th' imminent deadly breach." 
 
 SHAKESPEARE. 
 
 A. L. FOWLE 
 
 NEW YORK 
 IQOO
 
 PUBLISHER S' ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 THE design of this work is to present to the 
 reader such instances of courage, constancy, and 
 perseverance, under circumstances the most peril- 
 ous and appalling, as will most conspicuously show 
 the power of the human mind to triumph over dif- 
 ficulties, and that nothing is to be despaired of 
 where there is self-possession to look danger fear- 
 lessly in the face, and promptly to take advantage 
 of emergencies as they arise. Truth, it has been 
 said, is often more marvellous than fiction, and the 
 realities here exhibited strikingly exemplify the 
 correctness of this remark. 
 
 Each narrative is complete in itself, presenting 
 a finished portraiture of the most prominent actors, 
 and a full account of the events to which it relates. 
 The reader, therefore, will derive much valuable 
 historical information from this volume, in addition 
 to the pleasure experienced in its perusal. 
 
 The publishers would farther state, that the ar- 
 ticles composing this work have been taken from 
 one of a larger size, the most valuable and interest- 
 ing having been selected by the American editor 
 for this object. & & 
 
 H. &B. 
 
 Naf-York, Aug., 1841.
 
 PERILOUS ADVENTURES 
 
 WANDERINGS OF PRINCE CHARLES 
 EDWARD. 
 
 THB adventurous attempt of Prince Charles Ed- 
 ward to recover the throne of his ancestors may 
 be regarded as one of the most remarkable enter- 
 prises of the kind, when we take into account the 
 scantiness of his means at the outset, the success 
 he at first met with, the rapid progress of events, 
 and the sudden and complete reverse of fortune 
 which prostrated his family forever. Landing 
 with only nine followers, in the course of nine 
 short months he gained possession of the capital 
 and part of the kingdom of his early progenitors ; 
 utterly routed a veteran army at Preston Pans ; 
 penetrated, in the depth of winter, nearly two hun- 
 dred miles into England, and to within a hundred 
 and twenty miles of its capital ; effected a retreai, 
 with his forces unbroken, in the face of two armies ; 
 won another victory at Falkirk ; and at last sank 
 beneath outnumbering foes at " pale, red Culloden. 
 where his hopes were drowned." 
 
 When the battle of Culloden had been irrecover- 
 ably lost, the prince, with a party of horse, compo- 
 ed chierly of his counsellors and friends, fled to- 
 wards the River Nairn, which he crossed at the 
 ford of FaHie. Here, about four miles from the 
 scene of his disaster, he rested for a short time ir
 
 10 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 a cottage, and held a sort of council. The result 
 of the deliberation was, that the routed army should 
 be assembled at Ruthven in Badenoch, while ho 
 himself should traverse the country for the purpose 
 of rousing those chieftains who had hitherto kept 
 back, to bring their forces into the field, and make 
 another struggle against the reigning monarch. 
 There were, indeed, some grounds for believing 
 that a stand might yet be made : in the course of 
 a day or two a great part of the defeated troops 
 were rallied at Ruthven ; they held all the passes 
 between Ruthven and Inverness ; though diminish, 
 ed in numbers, they were still full of courage ; were 
 soon re-enforced by clans which had been on their 
 march to join them before the encounter at Cul- 
 loden ; and might expect to be still farther strength- 
 ened by several clans which were absent on leave, 
 and by others which dreaded the barbarity of the 
 conquerors. But, influenced probably by his Irish 
 counsellors, Charles seems to have lost all hope of 
 accomplishing anything with his brave but irregu- 
 lar bands, and, accordingly, at the very moment 
 when they were expecting his orders to take the 
 Held, he addressed to them the disheartening mes- 
 sage that "every man must provide for his own 
 safety in the best manner he could." This was, of 
 course, the signal for a general flight. 
 
 From the River Nairn, meanwhile, Charles had 
 continued his course to Gortuleg, a seat of one 
 of the Erasers. Wishing, in case of pursuit, to 
 divide and mislead the enemy's parties, he is said 
 to have dinected the major part of the gentlemen 
 around him to disperse upon different routes. At 
 Gortuleg Lord Lovat was then residing. Thi
 
 PRINCE CHARLES EDWARD. 11 
 
 wily and unprincipled personage, traitor alike to 
 the cause which he really loved and to that which 
 he had long pretended to espouse, was driven ai- 
 most to madness when he heard that Charles was 
 approaching as a hopeless fugitive. The ruin 
 which he had brought upon himself and his family 
 now stared him in the face, and he broke out into the 
 bitterest execrations, reproaches, and bewailings. 
 Charles, whom Lovat received, however, with out- 
 ward tokens of respect, endeavoured to console 
 him by exciting a hope of better days : " they had," 
 he said, " had two days of triumph over the elec- 
 tor's troops, and he did not doubt they should yet 
 have a third." He at last succeeded, or seemed to 
 succeed, in calming Lovat, and a discussion was 
 entered into respecting his own future movements. 
 Gortuleg was deemed too near to the royal army 
 to be a safe abode for the princely fugitive ; and, 
 therefore, after having rested for two hours, refresh, 
 ed himself, and changed his dress, he continued his 
 flight, accompanied by several of his confidential 
 friends. 
 
 At ten o'clock in the night the prince and his 
 followers quitted Gortuleg, to pursue their rugged 
 and melancholy journey along the shore of Loch 
 Ness. Invergarry, the seat of Macdonnel of Glen- 
 garry, a few miles beyond Fort Augustus, was the 
 refuge they were seeking. They reached it at 
 about five in the morning, but there was no one to 
 give them a hospitable reception. The furniture 
 had been removed, there were no provisions, and a 
 solitary domestic was the only person remaining in 
 the mansion. The fugitives, however, exhausted 
 by a ride of forty miles in their perturbed state of 
 B
 
 12 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 mind, were glad to sleep upon the bare floor. They 
 must have departed without even satisfying their 
 hunger, had not the servant of Alexander Macleod 
 caught two salmon in Loch Garry, on which they 
 dined. This was a foretaste of what the wanderer 
 was destined to endure. At Invergarry he dismiss, 
 ed all his adherents, except Sullivan, O'Niel, and 
 Edward Burke the servant of Macleod. The lat- 
 ter was to serve as his guide, and the prince now 
 disguised himself in Burke's clothes. 
 
 A wearisome journey of seven hours brought the 
 diminished party to the house of Donald Cameron 
 of Glenpean, at Loch Arkeig, where Charles halt- 
 ed, so completely worn out that he dropped asleep 
 while Burke was loosening his spatterdashes. In 
 the morning he resumed his flight to the westward. 
 He stopped at Newboll, where he was liberally en- 
 tertained ; and where, for the first time in five 
 nights, he enjoyed sound repose. He had need of 
 it to strengthen him for the toil he was to encounter. 
 In the expectation of hearing from some of his 
 friends, he vainly waited for a few hours on the fol- 
 lowing day ; but the fear of being overtaken by 
 his enemies again urged him forward. Hitherto he 
 had travelled on horseback ; but he was now com- 
 pelled to give up that accommodation, as his route 
 lay over a chain of high mountains where roads 
 were unknown. The ftigi lives crossed this almost 
 inaccessible ridge, and in the evening reached the 
 head of Loch Morrer, at a place called Oban. A 
 miserable hut, situated on the verge of a wood, and 
 occasionally used for sheep-shearing, was theii 
 shelter for the night. 
 
 Tho next day, which was Sunday, was no sab-
 
 PRINCE CHARLES EDWARD. 13 
 
 bath for Charles. Accompanied by his three ad- 
 herents, with infinite difficulty he made his way 
 over another range of steep and rugged mountains, 
 and penetrated into the district of Aresaig, where 
 he found a temporary refuge at the village of Glen- 
 boisdale. There he spent four days, and was join, 
 ed by several of his fugitive partisans, among whom 
 were Clanronald, Lockhart the younger of Carn- 
 wath, and ./Eneas Macdonald. While staying at 
 this place he received a message from Lord George 
 Murray, assuring him that the cause of the Stuarts 
 was by no means hopeless, and imploring him not 
 to quit the country. This petition was backed by 
 Clanronald and others, who offered to build for the 
 prince several summer huts in different extensive 
 woods, near which a careful watch should be kept, 
 and from one to another of which he might always 
 remove, as circumstances required. In the mean- 
 while, Clanronald and some of his trusty friends 
 would visit the western islands, and secure a ves. 
 sel by which his royal highness might escape to 
 France, should such a measure at last become ne- 
 cessary. But Charles turned a deaf ear to this 
 proposal : Sullivan had impressed him with a be- 
 lief that he would find a more safe asylum in the 
 western islands than on the mainland, and thither 
 he was obstinately bent upon going. 
 
 He would not, perhaps, have tarried so long in 
 \resaig had he not been waiting for one Donald 
 Macleod, whom he expected from Skye, to be his 
 guide to the islands. He was convinced that he 
 should meet with no mercy if he fell into the hands 
 of his enemies ; and he might reasonably fear that 
 the offer of thirty thousand pounds, formerly made
 
 14 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 for his seizure, and now still more sedulously re- 
 proclaimed, would prove a temptation far too strong 
 to be resisted by a weak or an avaricious mind. 
 While he was labouring under these apprehensions, 
 an alarm was one day raised that foes were ap- 
 proaching. An instant dispersion of the fugitives 
 took place, Charles betaking himself to a neigh- 
 bouring forest for security. While wandering 
 there, he saw an aged Highlander coming towards 
 him. On questioning the stranger, he found him to 
 be the very Donald Macleod whom he was so anx 
 iously expecting. " Then I am he who sent for 
 you," exclaimed Charles : " you see the distress I 
 am in, and therefore I throw myself into your bo- 
 som ; do what you please with me ; I am your 
 prince." Donald was so deeply affected, that for 
 a while he could only reply by tears ; and wheu at 
 last he was able to speak, he said that he was old, 
 and he feared could be of no great use to him, but 
 that he would do whatever was in his power. He 
 added, that some of the hostile party were not more 
 than ten or twelve miles off, seeking him, and con. 
 sequently it would be prudent to remove from Are- 
 saig with as little delay as possible. 
 
 By means of Clanronald, an eight-oared open 
 boat was speedily obtained.. Four pecks of oat- 
 meal, and a pot in which to boil it when they land- 
 ed, formed the whole of their stores. Charles had 
 assumed the name of Mr. St. Clair, and Sullivan 
 passed for his father. Macleod, from his long ex- 
 perience of the signs of the weather, foresaw that 
 a storm was at hand, and endeavoured to persuade 
 the prince to defer his voyage till the morrow. But 
 Charles, believing he had more to dread from hia
 
 PRINCE CHARLES EDWARD. 15 
 
 merciless enemies than from the raging elemants, 
 determined to put instantly to sea. The crew of 
 the boat were willing to brave the danger, and ac- 
 cordingly, at twilight, they pushed from land. The 
 prediction of Macleod was soon verified. Scarce- 
 ly were they well out to sea when a terrible tem- 
 pest arose, and the rain poured down in torrents. 
 Their situation became perilous in the extreme ; 
 they had neither compass to steer by nor pump to 
 discharge the water, the night was pitchy dark, and 
 they were in utter ignorance of the course they 
 were taking. On one side the waves threatened 
 every moment to swallow them up ; on the other 
 they were in danger of being driven on the coast of 
 Skye, where numbers of the militia were roaming 
 about in quest of their proscribed passenger. The 
 light of morning at length dawned upon them, and 
 dispelled their terrors by showing them a friendly 
 shore. During the night the wind had wafted them 
 upward of a hundred miles, and they found them- 
 selves off Rossinish Point, the northeast corner of 
 Benbecula, one of the group of the Hebrides. With 
 joyful hearts the rowers ran the boat upon the beach, 
 and landed with their passengers in safety. They 
 took possession of a deserted cowhouse without a 
 door, and the prince helped to light a fire to warm 
 the crew, who were almost perished with wet and 
 cold. He also purchased a cow for thirty shillings, 
 a part of which, with some meal, was put into the 
 pot, to relieve their hunger. When he had parta- 
 ken of this rude refreshment, he lay down upon 
 the floor, covered by an old sailcloth, and slept 
 soundly. The storm, painful and alarming as it 
 was. had nevertheless been favourable to them, as
 
 16 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 it had driven into harbour all the boats and small 
 vessels which were upon the lookout for the wan- 
 derer, it being thought impossible that any frail 
 skiff could live in such a tremendous sea. 
 
 The storm continued to rage for fourteen hours, 
 after the prince's landing, and it was not till the 
 third day that they could again safely put to sea. 
 They were now bound to Stornoway, in the island 
 of Lewis, where they meant to represent them- 
 selves as Orkney men who had been wrecked upon 
 the isle of Tirec, and wanted to hire a vessel to 
 convey them to their own country. Once masters 
 of the vessel, there would be nothing to prevent 
 their steering for France. Taking with them part 
 of the cow they had purchased, they set sail, on 
 the 29th of April, for Stornoway, distant about 
 seventy miles. But they had not gone more than 
 half way when they were overtaken by a storm, 
 which compelled them to put into the little island 
 that bears the double name of Glass and Scalpa. 
 This island belonged to a hostile laird, and they 
 were consequently obliged to appear under their 
 borrowed character of shipwrecked merchantmen. 
 They fortunately fell in with one Donald Campbell, 
 a farmer, a partisan of the Stuarts, who hospitably 
 entertained them, apd lent his own boat to Donald 
 Macleod to proceed to Stornoway and hire a ves- 
 sel for the prince. Charles, meanwhile, remained 
 in the farmer's house. 
 
 In the course of a few days, Donald having sent 
 word that he had engaged a vessel, the prince and 
 his friends set sail for Stornoway. Stress of weath 
 er, however, soon compelled them to land in Loch 
 Seaforth, whence they had to travel thirty miles
 
 PRINCE CHARLES EDWARD. 17 
 
 over a wet and trackless moor. The distance was 
 increased by the stupidity of their guide, who. led 
 them several miles out of their way ; and it was 
 not till the next day at noon that they reached Ar. 
 nish, about half a mile from the town. From this 
 place Charles despatched a messenger to Donald 
 for some food, as they were almost starving. Don- 
 aid himself came with the provisions, and then took 
 the prince to the house of Mrs. Mackenzie of Kil- 
 dun, where he was to take up his abode for the 
 night. He then went back to Stornoway, to pre- 
 pare for their embarcation. 
 
 When Donald arrived at Stornoway, he found it 
 all in commotion. The townspeople were fully 
 convinced that the prince was at hand with five 
 hundred men, and meant to burn the place, take 
 away their cattle, and seize upon a vessel to carry 
 him to France. The origin of this commotion has 
 been variously related : by some it is said to have 
 been occasioned by a letter sent from South Uist 
 by a Presbyterian clergyman, communicating the 
 terrible intelligence of the wanderer's design ; by 
 others it has been ascribed to want of prudence in 
 Donald, who had behaved in a manner to excite 
 suspicion, especially by offering to purchase the 
 vesse 1 at a high price, on the owner refusing tc 
 abide Dy his original agreement. Be this as it 
 n.ay, it is certain that the people of the town were 
 in a violent state of excitement ; and, had the prince 
 been among them, which he would have been but 
 for his having been delayed, there can be no doubt 
 they would have proceeded to extremities against 
 him. It was in vain Donald protested that Charles 
 had no forces, nor any wish to injure them if he 
 242
 
 18 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 had the means. All he could gain from them was 
 a declaration that they had no desire to hurt the 
 prince, provided he would depart ; but they posi- 
 tively refused to furnish him with a pilot, or to 
 lend him any assistance whatever. 
 
 With this disagreeable intelligence Donald went 
 back to Kildun. Some advised the prince to fly to 
 the mountains ; but, rightly judging that flight would 
 tempt pursuit, he rejected this proposal. To set off 
 immediately by water was impossible, for two of 
 the boatmen, in a fit of panic, had fled into the coun- 
 try, and the other two had put to sea with the boat. 
 The remainder of the day they were therefore com- 
 pelled to spend at Mrs. Mackenzie's, in momentary 
 expectation that something unpleasant would hap 
 pen. Their fears were relieved in the morning by 
 the return of the two men with the boat, and they 
 delayed not a moment in making ready for their 
 flight. They had part of a cow which they had 
 purchased at Kildun, and this, with two pecks of 
 oatmeal, a lump of butter, and some brandy and su- 
 gar, formed the stores for their voyage. The hasty 
 meal which they took before their departure was 
 prepared by the prince himself; it consisted of a 
 cake, made of oatmeal and the brains of the cow, 
 baked upon a stone before the fire. 
 
 On the morning of the 6th of May they left this 
 inhospitable shore. It was the wish of the prince 
 to steer for the Orkneys ; but the boatmen were 
 averse from venturing so great a distance, and it 
 was resolved to take a southerly course. Danger 
 was on all sides of them. The government were 
 aware that Charles was wandering among the Heb- 
 rides, and he roast was consequently swarming
 
 PRINCE CHARLES EDWARD. 19 
 
 with English ships, in wait to intercept him. Be- 
 fore they had proceeded far, the sight of four ves- 
 sels drove them to take shelter in the small island 
 of Eiurn or Iffurb, a little to the north of Scalpa. 
 This island was inhabited by a few fishermen, who, 
 seeing the vessels and the boat, concluded that the 
 latter was conveying a pressgang, and were so 
 alarmed that they made the best of their way into 
 the interior. Here Charles stayed for four days, 
 lodging in a wretched hovel, the dilapidated roof of 
 which they covered with a sailcloth, and partly 
 subsisting on the fish which the fishermen had 
 spread upon the rocks to dry. The prince would 
 have left some money in payment for the fish, had 
 not the politic Donald suggested that this would 
 prove they were not a pressgang, and excite an 
 idea that pe.rsons of consequence had been there. 
 An attempt to land on Scalpa was frustrated by 
 four fellows laying hands upon the boat the mo- 
 ment it touched the beach : a circumstance which 
 induced them to push out to sea. The wind fell, 
 and they had to row all night, though almost faint- 
 ing for want of food. In the morning they again 
 hoisted their sail. During this day they had no. 
 thing to eat but a mixture called drarnmock, made 
 of oatmeal and salt water, for of fresh water they 
 had none. This unpalatable composition the prince 
 is said to have eaten with apparent relish, washing 
 it down with a glass of brandy. Twice in their 
 way to Benbecula they were chased for miles by 
 English ships, from one of which they could escape 
 only by running among the rocks, near Roundil 
 Point, on the island of Harris. Soon after the 
 prince had landed a storm arosa, which blew his
 
 20 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 pursuers off the coast ; on which he exultingly ex- 
 claimed that Providence protected him, and would 
 baffle all the designs of his enemies. 
 
 Subsistence being a primary object, the boatmen 
 immediately began to search among the rocks for 
 shellfish. One of them caught a crab, and joy- 
 fully held it up to the prince, who seized a bucket 
 and joined in the hunt. The bucket was filled by 
 their joint exertions, and Charles, in spite of the 
 remonstrances of his followers, persisted in carry- 
 ing it for two miles, till they came to the hut where 
 they were to reside. The doorway of this small, 
 dirty hovel was so low that they were obliged to 
 creep in on their hands and knees. This mode of 
 entrance being by no means pleasant, Charles or- 
 dered a part of the soil round the door to be dug 
 away. From this goodly abode the prince de- 
 spatched Donald to the mainland with letters to 
 Lochiel and Secretary Murray, desiring a supply of 
 money, and information as to the state of affairs. 
 
 The arrival of Charles being made known to 
 the old laird of Clanronald, who had taken no part 
 in the outbreak, that gentleman hastened to him 
 with wine, provisions, shoes, stockings, and shirts ; 
 the last was not the least acceptable of these arti- 
 cles, the linen of the prince having by this time be- 
 come " as dingy as a dishclout." The wearer him- 
 self was in very indifferent plight ; his spirits were 
 good, but he had began to suffer corporeally from 
 his toils and privations ; his frame was emaciated, 
 his countenance haggard. To better in some small 
 degree the condition of his guest, Clanronald re. 
 moved him to a secluded hut, called the forest- 
 house of Glencorrodale, in the island of South Uist,
 
 PRINCE CHARLES EDWARD. 21 
 
 so situated that, in case of alarm, its inmate could 
 take either to the mountains or the sea. Thither 
 Charles was accompanied by several of his friends ; 
 and twelve of Clanronald's dependants were sta- 
 tioned near his retreat, to serve as guards, guides,. 
 or messengers. In this place Charles enjoyed the 
 luxury of having two cowhides, stretched upon 
 four sticks, suspended ,over his couch to shield him, 
 from the weather. Here he remained for three 
 weeks, amusing himself with hunting, shooting, and 
 fishing, and sometimes enjoying the society of old 
 Clanronald and his brother Boisdale. While the 
 prince was here, Donald returned empty-handed 
 as far as regarded money, Murray having told him 
 that he had only sixty louis d'or for himself, and 
 could spare nothing for his master. Donald, how. 
 ever, had not forgotten to purchase and bring back 
 a couple of ankers of brandy. 
 
 The situation of the prince in South Uist was- 
 one of comparative comfort. But it was too pleas- 
 ant to last. His indefatigable pursuers were dog- 
 ging him closely, and he had no alternative but 
 flight or destruction. They had girdled the whole 
 coast of the Hebrides with vessels of all sizes, and 
 the military had orders to sweep the chain of isl- 
 ands from end to end, and leave no corner unex- 
 amined. Even the remote island of St. Kilda,. 
 whose inhabitants lived in profound ignorance of 
 war and politics, had been rigorously searched. 
 Already troops had been landed in Barra and other 
 neighbouring isles, and were preparing to overrun 
 South Uist. Charles therefore sought refuge in 
 the petty islet of Wia : scared from thence by hia 
 advancing foes, he found shelter for a few days on
 
 22 PERILOUS ADVENTURES 
 
 the banks of Loch Boisdale, after having encoun- 
 tered a storm and some hostile cruisers. At Loch 
 Boisdale he parted from all his friends except 
 Colonel O'Niel, after which he removed to a hut 
 near the seashore, about a mile from Clanronald's 
 mansion. 
 
 The moment at length arrived when to remain 
 longer on South Uist was impossible, the king's 
 troops being on the advance from both of its ex- 
 tremities. Yet how were the means of escape to 
 be procured ? They were furnished by a woman : 
 one whose memory will be honoured as long as 
 courage and compassionate feeling can obtain the 
 respect of mankind. There was then visiting at 
 Clanronald's seat a lady nearly related to him, na- 
 med Flora Macdonald, whose father-in-law com- 
 manded one of the militia detachments which were 
 traversing South Uist. " She was about twenty- 
 four years of age, of a middle stature, and a very 
 pretty, agreeable person, of great sprightliness in 
 her looks, and abounded with good sense, modesty, 
 gentleness, and humanity." In the hope that she 
 might render them service? O'Niel narrated to her 
 the sufferings and imminent danger of the prince, 
 and her womanly pity was excited by the mournfur 
 tale. She had an interview with Charles, and con- 
 sented to convey him to Skye dressed as her fe- 
 male servant. Under pretence of wishing to see 
 her mother, who was in Skye, she next obtained 
 from her unsuspecting father-in-law a passport for 
 herself, her male attendant Mac Echan, and her 
 Irish maid Betty Burke. Flora seems to have 
 felt a mischievous pleasure in trying how far she 
 could play upon her simple stepfather ; for, on the
 
 PRINCE CHARLES EDWARD. 23 
 
 pretence of her mother having a large quantity of 
 flax in store, she actually prevailed upon him to 
 give her a letter recommending the supposititious 
 Betty Burke as an admirable spinner. 
 
 The plan was communicated to Lady Clanron- 
 aid, who cordially concurred in it. Attire suitable 
 for the assumed character of the prince was pro- 
 vided by th two ladies. It consisted of a coarse 
 cotton gown, with purple flowers upon a white 
 ground, a light-coloured quilted petticoat, and a 
 mantle of dun camlet, made after the Irish fashion, 
 with a hood to it. These articles they carried to 
 the hut where Charles was concealed. When they 
 entered they found him busied in roasting the liver 
 and heart of a sheep upon a wooden spit, and were 
 much affected at seeing him reduced to such ne- 
 cessity. The prince, who felt that his dignity was 
 in no way compromised, made light of the matter, 
 and remarked that " the wretched to-day may be 
 happy to-morrow." He added, in a more serious 
 tone, that " it would be well if all who were born 
 to greatness had a little of the same experience 
 that he had." They then sat down to dinner, the 
 prince placing Lady Clanron a Id on his left, and 
 Flora on his right. While they were at their 
 meal, a servant came in haste, to warn Lady Clan, 
 ronald that Captain Ferguson, with a party of sol* 
 dicrs, was at her house in quest of the prince. 
 She therefore returned instantly to her home. 
 
 A boat had been secured to convey Charles to 
 Skye, and he now began to prepare for his voyage 
 by putting on his female apparel. This being 
 bompleted, he proceeded with Flora towards the 
 ceach, and joined the boat's crew. As they were
 
 24 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 wet, and had to wait some time before they could 
 depart, a fire was lighted to dry them. But they 
 had not been long there when they we/e startled 
 by the sight of four cutters, full of armed men, sail- 
 ing along near the shore. The fire was hastily 
 extinguished ; and, concealing themselves among 
 the heather, their enemies passed by without ob- 
 serving them. 
 
 At about eight in the evening, on the 28th of 
 June, they started from South Uist. After sailing 
 some distance, the wind rose and the sea began to 
 swell. Charles, who saw that his companions were 
 ill at ease, did his best to enliven them, by singing 
 pleasant songs and telling merry stories. At day- 
 break a wide expanse of water alone was visible, 
 and, the wind having often veered about during the 
 night, they knew not where they were. In a short 
 time, however, the hills of Skye came in sight ; 
 and, unconscious of the danger which awaked them 
 there, they made for the point of Waternish, which 
 projects from the northwest corner of that island. 
 They had approached within musket-shot of the 
 land before they perceived that it was covered 
 with soldiers. Hastily changing their course, they 
 plied their oars vigorously, regardless of the threats 
 of the military. These threats were followed by 
 volleys of musketry, the balls whiz/ing around the 
 boat on all sides. In this critical situation the 
 courage and coolness of the prince remained un- 
 shaken. He had but one fear, and that was for 
 his deliverer. He earnestly entreated Miss Mac- 
 donald to lie down in the bottom of the boat to 
 avoid the bullets ; but, with Spartan firmness, she 
 replied that she came there to save his life, not to
 
 PRINCE CHARLES EDWARD. 36 
 
 look to her own, and that she should blush to 
 shrink from danger and leave him exposed to it : 
 nor, though the shots were thickly falling about 
 them, could he prevail on her to follow his advice 
 till he himself consented to take the precaution 
 which he recommended. By dint of strenuous ex- 
 ertion they at length got to a safe distance, and, 
 happily, no one was hurt. Flora, however, was 
 so worn out by fatigue and anxiety that she drop- 
 ped asleep in the bottom of the boat. The prince 
 covered her up carefully, and sat by to watch lest 
 any of the crew should chance to disturb her. 
 
 Their landing was effected at Kilbride, near Ma- 
 gestad, the seat of Sir Alexander Macdonald. It 
 was to Magestad that the prince and his guide 
 were bound. Sir Alexander, and most of the 
 other lairds of Skye, were indeed ostensibly well 
 affected to the existing government, and seemed to 
 lend it a cordial support ; but their prejudices, and 
 perhaps their affections, were on the side of the 
 Stuarts. Sir Alexander himself was with the Duke 
 of Cumberland ; yet it was to his wife, Lady Mar- 
 garet, that Flora had confided her secret and look- 
 ed for assistance. 
 
 Having placed Charles in safety, Flora proceed- 
 ed, with her attendant Mac Echan, to Magestad. 
 The house was full of British officers. She con- 
 trived, nevertheless, to have a private interview 
 with Lady Margaret, in which it was settled that 
 the prince should go, for the present, to the house 
 of Macdonald of Kingsburgh, the steward of Sir 
 Alexander, who chanced to be then at the family 
 mansion. Kingsburgh was speedily despatched to 
 the prince, who, on hearing his approach, rushed
 
 26 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 out from his concealment with a large knotted 
 tick, and stood on the defensive till he explained 
 the purport of his mission. Charles and his con- 
 ductor then journeyed on towards the house of the 
 latter, which was several miles off. Unaccustom- 
 ed as yet to his disguise, the prince was more than 
 once in danger of betraying his sex. " I never 
 saw such a tall, impudent jaud in my life," ex- 
 claimed a girl ; " see what lang strides she takes, 
 and how her coats wamble about her ! I daur say 
 she's an Irish woman, or else a man in woman's 
 clothes." Sometimes, instead of courtesy ing, he 
 bowed to those who greeted them on the road. 
 In fording a stream, he raised his petticoats far 
 higher than was seemly in a woman ; and when 
 this error was pointed out to him, he remedied it 
 by the still worse mistake of allowing them to float 
 on the water. " Your enemies call you a pre- 
 tender," said Kingsburgh ; " but if you are one, I 
 must say that you are the worst at your trade I 
 ever met with." 
 
 On the road they were joined by Flora, who at 
 first had taken another route on horseback, and 
 the party reached Kingsburgh's house at eleven at 
 night. His wife was gone to bed, and she sent 
 down a welcome to the guests, and an apology for 
 not rising. She little thought who one of her 
 guests was. Her daughter, who was seven years 
 old, now ran up to her, declaring that her father 
 " had brought a very muckle ill shaken up wife as 
 ever she had seen ; ay, and had ta'en her into the 
 hall too." The child was followed by Kingsburgh, 
 who told his wife that she must get up and enter* 
 tain the company. The lady obeyed, and in the
 
 PRINCE CHARLES EDWARD. 27 
 
 mean lime sent her daughter to fetch the keys, 
 which had been left in the hall ; but the timid girl 
 returned without them, saying that she could not 
 go in, " because the muckle woman was walk-in' up 
 and down the hall, and she was afraid of her." 
 The mother, who was obliged to go for them her- 
 self, received from the formidable guest the cus- 
 tomary salute on entering the room, and was sad- 
 ly discomposed at feeling the roughness of a male 
 cheek. Suspecting that it was some distressed 
 gentleman in disguise, she questioned her husband 
 as to the name of the person, and whether he was 
 likely to know what was become of the prince. 
 "It is the prince himself, my dear," replied Kings- 
 burgh. Warm as her feelings were towards 
 Charles, this abrupt intelligence alarmed her. 
 " The prince !" she exclaimed ; " then we are ruin- 
 ed ; we will a' be hanged noo !" Kingsburgh suc- 
 ceeded in quieting her fears, and desired her to 
 bring some eggs, and butter and cheese, for supper. 
 The idea of presenting such a supper quite over- 
 threw her again ; for she could not ijnagine the 
 possibility of a prince condescending to sup upon 
 anything so homely as butter, cheese, and eggs. 
 This difficulty being removed by an assurance that 
 Charles had lately lived upon much worse fare, 
 another arose from his telling her she must come 
 to table. " I come !" said the astonished dame ; 
 " I ken naething of how to behave before majesty !" 
 At last her terrors and scruples were dispelled, 
 and the party sat down to their repast, the prince 
 placing her on his left and Flora on his right. 
 When the ladies had withdrawn, Charles took out 
 a short dingy pipe t and began to smoke ; a prac- 
 C
 
 28 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 tice to which, he said, the toothache had compelled 
 him to have recourse in his wanderings. This 
 pipe was known among his friends by the name of 
 " the cutty ;" an Irishman would call it a dudeen. 
 While the prince was enjoying his cutty, Kings- 
 burgh brought forth a small china bowl, in which 
 he mixed some toddy ; and so palatable was the 
 liquor that bowl followed bowl, and the host ana 
 his guest sat quaffing and familiarly conversing fox 
 several hours. Though loth to seem inhospitable, 
 Kingsburgh was at last obliged to hint at the ne- 
 cessity there was that the prince should retire to 
 rest, that he might be prepared for the fatigue of 
 the morrow. Charles, however, good-humouredly 
 insisted on another supply of toddy ; and, seeing 
 Kingsburgh take up the bowl to put it away, he 
 seized upon it to prevent him. Both held it fast, 
 and in their amicable scuffle it broke asunder, each 
 of them retaining a portion of it. The destruction 
 of the bowl put an end to the debate, and they re- 
 tired to their beds.* 
 
 Charles, who, as he himself said, had almost for- 
 gotten what a good bed was, enjoyed his couch so 
 much that he slept for ten hours, and would have 
 slumbered longer had not his host aroused him. 
 It was necessary that he should depart without 
 delay. A change of dress was also requisite ; and, 
 accordingly, " a short coat and waistcoat, a phili- 
 beg and short hose, a plaid, a wig, and a bonnet," 
 were provided for him. As, however, it would not 
 
 * The habit of inebriety, which was a stain upon the latter 
 years of this unfortunate prince, originated, perhaps, in his -- 
 sorting to the use of spirits when worn with toil, and suffering 
 from wet, and cold, during his wanderings in Scotland.
 
 PRINCE CHARLES EDWARD. 29 
 
 be prudent to shift his attire in Kingsburgh's house, 
 no other alteration was at present made than sub- 
 stituting a new pair of shoes for those which he 
 wore, and through which his toes were peeping. 
 Kingsburgh carefully tied the cast-off shoes togeth 
 er and hung them up, declaring that they might be 
 of great service to him. " How so ?" asked the 
 prince ; to which he replied that he would come, 
 when his guest was firmly settled in St. James's, 
 and shake them at him, to bring himself to his rec- 
 ollection. 
 
 Raasay, an island between the mainland and 
 Skye, was the place which had been chosen for 
 the prince's asylum ; and he was to proceed 
 thither from Portree, a small town on the eastern 
 shore of Skye. To procure a seaworthy boat was 
 a matter of some difficulty ; it would not be pru- 
 dent to confide in a Portree crew, and all the boats 
 in Raasay had been destroyed except two, which 
 were in the possession of Malcolm Macleod, a par- 
 xisan of the Stuarts. This obstacle was, however, 
 surmounted by the contrivance of one Donald Mac- 
 leod. Knowing that there was a little boat in a 
 neighbouring lake, he procured assistance, dragged 
 it across a mile of land which was half bog, half 
 precipice, and ventured in it to Raasay. He re- 
 turned speedily, bringing with him Malcolm Mac- 
 leod, his boat, and two stout boatmen. 
 
 At parting from his hostess, who had lost all her 
 dread of being hanged, and who was full of enthu- 
 siasm for him, Charles received her mull or snuff- 
 box as a keepsake, and allowed Flora to cut off a 
 lock of his hair, which the ladies shared between 
 them. The prince, Flora, and Kingsburgh now
 
 30 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 set off for Portree. When they had gone fai 
 enough from the house, Kingsburgh took the prince 
 into a wood : there Charles resumed his mascu. 
 fine appearance, and was himself again. They 
 then went on to Portree, and found that the boat 
 was waiting for them within half a mile of the 
 town. Here, at the inn, Charles took a grateful 
 and affectionate leave of the high-minded Flora, to 
 whom he presented his miniature, with a request 
 that she would ever preserve it for his sake. 
 Kingsburgh attended him to the water side, and 
 they embraced and wept when they parted.* 
 
 Charles landed in Raasay early in the morning 
 of the first of July. There was but sorry accom- 
 modation for him in his new place of abode. 
 Nearly all the houses had been burned by the sol- 
 diery, and he was obliged to put up with a poor 
 hovel which some shepherds had lately built. A 
 bed was made for him of heath, with the bloom up- 
 permost. For provisions they were tolerably well 
 off, as the young laird of Raasay brought them a 
 kid and a lamb, concealed in his plaid. Cause for 
 apprehension soon arose. There was a man in 
 the island who had come there a fortnight before 
 for the purpose of selling a roll of tobacco. The 
 tobacco had long been sold, and yet he continued 
 to stray about without any apparent business to 
 detain him. In such times the natural conclusion 
 was, that he was a spy. He having chanced to 
 approach the hovel, Malcolm, Murdoch, and young 
 
 * Miss Macdonald, Macleod, and Kingsburgh were arrested 
 noon after ; the lady and Malcolm were conveyed to London, 
 and Kingsburgh was taken first to Fort Augustus and subse- 
 quently to Edinburgh Castle. After having been imprisoned 
 tor more than twelve months, they were all set at liberty-
 
 PRINCE CHARLES EDWARD. 31 
 
 Raasay determined, without hesitation or inquiry, 
 to shoot him. The prince was shocked ; and he 
 strongly remonstrated against murdering a person 
 who probably was innocent. John Mackenzie, 
 who was on watch at the door, heard him, and ex- 
 claimed in the Erse language, "He must be shot ; 
 you are the king, but we are the Parliament, and 
 will do as we please." On the remark being trans- 
 lated to Charles, he laughed heartily, and called 
 him a clever fellow. The stranger, meanwhile, 
 passed on without noticing them, and thus escaped 
 an otherwise inevitable death. 
 
 It is probable that this incident induced the 
 prince to remove from Raasay after having been 
 there only two days. He desired to be conveyed 
 back to Skye, and the whole party consequently 
 set sail on the evening of the third. The wind 
 soon rose alarmingly, and the boat shipped so 
 much water that his companions declared they had 
 better return. Charles, however, opposed their 
 wish, telling them that Providence, which had 
 brought them through so many perils, would pre- 
 serve him for a nobler end than being drowned. 
 To divert their attention from the gale, he sang 
 them a merry Erse song, and then took his turn 
 in assisting Malcolm to bale out the water, which 
 often threatened to swamp the boat. It was eleven 
 at night when they arrived at Scorebreck, in the 
 Isle of Skye. To reach the land they were obliged 
 to jump into the sea, and the prince was one of 
 the first to make the plunge and help to haul the 
 4>oat ashore. Wet and hungry, they spent the night 
 in a cowhouse, without food or fire. 
 
 In the morning Charles parted from all his com-
 
 32 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 panions but Malcolm. As soon as they were alone, 
 he told him that he wished to be conducted to that 
 part of Skye which belonged to the laird of Mac- 
 kinnon. Malcolm represented the danger ; but 
 Charles replied that there was nothing now to be 
 done without danger. " You," added he, " shall 
 be the master, and I the man ;" and he immediate- 
 ly began to assume the character, by strapping 
 their linen bag over his shoulders, and changing 
 his own vest, which was of scarlet tartan with gold 
 twist buttons, for Malcolm's, which was of a plain- 
 er kind. Thinking this not sufficient, he afterward 
 took off his wig, tied a dirty napkin round his head 
 under his bonnet, stripped the ruffles from his shirt, 
 removed the buckles from his shoes, and made his 
 friend fasten them with strings. He was also care- 
 ful to touch his bonnet when his fictitious master 
 spoke to him while any one was passing by. They 
 set out in the evening and travelled all night. The 
 journey was long and wearisome ; more than thir- 
 ty miles, over hill, heath, and morass. In walking, 
 Charles was more than a match for his companion, 
 and he declared that, provided he was not within 
 musket-shot, he would have no fear of being cap- 
 tured by English soldiers. Malcolm asked him 
 what they should do if they were taken by surprise. 
 " Fight, to be sure," replied the prince. Malcolm 
 said that if their assailants did not exceed four in 
 number, he thought he could manage two of them, 
 and Charles promised to be answerable for the two 
 that might fall to his share. Yet they were in no 
 favourable condition for fighting, wearied as they 
 were, and having had no food for many hours ; 
 their only refreshment had been a little brandy,
 
 PRINCE CHARLES EDWARD. 33 
 
 with water from the spring, the last glass of which 
 Charles insisted that Malcolm should drink, as he 
 himself could do without it. 
 
 Their tedious journey ended at Ellagol, near 
 Kilmarie, in the southwest corner of the island. 
 Malcolm had a sister living there, whose husband, 
 John Mackinnon, had been a captain in the prince's 
 army, and might therefore be trusted. Mackinnon 
 was from home, but his wife received them kindly. 
 Charles was introduced to her as his servant Louis 
 Caw, who had fallen ill on the road. At table, 
 Malcolm desired Louis to sit down with them, as 
 there was no company ; an invitation which the 
 seeming servant accepted with a well-acted show 
 of thankfulness and humility. According to High- 
 land custom, water w-\s brought in after dinner to 
 wash the feet of tho guests. The old crone who 
 brought it having washed Malcolm's feet, he re- 
 quested her to perform the same office for his at- 
 tendant. Her Highland blood was fired by what 
 she thought an insult, and she warmly exclaimed, 
 with a Gaelic redundancy of speech, " Though I 
 have washed your father's son's feet, why should 
 I wash his father's son's feet ?" She was at last 
 prevailed on to do it, however, as an act of human- 
 ity, though her humanity was displayed with a 
 very ill grace. She rubbed Charles so roughly 
 that he complained ; but, instead of an apology, he 
 was greeted with, " Filthy fellow, it ill becomes 
 the like of you to murmur at anything my father's 
 daughter could do to you !" The next morning 
 he gave her fresh offence. Having taken but two 
 hours' rest, he had long been up, and was dandling 
 Mrs. Mackinnon's infant, when Malcolm, who had 
 243
 
 34 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 only just risen, came into the room, and expressed 
 'his surprise at seeing him so actively engaged and 
 so little affected by the previous fatigue. " Who 
 'knows," said the prince, " but this boy may here- 
 after be a captain in my service ?" This remark 
 must, under the apparent circumstances, have 
 sounded strangely to the testy dame, and it is no 
 wonder that she corrected him by saying, " Or 
 you, rather, an old sergeant in his company !" 
 
 Mackinnon now returned, and was delighted to 
 hear that the prince was under his roof. Charles 
 was resolved to go to the mainland, and it was set- 
 tled that Mackinnon should go to his chief and hire 
 a boat for that purpose, without, however, letting 
 him into the secret. But John had not the reten- 
 tive faculty ; and, in the fulness of his heart, he 
 made everything known to the laird. The old 
 chief, who was a warm friend of the Stuarts, di- 
 rectly ordered out his boat, and set off with his wife 
 to welcome the prince. He carried with him some 
 wine and provisions, and the whole party partook of 
 them in a neighbouring cave. There it was ar- 
 ranged that the old laird and Mackinnon should 
 conduct Charles to the mainland, Malcolm being 
 left behind to mislead the enemies in case of their 
 pursuing. After smoking a pipe with Malcolm, 
 giving him a silver stock-buckle and " the cutty" 
 as tokens of remembrance, and compelling him to 
 receive ten guineas to bear his expenses while he 
 was concealed, Charles bade him an affectionate 
 farewell, and departed, late in the evening, from 
 Skye. Two English ships were in sight, bearing 
 down in a direction towards him, but he insisted on 
 proceeding, being convinced, he said, that Povi-
 
 PRINCE CHARLES EDWARD. 36 
 
 dence would protect him. The wind soon veering 
 round, the ships stood upon another tuck, and he 
 passed unseen. The voyage, which was of thirty 
 miles, was tempestuous. The roughness of thq 
 weather, however, proved eventually a favourable 
 circumstance; for it prevented them from being 
 stopped by a boat full of soldiers who hailed them. 
 Charles landed, on the morning of the 5th of July, 
 at Little Mallag, on the southern shore of Loch 
 Nevish. 
 
 The coast of the western part of Inverness-shire, 
 where the prince landed, is intersected by several 
 lochs, which indent the country deeply, thus form* 
 ing a series of alternate inlets and peninsulas. 
 Passing from north to south, there are the lochs of 
 Duich, Hourn, Nevish, Morrer, Aylort, and Ranach, 
 of which the last two are united, and Moydart and 
 Shell, which also communicate with each other. 
 Taken in the same order, the peninsular districts 
 between them are named Glenelg, Knoydart, Mor- 
 rer, Arasaig, and Moydart. They are wild and 
 mountainous, varying in breadth from five to ten 
 miles, and the hills which compose them join, or, 
 rather, are ramifications from, a mountainous chain 
 which runs north and south, from Loch Shiel into 
 Ross-shire. Over this chain pass the roads, which 
 in those days were merely paths, from the seacoast 
 to Glengarry, Glenmorisson, and other glens, ter- 
 minating to the eastward at the great line of lakes 
 which insulates the north of Scotland. 
 
 The return of Charles to the mainland was 
 speedily known by his enemies, and measures were 
 taken to hunt him down before he could quit the 
 circumscribed district which has just been descri-
 
 36 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 bed. If they could confine him within its limns, 
 there was a great probability that he would fall into 
 their hands ; or, if he again sought shelter in the 
 neighbouring islands, that he would be captured by 
 the British cruisers. To prevent his escape from 
 the circle, a chain of strong posts was formed 
 along the mountain range, extending from the head 
 of Loch Hourn to the head of Loch Sheil. These 
 posts were connected by sentinels stationed within 
 sight of each other. Not a traveller was suffered 
 to pass during the day without a rigid examination. 
 At night, large fires were lighted at the several 
 posts, and the sentinels were kept in constant mo- 
 tion, crossing from one fire to the other, so as to 
 leave no space untraversed throughout the whole 
 extent of the line. 
 
 For three nights after his return to the mainland 
 Charles and his party slept in the open fields. Two 
 of the fugitives were then sent in search of a cave 
 for an abode, and, in the mean while, the prince, 
 with four companions, rowed up Loch Nevish. As 
 they were rounding a point, they were discovered 
 and pursued by a boat full of militiamen. The 
 fugitives, however, plied their oars so vigorously 
 that their pursuers were soon left too far behind to 
 think of continuing the chase. After a short stay 
 at Mallag, they crossed the hills between the Lochs 
 of Nevish and Morrer, with the purpose of procu- 
 ring an asylum at Morrer House, the seat of Lieuten- 
 ant-colonel Macdonald. On their way they came 
 to a hut, in which, as they were approaching it, they 
 saw some people ; and Charles, who feared that he 
 might be known, desired Mackinnon to fold his plaid 
 for him in the true Highland manner, and throw it
 
 PRINCE CHARLES EDW. RD. 37 
 
 over his shoulder, with his knapsack upon it. He 
 then tied a handkerchief round his head, settled hia 
 features to the character which he assumed, and 
 appeared as a servant again. At the hut he was 
 not recognised, and he and his companions were 
 refreshed with a draught of milk. When they ar- 
 rived at Morrer House they found it reduced to a 
 pile of scorched and blackened ruins, and its mas- 
 ter living in a neighbouring hut. Macdonald, nev- 
 ertheless, gave them a hospitable welcome, and 
 sheltered them in a cave, where they enjoyed ten 
 hours' sleep. 
 
 As Macdonald of Morrer was not in a condition 
 to succour him, the prince resolved to cross the loch 
 into Arasaig, and throw himself upon Macdonald of 
 Borodale, from whom he doubted not of meeting 
 with a cordial reception. But, when he reached 
 Borodale, he found the mansion consumed, and the 
 laird, like his namesake, abiding in a hut. This 
 wretched dwelling Macdonald willingly shared with 
 his dangerous guest. Receiving intelligence which 
 gave reason to believe that the hut would be an un- 
 safe residence for Charles, his host removed him to 
 an almost unknown and inaccessible cave, about 
 four miles to the east. There the prince remain- 
 ed till the coming of Glenaladale, one of his most 
 attached followers, to whom he had sent a message 
 to join him. 
 
 The departure of Charles was hastened by a let- 
 ter from a gentleman in the peninsula of Morrer, 
 who stated that his place of concealment began to 
 be known, and offered him one which was more se- 
 cure. The prince sent Ronald Macdonald to as- 
 certain whether the new spot was really preferable.
 
 3ft PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 but he did not wait his return ; for an alarm being 
 given that an English tender was hovering on the 
 coast, he thought it prudent to proceed without loss 
 of time to Glen Morrer. On his way thither he 
 was met by a messenger, who informed him that 
 Clanronald was a few miles off, and had prepared 
 a safe asylum for him. Charles, however, who was 
 near Glejp Morrer, determined to rest there for the 
 night, and proceed to meet Clanronald in the morn- 
 ing. 
 
 But the prince was not destined to avail himself 
 of Clanronald's services. In the course of the 
 night, tidings were brought to the laird of Borodale 
 that General Campbell, with several men-of-war 
 and a large body of troops, had cast anchor in Loch 
 Nevish, and also that Captain Scott had advanced 
 with five hundred men into the lower part of Ara- 
 saig. This was a heavy blow to the prince ; he 
 was now completely hemmed in, and must either 
 break through the net which enveloped him, or in- 
 evitably perish. Not an instant was to be lost, for 
 every moment would contract the circle which en- 
 closed him. It was, indeed, doubtful even now 
 whether with his best diligence and skill he would 
 be able to find a penetrable point in the line of posts 
 and sentinels by which every outlet was watched. 
 Leaving behind him all his attendants save Glen- 
 aladale and two other Macdonalds, he set out early, 
 and halted at noon to take refreshment on the hill 
 of Scoorveig, in the eastern extremity of Arasaig, 
 whence he proceeded to the top of a hill called 
 Fruighvain, from which they perceived some men 
 driving cattle. They proved to be Glenaladale's 
 tenants, removing the cattle out of the reach of
 
 PRINCE CHARLES EDWARD. 39 
 
 several hundred of the king's troops who had come 
 to the head of Loch Arkeig for the purpose of 
 hutting in Charles upon that side. On their set- 
 ting out from Morrer, they had intended to reach 
 in the evening a hill named Swerninck Corrichan, 
 near Loch Arkeig, and Glenaladale's brother had 
 been sent to Glenfinnen, to direct two men to join 
 the prince on that eminence. A messenger was 
 now despatched to recall the brother, and a second 
 to summon Donald Cameron, who was in the neigh- 
 bourhood, and was excellently qualified to act as 
 guide. 
 
 While the perplexed and weary fugitives were 
 waiting for the return of these men, a wife of one 
 of Glenaladale's tenants, in pity to her landlord, 
 brought some milk for him up the hill. The weath- 
 er was sultry, and they were suffering from thirst ; 
 yet, welcome as this refreshment was, Glenaladale 
 would rather the donor had been less kind, as he 
 dreaded the chance of the prince being recognised. 
 But Charles did not lose his presence of mind : as 
 she approached, he covered his head with a hand, 
 kerchief, playing the part of a servant tormented 
 by headache. A trifling circumstance prolonged 
 her stay. Glenaladale, who wished to preserve 
 part of the milk for the prince, was obliged to re- 
 tain the pail ; and he found it rather difficult to 
 persuade her to depart without a utensil so indis- 
 pensable in her domestic economy. 
 
 The man who had been sent to recall Glenala- 
 dale's brother now came back. He had seen nei- 
 ther that gentleman nor the two men ; they were 
 gone to the place which the prince had named. 
 But, though he missed seeing them, he had discov-
 
 40 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 ered something which alarmed his hearers beyond 
 measure. He informed them, that upward of a 
 hundred of the Argyle militia were approaching the 
 foot of the hill on which they then stood. This 
 news rendered it necessary to flee at once, without 
 waiting for Cameron. The sun was setting when 
 they began their hurried march. At about eleven 
 o'clock, as they were stealing through a hollow be- 
 tween two hills, a man was seen descending towards 
 them. Glenaladale stepped forward to ascertain 
 whether the stranger was an enemy, and was de- 
 lighted to find it was Donald Cameron. Under the 
 guidance of Donald, they travelled all night through 
 wild and gloomy paths, which even in open day 
 would have been difficult to traverse ; and at four 
 in the morning they reached the summit of the 
 mountain called Mamryn Callum, in the braes of 
 Loch Arkeig. In the prospect stretched out be- 
 fore them, their sight encountered one object by no 
 means agreeable : at scarcely the distance of a 
 mile from them there was a camp of the royal for- 
 ces. Danger from the proximity of the enemy 
 was at present, however, rather apparent than real ; 
 Cameron knew that the mountain had been careful- 
 ly explored the day before, and he rationally con- 
 cluded that the search would not immediately be 
 repeated. A sharp look-out was nevertheless kept. 
 Here they remained during the day, obtained two 
 hours' sleep, and had the pleasure of being rejoined 
 by Glenaladale's brother, whom they had given up 
 for lost. 
 
 Bending their course southward, they set out at 
 nine in the evening, and after four hours' march 
 reached Corrinangaul, between Knoydart and Lcoh
 
 PRINCE CHARLES EDWARD. 41 
 
 Arkeig. Here Cameron expected he should be 
 able to purchase provisions from some of the coun- 
 try-people, who had driven their cattle hither to 
 save them from the soldiery. The party had fared 
 but scantily during their wearisome journey, and all 
 their present stock of food consisted of a little but. 
 ter and oatmeal, which they could not prepare for 
 eating, as it was dangerous to kindle a fire while 
 their enemies were so near. When, however, 
 Glenaladale and Cameron went down to the huts, 
 they found them deserted, and were obliged to re- 
 turn empty-handed. The place where they were 
 not appearing entirely secure, they removed to a 
 fastness on the brow of the hill, at the head of Loch 
 Naigh. There they resolved to pass the day, and 
 to sleep for a while, that they might be in better 
 condition to make the perilous attempt of penetra- 
 ting through the hostile line : an attempt which 
 could no longer be delayed. Within the distance 
 of a mile there was an English encampment. 
 While the rest of the party were slumbering, Cam. 
 e-on and Glenaladale's brother again went in quest 
 of food. It was three in the afternoon before they 
 returned, and two small cheeses were all they had 
 procured. The tidings they brought were by no 
 means comforting, for on the opposite side of the 
 hill there were upward of a hundred soldiers, bu- 
 sily employed in searching for the country-people 
 who had concealed themselves. This made them 
 keep close for the rest of the day, and they remain- 
 ed undiscovered, though the troops were roaming 
 all around them. 
 
 Towards night, the soldiers being withdrawn, 
 the coast was left clear for the retreat of the
 
 42 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 prince and his followers. They sallied from their 
 hiding-place at eight in the evening, and pressed 
 forward at their best speed to the rugged eminence 
 of Drumachosi, up which they climbed. Directly 
 before them the fires of an English camp were 
 burning. In reconnoitring this post, they advan- 
 ced so near that the voices of the soldiers were 
 distinctly audible. They then ascended a neigh- 
 bouring bill, and beheld from it the fires of another 
 camp. It was between the Scylla and Charybdis 
 of these two posts that they must steer their haz- 
 ardous course. 
 
 With a devotedness in his situation doubly 
 praiseworthy, Cameron volunteered to go forward 
 alone, to ascertain whether there was a possibility 
 of effecting a passage at this point. " If," said he, 
 " I get back, you may venture with more confi- 
 dence, and I shall be better able to guide you.** 
 It is probable that when he made this offer he 
 looked upon himself as going to certain death. 
 Highlanders were at that period peculiarly subject 
 to superstitious feelings, and Cameron was then 
 under the influence of one of those feelings. He 
 had been complaining that his nose itched, and he 
 considered it an infallible indication that they were 
 in extreme danger. Yet such was his native bra- 
 very, and his affection for the son of the man vhom 
 he regarded as his sovereign, that he was proof 
 against omens. We may pity his weakness, but 
 must admire the courage and fidelity which over- 
 came it. 
 
 There are moments when the mind transiently 
 feels the power of notions which it holds in utter 
 contempt. Charles had smiled at Cameron's ab-
 
 PRINCE CHARLES EDWARD. 43 
 
 surd forebodings; but, though he thought them 
 ridiculous, his anxiety to see him return was per- 
 haps increased by them. The daring explorer did 
 return, in spite of all sinister auguries, and he made 
 an encouraging report. Two circumstances were 
 favourable to the party. While the patrols were 
 alternately passing between the posts, they neces- 
 sarily turned their backs on each other during a 
 part of the time, and a chance was thus offered of 
 eluding their vigilance. It was another advantage 
 that where they purposed to break through there 
 was a deep and narrow ravine, hollowed out by 
 the floods, which in winter converted an insignifi- 
 cant mountain stream into a furious torrent. At 
 about two o'clock in the morning, when the pa- 
 trols were supposed to be retiring on either hand, 
 the fugitives silently entered the ravine. Crawl- 
 ing on their hands and knees, and scarcely daring 
 to breathe, they toiled up it, and at length, to their 
 inexpressible joy, emerged beyond the line of posts 
 and sentinels. In a few minutes they arrived at a 
 spot where they were safe from being seen. The 
 magic circle which had so long hemmed them in 
 was thus broken, and they had at least regained 
 the power of choosing to what quarter they would 
 direct their flight. 
 
 Charles now laughingly asked Cameron how his 
 nose felt, to which the Highlander replied that it 
 was much better, but was still rather uncomforta- 
 ble. As the best mode to complete its cure was 
 to get out of danger, they walked on for about two 
 miles till they came to Corriscorridil, on the Glen- 
 elg side of Loch Hourn. There, having found a 
 secluded spot, they sat down to refresh themselves. 
 D
 
 44 PERILOUS iDVENTURES. 
 
 The repast was an humble one ; it consisted of a 
 slice of cheese, which, as they had no bread, the'* 
 covered with oatmeal. Their drink was procured 
 from a neighbouring spring. They remained on 
 this spot the rest of the day, debating upon their 
 future movements ; and it was finally decided that 
 they should direct their course northward, to a 
 part of the Mackenzies' country, which was not 
 infested by the military. They set out at eight 
 o'clock in the evening, and discovered that they 
 had passed the whole day within cannon-shot of 
 two English camps, into one of which they could 
 see a company of soldiers driving a flock of sheep 
 for slaughter. Quickening their pace, they pur- 
 sued their journey till three in the morning, when 
 they entered Glenshiel, a solitary vale on the Earl 
 of Seaforth's estate. 
 
 The party having no provisions, Glenaladale and 
 one of the Macdonalds went to seek for a supply. 
 They aleo meant to find a guide to conduct them 
 to Pollew, on the seacoast, off which place some 
 French vessels had recently been seen. While 
 they were on this quest they fell in with a Glen- 
 garry man, whom the soldiers, who had killed his 
 father the day before, had hunted out of his own 
 country that morning. This man had served in 
 the prince's army ; and, knowing that he was brave 
 and faithful, Glenaladale retained him to act as 
 their conductor in case they should be disappoint- 
 ed in their new design of proceeding to Pollew. 
 It was well he did so ; for he was soon informed 
 that the only French ship which had appeared was 
 gone, and that, even if it had remained, no person 
 could have been procured to lead them to the
 
 PRINCE CHARLES EDWARD. 45 
 
 coast. After partaking of some food which Glen, 
 aladale had obtained, they laid themselves down in 
 a safe spot on the side of a hill, and enjoyed a few 
 hours' sleep. As the services of Donald Cameron 
 could no longer be useful, he now bade them fare- 
 well. 
 
 Late at night they set out, under the guidance 
 of the Glengarry man, and bent their course in the 
 direction of Glenmorisson. They had not gone 
 more than half a mile before Glenaladale discov. 
 ered that he had lost his purse, containing forty 
 guineas, which belonged to the prince, and was all 
 the money they possessed. Charles wished to 
 dissuade him from going back in search of it ; 
 but the latter pointed out the straits to which they 
 would be reduced by the want of it, and his argu- 
 ments prevailed. Glenaladale, accordingly, with 
 one of the Macdonalds, went to seek for the purse, 
 and Charles, the other Macdonald, and the guide 
 made a halt to wait for their return. The prince 
 and his companions stepped aside from the path, 
 and in a short time they perceived an officer and 
 two soldiers who were armed advancing along it. 
 They hid themselves behind a rock, and the mil- 
 itary passed by without seeing them. Had Glen- 
 aladale not gone back, the fugitives would have 
 come full face upon their enemies. Thanking 
 Providence for his own narrow escape, the prince 
 felt considerable anxiety with respect to the safety 
 of his absent friends. Glenaladale and Macdonald, 
 however, came back unhurt. They had taken 
 another road on their return, and consequently had 
 not been met by the English party. The purse, 
 too. was regained. It had been found by a little
 
 40 PERILOUS ADVEiNTUKES. 
 
 boy who had brought them some milk to their for- 
 mer resting-place. Charles was so elated by this 
 deliverance, that he declared " he did not believe 
 he should be taken, even though he had a mind 
 to be so." 
 
 The march was continued through the remainder 
 of the night, and the next morning they paused in 
 Strathcluanie, a small vale which forms the western 
 extremity of Glenmorisson. There they selected 
 a safe spot on a hillside, and rested till three 
 in the afternoon, when they pursued their way. 
 Scarcely had they travelled a mile before feelings 
 of grief and anger, not unmixed with apprehen- 
 sion, were excited in their minds by hearing the 
 troops firing on the hill above them. The military 
 ruffians were wantonly shooting the poor peasants, 
 who had fled to these mountain fastnesses with their 
 cattle. The mental gloom thus thrown over the 
 prince and his followers was deepened by the per. 
 sonal discomfort they were enduring. They were 
 famished and toilworn, and the rain poured down 
 without intermission during the whole of their 
 journey. It was late at night when the wanderers 
 halted on the top of a hill between Glenmorisson 
 and Strathglass, and there their situation waa 
 no better than it had been throughout the day. 
 Drenched with wet, and unable to procure a fire, 
 they were obliged to huddle into an open cave, 
 where they could neither lie down nor sleep, and 
 where their only solace was a pipe of tobacco. 
 
 In pursuance of the plan for taking shelter among 
 the Mackenzies, they continued their route towards 
 Ross-shire. By the time they reached the braes of 
 Kintail they were almost sinking for want of food.
 
 PRINCE CHARLES EDWARD. 47 
 
 The district in which they were travelling was in- 
 habited by an uncivilized clan, called the Macraws, 
 among whom there were few gentlemen. As, how- 
 ever, it was indispensable to obtain provisions, 
 Glenaladale went to the house of one Christopher 
 Macraw, and desired that he would supply them 
 with some, as he and two of his friends were almost 
 dying with hunger. Macraw insisted upon know, 
 ing who the friends were, to which Glenaladale 
 prudently replied that they were the young Clan- 
 ronald and a relation of his own. Upon this, the 
 churl consented to furnish them with some victuals, 
 for which he took care to make them pay an ex- 
 travagant price. The liberal remuneration seemed 
 to open his heart a little, and he accordingly invi- 
 ted them to pass the night at his house. His invi- 
 tation was accepted. It was fortunate indeed that 
 Glenaladale had concealed the prince's name ; for 
 " in the course of conversation, Macraw exclaimed 
 against the Highlanders who had taken up arms 
 for Charles, and said that they and those who still 
 protected him were fools and madmen, and that 
 they ought to deliver themselves and their country 
 from distress by giving him up, and taking the re* 
 ward which the government had offered." 
 
 That evening a Macdonald, who had served in 
 the prince's army, came to Macraw 's house, knew 
 Charles, and earnestly entreated Glenaladale to 
 take care that Christopher did not discover the 
 quality of his guest : a caution which was kindly 
 meant, but which Macraw himself had unconscious- 
 ly rendered needless. Finding that this man waa 
 warmly attached to the prince, and that he had 
 traversed the country in various directions* Glen
 
 48 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 aladale made known to him their scheme of seek- 
 ing an asylum among the Mackenzies, and desired 
 him to give his opinion as to the course which it 
 would be safest to pursue. The plan of journeying 
 into Ross-shire Macdonald considered to be fraught 
 with danger, some of the royal troops being then 
 among the Mackenzies ; and he suggested a more 
 eligible place of refuge. He had, he said, spent 
 the preceding night on the great mountain of Co- 
 rado, which lies between Kintail and Glenmorisson, 
 in the most remote part of which mountain, called 
 Corambiam, there dwelt seven men, upon whom the 
 prince might implicitly depend, they being brave 
 and faithful, and most of them having borne arms 
 in his cause. 
 
 Charles had long been anxiously wishing to join, 
 or, if that could not be effected, at least to get near- 
 er to, his friends Lochiel and Clunie, who were 
 secreted in that part of Inverness-shire which com- 
 prises the districts of Lochaber and Badenoch. 
 To remove into Ross-shire would separate him 
 more widely from them, and he therefore gladly 
 acceded to a project which, on the contrary, had 
 the recommendation of bringing him closer to his 
 trusty partisans. The persons to whom he was 
 about intrusting himself were in fact robbers ; but 
 this circumstance afforded no reason for suspect- 
 ing that they would betray him ; they were men 
 proscribed for their fidelity to the Stuart race ; 
 men whom hard necessity, not vice, had driven into 
 the Highland solitudes, and deprived of all means 
 of subsistence but such as they could seize upon 
 in their predatory excursions. v ;,, 
 
 After having been forty-eight hour? without food,
 
 PRINCE CHARLES EDWAilD. 49 
 
 Charles and his fellows approached the spot where 
 their new hosts resided. It was a rocky cave, in 
 the side of the most wild and craggy part of the 
 mountain. Glenaladale and the guide went on to 
 the cave, leaving Charles and the two Macdonalds 
 at a little distance. Six of the men were just sit- 
 ting down to dine upon a sheep which they had 
 killed that day. Glenaladale congratulated them 
 on their good cheer, and they hospitably invited 
 him to partake of it. He had, he said, another 
 friend, for whom he must request the same favour. 
 They inquired who his friend was, and he told 
 them that it was his chief, young Clanronald. 
 Heartily welcome should Clanronald be, they re- 
 plied ; they would gain food for him at the points 
 of their swords. Charles was now introduced, and, 
 notwithstanding his deplorable plight, was instant- 
 ly recognised by his humble friends, who threw 
 themselves on their knees to do him homage. The 
 ceremony being over, the prince gladly shared in 
 their repast, and afterward resigned himself to 
 sleep, of which he stood in great need. 
 
 With respect to attire, Charles was, perhaps, at 
 this moment in a worse condition than any of his 
 adherents in the cave. Hugh Chisholm, who was 
 one of them, thus describes the prince's garb : " He 
 had a bonnet on his head, and a wretched yellow 
 wig ; a clouted handkerchief about his neck. He 
 had a coat of coarse, dark-coloured cloth, a Stir- 
 ling tartan waistcoat, much worn, a pretty good 
 belted plaid, tartan hose, and Highland brogues 
 tied wilh thongs, so much worn that they would 
 scarcely stick upon his feet. His shirt, and he had 
 ,iot another, was of the colour of saffnn." The 
 244
 
 60 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 defects of his dress, as far as regarded linen, were 
 speedily remedied by his active and zealous asso- 
 ciates. Having obtained information that a de- 
 tachment of the royal troops, headed by Lord 
 George Sackville, was ordered to march from Fort 
 Augustus to Strathglass, and must pass not far from 
 their abode, they laid an ambuscade to plunder the 
 baggage. Allowing the troops to get out of sight, 
 they sallied forth upon the servants, who were 
 lagging behind, and made themselves masters of 
 some portmanteaus, the contents of which relieved 
 Charles, for the present, from the necessity of 
 wearing a saffron-coloured shirt. 
 
 With these men the prince remained above 
 three weeks, in which time they more than once 
 changed their habitation. In one instance he 
 lodged for three days in a sheepcote, having a bed 
 made for him of turf, with the grassy side upward, 
 and a pillow of the same material. As they never 
 removed beyond a few miles from Fort Augustus, 
 some of them used frequently to go thither at 
 night to procure intelligence from the villagers, 
 and occasionally they brought the newspapers for 
 his perusal. But, kindly as he was treated by 
 them, Charles, either from restlessness or a desire 
 of better society, expressed to Glenaladale his wish 
 " to put himself into the hands of some of the 
 neighbouring gentlemen, and desired him to inquire 
 about them, and learn who was the most propei 
 person for him to apply to." Glenaladale began to 
 execute his commission by talking of the gentle* 
 men in the vicinity, and inquiring their characters. 
 The shrewd Highlanders at once guessed what 
 was meant by the questions, and entreated him to
 
 PRINCE CHARLES EDWARD. 51 
 
 dissuade .the prince from carrying his purpose into 
 effect. " No reward," they said, " could be any 
 temptation to them ; for if they betrayed the prince 
 they must leave the country, as nobody would 
 speak to them except to curse them ; whereas 
 thirty thousand pounds was a great reward to a 
 poor gentleman, who could go to Edinburgh or 
 London with his money, where he would find peo- 
 ple enough to live with him, and eat his meat and 
 drink his wine." 
 
 About this lime an event took place which con- 
 tributed greatly to relax the hot pursuit after the 
 princely fugitive. There had fled for shelter to 
 the bills of Glenmorisson a young gentleman of 
 Edinburgh, named Roderic McKenzie, who had 
 been in the Scottish army. He was tall and gen- 
 teel, well dressed, nearly the size and age of 
 Charles, and bore that distant resemblance to him 
 in features which might easily cause persons who 
 had seldom seen them to be mistaken as to their 
 identity. One day he was fallen in with by a 
 party of soldiers. Having vainly tried to escape, 
 and knowing that he had no mercy to expect, he 
 resolved, not only to sell his life as dearly as pos- 
 sible, but also to render his fall beneficial to the 
 prince, under whose standard he had combated. 
 The heroic feeling and presence of mind which at 
 such a moment could inspire so noble an idea, can- 
 not be too much admired. His dress, his manners, 
 and his desperate resistance all combined to make 
 them believe that he was the man whom they were 
 seeking. To secure at once their own safety and 
 their valuable prize, they fired, and the victim fell. 
 With his last breath he exclaimed. "You have 
 E
 
 52 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 killed your prince," and this completed their delu- 
 sion. They cut off the head, and hastened with it 
 to Fort Augustus, where many persons pronounced 
 it to be that of Charles. Nor was it till it had 
 been carried to London, and examined by one of 
 the prince's imprisoned body -servants, that the 
 truth was discovered. In the mean while, a con- 
 siderable portion of the troops had been withdrawn 
 from the Highlands ; and the remainder, being no 
 longer animated by the prospect of gaining thirty 
 thousand pounds, became less vigilant than before. 
 Of this comparative quiet Charles availed him- 
 self, to make an effort to join his friends in Loch, 
 aber or Badenoch. Peter Grant, the most active 
 of his seven companions, was accordingly de- 
 apatched on the 18th of August, to confer with 
 Clunes Cameron, who was in the vicinity of Loch 
 Arkeig. Grant returned the next day with a mes- 
 sage from Cameron, offering to meet the prince at 
 the head of Glencoich, where he had a hut in a 
 secure place. Charles set out in a thick fog, ac- 
 companied by ten persons, forded the water of 
 Garry, which was up to his middle, and at length 
 was compelled by storm and darkness to halt on 
 the side of Drumnadial, a high mountain near Loch 
 Lochie. It rained excessively throughout the night, 
 and they had neither shelter nor food of any kind. 
 Next morning Grant was sent to see whethei 
 Clunes was at the place appointed ; the prince and 
 his attendants remained upon the hill, destitute of 
 victuals, and not daring to seek for any. Grant 
 came back with tidings that Cameron had been to 
 the place of meeting, but had gone away on not 
 finding them. He had, however, better news to
 
 PRINCE CHARLES EDWA.RD. 53 
 
 communicate ; he had shot a deer as he was re- 
 turning, and hidden it in a secure spot. At night 
 the hungry wanderers joyfully hastened to where 
 the carcass was concealed, and, though they had 
 neither bread nor salt, they made a hearty meal. 
 Clunes joined them on the following morning, and 
 conducted them to a hut in a wood at the farther 
 end of Loch Arkeig. Here the robbers took leave 
 of the prince, with the exception of Grant and 
 Chisholm, who still remained with him for a while. 
 In and about this hut Charles and Clunes contin- 
 ued for several days ; they lodged in it when the 
 weather was bad and no troops were out, but at 
 other times kept in the mountain. 
 
 Eager as Charles was for a junction with Lo- 
 chiel and Clunie, he was compelled to postpone it 
 for the present, as Clunes assured him all the fer- 
 ries were so carefully watched that it would be im- 
 possible for him at this moment to reach the coun- 
 tries of Rannoch and Badenoch. His friends in 
 Badenoch were equally eager to obtain some in- 
 formation respecting him. They accordingly de- 
 spatched McDonald of Lochgarry, and Dr. Came- 
 ron, Lochiel's brother, to make inquiries on the 
 north side of the lakes. These messengers speed- 
 ily fell in with Clunes, who offered to take them to 
 the prince. 
 
 The prince was then sleeping on the hill, with 
 one of Clunes's sons, and Peter Grant was keep, 
 ing watch over them. Grant himself was over, 
 come with fatigue, and could not help nodding; 
 and, while his senses were thus obscured, Clunes, 
 Lochgarry, and Dr. Cameron, with two servants, 
 all armed, had approached within a short distance.
 
 54 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 Believing that the strangers were militia, Grant 
 roused the sleepers, and proposed that they should 
 all retreat to the top of the hill. Charles was of 
 opinion that this would be an impolitic step. It 
 was, he said, too late to fly ; their enemies would 
 either overtake them, or come near enough to bring 
 them down with their muskets ; the best thing they 
 could do was to get behind the stones, take de- 
 liberate aim, and fire upon them as they advanced. 
 As Grant and he were excellent marksmen, they 
 would, he thought, be certain of doing some execu- 
 tion ; and he had in reserve a pair of pocket-pis- 
 tols, which he now produced for the first lime. 
 Grant, who was not fond of running away, willing- 
 ly acquiesced in this scheme. Their muskets were 
 already levelled on the stones, and they were just 
 going to fire, when they recognised Clunes, and 
 the sight of him convinced them that they were not 
 in danger. A minute more, and Charles would 
 probably have destroyed some of his most devoted 
 partisans. The joy which he felt at having avoid- 
 ed killing his friends was enhanced by the news of 
 Lochiel having recovered from his wounds. 
 
 At this moment the prince's companions were 
 dressing part of a cow which they had killed the 
 day before, and the new-comers shared in the re- 
 past. Charles ate heartily, and was much delight- 
 ed with some bread that had been procured for him 
 at Fort Augustus ; it was a luxury to which he had 
 long been a stranger. Though for months he had 
 not slept in a bed, and had been exposed to all 
 weathers, he was cheerful and healthy. For his 
 personal appearance, indeed, little could be said ; 
 it was scarcely equal to that of Robipson Crusoe in
 
 PRINCE CHARLES EDWARD. 55 
 
 the solitary island. His stock of plundered linen 
 seems to have been exhausted, for his shirt is de- 
 scribed as being extremely soiled ; his dress con- 
 sisted of an old black coat, a plaid, and a phi la beg ; 
 his feet were bare, his beard was long, a dirk and 
 a pistol hung by his side, and he carried a musket 
 in his hand. 
 
 The time was not yet come for Charles to carry 
 into effect his design of joining Lochiel. Dr. Cam- 
 eron and Lochgarry advised its postponement. 
 There was, they told him, a report abroad that 
 Charles and Lochiel had gone over Corryarrick 
 with thirty men ; and this report could not fail to 
 rouse the slumbering vigilance of the king's troops. 
 It was therefore advisable for him to remain yet 
 a while with Clunes. They then arranged that Dr. 
 Cameron should return among his brother's people 
 in Lochaber, to collect intelligence, and that Loch- 
 garry should be posted between Loch Lochie and 
 Loch Oich to watch the movements of the troops. 
 Glenaladale was at the same time sent to the west- 
 ern coast, to wait for the arrival of the French ves- 
 sels, and give notice of their coming. 
 
 A few days after the separation of the party 
 Charles was again placed in jeopardy. He had 
 passed the night upon the mountain with Peter 
 Grant and one of Clunes's sons, and early in the 
 morning he was awoke by a child, who told him 
 that she saw a body of red. coats. On looking down 
 into the vale he perceived a number of soldiers de- 
 stroying the hut, and making a search in the neigh- 
 bouring woods. Information of the abode of the 
 fugitives in that quarter had been carried to Fort 
 Augustus. There was ac time to be lost. In the
 
 56 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 face of the hill there was a deep channel, the bed oi 
 a winter torrent, the bottom of which was not vis- 
 ible to the enemy. Up this they ascended, and 
 then made their way to another extremely high, 
 precipitous, and craggy eminence called Mullanta- 
 gart. There they remained all day without a mor. 
 sel of food. In the evening another son of Clunes 
 came, and told them that his father would meet 
 them at a certain place in the hills, somewhat dis- 
 tant, with provisions ; and then returned to let his 
 father know that he might expect them. At night, 
 Charles, with his attendants, set out, and travelled 
 through most dreadful ways, passing among rocks 
 and stumps of trees, which tore their clothes and 
 limbs. At one time the guides proposed they should 
 halt and stay all night; but Charles, though ex- 
 hausted to the greatest degree, insisted on proceed- 
 ing to meet Clunes. At last, worn out with fatigue 
 and want of food, he was not able to go on without 
 help, and the two guides, holding each of them one 
 of his' arms, supported him through the last part of 
 this laborious journey. When they came to the 
 place appointed, they found Clunes and his son, who 
 had a cow killed, and part of it dressed for them. 
 In this remote place Charles remained with Clunes 
 till Lochgarry and Dr. Cameron came there, who 
 informed him that the passes were not so strict- 
 ly guarded now as formerly, and that he might 
 safely cross Loch Arkeig, and get to the great fir- 
 wood belonging to Lochiel, on the west side of the 
 lake, near Auchnacarie, where he might stay, and 
 corresp3nd with Lochiel and Clunes till it was set, 
 tied when and where he should. meet them. 
 
 At this place of refuge Charles received a leU&
 
 PRINCE CHARLES EDWARD. 57 
 
 from Ljchiel and Clunie, stating that they were in 
 Badenoch, and appointing a day for the latter chief 
 to meet him, and conduct him to their habitation. 
 The prince was, however, so impatient to see hia 
 friends, that he would not wait for Clunie's arrival, 
 but, taking the first guide he could procure, set out 
 immediately with Dr. Cameron, Lochgarry, and 
 two servants, on his journey to Badenoch. They 
 travelled all night, reached on the following day a 
 place called Corineuir, passed the great glen of 
 Albyn unmolested, and came to Mallanuir, where 
 Lochiel was residing in a wretched hut, which had 
 been his abode for a considerable time. 
 
 Charles was at this moment in danger of falling 
 by the hands of his most devoted friends. When 
 his party, all of whom were armed, was seen at a 
 distance, it excited no small alarm in the mind of 
 Lochiel, who mistook it for a detachment of militia 
 from a body which was stationed about five miles 
 off. As his wounds would not allow of his walking 
 without assistance, flight was out of the question, 
 and he therefore determined to have a struggle 
 with his enemies. He had reason to hope that he 
 should be the victor, for he had four companions, 
 and twelve loaded muskets, besides pistols. The 
 guns were already levelled, and a volley was OR 
 the point of being fired at the intruders, when, for. 
 tanately, some of them were recognised. Per- 
 ceiving that the prince himself was among them, 
 Lochiel advanced as nimbly as his lameness would 
 permit, to give him a hearty welcome. The joy 
 was mutual. Lochiel would fain have kneeled to 
 him, but the prince laid his hand upon the chief's 
 shoulder, and said, " No, no, my dear Lochiel ; we
 
 58 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 know not who may be looking upon us from yon- 
 der hills, and should they see any such motions, 
 they will directly conclude that I am here." 
 
 In spite of his fatigue, the prince was gay and 
 in high spirits. The habitation into which he waa 
 conducted by Lochiel was an exceedingly bumble 
 one ; but, besides that it contained his faithful 
 friends, it had one great charm in the eyes of a 
 hungry wanderer who had long been used to scan- 
 ty meals. It contained a plentiful stock of pro- 
 visions : there was abundance of mutton, some 
 good beef sausages, a large quantity of butter and 
 cheese, an excellent and ample ham, and an anker 
 of whiskey. The merit of the latter article was 
 speedily tried by the prince, who drank to the 
 health of all his followers. Some minced collops 
 were then dressed for him with butter in a large 
 saucepan, which was their only cooking utensil. 
 Charles ate them out of the saucepan with a silver 
 spoon, and, smiling, said, " Now, gentlemen, I live 
 like a prince !" When he had dined, he asked 
 Lochiel whether he had always fared so well since 
 he had been compelled to hide himself. "Yes, 
 sir," answered Lochiel; "for nearly these three 
 months that I have been hereabouts with my cous- 
 in Clunie, he has so well provided me that I have 
 always had plenty of such as you see ; and I thank 
 Heaven that your highness has got through* so 
 many dangers to partake of it." 
 
 Two days after the prince had joined Lochiel 
 Clunie came back from Auchnacarie, whither he 
 had gone in search of him. Clunie was about to 
 kneel on entering the hut, but Charles stopped this 
 ceremony by giving him a warm embrace. " Clu-
 
 PRINCE CHARLES EDWARD. 59 
 
 nie," said he, * i regret that you and jour regi- 
 ment were not at the battle of Culloden. li was 
 not till very lately that I knew you were so near 
 on that day." 
 
 Fearing that Charles might be endangered by 
 too long a stay in one place, Clunie, the day after 
 his return, conducted the prince about two miles 
 farther, to a little shieling or hut called Uiskchibra. 
 This new abode was smoky and uncomfortable in 
 the highest degree. Charles nevertheless contin- 
 ued there for two days and nights without mur- 
 muring. At the end of that time he was removed 
 to a habitation somewhat less inconvenient and 
 much more romantic, which Clunie had fitted up 
 for him in a secluded spot. 
 
 This asylum, which bore the name of The Cage, 
 was well adapted for concealment. " It was sit- 
 uated," says its contriver, " within a small, thick 
 bush of wood, in the face of a very rough, burh, 
 and rocky mountain called Letternilichk, still u 
 part of Benalder, full of great stones and crevices, 
 and some scattered wood interspersed. There 
 were first some rows of trees laid down, in order 
 to level a floor for the habitation ; and as the place 
 was steep, this raised the lower side to an equal 
 height with the other ; and these tre.es, in the way 
 of joists or planks, were levelled vrith earth and 
 gravel. There were between the trees, growing 
 naturally on their own roots, some stakes fixed in 
 the earth, which, with the trees, were interwoven 
 with ropes made with heath and birch twigs up to 
 the top of the Cage, it being of a round, or, rather, 
 oval shape, and the whole thatched and covered 
 over with moss. This whole fabric hung, as it
 
 60 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 were, by a large tree, which reclined from the one 
 end all along the roof to the other, and which gave 
 it the name of the Cage ; and by chance there hap- 
 pened to be two small stones at a small distance 
 from one another, in the side next the precipice, 
 resembling the pillars of a chimney, where the fire 
 was placed. The smoke had its vent out here all 
 along the face of the rock, which was so much of 
 the same colour that one could discover no differ- 
 ence in the clearest day. The Cage was no lar- 
 ger than to contain six or seven persons, four of 
 whom were frequently employed playing at cards, 
 one idle looking on, one baking, and another firing 
 bread and cooking." 
 
 Charles now breathed more freely. The pur- 
 suit of him was much slackened, and, at all events, 
 he was no longer hemmed round within a narrow 
 circle, but could direct his flight either to the north 
 or the south, with the certainty of being received 
 and concealed by some of his partisans. His per. 
 ils, toils, and wanderings were, indeed, nearly a, 
 an end. The Cage was the last refuge to which 
 he was driven in Scotland. The French vessels, 
 to watch for the arrival of which Glenaladale had 
 been sent to the coast, at length made their ap- 
 pearance. Glenaladale promptly set out to com- 
 municate to the prince the joyful information. 
 But he found that Charles was gone ; nor was 
 Ciunes at hand, who had been left behind to ap- 
 prize Glenaladale of the prince's movements. The 
 approach of a party of soldiers had compelled 
 Ciunes himself to shift his quarters. While Glen- 
 aladale was entirely at a loss what step to take, 
 and was sorely grieved at the idea that this oppor-
 
 PRINCE CHARLES EDWARD. Ol 
 
 tunity m'.ght be lost, he accidentally met with a 
 poor woman who directed him to the place where 
 Clunes was concealed. That gentleman delayed 
 not a moment sending off a despatch to Charles ; 
 and Glenaladale meanwhile returned to the coast 
 to make known to the French officers that the 
 prince was on his way t > embark. 
 
 Charles received the glad tidings on the 13th of 
 September, the twelfth day of his residence in the 
 Cage. He began his journey without delay, in 
 company with Lochiel, Lochgarry, and other faith- 
 ful adherents, resting in the day and travelling by 
 night, and reached Moydart on the 19th. On his 
 arrival he found a great number of his adherents 
 collected together. Expresses had been sent to 
 all the fugitive partisans of the Stuarts within 
 reach, that they might take this chance of escaping, 
 and more than a hundred persons had availed 
 themselves of it. The embarcation of the prince 
 took place on the 20th at Borodale, the spot where 
 fourteen months before he had landed to commence 
 his daring and ill-starred enterprise ; and, after a 
 voyage of nine days, he landed in safety, with his 
 exiled friends, at Rcscoff, near Morlaix, on the 
 coast of Brittany.
 
 62 PERILOUS ADVENTURF.8. 
 
 ESCAPE OF J. J. CASANOVA FROM THE 
 STATE-PRISON OF VENICE. 
 
 THE narrative of Casanova's incarceration in 
 the state-prison of Venice, and of his escape from 
 thence, is perhaps one of the most interesting 
 that has ever been made public. Remarkable as a 
 man of talent, Casanova was at least as remarka- 
 ble for his unbridled and unblushing libertinism. 
 He seems to have been incapable of feeling shame 
 for his misdeeds. The account which he has left 
 of his own career, witty and animated as that ac- 
 count invariably is, almost tempts us to wish that 
 the writer had found his Venetian jail impervious 
 to his persevering efforts. He was, however, not 
 without some redeeming qualities; and we must 
 bear in mind that he lived in a corrupt age, and 
 among a licentious people. He has been charac- 
 terized, and not unaptly, as "a sort of Gil Bias of 
 the eighteenth century." 
 
 Casanova, whose Christian name was John 
 james, and who thought proper to add"de Sein- 
 galt" to his surname, was by birth a Venetian, but 
 claimed to be descended from the a icient Spanish 
 house of Palafox. Talent seems to have been large- 
 ly bestowed upon his family ; his two youngei 
 brothers, Francis and John Baptist, attained a high 
 reputation as painters, and the latter is also ad- 
 vantageously known as a writer upon the pictorial 
 art. John James was born at Venice in 1725,
 
 CASANOVA. 63 
 
 tudied at Padua, and distinguished himself by his 
 precocious abilities, and his rapid progress in learn, 
 ing. His wit and conversational powers made him 
 a favourite guest among the patricians of his native 
 city. He was designed for the Church ; but his 
 scandalous intrigues disgraced his character, and 
 even brought imprisonment upon him. After a 
 variety of adventures, he embarked in 1743 for 
 Constantinople, where he formed an acquaintance 
 with the celebrated Count Bonneval. A quarrel at 
 Corfu compelled him to return to Venice. There 
 for a while he gained subsistence as a violin player. 
 By a lucky chance he acquired the friendship of a 
 rich and powerful Venetian. He happened to be 
 present one day when the senator Bragadino was 
 struck with a fit. Casanova boldly prohibited the 
 use of the medicine which the physicians had pre- 
 scribed, and by his own skill succeeded in recover, 
 ing the patient. The grateful Bragadino took him 
 into his house, and thenceforward seems to have al- 
 most considered him as a son. But the licentious- 
 ness of Casanova stood in the way of his perma- 
 nent happiness. He was anew under the necessity 
 of quitting his native place, and successively other 
 cities which he visited, and he spent some years in 
 wandering over Italy, and to Paris. 
 
 Again Casanova found his way back to Venice, 
 where his converse and his social powers procured 
 for him a hearty welcome. But he did not long 
 remain in safety. The malice of an enemy, aided 
 by his own flagrant imprudence, at length brought 
 him under the lash of the Venetian government. 
 His dissolute character undoubtedly justified sus- 
 picion ; he himself confesses, with a shameless
 
 6\ PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 candour, that " he was anything but pious, and that 
 there was not a more determined libertine in Ven. 
 ice." It was, however, no love of morality that 
 prompted the proceedings against him. Among 
 the many individuals whom he had offended by his 
 tongue, his pen, and his rivalry, there happened to 
 be one of the state inquisitors, and that worthy per- 
 sonage availed himself of his office to take ven- 
 geance on the offender. Convenient witnesses 
 were not difficult to be found in Venice. Three 
 men came forward as Casanova's accusers, and in 
 their depositions they mingled a small portion of 
 truth with much absurd falsehood. They swore 
 that he ate meat on the prohibited days, and that 
 he went to mass only to hear the music ; two 
 charges which no doubt were true. Their inven- 
 tions were, however, more formidable than their 
 facts. They asserted that he was vehemently sus- 
 pected of freemasonry ; that the large sums lost by 
 him in gaming he obtained by selling to foreign 
 ambassadors the state secrets which he artfully 
 wormed out of his patrician friends ; and that he 
 believed only in the evil one ; in proof of which 
 last accusation they urged that, when he lost his 
 money at play, he never, as all good Christians did, 
 gave vent to execrations against the prince of dark- 
 ness. His addiction to magical and cabalistical 
 studies was also adduced as evidence of his hereti- 
 cal guilt. 
 
 On the morning of the 25th of July, 1755, the 
 head of the Venetian police entered the chamber 
 of Casanova, roused him from sleep, demanded his 
 books and papers, and bade the astonished prisoner 
 to rise and follow him. When he was told that he
 
 CASANOVA. 65 
 
 was arrested by order of the tribunal of the State 
 Inquisition, he acknowledges that, on hearing the 
 name of this formidable tribunal, he was over- 
 cowered, and that his wonted courage gave place 
 to the most implicit obedience. While the officer 
 was securing the manuscripts and books, Casanova 
 had his hair dressed, and put on a silken suit, as 
 though he had been going to a ball instead of a 
 prison. The papers and volumes, among the lat- 
 ter of which were his cabalistic books, being col- 
 ected, he quitted the chamber with the head of the 
 jolice, and was surprised to find more than thirty 
 plicemen in waiting. " Is it noi," he sarcastically 
 observes, " extraordinary, that in England, where 
 coirage is innate, one man is considered sufficient 
 toarrest another, while in my country, where cow. 
 arijce has set up her home, thirty are required for 
 theourpose ? Probably a coward is still more one 
 whei he attacks than when he is attacked, and that 
 mafcs the person assaulted bolder ; the truth is, in 
 Venre one man is often seen opposing twenty 
 sbirri- he gives them a good beating, and escapes." 
 Fou- only of the officers were retained by the 
 chief, >ho proceeded in a gondola to his dwelling 
 with th> prisoner, and logked him up in a room, 
 where h remained for four hours. On his return, 
 he informed Casanova that he was directed to con- 
 vey him o the Camerotti : cells which are known 
 also by tfe name of I Piombi, from their being im- 
 mediately ander the leaden roof of the state prison.* 
 
 * These suterraneous cells are nineteen in number. " They 
 re in reality graves," says Casanova; "but they are called 
 wells," becaue they are always two feet deep in water, the sea 
 penetrating thisugh the gratings that supply the wretched light 
 that is allowedto them. The prisoner who will not stand all 
 245
 
 66 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 This prison was opposite to the ducal palace, on 
 the canal called Rio di Palazzo, and was connected 
 with it by a covered bridge, which was emphatically 
 denominated the Bridge of Sighs. 
 
 On reaching his destination, Casanova was pre- 
 
 day long in salt water must sit on a trestle, that serves him at 
 night for a bedstead ; on that is placed his mattress, and each 
 morning his bread, water, and soup, which he must swallow im- 
 mediately if he do not wish to contend for it with large water 
 rats that infest these wretched abodes. In these fearful due 
 geons, where the prisoner remains for life, some have, notwiU- 
 standing the misery of their situation and the meagerness of Uur 
 food, attained a considerable age. I knew of a man of the nare 
 of Beguelin, a Frenchman, who, having served as a spy for fte 
 republic in a war with the Turks, had sold himself as an agnt 
 also to them ; he was condemned to death, but his sentence /as 
 changed to perpetual imprisonment in the ' wells.' He was f ur- 
 and-forty years of age when he was first immured, yet he 'ved 
 seven-and-thirty years in them ; he could have known only iim- 
 ger and misery, yet thought dum vita superest, bene est, that -'hile 
 life remains, it is good." 
 
 " On the first arrival of the French," says Lord Byron " tha 
 Venetians hastily blocked or broke up the deeper of thee dun- 
 geons. You may still, however, descend by a trapdor, and 
 crawl down through holes, half choked by rubbish, to tfe depth 
 of two stories below the first range. If you are in wan of con- 
 solation for the extinction of patrician power, perhaps ou may 
 find it there. Scarcely a ray of light glimmers into tte narrow 
 gallery which leads to the cells, and the places of cafinement 
 themselves are totally dark. A small hole in the wa admitted 
 the damp air of the passages, and served for the intrduction of 
 the prisoner's food. A wooden pallet, raised a fo* from the 
 ground, was the only furniture. The conductors t you that a 
 light was not allowed. The cells are about five paps in length, 
 two and a half in width, and seven feet in heigh. They are 
 directly beneath one another, and respiration is scnewhat diffi- 
 cult in the lower holes. Only one prisoner was fnnd when the 
 Republicans descended into these hideous recesses and he is said 
 to have been confined sixteen years. But the nmates of tha 
 dungeons beneath had left traces of their repentnce or of their 
 despair, which are still visible, and may, perhps, owe some- 
 thing to recent ingenuity. Some of the detains appear to have 
 offended against, and others to have belongd to, the sacred 
 twdy."
 
 CASANOVA. 6? 
 
 sealed to the secretary of the inquisitors, who iDere- 
 iy cast a glance on him, and said, " It is he ; secure 
 him well." He was then led up into a dirty gar- 
 ret about six yards long and two broad, lighted 
 through a hole in the roof. He supposed that he 
 was to be confined here, but he was not to be so 
 leniently dealt with. The jailer applied a large 
 key to a strong iron-bound door about three feet 
 and a half high, in the centre of which was a grated 
 lole eight inches square. While the jailer was 
 loing this, the prisoner's attention was engaged 
 upon a singular machine of iron which was fixed 
 in the wall. Its use was explained to him, in a 
 toie of levity accompanied by laughter, as though 
 there had been some excellent joke in the matter. 
 It vas an instrument similar to the Spanish garotte, 
 for strangling those who were condemned by the 
 illustrious inquisitors. After having received this 
 consolatory explanation, he was ushered into his 
 cell, vhich he could not enter without stooping till 
 he waj nearly bent double. The door was closed 
 on him and he was asked through the grating what 
 he woud have to eat. The sudden calamity which 
 had befUlen him had, as may well be supposed, 
 deadened his appetite and soured his temper, and 
 he sullenV replied that he had not yet thought 
 about whavhe would have. The question was not 
 repeated : \e was left alone, listened to the keeper 
 locking dooi after door, and then leaned against 
 the grating it. confused and gloomy meditation. 
 
 When he tad a little recovered from the first 
 shock, Casanon began to explore his dungeon. It 
 was so low tht he was obliged to stoop as he 
 groped along, anl there was neither bed, chair, noi 
 F
 
 68 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 table in it. There was, indeed, nothing but a shelf, 
 on which he deposited the silk mantle, hat, and 
 plume, and other finery in which he had so un- 
 seasonably arrayed himself. The place was in- 
 volved in all but utter darkness. There was, it is 
 true, a window, or rather aperture, of two feet 
 square, but it was ingeniously contrived to admit 
 the smallest possible quantity of light. Not only 
 was it thickly checkered by broad iron bars, but 
 immediately above it was a beam of eighteen inches 
 diameter, which crossed before the opening in the 
 
 iOof. 
 
 The heat now became so intolerable that it drove 
 him to the grating in the door, where he coud 
 rest by leaning on his elbows. From this loophfle 
 he could see droves of rats running about the gir- 
 ret, and even coming close up to the grating. The 
 sight made him shudder (for rats were his aversion), 
 and he hastily shut the wicket. Hour after .lour 
 passed away, and no one came near him. He be- 
 gan to feel the misery of solitude, and though he 
 had no desire for food, he was pained by the eglect 
 which left him without it. As the day advanced, 
 his passions rose almost to madness; he howled 
 stamped, cursed, and screamed for more than an 
 hour. No notice whatever was taken of )im ; and 
 at length, it being pitch-dark, he tied t handker- 
 chief round his head, and stretched hinself on the 
 floor. There he lay for some time, hs mind dis- 
 tracted with contending thoughts and -motions, till 
 sleep brought him a welcome relief. He had slept 
 for three hours, when he was aroused by the mid- 
 night bell. Stretching out his hanr for a handker- 
 c'.ief, it met another, which waf of icy stiffness
 
 CASANOVA. 69 
 
 and coldness. His hair stood on end, all his facuU 
 ties were palsied by fear, and for some minutes he 
 was unable to move. Recovering himself a little, 
 he thought that his imagination might have deceived 
 him. He extended his hand once more, and still 
 the frozen hand was there. The idea now occurred 
 to him that a corpse had been placed by his side 
 while he slept. A third time he stretched out his 
 hand to ascertain whether his conjecture was right, 
 and in doing this he moved his left arm, and discov- 
 ered that he had been terrified by his own hand, 
 which was rendered cold and rigid by his having 
 lain on it for some hours. " In itself," says he, 
 " the discovery was laughable enough ; but, instead 
 of enlivening me, it rather suggested the gloomiest 
 reflections. I saw myself in a place where, if what 
 was false seemed true, truth itself became a dream ; 
 where reason lost half her powers, and where the 
 fancy fell a prey to delusive hopes or fearful de. 
 spondencies. I began to be distrustful of the reality 
 of everything which presents itself to our senses or 
 our mind." 
 
 With the return of day, hope revived in the 
 breast of Casanova. He anticipated his immediate 
 liberation ; and, with a spirit which proved that he 
 was scarcely worthy of freedom, he meditated san- 
 guinary schemes of revenge. His cogitations were 
 interrupted by the coming of the jailer, who sneer, 
 ingly asked him whether he had had time enough 
 to decide upon what he would eat. Now, seeming- 
 ly out of bravado, he ordered an ample supply of 
 different articles of food. In a short time the jailer 
 returned, and expressed his wonder that Casanova 
 had *ot asked for a bed and some furniture ; " for,"
 
 70 PERILOUS ADVENTDRE8. 
 
 said he, " if you imagine that you will be here only 
 one night, you are much mistaken." He then 
 handed a pencil and paper to the prisoner, who 
 gave him a list of what he should want. The jail- 
 er, on its being read to him, declared that books, 
 ink, paper, looking-glass, and razors must be omit 
 ted, as they were forbidden things. He required 
 money for the provisions, and Casanova gave him 
 one of the three sequins which was all his present 
 wealth. At noon the furniture and the food were 
 brought, and he was desired to mention what he 
 would have for the morrow, as the keeper could 
 visit him only once a day. He was informed, like- 
 wise, that the secretary would send him books more 
 fitting than those in the list, as the latter belonged 
 to the prohibited class. On Casanova desiring that 
 his thanks might be conveyed to the secretary for 
 having given him a room to himself, instead of 
 placing him with such " rascals" as he supposed to 
 be inmates of these dungeons, the surprised janitor, 
 who at first thought the speech was in jest, assured 
 him that none but people of condition were put 
 there, and that, far from being a favour, his insulated 
 condition was intended as an aggravation of the 
 punishment. " The fellow was right," says Casa- 
 nova, " as I found out some days afterward but too 
 well. I then learned that a man who is alone in 
 his confinement, without the power of employing 
 himself, in a cell nearly dark, and where he only 
 sees once a day the person who brings him food, 
 and in which he cannot even walk about upright, be- 
 comes the most miserable of living creatures : he 
 may at last even long for the company of a mur- 
 Aerer, a madman, or even a bear. Solitude in
 
 CASANOVA. 71 
 
 these prisons brings despair ; but none know this 
 who have not had the experience." 
 
 Drawing his table towards the grating, for the 
 sake of the gleam of light that entered there, Casa- 
 nova sat down to his repast : an ivory spoon was 
 his only substitute for a knife and fork. He had, 
 however, little occasion for carving implements. 
 Long fasting and anxiety had taken away his ap- 
 petite, and he could not swallow more than a spoon- 
 ful of soup. Seated in his arm-chair, he passed the 
 whole of the day in feverish expectation of the 
 promised books. At night, sleep was banished from 
 his couch by a combination of circumstances : the 
 rats in the adjacent garret were persevering and 
 noisy in their gambols ; the clock of St. Mark's 
 tower, nigh at hand, was as audible as though it 
 had been in the room ; and he was overrun and tor- 
 mented by myriads of fleas, which, he says, almost 
 threw him into convulsions. At daybreak Lorenzo 
 the jailer appeared, ordered the cell to be swept 
 out, placed the victuals on the table, and produced 
 two large books which were sent by the secretary. 
 Casanova wished to go into the garret, but this 
 favour was refused. When he had eaten his soup, 
 he examined the books by the help of the light 
 which came through the grating. They were not 
 of 9 nature to captivate Casanova, or, indeed, any 
 one but a crack-brained fanatic. One bore the title 
 of " The Mystic City of God, by Maria of Jesus, 
 called Agreda ;" the other was a work, written by 
 a Jesuit, to inculcate a particular veneration for the 
 he*rt of the Saviour. M The Mystic City" was a 
 wild rhapsody, the production of a nun, whose in- 
 t'-Uect was evidently disordered by ascetic practices
 
 72 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 and visionary contemplation. Having nothing else 
 to beguile the tedious hours, Casanova persisted 
 for a whole week in reading it, and there was some 
 danger of his becoming as mad as the writer. * 1 
 felt," says he, " the influence of the disorder which 
 the nun of Agreda had ingrafted on a mind de- 
 pressed by melancholy and bad food. I smile now 
 when I recall my fantastic dreams. If I had pos- 
 sessed pen and paper, a work might have been 
 produced in the prisons of the Camerotti more ex- 
 traordinary than that which Signor Cavalli had 
 sent me. Such a work would be sufficient to over- 
 set a man's reason, if, like me, he were a captive in 
 the Camerotti, and deprived of every employment 
 and of every mental occupation." Little more than 
 half a century before the period in question, a 
 French translation of this volume had given rise to 
 a violent controversy at Paris, and been censured 
 by the Sorbonne. 
 
 In nine days Casanova's stock of money was ex- 
 hausted. When Lorenzo asked to whom he should 
 apply for more, "to no one," was the laconic an- 
 swer. This was unpleasant news for the jailer, 
 who was fond of pelf, and doubtless took care to 
 remunerate himself liberally for acting as purveyor 
 to those whom he held in custody. On the follow- 
 ing morning he announced to the prisoner that the 
 tribunal would allow about fifteen shillings weeklv 
 for his subsistence ; and he proposed to lay out the 
 sum for him, keep an account, and return any 
 overplus at the month's end. This arrangement 
 was acceded to by the captive. In the present 
 conditon of Casanova, the allowance was more than 
 sufficient*; for his health had now begun to
 
 CASANOVA. 73 
 
 way, and he had little inclination to eat. The 
 burning sun of the dog-days, beating on the leaden 
 roof, converted his cell into a kind of vapour-bath. 
 He was obliged to remain wholly unclothed, and, 
 as he sat in his arm-chair, the perspiration ran 
 down from every part of him. Fever next came 
 on, and he took to his bed; but he suffered in si- 
 lence. In the course of two or three days, Loren- 
 zo, who does not appear to have been at bottom an 
 inhuman man, and who, besides, had an interest in 
 keeping him alive, discovered the illness of his 
 prisoner, and applied for medical aid. It was 
 granted. " You will be astonished," said he, " to 
 hear of the bounty of the tribunal, for you shall 
 have a doctor, surgeon, and medicines, without its 
 costing you anything." 
 
 A physician was introduced by the jailer, but 
 Casanova declared that to his physician and his 
 confessor he would not open his lips in the presence 
 of witnesses. Lorenzo at first refused to leave 
 them together, but was finally obliged to yield. 
 Ill as he was, the prisoner still retained a portion 
 of his satirical spirit. " If you wish to get well," 
 said the disciple of Esculapius, " you must banish 
 your melancholy." " Write a receipt for that pur- 
 pose," said the patient, " and bear it to the only 
 apothecary who can prepare a dose of it for me. 
 Signer Cavalli, the secretary, is the fatal, doctor 
 who prescribed for me ' The Heart of Jesus' and 
 the ' Mystic City ;' those works have reduced me 
 to this condition." By the care of his medical at- 
 tendant, who also lent him Boethius to read, and ob- 
 tained from the secretary a promise of other books, 
 the health of. the prisoner was speedily improved-
 
 74 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 " Nothing n :w tormented me," says he, " but heat, 
 vermin, and ennui, for I could not read Boethiua 
 forever." 
 
 A slight favour was now granted to Casanova, 
 by the pity or the policy of his jailer. He was 
 permitted to enter the garret while his cell was 
 being set in order. During the eight or ten min- 
 utes which were thus occupied, he walked rapidly 
 up and down, as much for the purpose of scaring 
 away his enemies the rats as for the sake of ex- 
 ercise. Casanova prudently rewarded the jailer 
 for what he had already done, and thus tempted 
 him to do more. When Lorenzo, on the same 
 day, came to settle his accounts, " there remained," 
 says Casanova, " a balance of about fi ve-and-twen- 
 ty shillings in my favour ; but I gave it to him, 
 telling him that he might have masses said for it ; 
 he thanked me, and at the end of each month I 
 repeated the gift." 
 
 From day to day Casanova continued to flatter 
 himself that the morrow would set him free. 
 When repeated failures had weakened his confi- 
 dence of immediate liberation, he took up the hope 
 that some term of imprisonment had originally been 
 fixed ; and it struck him that it would probably 
 expire on the first of October, that being the day 
 on which the state inquisitors were changed. On 
 the night preceding that day his feelings would not 
 suffer him to sleep. The morning for which he 
 had so ardently longed brought him nothing but 
 disappointment. Nearly the whole of the follow, 
 ing week was passed in paroxysms of rage and 
 despair. When he at length subsided into a calm. 
 er mood, and was capable of reflecting, he began
 
 CA3ANOVA. 75 
 
 to think t probable he was to be confined for life. 
 This idea did not, however, bring back his fits of 
 fury or despondency. " The fearful thought," says 
 he, " excited a laugh, but nothing more : I resolved 
 to free myself, or perish in the attempt." Thence- 
 forth his whole attention was turned to that one 
 great purpose. It is true he had neither gold to 
 bribe with, nor the power of corresponding and con- 
 certing with his friends, nor weapons, nor tools, 
 but still he was not to be deterred from his enter- 
 prise ; for, in his opinion, " there was no object a 
 man might not attain by incessantly devoting his 
 thoughts to it." 
 
 While his mind was occupied in pondering upon 
 the means to carry his resolve into effect, a cir- 
 cumstance occurred which showed that the idea 
 of recovering liberty was so predominant as to 
 leave no room for that of danger. He was stand- 
 ing in his cell on the 1st of November, looking up 
 to the window in the roof, and scanning the large 
 beam that crossed it. All at once he saw the 
 massy timber shake, bend to the right, and then 
 resume its place, while he himself lost his balance. 
 He knew that this was caused by the shock of an 
 earthquake, and he inwardly rejoiced. In about 
 five minutes the shock was renewed. He could 
 no longer contain himself; he exultingly exclaimed 
 aloud, " Another, another, great God ! but strong- 
 er." The earthquake which he felt was the same 
 that shook the city of Lisbon into a heap of ruins. 
 That he might escape by the destruction of the 
 prison was the sole thought that flashed upon his 
 brain ; it never entered into his head that he might 
 be crushed by the falling pile.
 
 76 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 The monotony of Casanova's existence was now 
 somewhat relieved by his having a companion in 
 misfortune. The first was a youth named Mag. 
 giorino, who had been valet to a count, and was 
 sent hither for having gained the affections of hid 
 master's daughter. "He was an agreeable, hon- 
 est young man, but madly in love ; and all his 
 sighs and tears seemed to be vented more on his 
 mistress's account than his own." On the unlucky 
 lover coming in, Casanova lent him his own mat- 
 tress to sleep on. Lorenzo brought one, however, 
 the next morning, and informed the new prisoner 
 that a small sum was allowed for his support ; but 
 Casanova told the jailer that he would share his 
 provisions with Maggiorino, and that he might 
 keep the money to have masses said weekly for 
 his soul. Lorenzo was so enchanted by this gen- 
 erosity that he gave the donor leave to walk for 
 half an hour every day up and down the gallery. 
 Poor Maggiorino did not long remain the compan. 
 ion of Casanova. He was removed to another 
 part of the prison, where daylight never entered, 
 its place being supplied by an oil lamp. There 
 he continued for five years, at the expiration of 
 which period he was banished for ten. 
 
 Casanova was sorry for the loss of his companion, 
 and for a short time his spirits were depressed. 
 But in a few days the vacancy was transiently 
 filled up by a less pleasing character than the en- 
 amoured Maggiorino. The stranger was a thin, 
 stooping, shabbily-dressed man of about fifty, wilh 
 a sinister expression of countenance. He feasted 
 at Casanova's expense on the first day ; on the 
 second, when Lorenzo asked for money to pur-
 
 CASANor,- . T7 
 
 fliase food, the new-comer declared that he had 
 QOX a single farthing. Lorenzo coolly replied, " Oh, 
 very well ! then you shall have a pound and a half 
 of ship-biscuit and excellent water ;" and with this 
 humble fare he provided him. Seeing that his fel- 
 low-captive seemed low-spirited, Casanova offered 
 to let him share in his repasts, at the same time 
 ielling him that he was very imprudent to come 
 there entirely without money. " I have money," 
 replied the hunks, " but one must not let these har- 
 pies know it." He was a usurer, and had attempt. 
 ed to defraud a nobleman who had unwarily in- 
 trusted him with a considerable sum : he had been 
 cast in a suit for the recovery of the deposite, and 
 was to be held in durance till he made restitution 
 and paid the costs. After he had been imprisoned 
 for four days he was summoned before flie secre- 
 tary, and, in his hurry, he slipped on Casanova's 
 shoes instead of his own. In about half an hour 
 he returned with a most wo-begone look, took out 
 of his own shoes two purses containing three hun- 
 dred and fifty sequins, and went back to the sec- 
 retary. Casanova saw no more of him. Stimu- 
 lated, perhaps, by the threat of torture, the usurer 
 had regained his liberty by parting with his idol- 
 ized gold. Some months elapsed before he waa 
 succeeded by another tenant. 
 
 " On the 1st of January, 1756, I received," says 
 Casanova, " a Nevvyear's gift. Lorenzo brought 
 me a beautiful dressing-gown lined with fox-fur, a 
 mlken coverlid quilted with wool, and a case of 
 bearskin to put. my feet in ; for in proportion as 
 my prison was hot in summer was it cold in winter. 
 At the s ime time he informed me that six sequins
 
 78 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 monthly were placed at my disposal, and that I 
 might buy what books and newspapers I pleased. 
 He added, that this present came from my friend 
 and patron the Patrician Bragadino. I begged of 
 him some paper and a pencil, and wrote on it, 
 ' My nanks for the clemency of the tribunal and 
 the generosity of Signor Bragadino.' A person 
 must have been in my situation to be able to ap- 
 preciate the effect this had on me : in the fulness 
 of my heart I pardoned my oppressors ; indeed, I 
 was nearly induced to give up all thoughts of es- 
 caping ; so pliant is man after misery has bowed 
 him down and degraded him." 
 
 The feeling of submission to his fate was, how. 
 ever, only momentary. His mind was again in- 
 cessantly employed in dwelling upon his intended 
 flight. The garrulity of the jailer, who had an in- 
 ordinate love of babbling, supplied him with some 
 particulars relative to the prison which ultimately 
 proved useful. But it was from the leave to walk 
 in the gallery that he derived the greatest advan- 
 tage. At first the favour was considered valuable 
 only as affording him an enlarged space for exer- 
 cise ; but it was not long before he began to im- 
 agine that he might turn it to better account. In 
 the course of his brief visits to this spot, he discov- 
 ered in a corner two chests, round which was a 
 quantity of old lumber. One of the chests was 
 locked ; that which was open contained feathers, 
 paper, and twine, and a piece of what seemed to 
 be smooth black marble, about an inch thick, three 
 inches wide, and six inches long. Apparently 
 without having settled what use he could make of 
 it, he carried the stone to his cell and hid it under 
 .nis shirts.
 
 CASANOVA. 79 
 
 Some time after this, as he was walking, hia 
 eyes rested on a bolt as thick as one's thumb, and 
 eighteen inches in length, which he had more than 
 ou:e seen among the lumber, and the thought sud- 
 denly struck him that it might be converted into a 
 tool and a weapon. He concealed it under his 
 clothes, and took it to his abode. He now exam, 
 ined more closely the supposed piece of marble, 
 and was delighted to find that it was in reality a 
 whetstone. Quite uncertain as to what purpose he 
 should apply the bolt, but with a vague hope that it 
 might possibly be of service, Casanova set to work 
 to point it. This was a wearisome task. He was 
 nearly in the dark, held the stone in his hand, as 
 there was no place where he could fix it, and for 
 want of oil was obliged to moisten it with spittle. 
 For fourteen days he worked incessantly, till hia 
 left hand had become one blister, and his right arm 
 could not be moved without difficulty. He had, 
 however, succeeded in converting the rusty bolt 
 into an octangular stiletto, which might have done 
 credit to a sword-maker's skill. When it was fin. 
 ished, he hid it in the straw of his arm-chair. 
 Whether it would be employed in committing mur- 
 der or giving freedom, or perhaps both, circum- 
 stances alone could decide. 
 
 After having pondered for five days on what 
 was to be done, Casanova decided that to break 
 through the floor of his cell was the only plan 
 which afforded a chance of success. The state 
 cells, in one of which he waa immured, were in 
 the roof, and were covered with plates of lead three 
 feet square and about a line in thickness. They 
 occupied the two opposite sides, eastern and west*
 
 80 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 ern, of the building, four on the former side and 
 three on the latter. The eastern cells were light, 
 and would allow a man to stand upright in them, 
 while the others were made low and dark by the 
 beams which crossed the windows. The only ac- 
 cess was through the gate of the palace, the Bridge 
 of Sighs, and the galleries, and the secretary kept 
 the key, which was daily returned to him by the 
 jailer after he had attended on the prisoners. 
 
 Casanova was aware that under his cell was the 
 secretary's chamber, and that it was open every 
 morning. If, by the help of the bedclothes, he 
 could descend unseen into it, he purposed to hide 
 himself under the table of the tribunal, and watch 
 an opportunity to sally forth. If, contrary to his 
 expectation, he should find a sentinel in the room, 
 he made up his mind to kill him : Casanova was 
 not troubled with an over-scrupulous conscience. 
 He could not, however, yet begin his work, foi 
 the cold was so intense that when he grasped the 
 iron his hands became almost frozen ; and, besides, 
 for nineteen hours out of the twenty. four he was in 
 complete darkness, the winter fogs at Venice being 
 so thick that even in the daytime he had not light 
 enough to read by. He was therefore compelled 
 to postpone till a more favourable season the com- 
 mencement of his operations. 
 
 This compulsory delay, and the want of some- 
 thing to beguile the lagging hours, depressed his 
 spirits. "1 again sunk into despondency," says 
 he ; "a lamp would have made me happy. I 
 thought and thought how I could supply the place 
 of one. I required a lamp, wick, oil, flint and steel, 
 un/i tinder, and I had not one of them all." By
 
 CASANOVA. 81 
 
 dint of contrivance, however, he soon procured a 
 part of them. An earthen pipkin which he man- 
 aged to conceal was the lamp ; the oil was saved 
 from his salad ; a wick he formed from cotton ta- 
 ken out of his bed ; and a buckle in his girdle was 
 converted into a steel. A flint, matches, and tin- 
 der were still deficient. These, too, his perseve- 
 rance obtained. Pretending to have a violent 
 toothache, he prevailed on Lorenzo to give him a 
 fragment of flint, for the purpose of being steeped 
 in vinegar and applied to the tooth ; and to prevent 
 suspicion, he put three pieces of it into vinegar in 
 the presence of the jailer. Sulphur he got by a 
 similar stratagem. He was very opportunely at- 
 tacked by an irritation of the skin, for which the 
 article he stood in need of was one of the reme- 
 dies prescribed. " But now for the tinder : to 
 contrive a substitute for that was the work of three 
 days. It at last occurred to me that I had ordered 
 my tailor to stuff my silken vest under the arms 
 with sponge, to prevent the appearance of the 
 stain. The clothes, quite new, lay before me ; my 
 heart beat ; the tailor might not have fulfilled my 
 orders; I hesitated between fear and hope. It 
 only required two steps, and I should be out of sus- 
 pense ; but I could not resolve on those two steps . 
 at last I advanced to where the clothes lay, and, 
 feeling unworthy of such a favour if I should find 
 the sponge there, I fell on my knees and prayed 
 fervently. Comforted by this, I took down the 
 dress and found the sponge. I was no sooner in 
 possession of it than I poured the oil into the pip- 
 Kin, put the wick in, and the lamp was ready. It 
 was no little addition to the pleasure this luxury a> 
 246
 
 62 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 forded me, that I owed it entirely to my own in- 
 genuity, and that I had violated one of the strictest 
 laws of the prison. I dreaded the approach of 
 night no longer." 
 
 The pleasure which he derived from this acqui- 
 sition enabled him to bear with tolerable patience 
 the necessary postponement of his great underta- 
 king. Considering that during the riotous festiv- 
 ities of the Carnival he would be daily liable to 
 Have companions sent to him, he resolved not to 
 begin his labours till the first Monday in Lent. 
 But here he was staggered by another obstacle 
 which he had not hitherto taken into account 
 He had always manifesto an eagerness to have 
 his room swept, for the purpose of keeping down 
 the vermin that annoyed him. But if he persisted 
 in having this done, the jailer could not fail to dis- 
 cover the breach he was making in the floor. He 
 was therefore obliged to desire that the sweeping 
 might be discontinued. For about a week Loren- 
 zo humoured the prisoner ; but he seems at last to 
 have felt an undefined suspicion that something 
 wrong was intended. He ordered the cell to be 
 swept and the bed removed, and brought in a light 
 on pretence of ascertaining whether the work had 
 been thoroughly done. But his vigilance was- 
 thrown away : he was no match for his wily cap- 
 tive. Next morning he found Casanova in bed,, 
 and was told by him he had coughed so violently 
 that he had burst a bloodvessel. Then, holding 
 jp a handkerchief wtiich he had stained by pur. 
 posely cutting his thumb, he added, " See how I 
 have bled ! Pray send for a physician !" A doc- 
 tor came, prescribed, listened to his complaint
 
 CASANOVA. 83 
 
 against the jailer, assented to its justice, and di- 
 rected that the broom should thenceforth be ban* 
 ished. 
 
 Having thus secured a clear field for his opera- 
 tions, he moved his bed out of the alcove, lighted 
 his lamp, and set vigorously to work on the floor 
 with his stiletto. The planks were sixteen inches 
 broad, and he began to make the hole at the point 
 where two of them joined. At the outset the chips 
 were not bigger than grains of corn, but they soon 
 increased to respectable splinters. After having 
 worked for six hours he desisted, and gathered the 
 chips into a napkin, intending to throw them behind 
 the lumber in the garret. When, by dint of much 
 toil, he had penetrated through this plank, he found 
 beneath it another of equal thickness, which was 
 succeeded by a third. Three weeks were consu- 
 med in getting through these multiplied impedi- 
 ments. After he had conquered them he came to 
 a still more formidable obstacle : a sort of pave- 
 ment, composed of small pieces of marble. On 
 this his stiletto could make no impression. His 
 fruitful brain, however, discovered a method of 
 surmounting this difficulty. Taking the hint from 
 a well-known expedient ascribed to Hannibal, he 
 moistened the mortar with vinegar, and softened 
 it so much that, at the end of four days, he was 
 enabled to remove the pieces of marble. There 
 was yet another plank to cut through ; and, as the 
 hole was already ten inches deep, this part of his 
 task was exceedingly troublesome and laborious. 
 
 Prone on the ground, quite naked, and steaming 
 with perspiration, his lamp standing lighted in the 
 hole, Casanova had been working at the last plank 
 G
 
 84 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 for Unee hours of a sultry day in June, when he 
 was startled by the rattling of bolts in the ante- 
 rooms. He had barely time to blow out the lamp, 
 push the bedstead into the alcove, and throw upon 
 it the mattress and bedding, before Lorenzo en- 
 tered. The jailer brought with him a prisoner, 
 and congratulated the tenant of the ceil on having 
 such a companion. " The new-comer," says Cas- 
 anova, " must have thought himself in the regions 
 of despair, and he exclaimed, ' Where am I ? and 
 where am I to be confined ? What a heat and 
 what a smell ! With whom am I to be imprison, 
 ed ?' " As soon as the captives could see each 
 other, a mutual recognition took place. The per- 
 son whom Lorenzo had installed in the cell was 
 Count Fanarola, an agreeable and honourable man, 
 of middle age, who was committed for some tri. 
 fling remarks he had been so imprudent as to make 
 in a public place. Casanova, who was well ac- 
 quainted with the count, confided to him the secret 
 of his project, and was encouraged to persevere. 
 Fanarola was liberated in the course of a few 
 days. 
 
 Left once more alone, Casanova resumed his 
 toilsome occupation. It was protracted by a cir- 
 cumstance which he had feared might happen, but 
 was unable to prevent. When he had made a 
 small perforation in the last plank, he found that 
 the room beneath was, as he had supposed, the 
 secretary's ; but he found also that his aperture 
 was just over a large cross-beam, which would hin- 
 der his descent. He was therefore obliged to wi- 
 den the hole on the other side, so as to keep clear 
 of this impediment. In the mean time, he careful-
 
 CASANOVA. 85 
 
 ly stopped up the small perforation with bread, thai 
 the light of his lamp might not be perceived. It 
 was not till the 23d of August, 1756, that he 
 brought his labour to a close. All was now read} 
 for breaking through; but he determined to post- 
 pone his escape till the 27th, the day after that 
 being St. Augustine's day, when he knew that the 
 great council met, and that, in consequence, there 
 would be no person in the Bussola, which adjoined 
 the chamber through which he must pass. 
 
 Though the delay was dictated by prudence, 
 Casanova had reason to repent of it. The wisdom 
 of the proverb that recommends to take time by 
 the forelock was proved in his case. " On the 25th 
 of August an event happened," says he, " which 
 even now makes me shudder at the recollection of 
 it. I heard the bolts drawn, and a deathlike fear 
 seized me ; the beating of my heart shook my 
 body, and I threw myself almost fainting into my 
 arm-chair. Lorenzo, still in the garret, said to me 
 through the grating, in a tone of pleasure, ' I wish 
 you joy of the news I bring.' I imagined he had 
 brought me my freedom, and I saw myself lost ; 
 the hole 1 had made would effectually debar me 
 from liberty. Lorenzo entered, and desired me 
 to follow him ; I offered to dress myself, but he 
 slid it was unnecessary, as he was only going to 
 remove me from this detestable cell to another 
 quite new, well-lighted with two windows, from 
 which I could overlook half Venice, and where I 
 could stand upright. I was nearly beside myself. 
 I asked for some vinegar, and begged him to thank 
 the secretary, but to entreat him to leave me where 
 I was. Lorenzo asked me if I were mad to refu*
 
 8<> PERILOUS ADVENTURES 
 
 to exchange this plac of torment for a paradise, 
 and, offering his arm to aid me, directed my bed, 
 books, &c., to be brought after. Seeing it was in 
 rain to oppose any longer, I rose and left my cage, 
 and with some small satisfaction heard him order 
 my chair to be brought with me, for in the straw 
 of that was my stiletto. Would it had been pos- 
 sible for my toilsome work in the floor to have 
 accompanied me also. 
 
 '* Leaning on the shoulder of Lorenzo, who tried 
 by laughing to enliven me, I passed through two 
 long galleries, then over three steps into a large 
 light hall, and through a door at the left side of it 
 into a corridor twelve feet long and two broad ; 
 the two grated windows in it presented to the eye 
 a wide view, extending over a great part of the 
 town, but I was not in a situation to be rejoiced at 
 the prospect. The door of my destined prison was 
 in the corner of this corridor, and the grating of it 
 was opposite to one of the windows that lighted the 
 passage, so that the prisoner could not only enjoy 
 a great part of the prospect, but also feel the re- 
 freshment which the cool air of the open window 
 afforded him a balsam for any creature at that 
 season of the year ; but I could not think of all this 
 at such a moment, as the reader may easily con- 
 ceive. Lorenzo left me and my chair, into which 
 I threw myself, and he told me he would go for my 
 bed." 
 
 Casanova remained motionless in his chair, as 
 though he were petrified. His mind was agitated 
 by a variety of feelings, in which disappointment 
 and alarm were predominant. He had not only to 
 lament that his hopes were blighted on the very
 
 CASANOVA. 87 
 
 eve of their being realized, but he had reason to 
 fear that his punishment would be horribly in- 
 creased. Clemency to state criminals was not an 
 attribute of the Venetian government. He already 
 seemed to himself to be condemned to dwell for 
 life in the dark and silent dungeons called "the 
 wells," where, far beneath the level of the waves, 
 the victim pined away existence among swarms of 
 vermin, oozing waters, and noisome exhalations. 
 At last, however, by a powerful mental effort he in 
 some measure recovered his composure. 
 
 Shortly after his removal two under jailers 
 brought his bed, and went back for the remainder 
 of his things. They did not return, and for more 
 than two hours he was kept in suspense. At length 
 hurried footsteps and words of wrath were heard in 
 the passage, and Lorenzo rushed into the apart- 
 incut, foaming with rage, and pouring forth a tor- 
 rent of imprecations and blasphemies. He demand- 
 ed the axe with which the hole had been made, and 
 the name of the faithless servant who had furnished 
 it, and ordered his prisoner to be searched. Casano- 
 va, who knew his man, met him with scorn and defi- 
 ance. The captive, the bed, and the mattress were 
 examined, but nothing was found ; luckily, the under 
 side of the arm-chair, into which the stiletto had 
 been thrust, was not looked at. "So you won't 
 tell me where the tools are that you used to cut 
 through the floor ?" said Lorenzo. " I'll see if 
 you'll confess to others." Casanova answered with 
 provoking coolness, " If it be true that I have cut 
 through the floor, I shall say that I had the tools 
 from yourself, and that I have given them back to 
 yon." This was too much for the jailer to bear:
 
 88 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 " at these words he began literally to howl, ran his 
 head against the wall, stamped and danced like a 
 madman," and finally darted from the room. The 
 threat which Casanova had thrown out produced 
 the effect which he probably expected from it. 
 Lorenzo had the hole secretly filled up, and took a 
 special care to say nothing about it to his suspicious 
 and vindictive masters. 
 
 On quitting the cell Lorenzo closed all the win- 
 dows, so as to prevent the prisoner from inhaling a 
 single breath of fresh air. The place was like an 
 oven, and to sleep was rendered impossible. As he 
 durst not report to his superiors the offence which 
 had been committed, the jailer seems to have deter- 
 mined to revenge himself by making the culprit as 
 uncomfortable as he could. In the morning, sour 
 wine, stinking water, tainted meat, and hard bread 
 were brought to Casanova ; and when he requested 
 that the window might be opened, no answer was 
 vouchsafed. The walls and the floor were ex- 
 amined with an iron bar by an under keeper ; and 
 as the inmate had formerly objected to sweeping, 
 his cell was left undisturbed by a broom. The heat 
 increased to such a degree that Casanova began to 
 think he should be suffocated ; the perspiration 
 dr pped from him so profusely that he could not 
 read or walk about ; and he could neither eat nor 
 drink of the disgusting food with which he was 
 supplied. The same fare was furnished on the 
 second day, and the same silence maintained by 
 the malicious jailer. The prisoner grew furious, 
 and determined that he would stab his tormentor 
 on the following day ; but prudence, or a better 
 feeling, induced him to relinquish his purpose, and
 
 CASANOVA. 89 
 
 be contented himself with assuring Lorenzo that, 
 as soon as he regained his liberty, he would terri- 
 bly revenge himself upon him. 
 
 For a whole week Lorenzo kept up his system 
 of annoyance. On the eighth day, Casanova, in 
 the presence of the under turnkeys, imperiously 
 demanded the monthly account, and called him a 
 cheat. This demand seems to have awakened the 
 jailer to a sense of his interest. If he persisted in 
 playing the tyrant, there was reason to fear that no 
 more sequins would be forthcoming for masses. 
 His avarice, therefore, got the better of his spleen, 
 and he became tractable. A favourable opportunity 
 for making his peace occurred at the moment. 
 Bragadino sent to the prisoner a basket of lemons ; 
 which gift, with a chicken and a bottle of excellent 
 water, Lorenzo presented to Casanova along with 
 the account, ordering at the same time the window 
 to be opened. Conciliated by this unexpected 
 change, Casanova desired that the balance of the 
 account might be given to Lorenzo's wife with the 
 exception of a sequin, which was to be divided 
 among his underlings. " When we were alone, he 
 said to me, calmly, ' You have told me that you are 
 indebted to me for the tools you made the great 
 opening in the floor of your cell with ; I am not, 
 therefore, curious to know anything more of that ; 
 but who gave you the lamp ?' ' You yourmJf ; you 
 gave me oil, flint, and sulphur ; the rest I had al- 
 ready,' That is true ; can you as easily prove 
 that I helped you to the tools to break through the 
 floor ?' ' Just as easily ; I got everything from you.' 
 * Grant me patience ! what do I hear ? did I give 
 you an axe ?' ' 1 will confess all ; but the secretary
 
 90 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 must be present.* ' I will ask no farther, but be- 
 lieve you ; be silent, and remember I am a poor 
 man and have a family.' He left me, holding hig 
 hands to his face." 
 
 Though Lorenzo was obliged to be silent with 
 respect to Casanova's attempt, he adopted precau- 
 tions to prevent another from being made. Every 
 day one of the attendants tried the floor and walls 
 of the apartment with an iron bar. But the pris- 
 oner laughed at this useless care. It was neither 
 through the walls nor the floor that he was planning 
 to escape : he well knew that in those quarters no- 
 thing could be done. His new scheme was to find 
 the means of opening a correspondence with the 
 prisoner over his head, whom he would furnish with 
 the stiletto for the purpose of making an aperture 
 through which he himself might ascend into the 
 upper cell. On reaching that cell Casanova pur- 
 posed to break another hole in the ceiling, get upon 
 the roof with his fellow-labourer, and either find 
 son:e outlet, or let themselves down by the help of 
 their linen and bedclothes. 
 
 It is obvious that the success of such a project 
 was so extremely doubtful, that it seemed the height 
 of absurdity to reckon upon it. At the very outset, 
 ine commencing and carrying on an intercourse 
 with the prisoner above stairs appeared to present 
 an almost insuperable difficulty. If that were sur- 
 mounted, there was the chance that his confederate 
 might prove cowardly or treacherous ; there was 
 the hourly risk that their operations would be de- 
 tected ; and there was the danger which the ad- 
 venturers must encounter in effecting their descent 
 from the lofty summit of the prison. But the ardent
 
 CASANOVA. 9l 
 
 longing to recover freedom can inspire the captive 
 with "hope, though hope be lost." The first obstacle 
 was unconsciously removed by Lorenzo himself. 
 That worthy had an insatiable love of gold, and 
 could not bear to see the money of the prisoners 
 pass into any pocket but his own. Casanova satir- 
 ically describes him as one who " would have sold 
 St. Mark himself for a dollar." The prisoner hav- 
 ing desired him to purchase the works of Maffei, 
 Lorenzo, who was vexed to see so much cash 
 wasted, suggested that the expense might be saved 
 by borrowing books from another captive, and lend- 
 ing his own in return. This suggestion was readily 
 adopted by Casanova, who hoped that it might lead 
 to a correspondence which would forward his de- 
 sign. A volume of Wolff's writings was brought 
 to him, in which he found a sheet of paper contain- 
 ing a paraphrase in verse of a sentence from Sen- 
 eca. He had neither pen nor pencil, but he never- 
 theless contrived to write some verses on the same 
 paper, and a catalogue of his books on the last leal 
 of the volume. The nail of his little finger, shaped 
 into a sort of pen, and some mulberry juice, were 
 the materials which he employed. An answer, in 
 the Latin language, came on the morrow, with the 
 second volume. The writer, who was an inhab- 
 itant of the cell above Casanova's, stated himself to 
 be a monk, by name Marino Balbi, and of a noble 
 Venetian family. Count Andreas Asquino, of Udina, 
 was his fellow-prisoner ; and they both offered the 
 use of their books. In reply, Casanova gave an 
 account of himself, which drew forth a second epis- 
 tle from the monk. " In the next book I found," 
 nays he, " a letter of sixteen pages, containing the 
 H
 
 92 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 whole history of the cause of his imprisonment. 
 I concluded from this that he was an affected, 
 whimsical, false reasoner ; wicked, stupid, thought- 
 less, and ungrateful. For example, he mentioned 
 how unhappy he should be without money or books ; 
 without the company, too, of the old count, and 
 theu filled two pages with jests and ridicule of him. 
 ^ wi vild never have corresponded with a man of 
 mis character, had not necessity compelled me to 
 avail myself of his aid. At the back of the volume 
 I found paper, pen, and pencil : I now had the 
 means of writing conveniently." These valuable 
 articles the two prisoners had procured by bribing 
 Nicolo, the under keeper who attended on them. 
 
 Balbi, who had learned from Nicolo the purlieu. 
 lars of the recent attempt to escape, was eager to 
 know what were Casanova's present plans. At 
 first Casanova hesitated to trust a man of whom 
 he had an unfavourable opinion ; but, considering 
 that he could not do without that man's assistance, 
 he finally resolved to confide in him. The monk 
 made some objections to the feasibility of the scheme, 
 which, however, were soon overruled. That Balbi 
 might perforate the floor, it was necessary he should 
 have the stiletto ; and Casanova was puzzled how 
 to convey it to him. He at last hit upon this ex- 
 pedient. He directed Lorenzo to procure a large 
 folio edition of a work which he specified, and 
 which he thought would allow of the stiletto being 
 concealed in the hollow between the binding and 
 the leather back. But, unluckily, the stiletto proved 
 to be two inches longer than the volume, and Casa- 
 nova was obliged to task his ingenuity to find a 
 remedy for this defect. " I told Lorenzo," says Us,
 
 CASANOVA. 93 
 
 "that I was desirous of celebrating Michaelmas 
 -day with two great plates of macaroni, dressed 
 with butter and Parmesan cheese, and that I wished 
 to give one to the prisoner who had lent me his 
 books. He answered that the same prisoner had 
 expressed a wish to borrow my great book : I told 
 him I would send it with the macaroni, and ordered 
 him to procure me the largest dish he could ; I 
 would myself fill it. While Lorenzo went for the 
 dish, I wrapped up the hilt in paper, and stuck it 
 behind the binding. 1 was convinced that, if I put 
 a large dish of macaroni on the top of the book, 
 Lorenzo's attention would be so occupied in carry- 
 ing that safely, that he never would perceive the 
 end of the iron projecting : I informed Balbi of this, 
 and charged him to be particularly cautious to take 
 the dish and book together. On Michaelmas day 
 Lorenzo came with a great pan, in which the mac- 
 aroni was stewed ; I immediately added the butter, 
 and poured it into both dishes, filling them up with 
 grated Parmesan cheese ; the dish for the monk I 
 filled to the brim, and the macaroni swam in butter. 
 I put the dish upon the volume, the former being 
 half as broad as the book was long, and gave them 
 to Lorenzo, with the back of the book turned to- 
 wards him, telling him to stretch out his arms and 
 to go slowly, that the butter might not run over on 
 the cover. I observed him steadily ; he could not 
 turn his eyes away from the butter, which he feared 
 to spill ; he proposed to take the dish first, and then 
 return for the book, but I told him by so doing my 
 present would lose half its value ; he consented to 
 take both at last, observing that it would not be his 
 fault if the butter ran over. I followed him with
 
 94 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 my eyes as far as I could, and soon heard Balbi. 
 cough three times, the concerted signal of the sue- 
 cess of my stratagem." It must be owned that 
 the rulers of Venice were fairly entitled to the 
 character of being lynx-eyed ; but Lorenzo affords 
 a proof that they did not always succeed in choos- 
 ing agents whose optics were as piercing as their 
 own. 
 
 Balbi now set to work with the stiletto. Though 
 he was young and strong, he did not labour with 
 the same spirit which had been displayed by Casa- 
 nova, to whom he often wrote, complaining of the 
 toil he had to encounter, and expressing his fears 
 that it would be unavailing. As, however, the floor 
 presented but few obstacles, he had advanced so 
 far by the middle of October that only the last 
 plank remained to be cut through. To push in the 
 ceiling was all that would then be requisite to open 
 a passage ; and this, of course, was not to be done 
 till the moment arrived for their flight. But, while 
 Casanova was exulting in the idea of speedily re- 
 gaining his liberty, a formidable impediment was 
 thrown in his way. He heard the outer door open, 
 and instantly made the preconcerted signal to Bal- 
 bi to desist from working. Lorenzo entered, ac- 
 companied by two of his underlings and a prisoner, 
 and apologized for being obliged to bring him a 
 scoundrel as a companion. The person whom he 
 thus flatteringly described was a very ill-looking, 
 small, thin man, apparently between thirty and 
 forty, wearing a shabby dress and a round black 
 wig. After having ordered a mattress for the new- 
 corner, and informed him that tenpence a day was 
 allowed for his support, Lorenzo took his leave.
 
 CASANOVA. 95 
 
 The name of Casanova's unwelcome comrade 
 was Sorodaci. In calling him a scoundrel the 
 jailer had not been guilty of slander. He was a 
 common informer and spy of the worst class, who 
 was sent to prison for having deceived the council 
 by false information, while at the same time he had 
 betrayed his own cousin. He was a compound 
 of knavery, ignorance, superstition, and gluttony. 
 Disgusted as Casanova was with him, he neverthe- 
 less humoured him on certain points, to forward 
 his own purposes; he condoled with him on his 
 captivity, flattered him with hopes of a speedy re- 
 lease, and " procured for him, through Lorenzo, im- 
 ages to feed his superstition, and plenty of garlic 
 and strong wine to feed his appetite." 
 
 It was politic in Casanova to foster the supersti- 
 tious feelings of Sorodaci, for it was on them that 
 he meant to work. There was. indeed, no other 
 point on which the spy was tangible ; to appeal 
 to the honour or gratitude of such a caitiff would 
 have been labour lost. To wait till he was removed 
 would have been to relinquish all hope of escape 
 October was now wearing rapidly away, and the 
 time was at hand when, if ever, the attempt must 
 be made. The inquisitors and their secretary were 
 accustomed to visit annually, on the first of Novem- 
 ber, some villages on the mainland ; and Lorenzo- 
 took the opportunity of their absence to get merr* 
 the preceding evening, so merry that he did no 
 rise till late next morning to visit his prisoners. 
 The night of the last of October was consequently 
 fixed upon for the completion of their enterprise. 
 Casanova therefore instructed Balbi to recommence 
 .his operations precisely at a certain hour, aod to 
 discontinue them at another.
 
 96 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 4 It now," says Casanova, " only remained ta 
 work on the superstition of Sorodaci so effectually 
 as . to overawe him, and prevent his betraying or 
 marring our plot. Accordingly, after he had eat. 
 en with me one evening, I assumed the air of one 
 inspired, and bade him seat himself and listen tc 
 me. ' You must know,' said 1, ' that this morning 
 early the Virgin appeared to me in a vision, ano 
 said to me, that as you were a fervent worshippei 
 of her holy rosary, to reward your devotion she 
 would depute an angel in human form, who would 
 descend through an aperture in the ceiling to you, 
 and free you in the space of five or six days. Thia 
 angel, she told me, would commence his work at the 
 stroke of twelve, and continue it till half an hour 
 before sunset. Accompanied by this angel, you 
 and I were to quit our prison ; and if you swore 
 to renounce the trade of a spy, and reformed, I was 
 to take care of you for the future.' 
 
 " I observed with the most earnest attention the 
 countenance of the fellow, who seemed petrified at 
 my information. He remained silent for an hour, 
 and then asked when the angel would descend, and 
 whether we should hear him as he broke through 
 the prison. ' Certainly,' said I, * he will come at 
 the twelfth hour ; we shall hear him at work, and 
 after four hours, during which he will complete 
 his task, he will retire.' ' Probably you have 
 dreamed this,' said he : I denied it, and asked wheth- 
 er he were determined to renounce the trade of a 
 spy. Instead of answering directly, he asked me 
 whether it would not be time enough to renounce* 
 his profession some time hence. I gave him for 
 consideration till the coming of the angel, but as
 
 CASANOVA. 97 
 
 him that if by that time he had not taken the 
 oath, he should not be rescued. I was astonished 
 at the calmness of his mind ; he seemed certain 
 of the non-appearance of the celestial visiter, and 
 pitied me. I was impatient for the clock to strike 
 twelve, and enjoyed the idea of the confusion and 
 terror which I was certain this credulous man 
 would manifest at the promised noise. My plan 
 could not fail, unless Lorenzo had forgotten to give 
 the book containing my instructions to Balbi. 
 
 " At our meal at noon I drank nothing but water ; 
 Sorodaci drank all the wine, and ate a great quan. 
 tity of garlic. As the clock struck twelve I threw 
 myself on the floor, and cried out, * The angel 
 comes !' he imitated me, and we remained an hour 
 silent. I read for three hours and a half, and he 
 prayed to the rosary, every now and then falling 
 asleep ; he did not venture to speak aloud, and 
 kept his eyes fixed on the ceiling, at which Balbi 
 was working, with the most comical expression. 
 As it struck four I bade him imitate me, as the 
 angel was about to retire : we cast ourselves on the 
 earth, Father Balbi ceased, and all was quiet. 
 
 " On the following morning fear, more than ra- 
 tional surprise, was legible on the countenance of 
 my companion. In two hours I had informed Bal- 
 bi of all that had passed, and told him that when 
 he had finished he need only push in the ceiling of 
 my cell, which he was to do on the night of the 
 81st of October, and at four we would escape to- 
 gether, with his and my companion. I kept Sor- 
 odaci in a continual excitement by my discourse, 
 and never left him to go to rest till he was nearly 
 intoxicated and ready to fall asleep. Everything 
 247
 
 98 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 succeeded to my wish ; the 31st was come, and I 
 endeavoured to persuade myself of the probability 
 of our success." 
 
 The inquisitors and their secretary had set out 
 for the mainland. Lorenzo had supplied the wants 
 of the captives, and was preparing for his carousal, 
 and the field was thus left clear for Casanova's op- 
 erations. As the clock struck twelve Balbi be- 
 gan his final attack on the floor, and in a few 
 minutes a piece of the last plank and the ceiling 
 fell in, and was speedily followed by Balbi himself. 
 ** Now," said Casanova, as Balbi handed to him the 
 stiletto, " your task is finished and mine begins." 
 As he did not like to leave Sorodaci alone, he de- 
 sired the monk to remain with him, while he hinr.. 
 self passed into the upper cell to reconnoitre. At 
 the first sight he perceived that Asquino was not a 
 man fitted for making perilous exertions. On being 
 told how the escape was to be effected, the count, 
 who was seventy years of age, replied that he had 
 no wings, without "which it would be impossible to 
 descend from the roof. He candidly owned that he 
 had not courage enough to face the peril which 
 must be encountered, and would therefore stay 
 where he was, and pray for those who had more 
 strength and fewer fears. 
 
 Casanova now examined the roof, and found it 
 break so easily that he doubted not of being able 
 to make a practicable breach in less than an hour. 
 Returning to his own cell, he cut up clothes, nap- 
 kins, and sheets, and converted them into a hundred 
 feet of rope, the pieces of which he took special 
 care to knot together in the firmest manner. He 
 finished preparing for his adventure by packing up
 
 CA8ANOVA. 99 
 
 his clothes, his silk mantle, and some linen. Ths 
 whole party then removed to the cell of the counts 
 Desiring Balbi to get ready his package, Casanova 
 set to work to enlarge the opening in the roof. Or* 
 looking out, he became aware that the light of the 
 moon and the fineness of the night would not al- 
 low of their entering upon their enterprise till a la- 
 ter hour ; St. Mark's place was full of people ta- 
 king the air, some of whom could scarcely fail to 
 see them scrambling about the roof. In three hours 
 the moon would set, and they could then proceed. 
 Money being an indispensable article, Casanova 
 told Balbi to request the loan of fifty sequins from 
 Asquino. The count, who was the very personifi- 
 cation of avarice, was exceedingly annoyed by this 
 request. To avoid complying with it, he had re- 
 course to all sorts of excuses ; and at last, weeping 
 and sobbing, he asked if two sequins would not be 
 enough. As no more could be obtained from him, 
 the two sequins were accepted ; but he took care to, 
 stipulate that they should be given back, if the pris^ 
 oners, finding no outlet, were compelled to return.. 
 So anxious was he to save his darling sequins, that 
 he exerted all his eloquence to place the many dif- 
 ficulties and perils of their undertaking in formida- 
 ble array before them, and to dissuade the adven- 
 turers from risking their necks in what he consider- 
 ed a hopeless enterprise. Balbi's courage was 
 checked for a while, but Casanova contrived to re- 
 store it ; not, however, without receiving innumer- 
 able reproaches from the monk for having led him 
 into so hazardous a situation. Sorodaci, who was 
 already disheartened by discovering that no super. 
 human succour was to be expected, was completely
 
 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 ' unmanned by the count's alarming representations. 
 He wept, and implored Casanova not to require his 
 death : he should, he said, only fall into the canal, 
 and be perfectly useless to them, and therefore he 
 would stay behind, and pray to St. Francis all night 
 for them ; they might kill him, but he would never 
 go alive with them. Casanova gave his assent, and 
 'was rejoiced to get rid of such a worthless and 
 xlastardly associate. 
 
 The moon had now sunk below the horizon, and 
 it was time to depart : but I will give Casanova's 
 own narrative of the perilous achievement. To 
 abridge it would diminish its interest, and might 
 produce obscurity. " I placed on the one shoulder 
 of Balbi the bundle of cord, and on the other his 
 packet, and loaded myself in the same manner ; 
 we then dressed in our vests only, and, with our 
 hats on our heads, looked through the opening I 
 had made. I went first. Notwithstanding the 
 mist, every object was visible enough ; kneeling 
 and creeping, I thrust my weapon between the 
 joints of the lead plates ; holding with one hand by 
 that, and with the other by the plank on which the 
 plate which I had removed had lain, I raised my- 
 self on the roof. Balbi, in following me, grasped 
 my band behind, so that I resembled a beast pf 
 burden which must draw as well as carry ; in this 
 manner I had to ascend a steep and slippery roof. 
 When we were half way up this dangerous place, 
 Balbi desired me to stop a moment, for that one 
 of his bundles had fallen off, and had probably only 
 rolled down to tjie gutter. My first thought was 
 to give him a push that would send him after it, 
 but Heaven enabled me to restrain myself; the
 
 CASANOVA. 101 
 
 punishment would huve fallen on me as well as him, 
 for without his help I could do nothing. I asked 
 if the bundle was actually goiw ; and when I heard 
 that it was, and that it contained his black gown, 
 two shirts, and a manuscript, I consoled him for its 
 loss : he sighed and followed me, still holding by 
 my clothes. 
 
 " After I had climbed over about sixteen lead 
 plates, I reached the ridge of the roof; I set my- 
 self astride on it, and the monk imitated me ; our 
 backs were turned towards the island of St. Geor- 
 gio Maggiore, and two hundred steps before us was 
 the cupola of St. Mark's, a part of the ducal palace 
 wherein is the chapel of the doge, more magnificent 
 than that of any king. Here we took off our bun- 
 dles ; he placed his ropes between his legs ; but, 
 on laying his hat upon them, it rolled down the 
 roof and fell into the canal. He looked on this as 
 a bad omen, and complained that he had now lost 
 hat, gown, shirts, and manuscript ; but I remarked 
 to him that it was fortunate the hat had fallen to 
 the right and not to the left, for otherwise it would 
 have alarmed the sentinel in the arsenal. 
 
 " After looking about me a little, I bid the monk 
 remain quite still here till my return, and climbed 
 along the roof, my dagger in my hand. I crept in 
 this manner for an hour, trying to find something 
 to which I might fasten my rope, to enable me to 
 descend ; but all the places I looked down into 
 were enclosed ones, and there were insuperable 
 difficulties in getting to the canonica on the other 
 side of the church; yet everything must be at. 
 tempted, and I must hazard it without allowing 
 myself to think too long on the darger. About
 
 102 PERILOUS < ^VENTURES. 
 
 two thirds of the way down the side of the roof I 
 observed a dormant window, which probably open* 
 ed on some passage leading to the dwelling-places 
 not within the limits of the prisons, and I thought I 
 should find some of the doors going out of it open 
 at daybreak. If any one should meet us and take 
 us for state prisoners, he would find, I determined, 
 some difficulty in detaining us. With this reso- 
 lution, and with one leg stretched out towards the 
 window, I let myself slide gently down till I reach- 
 ed the little roof of it that ran parallel to the great 
 one, and seated myself upon it. I then leaned over, 
 and by feeling discovered it to be a window with 
 small round panes of glass, cased in lead, behind a 
 grating ; to penetrate this required a file, and I 
 had only my stiletto. Bitterly disappointed, and 
 in the greatest embarrassment, I seemed incapable 
 of coming to a determination, when the clock of 
 St. Mark's striking midnight, aroused my fainting 
 resolution ; I remembered that this sound announ- 
 ced the beginning of All Saints' day. When mis- 
 fortune drives a strong mind to devotion, there is 
 always a little superstition mingled with it ; that 
 bell startled me to action, and promised me victory. 
 Lying on my stomach and stretching over, I struck 
 violently against the grating with my dagger, in 
 the hope of forcing it in ; in a quarter of an hour 
 four of the wooden squares were broken, and my 
 hand grasped the woodwork ; the panes of glass 
 were speedily demolished, for I heeded not the 
 cutting of my hand. 
 
 " I now returned to the top of the roof, and crept 
 back to my companion ; I found him in a dreadful 
 rage, railing against me for having left him two
 
 CASANOVA. 103 
 
 hours ; he at last thought I must have fallen over, 
 and was about to return to his prison. lie asked 
 me what were my intentions. You will soon see, 
 said I ; and, packing our bundles on our necks again, 
 I bade him follow me. When we reached the 
 roof of the window. I explained to him what I had 
 done and what I intended to do. I asked his ad- 
 vice as to the best mode of getting in at it. It 
 would be easy for the first one, as the second would 
 hold the rope ; but what would the last one do ? In 
 leaping down from the window to the floor he might 
 break a leg, for we knew nothing of the space be- 
 tween. The monk instantly proposed I should let 
 him down first, and afterward think how I should 
 get in myself. I was sufficiently master of myself 
 to conceal my indignation at this proposal, and to 
 proceed to execute his wish. I tied a rope round 
 my companion, and, sitting astride of the window- 
 roof, let him down to the window, telling him to 
 rest his elbows on the roof, and to put his feet 
 through the hole I had made. I then lay down 
 again on the roof, and assured him that I would 
 hold the rope fast. 
 
 " Balbi came safely down upon the floor, untied 
 himself, and I drew the rope back ; but, in doing 
 this, I found that the space from the window to the 
 floor was ten times my arm's length; it was im- 
 possible, therefore, to jump this. Balbi called to 
 me to throw the rope to him ; but I took care not 
 iO follow his absurd and selfish counsel. I now 
 determined on returning to the great roof, and I 
 discovered a cupola at a place where I had not 
 been ; it brought me to a stage laid with lead 
 plates, and which had a trapdoor* covered with
 
 104 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 two folding shutters. I found here a tub p ull of 
 fresh lime, building tools, and a tolerably lot,,' lad* 
 der ; the latter, of course, attracted my particular 
 attention. 1 tied my rope round one of the rounds, 
 and, climbing up the roof again, drew the ladder 
 after me. This ladder I must contrive to get in at 
 the window, and it was twelve times the length of 
 my arm. Now I missed the help of the monk. I 
 let the ladder down to the gutter, so that one end 
 leaned against the window, while the other stood 
 in the gutter ; I drew it up to me again as I leaned 
 over, and endeavoured to get the end in at the win. 
 dow, but in vain ; it always came over the roof, 
 and the morning might arrive and find me here, 
 and bring Lorenzo soon after it. I determined, 
 therefore, to slide down to the gutter, in order to 
 give the ladder the right direction. This gutter 
 of marble yielded me a resting-place while 1 lay 
 at length upon it ; and I succeeded in putting the 
 ladder a foot into the window, which diminished 
 its weight considerably ; but it was necessary to 
 push it in two feet more, when I should only have 
 to climb back to the window-roof, and by means 
 of the line draw it entirely in. To effect this I 
 was compelled to raise myself on my knees ; and 
 while I was doing so they slipped off the gutter, 
 and I lay with only my breast and elbows upon it. 
 I exerted all my strength to draw my body up 
 again, and to place myself on the gutter. Fortu- 
 nately, I had no trouble with the ladder ; it was 
 now three feet in the window, and did not move. 
 As soon as I found that I lay firm, I endeavoured 
 to raise my right knee up to the level of the gut- 
 ter. I had nearly succeeded, when the effort gava
 
 CASANOVA. 105 
 
 me a fit of the cramp, as paralyzing as it was pain- 
 ful. What a moment ! I lay for two minutes 
 motionless ; at length the pain subsided, and I sue- 
 ceeded in raising one knee after the other upon 
 the marble again ; I rested a few minutes, and 
 then pushed the ladder still farther into the win 
 iow. Sufficiently experienced in the laws of equi- 
 librium by this adventure, I returned to the win- 
 dow roof, and, drawing the ladder entirely in, my 
 companion received the end of it and secured it ; 
 I then threw in the rope and bundle, and soon re- 
 joined him. After brief congratulations, I felt 
 about to examine the dark and narrow place we 
 were in. 
 
 " We came to a grated window, which opened 
 on my raising the latch, and we entered a large 
 hall ; we felt round the walls, and met with a table 
 surrounded by arm-chairs. I at length found a 
 window, opened the sash of it, and looked by star- 
 light down a fearful depth ; here no descent by 
 rope was practicable. I returned to the place 
 where we had left our things, and, sitting down in 
 an arm-chair, was seized with such an invincible 
 desire to sleep, that if I had been told it was death 
 I should have welcomed it : the feeling was inde- 
 scribable. At the third hour the noise of the monk 
 awoke me ; he said my sleeping at such a time and 
 place was incomprehensible ; but nature had over- 
 come me ; I had gained, however, a little strength 
 by my rest. 
 
 " I said, as I arose, that this was no prison, and 
 that, therefore, there must be an exit somewhere. 
 i searched till I found a large iron door, and op- 
 posite to it was a smaller one with a kevhol* ; I
 
 106 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 put my stiletto into it, and exclaimed, Heaven 
 it may not be a cupboard. After some efforts t he- 
 lock yielded, and we entered a small room, in which* 
 was a table with a key upon it ; I tried it ; it open, 
 ed the door, and I found myself in a closet filled 
 with papers : it was the archive-chamber. We 
 ascended some steps, and, passing through a glass 
 door, entered the chancery of the doge. I now 
 knew where I was ; and, as in letting ourselves 
 down we might get into a labyrinth of small courts,. 
 I seized an instrument with which the parchments 
 are pierced to affix the seals; this tool I bid Balbi 
 stick into the chink in the door which I made with 
 my bolt, working it about on all sides, not caring 
 for the noise, till I had made a tolerable hole ; but 
 the projecting splinters threatened to tear our skin 
 and clothes, and it was five feet from the floor to 
 the opening, for I had chosen the place where the 
 boards were the thinnest. I drew a chair to it, 
 which the monk got on, stuck his arms and head 
 through the opening, and I pushed the rest of him 
 through into a chamber, the darkness of which did 
 not alarm rne ; I knew where we were, and threw 
 my bundle to him, but left the rope behind. But I 
 had no one to aid me ; on which account I placed 
 a chair on the top of two others, and got through- 
 the aperture as far as to my loins, when I desired 
 Balbi to pull me through with all his force, regard, 
 less of the pain the laceration of my flesh gave me. 
 We hastened down two flights of steps, and arri- 
 ved at the passage leading to the royal stairs, as 
 they are called; but these, wide as a town gate, 
 were, as well as those beyond, shut with four great 
 doors : to force these would have required a petard,
 
 CASANOVA. 107 
 
 and here my dagger seemed to say, ' hie fines po- 
 suit, this puts a stop.' I sat down by Balbi, calm 
 and collected, and told him my work was done, and 
 that Heaven and fortune would achieve the rest 
 for us. 
 
 " To-day, I continued, is All Saints' day, and to. 
 morrow All Souls, and it is not likely anybody will 
 be here ; but if any one should come to open the 
 doors, I will rescue myself, and do you follow me ; 
 if none come, I will remain here and die of hun- 
 ger, for I can do no more. 
 
 " Balbi'a rage and desperation knew no bounds ; 
 but I kept my temper, and began to dress myself 
 completely. If Balbi looked like a peasant, his 
 dress, at least, was not in shreds, and bloody, like 
 mine. I drew off my stockings, and found on each 
 foot large wounds, for which 1 was indebted to the 
 gutter and the lead plates ; I tore my handkerchief, 
 and fastened the bandages with thread which I had 
 about me ; I put on my silk dress, which was ill as. 
 sorted with the weather, arranged my hair, and put 
 on a shirt with lace ruffles, and silk stockings, and 
 tossed my old clothes in a chair. My handsome 
 cloak I threw on the monk's shoulders, and he 
 looked as if he had stolen it. I now approached a 
 window, and, as I learned two years afterward in 
 Paris, some loiterer below, seeing me, informed the 
 keeper of the palace of it, who, fearing that he had 
 locked some one in by mistake, came to release us. 
 I heard the noise of steps upon the stairs, and, 
 looking through a chink, saw a man with some 
 keys in his hand. I commanded Balbi to observe 
 the strictest silence, and, hiding my stiletto under 
 my clothes, placed myself close to the door, so that 
 I
 
 108 PERILOUS ADVENTURER. 
 
 1 needed only one step to reach the stairs. The 
 door was opened, and the man was so astonished at 
 my appearance, that I was able silently and quick* 
 ly to pass by him, the monk following me. As- 
 suming then a sedate pace, 1 took the direction to 
 the great staircase ; Balbi wanted to go to the 
 church to the right, for the sake of the sanctuary 
 (forgetting that in Venice there was no sanctuary 
 against state crimes and capital offences), but at 
 last he followed me. 
 
 " I did not expect security in Venice. I knew ] 
 could not be safe till I had passed the frontiers ; 1 
 stood now before the royal door of the ducal palace ; 
 but, without looking at any one, which was the best 
 way to avoid being looked at, I crossed the Piaz- 
 zetta, and, reaching the canal, entered the first 
 gondola I found there. I cast a look behind us, 
 and saw no gondola in pursuit of us. I rejoiced in 
 the fine day, which was as glorious as could be 
 wished, refulgent with the first rays of an incom- 
 parable sunrise. Reflecting on the dangers of the, 
 past night, on the place where I had spent the pre- 
 ceding day, and on all the fortunately concurring 
 events which had so favoured me, gratitude filled 
 my soul, and I offered, in silence, my thanks for 
 the mercy of God ; overcome by the variety of 
 emotions, I burst into tears, which relieved my 
 heart from the oppression of a joy that seemed 
 ready to burst it." 
 
 Though he was out of prison, Casanova was far 
 enough from being out of danger. The fact of his 
 escape must soon be discovered, and the myrmidons 
 of the government would be searching for him in 
 all directions. As soon, therefore, as he landed at
 
 CASANOVA. 103 
 
 Mestre, he agreed with a coachman to convey him 
 speedily to Treviso. But he was impeded at the 
 outset ; for, while he was bargaining with the driver, 
 the selfish and gluttonous Balbi had strolled away 
 to a coffee-house. After a long search, Casanova 
 found him drinking chocolate. He dragged him 
 away, and they set out on their journey. The de- 
 lay might have proved fatal. They had not gone 
 ten yards before they fell in with one Tomasi, who 
 was not a bad man, but was believed to be one of 
 the officers of the holy inquisitorial office. He 
 knew Casanova, came up to him, and said, " What, 
 sir, are you here? I am delighted to see you. 
 So, you have just escaped. How did you manage 
 it?" "I did not escape, sir," replied the fugitive, 
 "I was set at liberty." "That's not possible," 
 rejoined the questioner, " for I was at Signor 
 Grimani's house yesterday evening, and should 
 have known of your liberation." 
 
 " Reader," says Casanova, "you can more easily 
 guess what were my feelings at that moment thau 
 1 can describe them to you. I found myself dis- 
 covered by a man whom I believed to be paid to 
 arrest me ; and who, to effect his purpose, had only 
 to give a wink to the first police officer he saw, and 
 of such Mestre was full. I told him to speak in a 
 lower tone, and, descending from the carriage, I 
 begged him to step a little to one side. I took him 
 behind the house, and, perceiving that no one saw 
 me, and that I was near a ditch, beyond which was 
 the open country, I plucked out my stiletto and 
 seized him by the collar. Being aware of my in- 
 tention, he made an effort, broke from me, and 
 leaped over the ditch. Immediately, without look
 
 I 10 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 ing back, he began to run straight forward as fast 
 as his legs could carry him. When he had got to 
 some distance, he slackened his pace, turned his 
 head, and kissed his hand to me, as a sign that he 
 wished me a good journey. On my losing sight 
 of him, I gave thanks to God that this man's agil. 
 ity had preserved me from committing a crime, for 
 I meant to kill him, and it appears that he had no 
 bad intentions." 
 
 Casanova now returned to the carriage, thorough, 
 ly irritated against the monk, who had placed him 
 in so painful a dilemma. Their journey was con. 
 tinued in silence ; Casanova was engaged in med- 
 itating upon the means of getting rid of his compan- 
 ion, for he was convinced that escape would be im- 
 possible if they remained together. At Treviso 
 he ordered horses to be got ready for them to pro- 
 ceed ; but this was only to blind the postmaster, 
 for he had no intention to use them, nor, though 
 suffering from hunger, would he even wait for 
 breakfast. Accompanied by the monk, he went 
 
 out under pretence of taking a walk. When, 
 however, he had got about a mile out of town, he 
 struck into the fields, over which he determined he 
 would entirely make his way till he was out of the 
 Venetian territory. Instead of bending his course 
 towards Bassano, which was the shortest route, he 
 turned his steps towards Feltre, rationally conclu- 
 ding that his pursuers would be more likely to seek 
 him on the former road than on the latter. After 
 walking for three hours, hunger compelled him to 
 halt, and he sent the monk to a farmhouse to pur- 
 chase some food. Somewhat recruited, he pushed 
 
 -forward for four hours longer, at the end of which
 
 CASANOVA. Ill 
 
 time he found himself more than twenty miles from 
 Treviso. He could go no farther ; his ankles were 
 swelled, and his shoes were nearly in pieces. 
 
 " Stretching myself under a clump of trees," 
 says Casanova, " I made Father Balbi sit down by 
 me, and addressed him in these words : ' We must 
 go to Borgo de Valsugano, which is the first town 
 beyond the frontier of the republic. There we 
 shall be as safe as if we were in London, and may 
 rest ourselves ; but, in order to reach that place, it 
 will be requisite that we take particular precautions, 
 and the most essential of them is for us to separate. 
 You shall go by the wood of Martello, I will go by 
 the mountains ; you by the easiest and shortest road, 
 I by the longest and most difficult ; you with mon- 
 ey in your pocket, I without a halfpenny, i make 
 you a present of my cloak, which you can exchange 
 for a greatcoat and a hat, and everybody then will 
 take you for a peasant, for, luckily, you have the 
 look of one. Here is all the money that is left out 
 of the two sequins which I took from Count Asquino ; 
 there are seventeen livres ; take them. You will 
 reach Borgo in the evening of the day after to-mor- 
 row, and 1 shall be there twenty.four hours later. 
 Wait for me at the first inn on the left hand, and 
 rely upon my meeting you there. This night I 
 must sleep in a good bed, but I must be quiet in 
 it, which would be impossible if you were with me. 
 I am sure that at this moment they are hunting for 
 us everywhere, and that the description of our per- 
 sons is so accurately given that we should be ar- 
 rested at any inn into which we might go together. 
 You see my wretched state, and the absolute ne- 
 cessity of my having ten hours' rest. Farewell,
 
 112 PERILOUS ADVMTURS. 
 
 then ; go on, and let me pursue my course by my. 
 self. I shall find a lodging in this neighbourhood. 
 
 " I expected all that you have just said to me,* 
 replied Balbi, ' but my only answer shall be to re- 
 mind you of what you promised when I let myself 
 be persuaded to break through your dungeon. You 
 promised that we should never part, therefore 
 you must not hope that I will leave you : your fate 
 shall be mine, and mine shall be yours. We shall 
 find a good lodging for our money ; we will not go 
 to inns, and we shall not be arrested.' 
 
 " ' You are determined, then, not to follow the 
 good advice which prudence has made me give 
 you?' 
 
 "'Yes, thoroughly determined.' 
 
 " ' We shall see !' 
 
 " I got up, not without difficulty ; I took meas- 
 ure of him from head to foot with my eyes, and 
 marked it on the ground ; then drawing out my 
 stiletto from my pocket, I bent down, almost lying 
 on my left side, and began to dig a small excava- 
 tion with the utmost coolness, and without return, 
 ing a single word to all his questions. After I 
 had worked for a quarter of an hour, I began to 
 look at him with a sorrowful countenance, and told 
 him that, as a good Christian,! thought it my duty 
 to advise him to recommend his soul to God ; for/ 
 said I, * I mean to bury you here, either dead or 
 alive : if you are stronger than I, you must bury 
 me. You see the extremity to which your brutal 
 obstinacy drives me. You may, however, save 
 yourself, for I will not run after you.' 
 
 " Finding that he did not reply, I set to work 
 again.
 
 CASANOVA. 113 
 
 ** At last, either through fear or reflection, he 
 threw himself down by me. Not being sure of his 
 intentions, I held the point of my weapon towards 
 him, but I had nothing to fear. ' I will do every- 
 thing you wish,' said he. I immediately embraced 
 him, gave him all the money I had, and repeated 
 my promise to rejoin him at Borgo. Though 1 was 
 left without a halfpenny, and had to cross two riv- 
 ers, I congratulated myself on having achieved my 
 deliverance from the company of a man of his na- 
 ture ; for, alone, I felt sure that I should succeed 
 in getting over the frontier of our dear republic." 
 
 The step which was next taken by Casanova is 
 incomprehensible, unless we suppose that his intel- 
 lect was transiently affected by what he had under- 
 gone. He himself confesses that he is unable to 
 account for it. As soon as his burdensome com- 
 panion was fairly out of sight, he went to a shep- 
 herd, who was watching his flock on a neighbour, 
 ing hill, and asked him the name of a village which 
 was visible from the spot. He was told that it was 
 Val di Piadene. He then desired to know who 
 were the owners of several villas to which he point- 
 ed, and found that they belonged to people with 
 whom he was acquainted, but to whom he would 
 not apply for aid, as he feared to bring them into 
 trouble. He next inquired about a mansion which 
 he saw, and was informed that it was the residence 
 of the Grimani family, and that the eldest Grim- 
 ani, who was at that time the state inquisitor, was 
 then there. A red house, which he perceived at a 
 distance, was the last that he questioned the shep. 
 herd about. It was the dwelling of a chief of the 
 police. 
 
 248
 
 114 PERILOUS ADVENTURE*. 
 
 Of all places in the world, this red house woufd 
 seem to be one which a man in Casanova's circum. 
 stances would avoid. Yet though, as he remarks, 
 " reason as well as fear ought to have made him 
 shun it," he " mechanically" descended the hill and 
 walked straight to it. Entering the courtyard, 
 he asked a little boy who was playing there where 
 his father was. The boy did not answer, but went 
 into the house and brought out his mother. Her 
 husband was absent ; but an equivocal expression 
 which Casanova used led her to suppose that he 
 was a Signor Vetturi, a wealthy friend whom she 
 had never seen, but who had promised to visit them 
 about this time, and this ensured to the fugitive a 
 hospitable reception. In the course of conversa- 
 tion, he learned that the owner of the house, will- 
 all his myrmidons, had set out hut an hour before 
 for the purpose of apprehending Casanova and Bal- 
 bi, and that he was to pursue them for at least three 
 days. 
 
 The wife and her mother were gifted with sweet- 
 ness of temper and kindness of heart. They ex- 
 erted themselves to the utmost to make their guest 
 comfortable, and the mother dressed his bruises 
 and lacerations, which he told them had been caus- 
 ed by a fall from his horse while he was hunting 
 in the mountains. " The gentle wife of the thief- 
 taker," says Casanova, " had none of the keennes* 
 of the profession, for nothing could look more like 
 a romance than the story which I told her. On 
 horseback, in white silk stockings ! Hunting in a 
 silk suit, and without a cloak or a servant ! On 
 his return, her husband would doubtless make fine 
 game of her ; but may God reward her for her
 
 CASANOVA. 115 
 
 tvnder heart and unsuspecting ignorance. Her 
 mother took care of me with as much politeness as 
 I could have met with from persons of the highest 
 rank. Respectable and benevolent woman ! she 
 spoke in a motherly tone, and while she dressed 
 my wounds she always called me her son. That 
 name sounded delightfully to my ears, and the de- 
 licious feelings which it excited contributed not a 
 little to my cure." 
 
 As, however, there was no knowing what might 
 happen if he delayed his departure a moment be- 
 yond what was necessary, Casanova, after having 
 recruited his strength by a twelve hours' sleep, set 
 off secretly in the morning, and was fortunate 
 enough not to be suspected by two police officers 
 who were standing in the courtyard. The sight 
 of them sharpened his fears and quickened his 
 pace, and for five hours he continued to hurry on 
 through woods and over mountains. At noon, as 
 he was crossing a hill, he heard the ringing of a 
 bell, and, on looking into a valley, he saw a small 
 church. It was All Souls' day, and the villagers 
 were flocking to church to hear mass. There 
 were moments when the mind of Casanova was 
 open to devotional feelings. This was one of them. 
 " The thought struck me," says he, " that I too 
 would go and hear it ; my heart felt a craving to 
 express its gratitude for the visible protection which 
 I received from Providence ; and, though all nature 
 displayed before me a temple worthy of the Crea- 
 tor, habit drew me to the church." On entering 
 the house of prayer, he was startled to see one of 
 his former acquaintance, Mark Anthony Grimani, 
 who was a nephew of the state inquisitor. When
 
 116 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 the mass was over, Grimani followed him out and 
 accosted him. " What brings you here, Casano- 
 va ?" said he, " and where is your companion ?" 
 
 " I gave him the modicum of money that I had 
 about me, that he might escape by another road," 
 replied the fugitive ; " and, without a farthing in 
 my purse, I am trying in this direction to reach r 
 place of safety. If your excellency will have th 
 goodness to assist me with a little money, I shall 
 extricate myself more easily from my difficulties." 
 
 " I can give you nothing," said the cold-hearted 
 Grimani ; " but you will find hermits as you journey 
 along, who will not let you die of hunger. But 
 tell me how you contrived to break through the 
 prison roof." 
 
 " The story would be interesting, but it would be 
 rather a long one," Casanova sarcastically answer- 
 ed, "and, in the mean while, the hermits might 
 perhaps eat up all the food which is to prevent me 
 from dying of hunger." So saying, he made a pro- 
 found bow and proceeded on his way. 
 
 By sunset Casanova was so fatigued, and faint 
 from want of victuals, that his legs would carry 
 him no farther. But here again fortune favoured 
 him. Seeing a lone house of a respectable ap- 
 pearance, he went to it and asked for the master. 
 His master, the porter said, was gone over the riv- 
 er to a wedding, and would not be back for two 
 days ; but he had left strict orders that any friends 
 who might call should be treated exactly as if he 
 were at home. Casanova entered, and was provi- 
 ded with an excellent supper and bed. From let- 
 ters which were lying about, he discovered that the 
 owner of the house was a gentleman named Rom-
 
 CASANOVA. 117 
 
 benchi, and he addressed to him a billet of thanks 
 and apologies, and then went his way. He obtain- 
 ed a passage over the river by promising to pay 
 the boatman when he came back, and he dined at 
 a Capuchin convent ; so that he got through a long 
 march without suffering any inconvenience. 
 
 Casanova now stopped at the house of a friend 
 on whom he had conferred many favours. He ad- 
 vanced to embrace him ; but, at the sight of the 
 fugitive, the worthy friend gave a start of terror, 
 and desired him to be gone without delay. Casa- 
 nova, however, stated his wants, and requested the 
 loan of sixty sequins, for which he offered to give 
 a check upon Signer Bragadino, at Venice, who 
 would instantly pay it. The reply was, that not 
 even a glass of water could be granted him, and 
 that the speaker trembled lest he should incur the 
 anger of the tribunal for having admitted an offend- 
 er into his house. Enraged by such ingratitude 
 and cowardice, Casanova seized the dastard by the 
 collar, pointed the stiletto at his breast, and, in a 
 thundering tone, threatened to put him to death 
 " Shaking from head to foot," says Casanova, " he 
 drew a key from his pocket, showed me a bureau, 
 and told me to take from it whatever money I want- 
 ed. I bade him open it himself. He obeyed, and 
 drew out a drawer in which there was gold, and I 
 ordered him to count out six sequins." 
 " You desired me to give you sixty." 
 " Yes, when I expected to receive them as a 
 friendly loan ; but, since I am obliged to obtain by 
 violence what I want, I will have only six, and I 
 will give you no check for the sum. They will be 
 repaid to you, however, at Venice, to which city I
 
 118 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 lhall write, to say what you have forced me to do, 
 cowardly being ! and unworthy of living, as you 
 are." 
 
 " Forgive me, 1 entreat you ; take the whole." 
 
 " No, nothing more. I will go, and I warn you 
 to let me go quietly, or perhaps, in my despair, 1 
 may turn back and set fire to your house." 
 
 Casanova then pursued his way. After having 
 travelled for two hours, fatigue obliged him to stop 
 at the house of a poor farmer, where he obtained a 
 coarse supper and a bed of straw. In the morning 
 he bought an old greatcoat and a pair of boots to 
 match, and hired an ass to carry him for the rest 
 of the journey. His final and most perilous trial 
 was now approaching. At Castello della Scala, 
 the last village on the Venetian frontier, there was 
 a guard stationed. But so well was he disguised 
 in his recent purchase, that the sentinel did not 
 think him of importance enough to be questioned. 
 With a joyful heart he crossed the border line, and 
 was at length in safety. At Borgo di Val Sugano 
 he found Balbi, who had reached his destination 
 without encountering any difficulty, and had begun 
 to indulge his gluttonous propensities. For some 
 time the monk proved almost as heavy a burden to 
 him as the Old Man of the Sea was to Sinbad ; but 
 eventually Casanova succeeded in liberating himself, 
 by procuring for him the patronage of a rich canon 
 at Augsburg. Balbi, however, was not made for 
 good ; he spent a long life in profligacy and kna- 
 very, partly in prisons and partly as a fugitive, and 
 died poor and despised in 1783. 
 
 A i apid sketch of the subsequent career of Cas- 
 anova will suffice. From Borgo di Val Sugano
 
 CA5ANOYA. 119 
 
 he journeyed to Munich, whence, alter a short stay, 
 he bent his course to the French capital. At Paris 
 he was admitted into the best society, obtained the 
 confidence of the Duke de Choiseul, and was em- 
 ployed by that minister in some pecuniary negoti- 
 ations and other affairs. He resided for a con- 
 siderable period at Paris, and then recommenced 
 his wanderings. In Switzerland he visited Voltaire 
 and Haller, and was well received by them ; and 
 at Florence he became acquainted with Suwaroff. 
 Banished from Tuscany, he visited some other 
 parts of Italy, and then returned to Paris, but did 
 not make that city his permanent abode. Still er- 
 ratic in his movements, we find him now at Paris, 
 now in Switzerland, now in Italy, then at Paris 
 again, and then at London. We must next follow 
 him to Berlin, where Frederic the Great was about 
 to appoint him governor of the Cadet School. Cas- 
 anova relinquished this promotion, and took wing 
 to St. Petersburg, where he had several political 
 conversations with the Empress Catharine. He 
 then went to Vienna, whence, however, he was im- 
 mediately expelled by the government. Nor was 
 he more fortunate in a new visit to Paris ; he was 
 driven from thence by a lettre de cachet. Spain 
 next received him in 1769, and for a while he was a 
 favourite with several eminent statesmen ; but he 
 was soon compelled to quit that country, and he 
 passed through France into Italy ; in the course 
 of his journey through France he became acquaint- 
 ed with Cagliostro and the Marquis d'Argens. Du- 
 ring this restless period of his existence, Casanova 
 experienced frequent alternations of penury and 
 riches. In 1774 his pardon was granted by the
 
 120 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 Venetian government, as a reward for his having 
 refuted the well-known work of Amelot de la Hous- 
 saie, in which that government is roughly treated. 
 He is said to have also rendered other and more 
 important services to that republic : his travels were 
 probably connected with those services. After a 
 short residence at Venice he went back to Paris. 
 The period of youth was now over, age was rapidly 
 casting its shadow over him, and Casanova began 
 to feel the want of repose. That want he was for- 
 tunate enough to satisfy, in a manner most conge- 
 nial to his feelings. In the French metropolis he 
 acquired the friendship of Count Waldstein, a Ger- 
 man nobleman, who possessed large estates at Dux, 
 in Bohemia. In 1785 the count proposed that 
 Casanova should accompany him to Dux, and be- 
 come his librarian and scientific companion. Gas- 
 anova consented, and thenceforth ceased to be a 
 wanderer. He died at Vienna in June, 1803. 
 
 Besides his memoirs and his defence of the Ven. 
 etian government, Casanova wrote a history of the 
 troubles in Poland ; an account of his escape from 
 imprisonment ; Icosameron, or the History of Ed- 
 ward and Elizabeth ; and two mathematical disser- 
 tations ; and trau dated the " Iliad" into Italian oc- 
 tave verse.
 
 CHARLES II. 121 
 
 ATTEMPT OF CHARLES II. TO RECOVER 
 THE ENGLISH CROWN; HIS DEFEAT AT 
 WORCESTER; AND HIS WANDERINGS 
 TILL HIS ESCAPE FROM ENGLAND. 
 
 WHEN, on the first of February, 1647, the Scots 
 gave up to his irritated enemies the misguided and 
 unfortunate Charles the First, they certainly did 
 not foresee that his death on the scaffold would ulti- 
 mately be the result of that act. Their sole object 
 was to make him an instrument of extracting as 
 much money as possible from those with whom they 
 were dealing ; they were not sanguinary, they were 
 only mean. When, therefore, they found that the 
 king was about to be brought to trial, and that, in 
 all probability, his life would be the forfeit, they 
 deemed it necessary to take some steps to ward 
 off the danger which hung over him. They were, 
 besides, animated by another powerful motive : an 
 utter abhorrence of the Independents, who were 
 now dominant in England. On the sixth of Jan- 
 uary, the Scottish commissioners in London ad. 
 dressed to the speaker of the House of Commons, 
 on the part of the Scottish Parliament, a long letter, 
 indignantly protesting against the trial of the mon- 
 arch, the recent expulsion and imprisonment of sev- 
 eral members of the Legislature, the neglect of the 
 solemn League and Covenant, and the manifest in- 
 tention of " introducing a toleration of all religions 
 wad forms of worship." No answer being given
 
 122 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 by the Commons, the commissioners, on the twen- 
 ty-second, repeated their protest in still more for- 
 cible terms. Speaking in the name of the Scottish 
 Parliament and people, they declared that " it will 
 be a great grief to their hearts, and lie heavy on 
 their spirits, if they shall see their trusting of his 
 majesty's person to the honourable houses of Par- 
 liament of England, to be made use of to his ruin ;" 
 that they " abominate and detest so horrible a de- 
 sign against his majesty's person ;" and that, "as 
 they are altogether free from the same, so they 
 may be free from all the evils, miseries, confusions, 
 and calamities that may follow thereupon to these 
 distracted kingdoms." 
 
 Both these protests were referred to a committee, 
 and that committee was in no haste to perform it 
 task. When the answer was finally given, Charles 
 had been dead nearly three weeks. It bore the ti- 
 tie of a Declaration of the House, and was of con- 
 siderable length. There was nothing in it that 
 could gratify the Scots. Though nowhere debased 
 by invective or abuse, its language was confident 
 and reprehensive, tinged at times with sarcasm, and 
 occasionally with something like contempt. On 
 one point alone the defence of the king's execu- 
 tion it was manifestly weak. With respect to the 
 question of tolerance it was more successful ; and 
 the manner in which this question was treated must 
 have given grievous offence to the Covenanters. 
 " For the toleration of al 1 religions and forms of 
 worship that this letter objects," says the reply, 
 u we know not whom they intend in that charge. 
 As for the truth and power of religion, it being a 
 thing intrinsical between God and the soul, and
 
 CHARLES II. 123 
 
 (he matters of faith in the Gospel being such as no 
 natural light doth reach unto, we conceive there is 
 no human power of coercion thereunto, nor to re- 
 strain men from believing what God suffers their 
 judgments to be persuaded of; but if they mean 
 only the outward and public forms of profession or 
 worship, we know no such universal toleration en- 
 deavoured or intended among us ; neither yet do 
 we find any warrant to persecute all that do not 
 worship God, or profess to believe in the same form 
 that we do." 
 
 The Scottish commissioners seem to have been 
 stung to the quick by this declaration, and they re- 
 solved to depart suddenly, without taking leave ; 
 but in their flight they aimed a Parthian shaft at 
 the rulers of the commonwealth. They left be- 
 hind them an angry and imperious remonstrance, 
 bitterly censuring the Parliament of England for 
 its misdeeds, and warning it neither to tolerate 
 " idolatry, popery, prelacy, heresy, schism, or pro- 
 faneness," nor to " wrong King Charles in his suc- 
 cession, as righteous heir of the crown of these king- 
 doms." But paramount above all stood their 
 claim, that " reformation of, and uniformity in, reli- 
 gion may be settled according to the covenant ; and 
 particularly that Presbyterian government, the con- 
 fession of faith, directory for worship, and cate- 
 chism, may be established !" 
 
 The Parliament was not slow to resent this arro- 
 gant doclaration. It passed a resolution, declaring 
 the paper to be false and scandalous, and intended 
 "to raise sedition, and lay the grounds of a new 
 and bloody war in the land ;" and it denounced the 
 penalties of treason and rebellion against whoever 
 K
 
 124 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 should give aid to the Scots in their mischievous 
 designs. An order was also issued by the Coin. 
 mons to set a guard over the commissioners, and 
 prevent all communication with them, except in as 
 far as might be requisite for the supply of their 
 necessities. The commissioners were already 
 gone ; but they were followed to Gravesend, stop, 
 ped as they were embarking, and brought back 
 to London. The Commons then voted that they 
 should be sent back to Scotland by land, under a 
 guard ; and this vote was carried into effect. 
 This was followed by another vote, directing that 
 the military force should receive an addition of 
 four thousand foot, " for the better securing Ber- 
 wick and Carlisle, and the other new garrisons 
 in those parts." 
 
 It was not alone by the remonstrance of the 
 commissioners that the resentment of the English 
 parliament was excited. Even before that obnox- 
 ious document was presented, the Scottish Parlia- 
 ment had taken a step which placed the two gov- 
 ernments in a hostile position. On the twenty- 
 fifth of February it had solemnly proclaimed the 
 accession of Charles II. to the throne. Had only 
 the crown of Scotland been in question, the Eng- 
 lish rulers would have had no just cause of quarrel ; 
 but the Scottish Parliament had taken upon itself 
 to df-clare him King of England and Ireland ; and 
 its doing so was, in fact, a declaration of wai 
 against the new commonwealth. 
 
 But though the Scots had recognised Charles as 
 iheir sovereign, it was by no means their intention 
 w> make him their master. They therefore took 
 care to specify that, before being put in possession
 
 CHARLES II. 125 
 
 of the regal pover, he '* should give satisfaction to 
 the kingdom in those things which regarded the 
 safety of reHgion, the union between the two king, 
 dorns, and the welfare and peace of Scotland, ac- 
 cording to the national covenant, and the solemn 
 league and covenant of the two kingdoms." Dep- 
 uties were despatched to the Hague, where Charles 
 then resided, to make known to him his recognition 
 by the Parliament, and the terms upon which alone 
 he would be suffered to exercise his authority. 
 
 Charles felt no gratitude for the limited loyalty 
 of the Scots. The very name of the rigid cove- 
 nanters was distasteful to him ; and he set little 
 value upon a crown, the privileges of which were 
 to be curtailed at their pleasure. In entertaining 
 a lofty idea of his kingly rights, he already proved 
 himself to be a true scion of the Stuart stock. 
 But there were other reasons why he received with 
 indifference the overtures of his Northern subjects. 
 He had been invited to Ireland, where, at this mo- 
 ment, under the guidance of Ormond, the royal af- 
 fairs were in a prosperous condition. In that 
 country he would have to encounter none of those 
 annoyances which he knew awaited him in Scot- 
 land, and thither he therefore resolved to go. Be- 
 sides, he was not without hopes of recovering the 
 Scottish diadem on his own terms ; the Hamilto- 
 flian party were making efforts in his favour, and, 
 wnat was still more gratifying to him, the daring 
 and indomitable Montrose was eager to raise again 
 the royal standard in his own country. To Mont- 
 rose the king gave a commission to raise troops in 
 Germany, and make a descent in Scotland. 
 
 The flattering visions which deluded
 
 126 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 with the prospect of unrestricted sovereignty in 
 Ireland, were soon dispelled by the republican arms. 
 Convinced that the speedy reduction of Ireland 
 was of vital importance, the rulers of the new com- 
 monwealth resolved upon a strenuous effort for its 
 accomplishment. A formidable army was sent to 
 Ireland, with Cromwell at its head ; and in Septem- 
 ber he began his career of conquest by the storm- 
 ing of Drogheda, and by the terrific slaughter that 
 ensued. Before the end of the following May he 
 had nearly completed his sanguinary work ; and 
 what remained to be done was effected by Ireton, 
 Ludlow, and the dissensions of the royalists them- 
 selves. 
 
 Thus shut out from Ireland, Charles thought it 
 prudent to manifest a readiness to listen to the prop- 
 ositions of his Scottish subjects. Having found it 
 expedient to quit Holland, and met, also, with so 
 cold a reception in France as to discourage him 
 from staying there, he was now residing in the isl- 
 and of Jersey. There he gave audience to Win 
 ram, laird of Libberton, who was charged with a 
 message from the Scots committee of estates, that 
 they wished to treat with him, and desired that 
 some town in the Low Countries should be named, 
 at which a conference might be held. Breda was 
 the place fixed upon by the king. With what good 
 faith he entered upon this negotiation may be known 
 from the circumstance of his having written to 
 Montrose, apprizing him of Winram's arrival and 
 urging him to hasten the invasion of Scotland, in 
 the hope that the success of that enterprise might 
 save him from the mortification of complying with 
 the demands of the covenanters.
 
 CHARLES II. 127 
 
 The Scottish Parliament and the General Assem- 
 bly of the Church having settled the conditions 
 which should be imposed upon the king, their com- 
 missioners proceeded with them to Breda. Charles 
 was required to exclude from his presence all ex- 
 communicated persons ; to swear to the observ- 
 ance of the covenant ; to ratify all acts of Parlia- 
 ment establishing the Presbyterian church govern- 
 ment and its forms of worship ; to observe those 
 forms himself, and cause them to be observed in 
 his household ; and to consent that all civil affairs 
 should be regulated by the Parliament, and all ec- 
 clesiastical by the General Assembly. The com- 
 missioners had no power whatever to modify any 
 of these articles ; they were only to receive his as- 
 sent or refusal. Charles objected to swear to the 
 covenant ; and, while he agreed to the establish- 
 ment of Presbyterianism in Scotland, he claimed 
 the private exercise of his own religion. His ob- 
 jection and his claim were declared to be inadmis- 
 sible; but he still continued to negotiate, in the 
 expectation that Montrose, who had landed in Scot- 
 land, would make such progress as would either 
 overthrow the Covenanters, or at least compel them 
 to treat on more favourable terms. This hope was 
 crushed, however, by the defeat and death of Mont- 
 rose. 
 
 To comply with the terms dictated by his Scot- 
 tish subjects was now the only resource which re- 
 mained to Charles. He therefore set his hand to 
 them, with the exception of the article relative to 
 his taking the covenant, which he promised to sign 
 also if it should be insisted upon when he arrived 
 at Edinburgh. He sailed from Scheveling under
 
 128 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 an escort of Dutch men-of-war, and arrived in the 
 Frith of Cromarty on the twenty-third of June. 
 He was, however, not suffered to land before he 
 had signed and sworn to the covenant. 
 
 This was a foretaste of what was in store for him. 
 Though invested with the external marks of royal, 
 ty, he soon found that he possessed neither power, 
 nor influence, nor respect ; he was not admitted to 
 any share in the public councils, or allowed to have 
 any connexion with the military force. While he 
 was carefully secluded from all in whom he had 
 been accustomed to confide, he was surrounded by 
 men who did not dissemble their hatred of his prin- 
 ciples and opinions, and was beset by the clergy, 
 who lectured and censured him in regard to his 
 most trivial actions, and descanted upon the sins of 
 his father and the idolatry of his mother. To have 
 raised up an insurmountable barrier against any 
 future attacks on the religion and liberties of the 
 people, would have been a work worthy of all praise 
 in those who were at the head of affairs in Scot- 
 land ; but the manner in which they sought to 
 achieve this desirable end proved them to be men 
 of cold hearts and narrow minds. 
 
 While the events which have just been described 
 were in progress, the breach between the English 
 and Scots was daily growing wider. Before Crom- 
 well set out to Ireland, another paper war had ta- 
 ken place between the parliaments of the two coun. 
 tries, the advantage in which was not gained by 
 the Scots. It was only the necessity, on the one 
 side, of pursuing the war with vigour in Ireland, 
 and, on the other, the want of military and pecuni- 
 ary means to support a contest, that for the present
 
 CHARLES II. 129 
 
 kept the hostile parties from settling their disputes 
 by wager of battle. They both, however, looked 
 forward to that inevitable event, and made their 
 preparations accordingly : a considerable force was 
 arrayed by the Scots, and the English Parliament 
 voted a large addition to its army, and recalled 
 Cromwell, whose victories in Ireland had rendered 
 his presence no longer necessary for the subjuga- 
 tion of that unfortunate island. The treaty con- 
 cluded with Charles by the Scots, the language 
 held by them, and the warlike measures which they 
 were adopting, convinced the English Parliament 
 that hostilities were imminent, and they wisely de- 
 termined to save England from invasion by carry- 
 ing the war at once into the heart of Scotland. 
 
 At the head of the northern expedition Fairfax 
 and Cromwell were placed (the former as captain- 
 general), and they were directed to begin their 
 march without delay. Both expressed their readi- 
 ness to accept the command ; but, after the lapse 
 of a few days, Fairfax began to waver : he felt, or 
 pretended to feel, scruples as to the lawfulness of 
 making a war of aggression upon their Scottish 
 brethren. The result was, that he resigned his 
 command, and Cromwell was appointed in his stead, 
 with the title of captain-general of all the forces in 
 England. 
 
 The Parliament now came to a vote, that "it 
 was just and necessary for the army of England to 
 march into Scotland forthwith ;" arid it issued a 
 declaration elaborately, and in some parts eloquent. 
 ly, stating the grounds on which the war was under- 
 taken. This was followed by a still more remark- 
 able paper, issued in the name of the Lord.general 
 249
 
 J30 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 Cromwell and his council of officers, and bearing 
 the singular title of "A Declaration of the Army 
 to all that are Saints and Partakers of the Faith of 
 God's Elect in Scotland." Far from being written 
 in that kind of spirit which its title might lead one 
 to expect, it was a calm, argumentative, and dignifi- 
 ed exposition of the wrongs which had been done 
 to England, and of the motives and feelings of 
 those who were about marching to demand redress 
 for them. There was nothing in it that could irri- 
 tate, unless, indeed, the more zealous Covenanters 
 might take offence at the religious tolerance which 
 it inculcated.* Supplementary to this was a brief 
 address to the people of Scotland in general, re- 
 minding them of the strict discipline which the 
 English forces had recently observed in their coun. 
 
 * " As for the Presbyterian, or any other form of church gov- 
 ernment," says the declaration, " they are not by the covenant 
 to be imposed by force ; yet we do and are ready to embrace so 
 much as doth or shall be made appear to us to be according to 
 the word of God Are we to be dealt with as enemies because 
 we come not to your way ? Is all religion wrapped up in that or 
 any one form ? Doth that name or thing give the difference be- 
 tween those that are the members of Christ and those that are 
 not? We think not so. We say, faith working by love is the 
 true character of a Christian ; and, God is our witness, in whom- 
 soever we see anything of Christ to be, there we reckon our 
 duty to love, waiting for a more plentiful effusion of the spirit of 
 God to make all those Christians who by the malice of the 
 world are diversified, and by their own carnal-mindedness do 
 diversify themselves by several names of reproach, to be of one 
 heart and one mind, worshipping God with one consent. We 
 are desirous that those who are for the Presbyterian government 
 should have all freedom to enjoy it; and are persuaded that, it 
 it be so much of God as some affirm if God be trusted with 
 his own means, which is his word powerfully and effectually 
 preached, without a too busy meddling with or engaging the au- 
 thorities of the world, it is able to accomplish his good pleasure 
 upon the minds of men, to produce and establish his good pur 
 poses in the world concerning the g'veinment of his Church."
 
 CHARLES II 131 
 
 try, promising equal strictness on the present occa- 
 sion, and calling on them to stay quietly in their 
 habitations, and not be misled by the craft and 
 subtlety of those who had provoked the war. 
 
 Cromwell was not one of those who suffer the 
 grass to grow beneath their feet. On the third day 
 after he received his commission he was upon his 
 way to the North. Orders had already been given 
 to put the troops in motion from various quarters, 
 and concentrate them in the neighbourhood of 
 York. From that rendezvous they continued their 
 march to the border, and reached Berwick before 
 the middle of July. After having been feasted at 
 York by the lord-mayor, aldermen, and sheriffs, 
 Cromwell arrived at Newcastle on the fifteenth, 
 where a fast was kept, and the declaration which 
 has just been noticed was agreed upon in council. 
 His army, which consisted of fourteen or fifteen 
 thousand men, was still encamped at Berwick. 
 
 While the English republicans were thus pre- 
 paring for a decisive struggle, the Scots were not 
 remiss in collecting their resources for the con- 
 test. They succeeded in getting together an army 
 of about sixteen thousand foot and six thousand 
 horse, the command of which was given to David 
 Lesley, a soldier who had learned the art of war 
 in the German campaigns of the great Gustavus. 
 Scarcely more than a fifth of this number had seen 
 actual service. Lesley, therefore, determined not 
 to commit the fortunes of his country to the risk of 
 a battle, in which the troops of his enemy, well 
 trained and habituated to victory, would have too 
 preponderant an advantage. It was his plan to 
 choose and intrench good positions, to wear down 
 JLj
 
 132 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 the strength and spirit of the invaders by a tedioiu 
 and unprofitable war, and make fatigue, famine, and 
 disease his alliea. The villages were accordingly 
 abandoned, whatever could be carried off was re- 
 moved, what could not be removed was destroyed, 
 and the hostile line of march was converted into 
 desert. Cromwell had partly foreseen this, and 
 had directed a fleet with provisions to attend him 
 along the coast ; but the supply afforded by this 
 means was imperfect and irregular, and was liable 
 to be suddenly suspended. It seems an unaccount- 
 able oversight, that at the outset he did not occupy 
 and strengthen Dunbar, and there establish his mag- 
 azines. 
 
 Cromwell entered Scotland from Berwick on the 
 22d of July ; and, after a march of only four miles, 
 he halted at Mordington, on the verge of the bor- 
 der, where he remained for two days. He seema 
 early to have become conscious of the difficulty ol 
 penetrating into a country which had been render, 
 ed a foodless solitude. On the 25th he reached 
 Dunbar, where he " got some small pittance from 
 the ships," which enabled him to proceed to Mus- 
 selburgh. It was not till the republican army waa 
 approaching the latter town that it saw the face ol 
 an enemy, and then nothing more than an insignif- 
 icant skirmish occurred. On the seventh day after 
 crossing the frontier he came before the Scottish 
 capital, and there for the first time he descried 
 the congregated hostile force. There was nothing 
 encouraging in what he saw. Lesley, with excel 
 lent judgment, had selected a position naturallj 
 strong, which he had made impregnable at all poiuU 
 by flanking redoubts and batteries. His right waa
 
 CHARLES II. 133 
 
 covered by the castle of Edinburgh, nls left by 
 Leith and its fort, the guns of the latter sweeping 
 neaiiy the whole front of the line. A chain of 
 outposts occupied all the eminences and defensible 
 spots in the vicinity of this position. 
 
 The republican general was now brought to a 
 stand. During the whole of a day and a night of 
 incessant and drenching rain Cromwell lay within 
 sight of the Scots, unable to advance and unwilling 
 to retire. Want of provisions and stress of weath- 
 er at last compelled him to begin his retrograde 
 march to M usselburgh. As soon as the republican 
 army was fairly in motion, the watchful Lesley 
 poured forth his cavalry upon its rear, which was 
 thrown into disorder by the charge. Cromwell, 
 however, brought up his horse to its support, and 
 " a gallant and hot dispute" ensued, which termi- 
 nated in the discomfiture of the Scots. In this sharp 
 engagement Major-general Lambert's horse was 
 killed under him ; he was wounded with a lance in 
 two places, and was for a short time in the hands 
 &f the enemy. 
 
 The English army reached Musselburgh in a 
 sorry condition. It was suffering severely from 
 want of sleep and provisions, and from the con- 
 stant rain and the miriness of the roads. But it 
 was not allowed to recover itself in quiet. Lesley, 
 aware of its plight, despatched Strachan and Mont- 
 gomery with a considerable corps to attack it in 
 its quarters. The Scots arrived at Musselburgh 
 between three and four in the morning, and made 
 so spirited an attack that the piquets were driven 
 in, and a regiment of horse was broken. Crom- 
 well, however, had expected this attempt, and was
 
 1 34 PERILOVS ADVENTURES. 
 
 consequently prepared to repel it. The Scots soon 
 found themselves assailed by a superior force, and 
 were ultimately routed, and pursued to the neigh- 
 bourhood of Edinburgh, leaving behind them a 
 considerable number of slain and prisoners. These 
 repulses of their assailants, though honourable and 
 gratifying to the victors, were of no solid advan- 
 tage ; the scantiness of supplies for the army still 
 clogged its operations, and Lesley had yet to be 
 drawn or forced from his formidable position. The 
 enemy, says Cromwell in his despatch to the coun- 
 cil of state, hopes " we shall famish for want of 
 provisions, which is very likely to be if we be not 
 timely and fully supplied." 
 
 Having rested and refreshed his army, Cromwell 
 proceeded to carry into execution a plan which he 
 had devised for obliging Lesley to quit his advan- 
 tageous position. The intention of the republican 
 general was to move to the southwest of Edin- 
 burgh, and threaten the communication of the Scots 
 with the western counties. Accordingly, on the 
 thirteenth of August he again marched from Mus- 
 selburgh, and took post in the Pentland Hills, withiv 
 sight of Edinburgh. This movement produced no 
 other effect than to fatigue his army ; for, in the 
 course of two days, the scarcity in the camp drove 
 him back to his recent quarters. 
 
 While with such indifferent success Cromwell 
 was wielding the sword, he was also wielding the 
 pen, and with no unskilful hand. He addressed to 
 the General Assembly of the kirk of Scotland a let- 
 ter, which was deficient neither in point, spirit, nor 
 shrewdness. He displayed equal ability in an an. 
 fiwer to Lesley, who had transmitted to him a dec-
 
 CHARLES 1. 135 
 
 laration from the commissioners of the General 
 Assembly, with respect to " tho stating of the quar- 
 rel whereon the Scottish army is to fight." 
 
 It seemed, indeed, as though the theology of 
 Cromwell were destined to make more impression 
 than his cannon. He had artfully descanted on 
 the singular inconsistency and sinfulness of rigid 
 covenanters fighting for the cause of a prince who 
 abhorred their doctrine ; and his arguments and 
 sarcasms were not wholly lost. While he was en- 
 camped on the Pentland Hills, conferences on the 
 subject had taken place between several of the offi- 
 cers on the outposts, and some of the Scots did 
 not scruple to acknowledge that " they had thoughts 
 of relinquishing Charles, and to act upon another 
 account." 
 
 This feeling appears to have been daily gaining 
 strength in all quarters among the more zealous 
 adherents to the covenant. The throne of Charles 
 began to be in at least as much jeopardy from 
 those who called themselves his subjects, as from 
 those who were his declared and deadly enemies. 
 It had been intended that his coronation should 
 take place on the fifteenth of August ; but that 
 ceremony was postponed because he refused to sign 
 a paper so humiliating in its character that no hon- 
 est and high-minded prince would ever have set hia 
 hand to it. Seemingly determined to persevere in 
 his refusal, he retired to Dunfermline ; but thither he 
 was followed by the Marquis of Argyle and the 
 Earl of Lothian, who prevailed upon him to affix 
 his signature to the obnoxious paper. In this, how- 
 ever, Charles only disgusted his friends without 
 propitiating his enemies he acquired, and deserv-
 
 136 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 ed, the reputation of a hypocrite and a deceiver, 
 without securing even the momentary benefit which 
 is sometimes derived from hypocrisy and deceit. 
 
 This paper bore the title of " A Declaration by 
 the King's Majesty to his subjects of the kingdoms 
 of England, Scotland, and Ireland." He was here 
 made to " sound the very base string of humility." 
 He humbly and repeatedly acknowledged his " guilt- 
 iness before God," attributing it to " education and 
 age, evil counsel and company ;" entreated the con- 
 tinued " prayer and supplication" of his people, to 
 move Heaven in his favour ; admitted the crimi- 
 nality of his father; branded his mother as an 
 idolatress ; promised to have " no friends but the 
 friends of the covenant ;" declared that he " doth 
 now detest and abhor all popery, superstition, and 
 idolatry, together with prelacy, and all errors, her- 
 esy, schism, and profaneness, and resolves not to 
 tolerate, much less allow, any of these in any part 
 of his dominions." He protested, also, that he had 
 ' a full persuasion of the justice and equity of all 
 the heads and articles of the covenant;" and that 
 ** he had not sworn and subscribed to it, and enter- 
 ed into the oath of God with his people, upon any 
 sinister intention and crooked design for attaining 
 his own ends ; but, so far as human weakness will 
 permit, in the truth and sincerity of his heart ; and 
 that he was firmly resolved, in the Lord's strength, 
 to adhere thereunto, and to prosecute to the ut- 
 most of his power all the ends thereof, in his station 
 and calling, really, constantly, and sincerely, all the 
 days of his life !" 
 
 While this war of the pen was going on, that of 
 the sword was not slackened. Having received a
 
 CHARLES II. 137 
 
 urn of money for the pay of his soldiers, and se- 
 cured provisions enough for a few days, Cromwell, 
 on the seventeenth, once more moved from Mussel- 
 burgh to the west, and took up a position on the 
 Pentland Hills. But the wary policy of Lesley af- 
 forded no opening of which his opponent could take 
 advantage. He had, besides, adopted such pre- 
 cautions as greatly embarrassed the republicans. 
 Dalkeith. which was now in their rear, was held 
 by a Scottish garrison, and he had stationed detach, 
 ments in several castellated mansions, among 
 which were Dalhousie, on the South Esk ; Craig, 
 millar, between Edinburgh and Musselburgh ; and 
 Red Hall and Collington, on the Water of Leith. 
 These posts cramped the movements of the inva- 
 ders, and endangered the safety of their convoys 
 and stores. More than a week having passed 
 without anything being accomplished, Cromwell, as 
 a last resource, resolved, on the twenty-seventh, 
 to move in the direction of Falkirk and Stirling, 
 with the hope of drawing out Lesley, and finding a 
 favourable opportunity to give him battle. In 
 drawing him out he succeeded ; in everything else 
 he failed. Lesley made a rapid march behind the 
 little river which is called the Water of Leith, 
 and fronted his antagonist. But to reach the Scot- 
 tish leader or to elude him was impossible. With 
 few intervals, the whole course of the Water of 
 Leith was at that period a morass, scarcely passa- 
 ble when no opposition was made, and wholly im- 
 passable in the face of an enemy. A cannonade 
 was kept up for several hours between the two 
 armies, the only resdi of which was a fruitless 
 waste of human life. Cromwell himself was in
 
 138 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 some danger on this day. In reconnoitring the po- 
 sition of the Scots, he advanced so near that a car- 
 bineer took aim at him. The republican general 
 laughed at the failure f this attempt, and shouted 
 out to the man, that " if he had been a soldier of 
 his, he would have cashiered him for firing at such 
 a distance." 
 
 Foiled in all his endeavours to bring Lesley to 
 action or to cut him off from the west, his army 
 weakened by sickness, which was rapidly spread, 
 ing, and his provisions exhausted, Cromwell was 
 obliged to break up from the Pentland Hills and 
 again fall back upon Musselburgh. He halted for 
 the night at no great distance from Edinburgh. 
 The night was exceedingly tempestuous, and the 
 morning wet, but Lesley did not let these obstacles 
 stand in his way. Ceasing to press upon the re- 
 publican rear, he hastily passed between Edinburgh 
 and the Leith, with the intention of placing his 
 army between the English and their supplies. 
 Cromwell discovered this design only just in time 
 to frustrate it by a forced march to the coast. " By 
 that time it was light," says Cromwell ; " we re- 
 covered into a ground where they could not hinder 
 us from our victuals, which was a high act of the 
 Lord's providence to us." 
 
 To remain at Musselburgh under the present cir- 
 cumstances was impossible for the English army. 
 The coast between Berwick and the Frith of Forth 
 is almost without a port, and the difficulty of land, 
 ing provisions was sometimes rendered insuperable 
 by a change of wind. The republican army was 
 also thinned by a violent dysentery ; fourteen hun- 
 dred sick had already been sent to England, and
 
 CHARLES II. 139 
 
 there were several hundred more in a helpless 
 state. Cromwell therefore determined to retire 
 to Dunbar and fortify that place, that he might es. 
 tablish in it a hospital and a magazine. But even 
 to make his way to Dunbar was now become a dif- 
 ficult task. The Scots were elated beyond meas- 
 ure with having baffled the invaders, whose distress- 
 ful condition they likewise well knew, and they had, 
 besides, been re-enforced by three regiments. Les- 
 ley pressed close on the heels of the foe during 
 the march to Haddington, and charged the rear 
 brigade of horse with such vigour that it would have 
 been lost, had not, says Cromwell, " the Lord in 
 his providence put a cloud over the moon."* At 
 midnight he fell again upon the republicans in Had- 
 dington, but was repulsed. It is probable that he 
 rather hoped to weaken and dishearten them by 
 these repeated encounters, than to make at the mo- 
 ment any serious impression. In this he succeed- 
 ed ; for his antagonists reached Dunbar in a pitia- 
 ble state, and were scarcely able to save their hind- 
 most infantry from destruction. Captain Hodgson, 
 who was present, emphatically describes the Eng- 
 lish force as " a poor, shattered, hungry, discour- 
 aged army." 
 
 At a short distance from Dunbar commences a 
 chain of mountains, which occupies the south of 
 Haddingtonshire and the north of Berwickshire, 
 
 * Mr. Foster, in his valuable Life of Oliver Cromwell (Lard 
 ner's Cyclopaedia), has fallen into a trifling error with respect to 
 this skirmish. Lesley did not make his attack on the republican 
 army before it reached Musselburgh, but between Musselburgh 
 and Haddington, when the greatest part of it had entered the 
 latter place. I mention this merely to avoid the imputation of 
 having myself misstated the fact.
 
 140 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 and, curving round through the counties of Selkirk 
 and Peebles, joins the range of eminences which 
 begins at Cheviot, and stretches, under various 
 names, into the southwest of Scotland. That por- 
 tion which is situated in the shires of Haddington 
 and Berwick bears the name of the Lammermuir 
 Hills : a name which can never be heard without 
 recalling to mind the remembrance of departed 
 genius. From Dunbar to Berwick, the only road 
 for the retreat of the invading army was for some 
 miles through defiles, egress from which might be 
 rendered difficult, if not impracticable, by a vigi 
 lant and determined enemy. The pass of Cock- 
 burn's Path, seven miles from Dunbar, is one of the 
 most formidable of these defiles, "where," says 
 Cromwell, " ten men to hinder are better than for- 
 ty to make way." It is intersected by three 
 streams, one of which runs through a wooded ra- 
 vine a hundred and sixty feet in depth. 
 
 Cromwell entered Dunbar on the first of Septem- 
 ber. His situation was such as might well inspire 
 him with sinister forebodings. His force was 
 dwindled down to about seven thousand five hun- 
 dred foot and three thousand five hundred horse, 
 who were exhausted and dispirited by sickness, 
 privations, and ill success : Lesley, on the contrary, 
 was at the head of sixteen thousand foot and six 
 thousand horse, well provided, in good health, and 
 animated by the foil which they had given to the 
 English, and the prospect of having them complete, 
 ly at their mercy. So confident of success were 
 the Scots, that they taunted the republicans, and 
 are affirmed to have even deliberated as to what ex- 
 tent they should wreak their vengeance upon them.
 
 CHARLES II. 141 
 
 * Here began the pride of the Scots army HO to 
 swell," says the Act for appointing a Thanksgiving, 
 "as they quite forgot an overruling Providence; 
 their scouts upbraiding us, they now had us safe 
 enough, and that they had afforded us a summer's 
 quarters, they hoped to have it quickly repaid them, 
 when they came to take up their winter-quarters ; 
 intending,' as they said, ' to convoy up our rear for 
 us to London.' Yea, so far had their passion blind, 
 ed them, and their presumption prevailed upon them, 
 that, as we were informed by some of their own, 
 they sat in consultation what conditions it was fit 
 they should offer us ; whether or no quarter was 
 to be allowed to any for their lives, and to whom 
 only, and upon what terms." 
 
 The Scots were not without seemingly valid rea- 
 sons for expecting a complete triumph. It was not 
 only that the English army was far inferior in 
 strength, but the Scots had so much the vantage- 
 ground that the chances were incalculably in their 
 favour, with scarcely the necessity for exertion on 
 their part. They had less occasion for the sword 
 than for the mattock and the spade. Thoroughly 
 acquainted with the country in which he was acting, 
 Lesley turned all its local circumstances to account. 
 He took up a strong position at Doonhill, at the 
 eastern extremity of the Lammermuir range, and 
 despatched a considerable detachment to occupy 
 the defile of Cockburn's Path. The republicans 
 confessed that "the ground Lesley had gotten upon 
 was inaccessible," and that they could not possibly 
 engage him on it without extreme danger. In this 
 embarrassing situation, Cromwell held a council of 
 war, in which a suggestion to embark the foot, antf
 
 142 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 endeavour to break through with the horse, was 
 rejected only because the violence of the wind and 
 the surf would not admit of its execution. All that 
 could be done, therefore, was to keep the army in 
 readiness for taking advantage of any erroneous 
 movement which the enemy might make, and to 
 send out a strong reconnoitring party to the right, 
 to see whether a vulnerable point could be found in 
 the position of Lesley. 
 
 To ensure entire success, the Scots had now 
 only to hold their ground till famine and disease 
 had completed their work upon the enemy; and 
 this was Lesley's intention. But he was not mas- 
 ter in his own camp. What his skill had gained 
 was thrown away by blind and presumptuous fanat- 
 icism. The preachers who attended the army 
 were loud in their censures upon the backwardness 
 of the general, and in exhortations to the soldiery 
 to pour down upon their unrighteous foes, over 
 whom they promised them, in the Lord's name, a 
 full and easy victory. Thus the Old Testament 
 was ransacked for examples, to stimulate auditors 
 who were but too well disposed to confide in their 
 misleaders. They succeeded to their hearts' con- 
 tent ; the clamour for battle became so incessant 
 and imperative, that, in spite of his better judgment, 
 Lesley was compelled to give way. He began by 
 edging the right wing of his cavalry down towards 
 the sea, and re-enforcing it by about two thirds of 
 his left wing of the same ; at the a.ame time he in- 
 clined towards the right the foot and artillery. By 
 this movement he interposed a larger portion of his 
 force directly between the English army and Ber- 
 wick, but he lost all the benefit of his original well 
 chosen position.
 
 CHARLES II. 143 
 
 From Broxmouth, the seat of the Roxburgh fam- 
 ily, Cromwell, who was there with Lambert and 
 Monk, perceived the Scots descending into the 
 plain. His joy at the sight was irrepressible, and, 
 throwing up his arms towards heaven, he exclaim, 
 ed, " The Lord hath delivered them into our hands !" 
 Night was now approaching, and prevented an im- 
 mediate combat ; but he resolved that at daybreak 
 he would fall upon them. It was not, however, till 
 six in the morning of the third of September that 
 he could commence the battle by which the fate of 
 nis army must be decided. 
 
 Six regiments of horse and three and a half of 
 foot formed the first line of the commonwealth 
 army. Lambert, Fleetwood, Whalley, and Twis- 
 tleton headed the horse ; the foot was commanded 
 by Monck. The second line was composed of the 
 brigades of Colonels Pride and Overton, the artille- 
 ry, and two regiments of horse. " The Lord of 
 Hosts" was the battle-cry of the assailants, " The 
 Covenant" that of the Scots. The first shock took 
 place between the cavalry of the two armies, and 
 it was terrible. Cromwell owns "that it was a 
 very hot dispute at sword's point." No decisive 
 effect was produced by it. The first line of Eng- 
 lish foot was brought into action against the Scots' 
 right wing, but it was met with such spirit that it 
 was compelled to give ground. Cromwell, how- 
 ever, was at hand, to remedy the check it had re- 
 ceived. " My own regiment," says he, " under the 
 command of Lieutenant-colonel Goffe and my Ma. 
 jor White, did come seasonably in, and at push of 
 pike did repel the stoutest regiment the enemy had 
 there, merely with the courage which the Lord was
 
 144 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 pleased to give, which proved a great amazement 
 to the residue of their foot." There was at least 
 one Scottish brigade which was not thrown into " a 
 great amazement" on this occasion. Though it 
 was fiercely assailed "at push of pike and butt end 
 of the musket," it stood firm till " a troop of horse 
 charged from one end tc the other of it, and left it 
 to the mercy of the foct." But here ceased all 
 display of courage on the part of Lesley's army. 
 The English cavalry was now sweeping the field, 
 and charging the enenvy's horse and foot with all 
 the vigour that a desire for glory and revenge could 
 excite. At this moment ihe sun arose from the sea, 
 and Cromwell exclaimed, " Now let God arise, and 
 his enemies shall be scattered !" He was answer- 
 ed by a universal shout from his troops. And 
 scattered the Scots were It was only by their 
 right wing that any resolution had been manifested ; 
 and when that was overthrown, all was lost. In less 
 than an hour they were put to total rout. Cavalry 
 and infantry were mingled in the wildest confusion, 
 throwing away their arms, and flying in panic ter- 
 ror, like a flock of scared dheep, before the victo- 
 rious republicans, who " had the chase and execu- 
 tion of them near eight miles." Three thousand 
 of the Scots were slain in the battle and pursuit, 
 and about ten thousand were made prisoners, among 
 whom were two hundred and forty-three officers, of 
 all ranks, from an ensign up to a lieutenant-gener- 
 al. The whole of the baggage and cannon of the 
 vanquished, fifteen thousand stand of arms, and two 
 hundred standards, were the trophies of this memo- 
 rable day. 
 Such were the weakness and destitution of tho
 
 CHARLES II 145 
 
 army by which this great victory was achieved, 
 that the want of hands and supplies compelled 
 Cromwell to dismiss five thousand " almost starv- 
 ed, sick, and wounded prisoners." For the escort 
 of the remainder to Newcastle, a more than equal 
 number, he could spare only four troops of horse. 
 The fate of these unhappy men was truly lamenta- 
 ble : a few contrived to escape ; but, famished and 
 toil-worn, numbers dropped by the way ; several 
 were killed to intimidate their companions from 
 flying or resisting ; and in less than two months, 
 more than two thousand were swept off by dysen 
 tery, and the constitutions of those who survived 
 were fatally shaken. 
 
 Lambert was promptly sent forward with six re. 
 giments of horse and one of foot, and was speedily 
 followed by Cromwell with the remainder of his 
 forces. Edinburgh and Leith surrendered to the 
 conqueror; but the Castle of Edinburgh, amply sup- 
 plied and garrisoned, refused to open its gates. 
 
 Though the season was far advanced, the weath- 
 er unfavourable, and the roads broken up by the 
 rains, Cromwell made an effort to reap some farther 
 advantage from his victory. He marched to within 
 cannon-shot of Stirling, with the purpose of storm- 
 ing that town, but he found it so strongly guarded 
 that he was obliged to relinquish his enterprise. 
 This disappointment seems to have soured him ; for, 
 in his despatch to the council of state, after having 
 announced that some of the inhabitants of the 
 Scottish capital had returned home, he concludes 
 with a bitter piece of satire. " I thought," says he , 
 ' I should have found in Scotland a conscientious 
 peopie and a barren country : about Edinburgh it 
 2410
 
 146 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 is as fertile for corn as any part of England, but the 
 people generally given to the most impudent lying 
 and frequent swearing, as is incredible to be be- 
 lieved." 
 
 There being at this season little farther to be 
 gained by military operations, Cromwell tried what 
 could be done by pacific overtures. He according- 
 ly addressed to the committee of estates, which 
 was then sitting at Perth, a letter, written in a 
 moderate and conciliatory strain, calling upon the 
 Scottish government " to give the state of England 
 that satisfaction and security for its peaceable, quiet 
 living" with Scotland which circumstances justi- 
 fied the commonwealth in demanding ; in which 
 case the Scots " might have a lasting and durable 
 peace, and the wish of a blessing upon them in all 
 religious and civil things." To this communication 
 no answer was returned by the committee ; but it 
 seems to have produced the main effect which Crorn. 
 well perhaps expected from it, that of exciting, 
 among a part of the people, a dislike to the contin- 
 uance of the war. 
 
 Early in December the Scots were foiled, and 
 sustained considerable loss in an attempt which 
 they made, with a body of cavalry, to fall by sur- 
 prise upon the quarters of Lambert, who was posted 
 at Hamilton, near Glasgow. But this repulse was 
 far less injurious to them than was the surrender 
 of Edinburgh Castle, which took place on the 24th 
 of the same month. Cromwell had for some time 
 been making approaches to the castle and forming 
 mines, but apparently with little prospect of suc- 
 cess ; for he himself declares, in his despatch to 
 Lenthall, the speaker, " I must needs say, not an;
 
 CHARLES II. 147 
 
 skill r>r wisdom of ours, but the good hand of God 
 hath given you this place." By this event the re- 
 publicans obtained a firm footing to the south of 
 the Forth. 
 
 Thus ended the campaign of 1650. To Charles, 
 the defeat at Dunbar afforded no occasion for sor- 
 row. It rather, on the contrary, seemed to open to 
 him a prospect of being, in some measure, relieved 
 from the slavery in which he was kept by those 
 who surrounded him. The situation of Charles at 
 Lhis time is thus described by Sir Edward Walker, 
 who was an eyewitness of it : " He is outwardly 
 served and waited on with all fitting ceremonies 
 due to a king, but in his liberty not much above a 
 prisoner, sentinels being every night set about his 
 lodging, few daring to speak freely or privately to 
 him, and spies set on his words and actions. His 
 bedchamber is not free to himself, the ministers 
 almost daily thrusting in upon him to catechize and 
 instruct him, and, I believe, to exact repetitions 
 from him. In a word, he knows nothing of their 
 counsels, either military or civil, but what they 
 please to communicate to him." 
 
 Even Charles, little delicate as he was, was at 
 last rendered desperate by this state of things, and 
 resolved upon flight. There was still on foot, in the 
 mountains, a body of royalists of the Hamilton par- 
 ty, under General Middleton. Through the medi- 
 um of Frazer, a physician, a correspondence was 
 opened between the prince and the general. The 
 result was, that Charles made up his mind to join 
 the royalists in the Highlands. He contrived to 
 escape secretly from Perth ; but, after having pro. 
 ceeded forty miles he was overtaken by Montgooi. 
 M
 
 148 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 aery with a troop of horse, and was induced to re- 
 turn. In Scottish history this elopement of the 
 monarch bears the name of " the start." 
 
 It might have been supposed that such a flagrant 
 proof of the king's hatred of them would have drawn 
 upon him additional indignities from the covenant- 
 ers. Such, however, was not the case. There 
 were serious reasons why the king should not be 
 driven to extremity. A majority of the nobles be- 
 gan to be disaffected ; and in the army, many of 
 the officers and soldiers attributing their recent de- 
 feat to the rash counsels of the ministers, recruits 
 to fill up the gap caused by that defeat came in so 
 tardily, that it was absolutely necessary to widen the 
 circle from which they were to be drawn. A com- 
 promise was therefore effected. It was resolved by 
 the Scottish Parliament that, on publicly manifest- 
 ing their repentance, the Hamiltonians and others, 
 who had been declared incapable of holding office, 
 should be permitted to serve their country. While 
 a majority of the covenanters were thus yielding to 
 circumstances, Charles was acting a part which was 
 equally distasteful to him. He affected an extraor. 
 dinary regard for Argyle, and went so for as to 
 throw out hints of an intention to marry one of the 
 daughters of that nobleman. In supposing tlat by 
 such conduct he could delude Argyle or gain re. 
 spect from him, he must have had a much meaner 
 opinion of the earl's understanding than he was 
 warranted in entertaining. Nor was he more suc- 
 cessful in producing unanimity among his subjects. 
 The resolution of the Parliament was solemnly pro- 
 tested against by multitudes, several civil and mili- 
 tary functionaries desisted from serving in conse-
 
 CllAivULS 11. 149 
 
 quence of it, and five of the western counties mani- 
 fested the most inveterate hostility to a measure 
 which they regarded as an infamous and wicked 
 falling off from the righteous cause. Scotland was 
 thus divided between the factions of the resolution, 
 ists arid the protesters. 
 
 While affairs were in this unsatisfactory state, 
 the coronation of Charles took place. He was 
 crowned at Scone with considerable pomp, on the 
 1st of January, 1651 : the diadem was placed on 
 his head by Argyle. A sermon was preached be- 
 fore him on this occasion by a Mr. Douglas, who 
 assured the king, among other things of the same 
 kind, that " if he did not continue steadfast to the 
 ends of the covenant (vhich he had then again 
 sworn in the most solemn manner to observe), the 
 controversy was not ended between God and his 
 family." 
 
 From listening to such rugged censors Charles 
 passed to the more grateful occupation of levying 
 forces, for the defence of his newly-received crown. 
 It was principally from the north that the levies were 
 drawn, and the recruiting was carried on there 
 with success. This is admitted to have been the 
 fact by Cromwell himself. " They have chosen," 
 says he, " all their new colonels, being the most 
 popular and beloved men, with whom we hear the 
 people rise very willingly ; so that I think we may 
 certainly conclude they will have a numerous army 
 before long." At this moment he was pondering, 
 but in vain, on the means of crossing the Forth 
 and checking the levies ; nor was he wholly with- 
 out fears of a Scots incursion into England, and a 
 royalist outbreak in the northern counties.
 
 150 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 In the course of the winter and spring, an arm; 
 of respectable magnitude was once more set on 
 foot. It consisted of about fifteen thousanc infan- 
 try and three thousand cavalry. The king was 
 its nominal leader, having under him Hamilton and 
 Lesley ; but the latter was in fact the commandei 
 The campaign was not opened till a late period. 
 The republican army was kept inactive by the 
 want of forage and supplies, but still more by the 
 want of its general. Cromwell had been attacked 
 by a severe ftt of illness, and for some time was in 
 great danger. Two physicians, doctors Wright 
 and Bales, were sent by the council of state to at- 
 tend him, and he slowly recovered ; but it was not 
 till the btter end of June that he was in a condi- 
 tion to resume the direction of his forces. Lesley, 
 in the mean while, had taken up a strong position 
 at the Torwood, in front of Stirling, and on the 
 road to Falkirk, and had improved it so much by 
 art as to render any attempt upon it an almost 
 hopeless enterprise. Here he meant to make his 
 stand, confining himself strictly to the defensive, 
 and wearying out his antagonist. This time he 
 had not to fear that his well-conceived plans would 
 be frustrated by the folly which had occasioned his 
 late disaster; and he might hope that the remem- 
 brance of their forefathers' prowess on the field of 
 Bannock burn a field which was now before their 
 eyes would rouse up every latent spark of cour- 
 age and patriotism in the breasts of his soldiers. 
 Cromwell soon found that he had a difficult task to 
 perform. He made various trials to bring his op- 
 ponent to action, none of which succeeded ; he 
 ould uei tl jer provoke nor manoeuvre Lesley from
 
 CHARLES II. 151 
 
 his post at the Torwood. Once he half resolved 
 to venture upon an attack ; but, on second thought, 
 he relinquished a scheme which at best was fraught 
 with peril, and, if he failed, might be fatal. 
 
 The pertinacity with which the Scottish general 
 adhered to his Fabian system, and his unassailable 
 position, were extremely embarrassing to Crom- 
 well. The summer was wearing away without his 
 having attained a single object, and he looked for- 
 ward with serious uneasiness to a winter campaign, 
 which would be ruinous to his troops, and heavily 
 expensive to the commonwealth. He candidly 
 owns that he knew not what course to take. " We 
 can truly say," declares he, " we were gone as far 
 as we could in our counsel and action, and we did 
 say one to the other, We knew not what to do." 
 Desperate diseases are said to require desperate 
 remedies ; and so Cromwell seems to have thought. 
 The plan which he at last adopted was venturous 
 even to rashness, and scarcely offered a medium 
 between complete success and signal discomfiture, 
 perhaps destruction. What he purposed was no- 
 thing less than to transport the great body of his for- 
 ces to the north of the Frith of Forth, in order to 
 cut off the supplies which the royal army received 
 from Fife and the neighbouring counties. Famine 
 would then, he hoped, expel Lesley from a camp 
 which set arms at defiance. To carry this scheme 
 into execution, he must divide an army already too 
 weak, and convty the major part of it over an arm 
 of the sea, which for more than forty miles is no- 
 where less than nearly two miles in width, and in 
 general far wider. This was throwing open the 
 south of Scotland, and something more, to the Scots ;
 
 152 PERILOUS ADVENTURES 
 
 committing his communications to the mercy of the 
 winds and waves ; and bringing his army into jeop- 
 ardy should a retreat become needful. Yet even 
 these adverse circumstances he resolved to brave, 
 rather than encounter the toil and expense which 
 would result from continued inaction. Besides, if 
 his assertion may be credited, he looked upon this 
 measure as dictated by Heaven itself; and conse- 
 quently he could not, without impiety, be doubtful 
 of its success. In using such presumptuous lan- 
 guage, was he a deceiver or self-deceived ? 
 
 About nine miles to the west of Edinburgh, the 
 Frith of Forth is suddenly contracted to a width of 
 less than two miles by a peninsula which protrudes 
 from the coast of Fife. Midway between Queens- 
 ferry and North-ferry is the small rocky island of 
 Inchgarvie, on which was a fort, with sixteen pieces 
 of cannon and a Scottish garrison. The commu. 
 nication between Fife and the Lothians is kept up 
 by the ferry at this part of the Frith, and it wa& 
 here that Cromwell designed to pass over his troops. 
 To call off the attention of Lesley, he moved in the 
 direction of Stirling, as far as the Carron water, 
 and made a semblance of intending to give battle. 
 Colonel Overton, in the mean while, with fourteen 
 hundred foot and some horse and dragoons, effect- 
 ed a landing on the North-ferry. On the follow- 
 ing morning he was joined by Major-general Lam- 
 bert, with two infantry and two cavalry regiments. 
 Lambert arrived just in time to save Overton's de. 
 tachment from being, in all probability, either cap- 
 tured or driven into the Forth. A Scots division 
 of four thousand men, led by Generals Brown and 
 Holborne, was about to fall upon Overton. The
 
 CHARLES 11. 153 
 
 combined republicans now became the assailants ; 
 and, after an obstinate conflict, the Scots were ut- 
 terly defeated, with the loss of two thousand slain 
 and five or six hundred prisoners. This victory 
 was followed by the surrender of the Fort of Inch- 
 garvie. While this was going on, Lesley made a 
 movement towards Fife by the Alloa road ; but, 
 learning that Cromwell was preparing to take ad- 
 vantage of his absence, he returned, and resumed 
 his position at the Tor wood. 
 
 As soon as Lesley was reseated in front of Stir- 
 ling, Cromwell hastened to pursue his operations to 
 the north. Leaving four regiments of horse and as 
 many of foot to protect Edinburgh, he marched 
 rapidly to Queens- ferry, where he passed the Forth 
 with the remainder of his army. Without losing a 
 moment he pushed on to Perth, there being nothing 
 in the way that could impede his progress. Perth, 
 which commands the passes into the northeastern 
 counties and the Highlands, was in no condition to 
 resist an enemy. Its old walls were in a dilapida- 
 ted state, and it was otherwise unprovided with 
 adequate means of defence. It had doubtless been 
 considered as quite safe while Lesley held his 
 ground on the Forth. In four-and-twenty hours 
 after his arrival Cromwell became master of the 
 town. To secure his conquest, Cromwell began 
 the erection of a citadel, but the completion of this 
 work he was soon under the necessity of delegating 
 to other hands. When the tidings reached London 
 of his having advanced to Perth, the Parliament re- 
 solved to strengthen its military force, and it ac- 
 cordingly authorized the Council of State to raise a 
 body of infantry, to the number of four thousand
 
 154 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 men, exclusive of officers. This was a prudent and 
 well-timed measure, from which much benefit waa 
 ultimately derived. 
 
 A march through Strathallan upon Perth, eithei 
 to give battle to Cromwell, or to watch and embar. 
 rass his movements ; a march eastward from Stir- 
 ling, to act upon the rear of the enemy's line of op- 
 erations ; and a rapid movement upon Edinburgh, 
 to disperse the scanty republican corps which had 
 been left in that quarter, were all within the choice of 
 Lesley. Neither of them, however, was adopted. 
 Charles had resolved to stake his fortune upon one 
 desperate cast of the die, by penetrating into Eng- 
 land and hurrying forward to the capital. He san- 
 guinely hoped that, during his progress, his parti- 
 sans in the northern and midland counties would 
 throng to his standard, and that his enemies would 
 be disheartened and kept down by the republican 
 army being too distant to succour them. This da- 
 rmg project received the sanction of the Scots gen- 
 erals and statesmen, some of whom were eager for 
 fame and revenge, while others wished to give the 
 enemy "work in England rather than consume 
 their countrymen with a lingering war, and make 
 the seat of it in Scotland." Argyle alone dissent 
 ed ; he, foreboding disaster, laboured strenuously, 
 but ineffectually, to dissuade Charles from his pur- 
 pose. The opposition of this nobleman was, indeed, 
 not likely to prevail with a monarch who hated him. 
 On the last day of July the Scottish army broke up 
 from the Torwood, and began its route to the bor- 
 der, in the direction of Carlisle. 
 
 Though for some time past the probability of a 
 Scottish irruption into England had often entered
 
 CHARLES II. 155 
 
 the thoughts of the Commonwealth rulers and gen- 
 erals, considerable alarm was excited by that proba- 
 bility being converted into a certainty. Till now 
 such an event had been looked upon as fraught 
 with no great danger, inasmuch as it was believed 
 either that the Scots would merely make a diversion 
 with a part of their force, which might be easily re- 
 pelled, or that, if a regular invasion were attempted, 
 Cromwell and his army would be at hand to con- 
 front the invaders, and perhaps inflict on them a 
 heavier blow than they had received three years be- 
 fore at the battle of Preston. But in the present 
 case circumstances were changed. By his ventur- 
 ous movement to Perth, Cromwell had placed him- 
 self at such a distance from the scene of action that 
 he was several marches in the rear of the royal ar- 
 my ; and, as the Parliament had no adequate force 
 collected in England, irreparable mischief might 
 be done before he could bring his veterans to the 
 rescue. 
 
 Cromwell himself was evidently staggered by this 
 sudden manoeuvre of Charles. In his despatch to 
 the Parliament, his apprehensions and embarrass- 
 ment repeatedly become visible, in spite of his ef- 
 forts to conceal them ; and he writes in an apolo- 
 getical tone, which shows how strong an impression 
 he supposed to have been made upon his employers 
 by the danger which threatened them. 
 
 ** I do apprehend," says the general, " that if he 
 goes for England, being some few days' march be- 
 fore us, it will trouble some men's thoughts, and 
 may occasion some inconveniences ; of which I 
 hope we are as duly sensible, and have been, and I 
 trust shall be, as diligent to prevent as any. And in-
 
 156 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 deed this is our comfort, that in simplicity of heart 
 as to God we have done to the best of our judg- 
 ments ; knowing that if some issue were not put to 
 this business it would occasion another winter's war, 
 to the ruin of your soldiery, for whom the Scots are 
 too hard in respect of enduring the winter difficul- 
 ties of this country, and been an endless expense of 
 treasure to England in prosecuting this war. 
 
 " It may be supposed we might have kept the en- 
 emy from this by interposing between him and Eng- 
 land, which truly I believe we might ; but to re- 
 move him out of this place without doing what we 
 have done, unless we had a commanding army on 
 both sides of the river of Forth, is not clear to us , 
 or how to answer the inconveniences afore mention- 
 ed, we understand not. We pray, therefore, that, 
 seeing that there is a possibility for the enemy to 
 put you to some trouble, you would (with the same 
 courage, grounded upon a confidence in God, where- 
 in you have been supported to the same things God 
 hath used you in hitherto), you would improve the 
 best you can such forces as you have in readiness, 
 or as may on the sudden be gathered together, to 
 give the enemy some check until we shall be able to 
 reach up to him, which we trust in the Lord wo 
 shall do our utmost endeavour in. And, indeed, wo 
 have this comfortable experiment from the Lord, 
 that this enemy is heart.smitten by God ; and, 
 whenever the Lord shall bring us up to them, we be- 
 lieve the Lord will make the desperateness of this 
 counsel of theirs to appear, and the folly of it also. 
 When England was much more unsteady than now, 
 and when a much more considerable army of theirs, 
 unfoiled, invaded you, and we had but a weak foree
 
 CHARLES II. 157 
 
 to make resistance at Preston, upon deliberate ad- 
 vice we chose rather to put ourselves between their 
 army and Scotland, and how God succeeded that 
 is not well to be forgotten. 
 
 " This is not out of choice on our part, but by 
 some kind of necessity ; and it is to be hoped will 
 have the like issue, together with a hopeful end of 
 your work ; in which it is good to wait upon the 
 Lord, upon the earnest of former experiences and 
 hope of his presence, which only is the life of our 
 cause." 
 
 But, though Cromwell was alarmed, as well he 
 might be, he lost not a jot of his promptitude, en. 
 ergy, and presence of mind. Leaving Monk with 
 a sufficient force to carry on the war in Scotland, 
 he instantly bent his march to the south, and reach- 
 ed Edinburgh on the 4th of August. Major-gen- 
 eral Harrison, one of the most active and intelli- 
 gent of the Commonwealth officers, who, with three 
 thousand horse and some foot, was then in the neigh- 
 bourhood of Berwick, was directed to push on in 
 an oblique direction, for the purpose of gaining, or 
 getting in advance of, the left flank of the royal 
 army, and impeding the king's movements towards 
 the British capital. Major-general Lambert, with 
 between three and four thousand cavalry, was or- 
 dered to follow in the first instance the footsteps of 
 Charles, to retard his progress through the nor- 
 thern frontier counties, and then to form a junction 
 with Harrison. Cromwell himself, with nine regi- 
 ments of foot and the rest of the horse, proceeded 
 by forced marches from Leith to Newcastle. At 
 a somewhat later period, a division, under Fleet- 
 wood, bent its course from the south to unite with
 
 158 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 Cromwell, Lambert, and Harrison. All the conv 
 manders rallied round them the militia and trained 
 bands on their way, and took vigorous measures 
 to prevent the resources of the country from falling 
 into the hands of the enemy. 
 
 It was on the 6th of August, after a march of 
 six days from the Torwood, that Charles set foot 
 on the soil of England. He was immediately pro- 
 claimed king, at the head of the army, amid the 
 roar of cannon ; and the ceremony was repeated 
 on the following day at Penrith. "This poor 
 place," says Lord Lauderdale, in a letter to Lord 
 Balcarras, " has given us a day's bread and cheese, 
 which is our first supply in England." From his 
 letter, and those of the Duke of Hamilton and Lord 
 Wentworth, it appears that at this moment the 
 king's forces amounted to about fourteen or fifteen 
 thousand foot and six thousand horse ; that all the 
 rigid covenanters having left them, the army was 
 wholly devoted to the king ; that the troops were 
 under such excellent discipline that they had not ta- 
 ken the worth of a sixpence since their arrival ; and 
 that men enough might be procured if the king had 
 but arms to give them. At Penrith, the son of Lord 
 Howard of Eskrig came over with a part of his 
 troop to the royal army, and was knighted by the 
 king. 
 
 Charles halted for a day at Penrith to rest and 
 refresh his men, and then pushed forward by Ken- 
 dal to Lancaster. To accelerate his march as much 
 as possible, he mounted as many of his infantry as 
 he could find horses for. Again he halted at Ellel 
 Moor, four miles to the south of Lancaster, and then 
 continued his course through Preston and Wigan
 
 CHARLES II. 158 
 
 to Warrinjrton, on the Mersey, which latter place 
 he reached on the 16th of August. 
 
 In his passage through Westmoreland and Lan- 
 cashire, his army is said to have been much thinned 
 by desertion, and to have been joined by a veiy 
 small number of royalists. It must be remember- 
 ed, however, that there was little time given for the 
 friends of Charles to array themselves under his 
 standard, his resolution to invade England having 
 been suddenly taken, and his march pursued with 
 considerable rapidity. At Preston he was met by 
 the Earl of Derby, who had landed at Wyerwater 
 from the Isle of Man with three hundred men, sixty 
 of whom were cavalry. The earl took his leave 
 of Charles at Warrington, and returned to the cen- 
 tre of Lancashire, to collect and organize the king's 
 partisans in the northwestern counties. In a few 
 days he got together about fifteen hundred men, 
 and might have become formidable to the republi- 
 cans, had not his career been cut short by Colonel 
 Robert Lilburne, who : with much inferior numbers, 
 routed and utterly dispersed the royalists at Pres- 
 ton before the close of the month. 
 
 While Charles was speeding through Cumberland, 
 Westmoreland, and Lancashire, his indefatigable 
 opponents were pressing forward with still greater 
 swiftness to frustrate his designs. On the 12th of 
 August Cromwell crossed the Tyne at Newburn, 
 near Newcastle, and encamped at Ryton. He was 
 in motion again on the 14th ; and on the 20th he 
 arrived at Doncaster, a march of about a hundred 
 and twelve miles. From the metropolis, towards 
 which he was wending his course, he was still a 
 hundred and sixty miles distant. It is therefore not
 
 160 PERILOUS ADVENTURES 
 
 wonderful that at London the citizens and the Par 
 liament felt extreme disquiet, which in some was 
 heightened into absolute terror, and that many be- 
 gan to despair of the republican cause. Harrison 
 and Lambert, meanwhile, moved with so much ce- 
 lerity that they got the start of Charles. They ef- 
 fected their junction on the 14th in the neighbour 
 hood of Preston, whence they continued their rouu 
 to Warrington, to defend the passes of the Mersey. 
 Their united force was eight thousand horse, a 
 thousand dragoons, and about three thousand foot. 
 The two generals lost no time in endeavouring to 
 spoil the fords between Warrington and Manches- 
 ter, and taking whatever other measures might con- 
 tribute to retard the march of the royal army. 
 
 Harrison and Lambert did not, however, make at 
 Warrington that vigorous defence which their prep, 
 arations seemed to promise. Though they had 
 previously resolved to accept a battle, they now 
 deemed it prudent to decline a serious engagement 
 in their present position. The reason assigned for 
 this change was, that the ground was unfavourable 
 for cavalry. Nothing more than a slight skirmish 
 took place at the bridge, which the republicans had 
 barricaded. The post was defended no longer than 
 was necessary to give the generals time to complete 
 their arrangements for effecting a retrograde move- 
 ment. They retired by the Knutsford road, avow- 
 edly with the intention of making a stand on Knuts- 
 ford Moor, though it may be doubted whether they 
 had any such purpose. The royal army crossed 
 the Mersey impatient for action, Charles himself 
 being at the head of the van, which consisted of his 
 own life-guards. For some distance the royalists
 
 CHARLES II. 161 
 
 pressed hard upon the republican rear ; but the pur- 
 suit was soon discontinued, and the republican lead- 
 ers accomplished their retreat in good order, and 
 with scarcely any loss. 
 
 At this moment Charles was but a hundred and 
 eighty-four miles from London, while Cromwell, 
 notwithstanding his eagerness to press forward, had 
 not yet proceeded farther than the vicinity of the 
 Tees, two hundred and forty miles from the metrop- 
 olis. The king was at least four days ahead, and 
 those four days, rightly employed, might have given 
 him a chance for the crown. Everything, however, 
 depended upon daring, which in some situations is 
 prudence. But the counsels of Charles had begun 
 to be " sicklied o'er with that pale cast of thought" 
 which is destructive to " enterprise of great pith and 
 moment." There can, I think, be little doubt, that 
 at this period, if not earlier, he abandoned the plan 
 of inarching to London, and resolved to take up a 
 position behind the Severn. In Wales, and in the 
 counties between the Mersey and the Severn, espe- 
 cially in Worcestershire, he had many partisans, 
 whom he probably hoped to rally round his stand- 
 ard, so as to enable him to maintain a defensive 
 war, during the continuance of which his friends in 
 England and Scotland, relieved from the pressure 
 of the republican forces, would have an opportuni- 
 ty of rising in his favour. Under certain circum- 
 stances this new scheme might have been feasible : 
 under those which actually existed it proved fatal. 
 
 From Newcastle to Warrington, Harrison and 
 Fleetwood had moved obliquely in a southwestern 
 direction, to be in advance of the royal forces ; but 
 they now desisted from their close watch upon the 
 
 24 H
 
 162 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 king, and directed their march from the west to 
 wards the southeast, through Congleton, Leek 
 Cheadle, and Abbots Bromley, to the confines ol 
 Staffordshire, Derbyshire, and Warwickshire, in 
 order to put themselves in communication with the 
 main army under CromweH. Notwithstanding this 
 change in their line of march, they still preserved 
 the power of timely interposing between the king 
 and the metropolis. 
 
 While the Parliamentary leaders were retirii g 
 by the Knutsford road, Charles pursued his way ;o 
 Northwich, and thence to Stoke, near Nantwicn. 
 where he halted on the eighteenth. " Their coun- 
 cils seemed very unsteady," says Harrison, who vas 
 active in procuring intelligence of all the royalist 
 movements. From more than one cause the king 
 was, in truth, labouring under serious embarrass- 
 ment. He had discovered that the committee of 
 ministers, or, as it was called, the presbytery of the 
 army, were as hostile as ever to the cavaliers, and 
 would accept of no aid except from subscribers to 
 the covenant. Major-general Massey was then in 
 Lancashire, soliciting the ministers of lhat county 
 to exercise their influence with the people in the 
 king's behalf; he was the bearer of a letter to them 
 from the committee, in which the latter passed a 
 sentence of proscription upon those whom they de- 
 nominated malignants. Charles now wrote to Mas- 
 sey, desiring that he would burn this impolitic mis- 
 sive, and hasten back to the royal army. 
 
 From Nantwich Charles moved forward to Blore 
 Heath, and thence to Tong-Norton, not far from 
 Shifnal, in Shropshire. From Tong-Norton he 
 sent a summons to Colonel Mackworth to surren-
 
 CHARLES II. 163 
 
 der the town of Shrewsbury. The possession of 
 this place would have been highly advantageous, 
 and he was led to believe that the governor was not 
 ill disposed towards him. Mackworth, however, 
 answered his summons and rejected his offers of 
 reward in a decided and even contemptuous tone- 
 Charles therefore continued bis march to Worces- 
 ter, at which city he resolved to make a stand. In 
 bis progress through Worcestershire the king 
 received a considerable accession of partisans. 
 " They have persuaded the people," says Fleet- 
 wood, " that there is no such man alive as my Lord- 
 general Cromwell, and that we have no army left. 
 Upon this account, they have had more additions of 
 men in Worstershire than in all England besides." 
 It was on the 22d of August that the king, at the 
 head of his vanguard, consisting of about five hun- 
 dred horse, appeared before Worcester. The city 
 was occupied by a small force of militia and cavalry, 
 who made a show of resistance, to give time for the 
 removal of the magazine. Their retreat, however, 
 was quickened by the conduct of the townspeople, 
 who generally declared for the king ; some of the 
 citizens even fired out of the windows upon the re- 
 publicans, while the latter were striving to make 
 head against the royal army. Finding it impossi- 
 ble to prolong the defence of the place, the slender 
 garrison gave up the contest, and effected its retreat 
 to Gloucester. The gates were thrown open by 
 order of the town-council, and Charles made his en- 
 trance amid the triumphant acclamations of his 
 friends. He was proclaimed on the following day, 
 and issued i manifesto, calling upon the people to 
 rally round him. This was succeeded, two days
 
 f&4 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 afterward, by a general rendezvous in the Pitch 
 croft of those who came forward in obedience to his 
 call : they are said to have amounted to about two 
 thousand, among whom were several persons of 
 rank and fortune. Before the close of the month 
 the king was also joined by the Earl of Derby, with 
 a few royalists who had escaped from the rout at 
 Preston. The strength of the king's army was va. 
 riously estimated at from twelve to sixteen thousand 
 men, the last of which is perhaps nearest to th& 
 truth. 
 
 Charles, it must be owned, was not without ra- 
 tional grounds for concluding that he might main 
 tain himself in the position which he now occupied. 
 Worcester, situated on the left bank of the Severn, 
 over which it has a bridge, connecting it with the 
 suburb of St. John's, was a walled city, and its capa- 
 bility of defence had already been manifested. In 
 1646 it had resisted the republican forces from 
 March till July. From the outset of the war it had 
 been strongly attached to the royal cause : it was 
 one of the first to declare for the late monarch, and 
 the last to submit to his enemies. In its rear flows 
 the Severn, a navigable river nearly a hundred 
 yards wide, on which, except that of Worcester, 
 there was then no bridge between Bewdley and 
 Upton, the former fourteen miles above the city, 
 and the latter ten below it. On the right bank, 
 little more than two miles from Worcester, the 
 River Teme forms, at nearly a right angle, a June- 
 tion with the Severn, and covers the southern ap- 
 proach to the suburb. The nature of the grrund 
 on both sides of the city is not unfavourable to de- 
 fensive operations. Behind the hoe of the Severn
 
 CHARLES II. 165 
 
 stretches the principality of Wales, where Charles 
 had many zealous partisans. Independent of these 
 circumstance'' to induce Charles to make his stand 
 here, he was probably influenced by another con. 
 sidenition, the hope of also obtaining possession of 
 Gloucester, where Massey, who had once so gallant- 
 ly defended that fortress, was supposed to have con- 
 siderable influence. From the confession of the re- 
 publicans themselves, it appears that the safety of 
 Gloucester was at one moment endangered. 
 
 But, whatever might be the natural advantages of 
 the position which the king held, it is obvious that, 
 unless they were promptly and skilfully turned to 
 account, they must be of little avail. To repel the 
 powerful army which was advancing, every military 
 resource must be called into play. With an army 
 not more than half as strong as that of his antago. 
 nist, it was clearly not the policy of Charles to risk 
 everything on the issue of an immediate battle, 
 all the chances of which were so fearfully against 
 him : on the contrary, prudence dictated to guard 
 with sleepless vigilance the line of the Severn, to 
 strengthen and repair the old works of Worcester, 
 and protect by fieldworks all the defensible points 
 and approaches round the city ; in short, to weaken 
 *nd tire out the enemy by a lingering and harass, 
 ing warfare, and thus to gain time, which in such 
 cases is among the best of allies. Opportunity and 
 hands were not wanting for the performance of the 
 necessary labour, there being men in abundance, 
 and nt republican troops having come up till six 
 days had elapsed. But, says a royalist officer in 
 his narrative, when " they came before us at Wor- 
 cester, the city was neither fortified nor provision.
 
 166 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 ed." Fleetwood asserts, indeed, that, three days 
 after their entrance into the city, the leaders of the 
 royal army " were different and uncertain in their 
 councils" as to what should be done, and that it 
 was only in compliance with the earnest entreatiea 
 of the mayor, sheriff*, and some of the aldermen, 
 that they were prevailed on to think of fortifying 
 the place when it was too late to do it effectually. 
 Beyond putting into some sort of repair the work 
 which was called Fort Royal, no considerable prog- 
 ress seems to have been made in defensive meas- 
 ures. 
 
 The formidable opponent of Charles was, mean, 
 while, rapidly approaching him. From Doncaster, 
 which, as we have seen, he reached on the 20th 
 Cromwell, proceeding through Nottingham, Coven 
 try, Warwick, and Stratford-upon-Avon, arrived on 
 the 28th at Evesham. Here his junction was ef- 
 fected with the corps of Lambert and Harrison, and 
 with that of Fleetwood. which had marched from 
 the southern counties by the way of Banbury and 
 Shepstone. On the following day the whole came 
 .in sight of Worcester, and Cromwell fixed his head- 
 quarters at Spetchley, in the house of Judge Berke- 
 ly, about two miles to the southeast of the city. 
 On the 31st he was farther re-enforced by three 
 thousand men from Suffolk and Essex, under Sir 
 Thomas Honiwood and Col. Cooke. His strength 
 now amounted to at least thirty thousand men. 
 
 Cromwell had not been many hours before Wor- 
 cester when an event occurred which was the fore- 
 runner, and, in some measure, the cau.se of a fata) 
 catastrophe. The highly important pass of Upton 
 was confidp/1 *r Major-general Massey, who occu
 
 CHARLES II. 167 
 
 pied it with five hundred horse. Upton is seated on 
 the right bank of the Severn, and is approached by 
 a bridge, the only one between Worcester and Glou- 
 cester. On the Upton side, the bridge was com- 
 manded by a church, which stood at the termina- 
 tion of it. It might be supposed that nothing would 
 have been omitted that could give security to a post 
 of so much importance. This, however, was not 
 the case ; and it is astonishing that Massey, a sol- 
 dier who had acquired -eputation, should in a whole 
 week have done nothing to provide against attack, 
 and at last have allowed himself to be taken by sur- 
 prise. Without " any design or expectation" of 
 being able to do more than reconnoitre, Lambert, 
 with a body of horse, marched towards Upton on 
 the 28th, while Cromwell was taking up his quar- 
 ters at Spetchley. With equal surprise and pleas, 
 ure he found that the royalists had been as careless 
 as an enemy could wish them to be. An arch of 
 the bridge had indeed been broken, but there was 
 a piece of timber left across it which afforded a 
 passage. The post was also slenderly and negli- 
 gently guarded. Lambert, who had approached 
 with only a few men to reconnoitre, instantly saw 
 his advantage, and seized upon it. Twenty dis- 
 mounted troopers with carbines crept over the piece 
 of timber, and took possession of the church. Mas- 
 sey was at length awakened to his danger, and made 
 an attempt to dislodge the republicans ; but he was 
 too late. As fast as his troops came up, Lambert 
 dismounted them and sent them over ; and, after a 
 short contest, Massey was wounded, and driven in 
 disorder from the field. Not a man was lost by 
 the assailants. The victor did not delay a moment
 
 168 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 in sending to Fleetwood for a re-enforcement of foot, 
 and before the day was spent a large part of Fleet, 
 wood's division was established at Upton. Expect, 
 ing that an effort would of course be made to re- 
 cover a post of such vital importance, Fleetwood 
 prepared to make an obstinate resistance ; but he 
 was left unmolested by the royalist generals, though 
 his position, ten miles from the main army, would 
 have been hazardous, had it been promptly anc, 
 vigorously attacked by a superior force. 
 
 While the royal army remained wholly inactive 
 on the side of Upton, it operated with little more 
 vigour, and no success, on the side of Worcester. 
 An incessant fire was indeed kept up from the city, 
 but with far more of noise than execution. " They 
 shoot all day excessively at our horse and foot,'' 
 says a republican despatch, "as if they feared nevei 
 to want powder or bullets." A sally, which was 
 attempted on the night of Cromwell's arrival, was 
 beaten back in an almost bloodless encounter, there 
 being only one of the besiegers wounded, and three 
 of the assailants slain. On the following night it 
 was determined by a council of war, at which 
 Charles presided, that a second and more formidable 
 sortie should be made. The object of this was to 
 drive the republicans from a house about a mile 
 south of the city, in which they had stationed two 
 hundred men, and also to attack a part of theii 
 camp. For this purpose, a select body of horse 
 and foot, to the number of fifteen hundred, marched 
 out through Silbury gate. This second effor*. was 
 as bootless as the first. The republicans were in- 
 formed of the design of their opponents, and did 
 not wait for the onset. When the royalists were
 
 CHARLES II. 169 
 
 within two hundred yards of the post, they were 
 met by the enemy, and compelled to retire into the 
 city, with the loss of several men, among whom 
 was Major Knox. He was slain in a skirmish with 
 Colonel Fairfax's regiment. " Coming very boldly 
 up," says an account of the action, " and leaping 
 over a hedge, he rushed upon a stand of pikes, and 
 so lost his life in a vapour." This sneering de- 
 scription is less creditable to its unchivalric writer 
 than it is to the gallant officer whose fall it com- 
 memorates. 
 
 During the week that elapsed between his com 
 ing before Worcester and his leading the republi- 
 cans into action, Cromwell was busily occupied in 
 making arrangements to strike a decisive blow. A 
 vigorous cannonade and bombardment were kept 
 up against the beleaguered city. To carry into 
 effect the plan of operations which he had formed, 
 and which embraced both banks of the river, it was 
 necessary for him to construct, in the vicinity of 
 the place, a bridge over the Severn ; and, as all the 
 boats had been removed by the royalists, he was 
 obliged to have a sufficient number conveyed on 
 cars from Pershore, Evesham, and other towns 
 upon the Avon. Confident of victory, he likewise 
 took means to reap all its advantages ; he sent Lil- 
 burne, with a thousand horse, to secure the pass at 
 Bewdley, and despatched orders to the militia, the 
 trained bands, and the troops in garrison, to occupy 
 positions for intercepting the retreat of the routed 
 enemy. 
 
 The third of September was the day chosen by 
 Cromwell for giving battle : it was the anniversary 
 of the victory at Dunbar. We may believe that,
 
 170 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 like Napoleon, Cromwell thought the judicious 
 choice of a day might inspirit his troops and de- 
 ject his antagonists, and thus tend to the gaining 
 of another triumph ; but the Parliament, at a sub. 
 sequent period, seems to have feared that a belief 
 in fortunate days might be generated, and therefore 
 gravely informed the people that the conflict took 
 place " in pursuance of former councils, the execu- 
 tion of which Providence had delayed till that day, 
 without any such predetermination on their part." 
 In such language there is at least as much vanity 
 as piety. 
 
 It was on the right bank of the Severn, which the 
 strange abandonment of Upton had thrown open to 
 him, that Cromwell determined to assail the royal 
 ists. His success in that quarter would interdict 
 all retreat, by closing against them the roads which 
 lead to Salop, Herefordshire, and Wales. His 
 great numerical superiority allowed him to venture 
 upon that dividing of his forces which, had the 
 scales been more equally balanced, would have 
 been an impolitic and dangerous measure. A con- 
 siderable portion of his army was already on the 
 right bank, and Cromwell now ordered a bridge of 
 boats to be thrown over the Severn, that he might 
 render the whole of his force available in any direc- 
 tion. The spot selected for the bridge was about 
 a mile south of the city, a little above the conflu- 
 ence of the Teme with the Severn. 
 
 Early in the morning, the troops in the neigh, 
 bourhood of Upton, led by Fleetwood, Dean, In- 
 goldsby, Gott, and Gibbons, began their march to- 
 wards the Teme, the bridges on which river had 
 all been destroyed by the royalists. The repub.
 
 CHARLES II. 171 
 
 licans did not reach the scene of action till between 
 two and three o'clock in the afternoon. The con. 
 struction of the bridge over the Severn had, mean 
 while, been going on. It was not till Fleetwood'a 
 van came in sight of the city that an alarm of the 
 enemy's approach was given, when orders were is- 
 sued to put in motion that part of the royal army 
 which was posted in the suburbs of St. John's. 
 While the troops of St. John's were getting under 
 arms, Charles himself proceeded towards the Teme, 
 to direct Major-general Montgomery and Colonel 
 Keith to maintain to the last the pass at Powyck, 
 and to send a detachment to interrupt the forming 
 of the bridge over the Severn. He then returned 
 to Worcester. 
 
 The second and most important of these orders 
 was, however, of no effect ; the republicans suc- 
 ceeded in the difficult operation of bridging the 
 Severn, nor does it appear that they met with any 
 serious opposition in doing so. That the royalists 
 should have suffered such a measure to be carried 
 into execution while they were yet masters of the 
 sight bank, and when it would seem that the frail 
 structure might have been shattered by merely 
 setting heavy bodies adrift down the stream, is al- 
 most imcomprehensible. As soon as the bridge 
 was finished, re-enforcements, led by Cromwell in 
 person, poured in upon Fieetwood, and another 
 bridge, within pistol-shot of the principal one, was 
 speedily thrown over the Teme, between Powyck 
 and the Severn. The communication between the 
 various parts of the republican army was now com- 
 plete. 
 
 Thfe struggle on t*ie Teme had commenced be- 
 O
 
 172 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 fore the arrival of- Cromwell. The royalists had 
 lined all the hedges from Powyck to the Severn 
 with musketeers, and they maintained their ground 
 against Fleetwood with great gallantry. Every 
 hedge and wall was obstinately disputed. The 
 constantly increasing numbers of the republicans, 
 however, and the enthusiasm inspired by the pres- 
 ence of Cromwell, enabled the assailants at length 
 to drive back these outposts upon the main body/ 
 which was drawn up in Wyck field, beyond Powyck 
 bridge. There the royal army made a resolute 
 stand. For two hours the battle raged without in- 
 termission, and with no decided advantage on either 
 aide. The vigorous exertions of Cromwell, and a 
 determined charge of his cavalry and pikemen,. 
 finally turned the scale against the royalists, and 
 compelled them to begin to fall back. Still they 
 withdrew in tolerable order, fighting " from hedge 
 to hedge" as they receded. But their retreat was- 
 quickened into a rout by the approach of another 
 body of the enemy, which, crossing the Teme on 
 the Hereford road, had turned their flank, and now 
 came into action. They were closely pursued and 
 driven over the bridge, at the foot of which the vic- 
 tors established themselves ; and thus all egress 
 from Worcester, on the western side, was complete, 
 ly closed. In this contest, Keith among others was 
 taken prisoner, and Montgomery was severely 
 wounded. 
 
 On the right bank of the Severn all was now ir- 
 recoverably lost. In this conjuncture Charles de- 
 termined upon taking a step, which is the only one 
 on the royal side throughout the whole conflict that 
 wears a military aspect, or which afforded any
 
 CHARLES II. 173 
 
 chance of turning the fortune of the day. Calcu- 
 lating that the republican array on the east of the 
 river must be much weakened by the large de- 
 tachments made from it, and that the enemy would 
 not have time to repass the Severn, he resolved to 
 make an abrupt and impetuous attack with the 
 whole of his forces upon that part of Cromwell's 
 army which was stationed before Worcester. At 
 this critical moment, could the bridge have been 
 destroyed or seriously injured, there is no saying 
 what might have been the result. Perhaps, too, 
 the movement decided upon by Charles would have 
 had a better prospect of success, had it been at- 
 tempted before the royalists were completely over- 
 thrown on the western bank, and while the troops 
 led by Cromwell were still indispensable to achieve 
 the victory in that quarter. The sudden calling 
 away of Cromwell in the midst of the battle would 
 at least have suspended the progress of Fleetwood, 
 or his remaining would have tended to discourage 
 that part of the republican army which was con- 
 tending against the king. 
 
 The afternoon was far advanced when Charles 
 " poured forth at the several gates of the city all 
 his horse and foot" upon the enemy's position in 
 front of Worcester.* The main attack was made 
 from Sidbury gate, and was led by the king, ac- 
 companied by the Dukes of Hamilton and Bucking, 
 nam, Lord Grandison, Sir Alexander Forbes, and 
 
 * The battle is generally represented as having raged on both 
 ides of the river during the whole of the day. It seems clear, 
 however, from the despatches of Cromwell, and the statement 
 in the Act for a Thanksgiving, that this representation is erro- 
 neous, and that the two conflicts were not simultaneous, bat 
 Decessive.
 
 174 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 many other of the English and Scottish nobility 
 It was soon found that the hope of having to con- 
 tend with only a minor portion of the hostile army 
 was fallacious. The watchful Cromwell had dis- 
 covered or divined the manoeuvre of his royal an- 
 tagonist, had repassed the Severn with a re-en- 
 forcement, and was now prepared to meet the com- 
 ing attack. The royalists, nevertheless, advanced 
 with determined spirit. A sanguinary contest en- 
 sued, which was maintained by them for nearly 
 three hours. So resolutely did they charge at the 
 outset, that the republicans recoiled before them. 
 To follow up or even retain their advantage was 
 beyond their power. Their valour was baffled by 
 the fatal facility which Cromwell possessed of 
 bringing up fresh troops from the western bank of 
 the river. Yet, even when their ammunition was 
 expended, they continued the fight with the butt- 
 ends of their muskets. Numbers, seconded by 
 skill, at last prevailed, and the weary and overborne 
 royalists began to give way. The horse were the 
 first to fly, and their example was soon followed by 
 the foot. Cromwell did not allow time for his an- 
 tagonist to rally ; his victorious soldiers pressed on 
 so furiously at the heels of their flying foes, that 
 they drove them through Sidbury gate, and entered 
 the city along with them. In their hot pursuit they 
 left Fort Royal behind them, which was held by 
 fifteen hundred men. The commanding officer waa 
 now summoned by Cromwell, but he refused to 
 surrender. His means of defence, however, ap- 
 pear not to have been equal to his courage. The 
 fortress was directly carried by storm, the garrison 
 put o the sword, and a violent cannonade opened
 
 CHARLES II. 175 
 
 upon the city from the guns of the captured 
 place. 
 
 In Worcester, meanwhile, all was confusion and 
 dismay. It was in vain that the king rode up and 
 down among the panic-stricken Scotch horse and 
 foot, urging them by every consideration of honour, 
 loyalty, and self-preservation to rally and make a 
 stand. Finding them deaf to all his arguments 
 and entreaties, he despairingly exclaimed, " Shoot 
 me dead on the spot rather than let me live to see 
 the sad consequences of this day !" 
 
 In various parts of the town, bands of royalists, 
 principally English, still struggled to hold their 
 ground ; not with the hope of victory (for that hope 
 was dead), but to gain time for retiring in better 
 order. By the gallantry of one of these bands, at 
 the head of which were the Earl of Cleveland, Sir 
 James Hamilton, Colonels Wogan and Carlos, and 
 other brave men, the escape of Charles was greatly 
 facilitated. A desperate charge which they made 
 upon the republicans in the High-street checked 
 his pursuers, and enabled him to mingle with the 
 crowd of horsemen that were flying through St. 
 Martin's Gate ; yet so closely was he tracked, that 
 he is said to have quitted a house by the back door 
 while his enemies were entering by the front. The 
 last feeble effort of the royalists was made at the 
 town-hall, where several of them fell and many 
 were taken prisoners. At nightfall three thou- 
 sand of the vanquished were lying lifeless on the 
 field of battle, and thrice that number were pris- 
 oners. 
 
 When Charles found that there was no chance 
 f rallying a sufficient force to atte npt a regular
 
 176 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 retreat, he began to deliberate on the best mode of 
 providing for his own safety. Deeming it impos- 
 sible to make his way back to Scotland, and per- 
 haps hiving no very strong desire to revisit that 
 country, his first impulse was to proceed rapidly 
 to London, which city he hoped to reach as early 
 as, if not before, the news of his defeat. But this 
 scheme he could not carry into effect, for he was 
 entangled and hurried on in a northern direction 
 by the throng of fugitives. " We had such a num- 
 ber of beaten men with us of the horse," says the 
 king in his narrative, " that I strove as soon as ever 
 it was dark to get from them ; and though I could 
 not get them to stand by me against the enemy, I 
 could not get rid of them, now I had a mind to it." 
 
 At length, with about sixty gentlemen and offi- 
 cers, among whom were the Duke of Buckingham, 
 the Earls of Derby and Lauderdale, and Lord Wil- 
 mot, the king contrived to slip out of the main 
 north road, " letting all the beaten men go along 
 it," and directing his course to the right hand; 
 " not knowing very well which way to go," says 
 he, " for it was then too late for us to get to Lon- 
 don on horseback, riding then directly for it ; nor 
 could we do it, because there were yet many people 
 of quality with us that I could not get rid of." 
 
 Before they had gone many miles, they ran into 
 a peril of which at the time they were unconscious. 
 They took their way through a town " short of Wol- 
 verhampton," which probably was Stourbridge. 
 It was at that moment occupied by a troop of the 
 Parliamentary cavalry. Fortunately for them, the 
 officer in command, strangely forgetting his duty, 
 had negl scted to post any guards, so that, favoured
 
 CHARLES II. 177 
 
 by the night, they passed through undiscovered. 
 It waa not till afterward that they learned the dan- 
 ger to which they had been exposed. A march of 
 twenty-five miles brought them at daybreak to 
 White Ladies, near Tonge Castle, situated between 
 Shiffnal, in Shropshire, and the western border of 
 Staffordshire. White Ladies was a private abode, 
 the inhabitants of which had been described to 
 Charles by Mr. Gifford, one of his Salopian parti, 
 sans, as being " honest people." The character 
 M'as hardly deserved. There the king and his fol- 
 lowers procured some bread and cheese, which 
 seems to have been the first refreshment they had 
 tasted since their overthrow at Worcester. 
 
 While they were making this humble repast, a 
 countryman brought intelligence that about three 
 thousand of the royalist horse, with General Les- 
 ley and some other officers, were hard by upon 
 Tonge Heath, but all in utter disorder. On hear, 
 ing these tidings, the officers, with the exception 
 of Lord Wilmot, strongly pressed the king to join 
 this body of troops, and endeavour to effect a re- 
 treat into Scotland. Charles, however, was by no 
 means inclined to follow their advice. He was of 
 opinion that the country on their line of march 
 would everywhere rise to intercept and hunt them 
 down ; and he felt no confidence in the prowess or 
 devoted loyalty of his routed bands : " Men who 
 had deserted him when they were in good order, 
 would not," he thought, " stand to him when they 
 had been beaten." He therefore resolved to dis- 
 guise himself, and proceed on foot to ihe metropo- 
 lis. Lord Wilmot, who meant to take the same 
 road on horseback (" in regard, I think," says 
 
 2412
 
 178 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 Charles, " of his being too big to go on foot"), was 
 the only person whom he made acquainted with his 
 resolution. In truth, all the rest of his train re. 
 quested him to conceal from them his intentions, 
 " because they knew not what they might be forced 
 to confess." Though they had unanimously deter- 
 mined to join Lesley, they had evidently but little 
 expectation of eluding their pursuers. 
 
 The misfortune which they anticipated was not 
 slow in arriving. What Charles had foreseen ac- 
 tually took place. " We had no guides (says one 
 of the royalist officers), so we often lost our way, 
 yet reached Newport by the next morning, thirty 
 miles on this side of Worcester, and there thought 
 to have refreshed ourselves and marched for Scot- 
 land. But our enemies flew faster than we, and 
 there wanted not considerable forces in every place 
 to front us ; and we were so closely pursued in the 
 day by the army and garrison forces, and in the 
 night by the country, that from the time we came 
 out of Worcester till Friday in the evening that I 
 was taken prisoner, seven miles from Preston, I 
 nor my horse never rested. In the day we often 
 faced the enemy, and beat their little parties back 
 to their main body ; but still those of us whose 
 horses were tired or shot were lost, unless they 
 could run as fast as we rode. In the night we 
 kept close together ; yet some fell asleep on their 
 horses, or, if their horses stayed behind, we might. 
 hear by their cries what the bloody country people 
 were doing with them." 
 
 Charles, meanwhile, was beginning to carry his 
 purpose into effect. It was at White Ladies that 
 he assumed his disguise, and it was one of the mart
 
 CHARGES II. 179 
 
 un-kinglike that can well be imagined. His haii 
 was cut short to his ears, and his head was cov- 
 ered by a battered and greasy steeple-crowned hat 
 with turned up brims, and no lining or band. Ilia 
 shirt was coarse, and patched in various parts. 
 His jerkin, of green cloth, had been on hard ser 
 vice till it was quite napless, and even rubbed al 
 most white in some places. It was kept in coun- 
 tenance by an old leathern doublet, and equally old 
 gray cloth breeches. On his legs, next to his skin, 
 he had a pair of white flannel stockings, that had 
 formerly been his boot stockings, and from which 
 the tops were now cut off, to prevent detection. 
 Over them was another pair, of green yarn, with- 
 out feet, and plentifully darned at the knees. His 
 heavy shoes were slashed, that he might walk with 
 less pain ; an advantage which was perhaps coun. 
 terbalanced by the readiness with which mud and 
 gravel found an entrance into them. His hands 
 were stained to conceal their natural whiteness, 
 and in one of them he carried a long, crooked 
 ihornstick. As soon as he was thus equipped he 
 " flung his clothes into a privy-house, that no one 
 might see that anybody had been stripping them- 
 selves." 
 
 When Charles had completed his metamorpho- 
 sis he sent for a countryman named Richard Pen- 
 drell, for whose fidelity Mr. Gifibrd had pledged 
 himself. There were several of the Pendrells, 
 brothers, all of them Roman Catholics, and all 
 stanch adherents of the fugitive sovereign. Charlea 
 had changed his clothes at the house of a Prot- 
 estant rather than at one of their houses, be- 
 cause he meant to make a pro l onged use of their
 
 180 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 services, and consequently wished to avoid bring, 
 ing suspicion upon them. One reason for his seek- 
 ing refuge among Catholics was, that he was 
 aware of their having hiding-holes for their priests, 
 which he thought might serve to conceal himself 
 in case of need. 
 
 Unlike the Pendrells. the man at whose house he 
 disguised himself was not proof against the strong 
 temptation of gold. " He came to one of them 
 about two days after, asking where I was," says 
 the king ; " told him he might get a thousand 
 pounds if they would tell, because there was that 
 sum laid upon my head ; but this Pendrell was so 
 honest, although he knew at the time where I was, 
 he bid him have a care what he did, for that I 
 being got out of all reach, if they should now dis- 
 cover I had ever been there, they would get no- 
 thing but hanging for their pains." 
 
 It was well for Charles, therefore, that he quitted 
 White Ladies as soon as he was attired in his rus- 
 tic garb. Richard Pendrell conducted him to a 
 neighbouring wood, near the verge of which, not 
 far from the highway, Charles took his station to 
 watch whether any pursuit was made. He had 
 not been long there before a republican troop of 
 horse passed by. This was the only alarm which 
 occurred. The rain, which fell all day, was a for- 
 tunate circumstance, as it deterred the hostile 
 scouring parties from penetrating into the wood. 
 Here Charles remained from early in the morning 
 till dark, without meat or drink, having had nothing 
 since his hasty meal of bread and cheese. In the 
 course of his conversation with Pendrell about 
 going to London, he found that he knew none of
 
 CHARLES II. 181 
 
 the gen '.le men on the road .0 the capital. This, 
 however, was of no consequence, as, oil second 
 thought, the king had changed his plan, and re- 
 solved to go over the Severn into Wales, where he 
 had numerous friends, and whence he could pro- 
 cure a passage into France. 
 
 In pursuance of this new scheme, they set out 
 after dark to journey on foot towards the Severn, 
 which river Charles designed to cross at a ferry in 
 the neighbourhood of Madely, between Bridgenorth 
 and Shrewsbury. It was about midnight when 
 they came near a water-mill, where they heard 
 some people talking. Upon this Pendrell caution- 
 ed him to keep silence if any question were asked, 
 as his not speaking in the accent of the country 
 would betray them. " As we came near to the 
 mill," says the king, " we could see the miller, as I 
 believe, sitting at the mill-door, he being in white 
 clothes. It being a very dark night, he called out, 
 * Who goes there V and Richard Pendrell answer- 
 ed, 'Neighbours going home,' or some such like 
 words. Whereupon the miller cried out, ' If you 
 be neighbours, stand, or else I'll knock you down.' 
 On this, believing there was company in the house, 
 the fellow bid me follow him close, and ran to a gate 
 that went up a dirty lane, up a hill, and opened the 
 gate. The miller cried out, ' Rogues ! Rogues !' 
 and thereupon some men came out of the mill af- 
 ter us, who I believe were soldiers. So we fell a 
 running, both of us, up the lane, as long as we could 
 run, it being very deep and very dirty, till at last I 
 bid him leap over a hedge and lie still, to hear if 
 anybody followed us, which we did, and continued 
 lying down upon the ground about half an hour.
 
 182 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 when, hearing nobody come, we continued our way 
 ovei to the village upon the Severn.** 
 
 Charles was now informed by Pendrell that 
 there lived in the town a loyal gentleman, Woolfe 
 by name, who could give him a safe lodging during 
 the daytime, as his house contained hiding-holes 
 for priests. Fearing that this person might decline 
 to harbour so dangerous a guest as he was, the king 
 despatched Pendrell to inquire whether he would 
 afford shelter to a man of quality, who dared not 
 travel except at night. When Pendrell stated that 
 it was one of those who had escaped from Wor- 
 cester, Woolfe replied that he would not risk his 
 neck for any one unless it were the king himself. 
 Pendrell had been ordered not to mention the name 
 of the person who sought a refuge ; but the speech 
 he had just heard induced him, rather hazardously, 
 to disclose the secret. Luckily, Woolfe was a 
 stanch royalist; and he unhesitatingly declared, 
 that he would gladly venture all he had in the world 
 to secure his majesty. It was not, however, with- 
 out much misgiving, and only because the dreaded 
 daylight was at hand, that Charles resolved to ac- 
 cept the proffered service. 
 
 The information which Charles received from 
 Woolfe was discouraging. There were at that 
 moment two companies of militia in the town, the 
 ferry was guarded, and every one who passed over 
 was strictly examined. To conceal him in the 
 house was impossible ; for the hiding-holes had 
 been discovered, and, consequently, in case of sus- 
 picion arising, they would instantly be searched. 
 The only place where they would have a chance 
 of being undetected was behind the hay and straw
 
 CHARLES II. 183 
 
 in his barn. Thither, after having eaten some 
 cold meat, they accordingly repaired, and there 
 they remained during the whole of the day. In 
 the dusk they were visited by Woolfe and his son, 
 who brought them some victuals. The latter was 
 just come back from Shrewsbury, where he had 
 been a prisoner. By both father and son the king 
 was strongly dissuaded from endeavouring to pro- 
 ceed towards Wales ; the Severn being so jealous, 
 ly watched at every point where it could be cross- 
 ed, that it would be impossible to elude the vigi- 
 lance of the republicans. The result was, that 
 Charles relinquished his intention of advancing in 
 that quarter, and resumed his design of journeying 
 to London. This change rendered it necessary 
 for him and his guide to retrace their steps, as well 
 for the purpose of making arrangements as to 
 learn the motions of Lord Wilmot. " So we set 
 out as soon as it was dark," says the king, " but us 
 we came by the mill again, we had no mind to be 
 questioned a second time there, and therefore, ask- 
 ing Richard Pendrell whether he could swim or no, 
 and how deep the river was, he told me it was a 
 scurvy river, not easy to be passed in all places, 
 and that he could not swim. So I told him that, 
 the river being but a little one, I would undertake 
 to help him over ; upon which we went across some 
 closes to the river side, and entering the river first 
 to see whether I myself could go over, I found it was 
 but a little above my middle, and thereupon, taking 
 Richard Pendrell by the hand, I helped him over. " 
 Pendrell conducted the king to a lone house, 
 called Boscobel, which was situated close to a wood 
 of the same name, nor far from White Ladies, and
 
 184 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 inhabited by one of his brothers. The owner in- 
 formed Charles that he had taken Lord Wilmot to 
 the house of Mr. Whitgrave, a Catholic loyalist, 
 near Wolverhampton, where that nobleman would 
 be safe. Charles learned, also, that there was at 
 Boscobel a royalist major, named Carlos, one of 
 the fugitives from Worcester. As he knew that 
 this officer was trustworthy, he sent for him to con- 
 suit with him as to what was best to be done on 
 the following day. Carlos was of opinion that it 
 would be equally dangerous to remain within doors 
 or to go into the wood, the chances being that both 
 places would be thoroughly searched. This was 
 startling news to the king, but he was soon reliev- 
 ed. With that quickness of eye and readiness of 
 resource which a soldier ought always to possess, 
 Carlos had already discovered an excellent position. 
 On an open spot, from whence all that approached 
 could be seen at some distance, stood a large oak. 
 The tree had been lopped about three years before, 
 and had, in consequence, grown so thick and bushy, 
 that the mass of foliage was impervious to the sight 
 of a passer-by, though a person shrouded in U 
 could see external objects. Carlos proposed thul 
 they should ensconce themselves in this tree, and 
 the king assented to the scheme. 
 
 Having provided themselves with some bread 
 and cheese and small beer, the king and Major 
 Carlos took their station early in the tree, and there 
 they remained till night. It was lucky they had 
 not sought refuge in the wood ; as from their look- 
 out they could perceive soldiers searching the thick- 
 est parts of it, and now and then peeping out to see 
 if any suspicious-looking individuals were visible
 
 CHARLES II. 185 
 
 in the neighbourhood. While the kinj was in the 
 tree, one of the Pendrells went to Mosely Hall, the 
 mansion of Mr. Whitgrave, about four miles to the 
 north of Wolverhampton, to inquire for Lord Wil- 
 mot. He brought back word that his lordship was 
 still there, and wished his majesty to join him, as 
 there was a very secure hiding-hole in the house. 
 At nightfall, therefore, the king, accompanied by 
 Richard Pendrell, took his way to Mosely Hall, 
 where he met with a warm reception. From 
 thence he despatched Lord Wilmot to Bentley Hall, 
 the seat of Colonel Lane, between Walsall and 
 Wolverhampton. to consult with the colonel as to 
 the means of reaching London. A feasible scheme 
 for the king's escape out of the country was pro- 
 posed by Colonel Lane. He had a cousin, the wife 
 of a Mr. Norton, who lived in Somersetshire, two 
 or three miles beyond Bristol. His plan was, that 
 his sister should pay a visit to their cousin, and 
 take his majesty with her in the disguise of a ser- 
 vant. At Bristol he might readily, it was thought, 
 Snd a vessel to convey him from England. 
 
 By this project, which was analogous to his own 
 tbrmer design of obtaining a passage to France 
 from Wales, Charles avoided the risk of visiting 
 London. He adopted it, and the next night he 
 went to Bentley Hall. His feet were by this time 
 become so sore from heavy shoes and long walk- 
 ing, that he was obliged to ride to Colonel Lane's. 
 There he made a change for the better in his dress, 
 by putting on " a kind of gray cloth suit," fit for 
 his new character of a serving-man. On the fol. 
 lowing morning, the king on horseback, with Miss 
 Lane behind him, a married sister of hers and her
 
 186 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 husband, and Mr. Lascelles, a cousin of the colo. 
 nel, set forward on their journey. " But," saya 
 the king, " we had not gone two hours on our way 
 before the mare I rode on cast a shoe, so we were 
 forced to ride to get another shoe at a scattering 
 village ; and, as I was holding my horse's foot, I 
 asked the smith, * What news ?' He told me there 
 was no news that he knew of, since that good news 
 of beating those rogues the Scots. I asked him 
 were there none of the English taken that joined 
 with the Scots. He answered that he did not 
 hear that that rogue Charles Stuart was taken, but 
 some of the others were taken, though not Charles 
 Stuart. I told him that, if that rogue was taken, he 
 deserved to be hanged more than all the rest, for 
 bringing in the Scots. Upon which he said I spoke 
 like an honest man, and so we parted." 
 
 At Stratford-on-Avon the party was to divide, 
 Windsor being the destination of Miss Lane's sis- 
 ter and brother-in-law. About a mile before they 
 came to the town, a circumstance occurred which 
 might have placed the king in jeopardy. They 
 perceived a troop of cavalry at a short distance in 
 front of them ; the men had dismounted, and the 
 horses were grazing by the roadside. On seeing 
 the troopers, the brother-in-law declared that he 
 would not pass by them; he had, he said, been 
 once or twice beaten by the Parliamentary soldiers, 
 and he would not risk being treated so again. 
 Aware of the construction that might be put upon 
 their sudden retrograde movement, Charles whis- 
 pered to Miss Lane that it would probably bring 
 the troopers after them, and entreated l>er to pre- 
 vent it. But m entreaty could prevail upon the
 
 CHARLES II. 18? 
 
 timid gentleman to run the chance of being cudg- 
 elled. They went round, therefore, to enter by an. 
 other road, and in doing so came full upon the 
 troopers, who had continued their march to the 
 same place. Either their flight had not been no- 
 ticed, or it had not raised the suspicion of the offi- 
 cer in command, or he was less vigilant than is 
 usual in such cases, for they passed on unquestioned. 
 
 Leaving the brother-in-law and his wife at Strat- 
 ford, the rest of the travellers pursued their journey 
 to Marston, between Stratford and Evesham, where 
 they passed the night at a kinsman's of Colonel 
 Lane. On the following night they slept at Ciren- 
 cester, and next day they arrived in safety at Mr. 
 Norton's, beyond Bristol. The moment that Miss 
 Lane entered the house of her relative she sent for 
 the butler, and desired that he would take care of 
 William Jackson, her attendant, who had lately been 
 ill of an ague, and was yet weak and far from being 
 recovered. The pale face of Charles, on whom 
 fatigue, anxiety, and scanty food had produced their 
 natural effect, gave the colour of truth to what she 
 said. Pope, the butler, was a good-natured and 
 loyal fellow, who, when Charles was a boy, had 
 been servant to the prince's groom of the bed- 
 chamber, and had afterward been a trooper in the 
 late king's army. He treated the new guest kind- 
 ly, and kept him, as being an invalid, apart from 
 the domestics. He was not, however, intrusted 
 with the secret of the royal fugitive. 
 
 " The next morning, as we rose pretty early," 
 
 says the king, " and I had a pretty good stomach, I 
 
 went to the buttery hatch to get my breakfast* 
 
 where I found Pope and two or three other men in 
 
 P
 
 188 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 the room, and we all fell to, eating bread and but- 
 ter, to which he gave us very good ale and sack ; 
 and, as I was sitting there, there was one that look' 
 ed like a country fellow sat just by me, who, talk- 
 ing, gave such a particular account of the battle of 
 Worcester, that I concluded he must be one of 
 Cromwell's soldiers. I asked him how he came 
 to give so good an account of that battle, and he 
 told me he was in the king's regiment, by which I 
 thought he meant one Colonel King's regiment ; 
 but, questioning him farther, I perceived that he 
 had been in my regiment of guards, in Major 
 Broughton's company, that was my major in the 
 battle. I asked him what kind of a man I was, to 
 which he answered by describing exactly both my 
 clothes and horse ; and, looking upon me, he told 
 me that the king was at least three fingers taller 
 than 1. Upon which I made what haste I could 
 out of the buttery, for fear he should indeed know 
 me; as being more afraid when I knew he was 
 one of our own soldiers, than when I took him for 
 one of the enemy's." 
 
 Pope quitted the buttery along with the monarch. 
 On their entering the hall, Mrs. Norton was pass- 
 ing by, and Charles, faithful to his assumed charac- 
 ter, took off his hat, and stood with it in his hand. 
 As he was taking it off, he observed Pope looking 
 earnestly in his face. No suspicion, however, was 
 excited in his mind by this circumstance. But, in 
 about half an hour, Lascelles entered his bedroom, 
 in evident perturbation, and told him that, in spite 
 of all assurances to the contrary, Pope maintained 
 that the pretended William Jackson was the king. 
 " Is he an honest man ?" said Charles, who instant-
 
 CHARLES II. 189 
 
 {y made up his mind as to the most prudent course 
 of action. Lascelles replied that Pope had always 
 been on their side, and that he dared trust him with 
 his life. This was enough for Charles, and he or- 
 dered him to be sent for immediately. 
 
 The recognition of the king by Pope proved to 
 be a fortunate occurrence. It seems certain that, 
 had it not taken place, Charles would have been 
 exposed to great danger. After thanking his maj- 
 esty for his favourable opinion, and pledging him- 
 self to his service, Pope requested to know what 
 were his plans, and warned him that, though Mr. 
 and Mrs. Norton were good people, there were one 
 or two in the house who were thorough rogues. 
 The king told him that he meant to get a ship at 
 Bristol, and desired him to go there that very day 
 to learn whether there was one about to sail for 
 France or Spain. He also informed him that he 
 expected Lord Wilmot to arrive at Mr. Norton's 
 before the day was out. Pope said, in reply, that 
 it was lucky he had happened to discover his majes- 
 ty, for that much mischief might have been caused 
 by Lord Wilmot coming there openly, as there 
 were several people in the house by whom he was 
 well known. His first care, therefore, was to go to 
 meet his lordship, and lodge him at a neighbouring 
 alehouse till the darkness allowed him to be secret- 
 ly introduced into the royal chamber. Fie then 
 went to Bristol, but could hear of no vessel bound 
 for France or Spain that would put to sea in less 
 than a month or five weeks. 
 
 To remain so long a time in this quarter would 
 have been hazardous for the king. He therefore 
 consulted with Lord Wilmot and Pope as to the
 
 190 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 *tep which must be taken. Pope had the merit of 
 suggesting a place of refuge for the monarch. He 
 stated that Colonel Francis Wyndham, a tried royal- 
 ist, resided at the little village of Trent, which lies 
 between Yeovil and Sherborne, about two miles to 
 the north of those towns. " Being my old ac- 
 quaintance, and a very honest man," says the king, 
 " I resolved to get to his house ; but the night be- 
 fore we were to go away, we had a misfortune that 
 might have done us some prejudice ; for Mrs. Nor- 
 ton was suddenly taken very ill, so that we could 
 not tell how in the world to find an excuse for Miss 
 Lane to leave her cousin in that condition; and 
 indeed it was not safe to stay any longer there, 
 where there was so great a resort of idle and dis- 
 affected people. At length, consulting with Mr. 
 Lascelles, I thought the best way would be to coun- 
 terfeit a letter from her father's house, old Mr. 
 Lane's, to tell her that her father was extremely 
 ill, and commanded her to come away immediate- 
 ly, for fear she should not find him alive ; which 
 letter Pope delivered so well while they were all at 
 supper, and Miss Lane playing her part so dexter- 
 ously, that all believed Mr. Lane to be in great 
 danger, and gave his daughter the excuse to go 
 away with me the next morning early." 
 
 The travellers passed the night at Castle Carey, 
 and arrived at Colonel Wynd ham's on the follow- 
 ing evening. Having lodged Charles in safety, 
 Miss Lane and Mr. Lascelles returned to their 
 homes in Staffordshire, The king was joined at 
 Trent by Lord Wilmot, " whom," says he, " I still 
 took care not to keep with me, but sent him a little 
 before, or led him to come after me." It is probable
 
 CHARLES 11. 191 
 
 that Charles was induced to act thus by the fear of 
 being discovered through the indiscretion of his 
 lordship, whom he could never persuade to put on 
 any disguise, Wilmot always objecting that he 
 should look frightfully in it. 
 
 A conference was speedily held between Wilmot 
 and Wyndham as to the means of procuring a ves- 
 sel for the king, the result of which was, that Wynd- 
 ham visited Giles Strangways, a brother royalist, 
 to learn whether he had any naval acquaintance at 
 the western ports. Strangways had no connexion 
 of the kind, and dared not venture on the coast to 
 make inquiries; but he exhorted Wyndham, who 
 was less closely watched, to seek for a ship him- 
 self, and he generously sent by him three hundred 
 broad pieces for his majesty's use. This was a 
 welcome supply to Charles, who had only a few 
 shillings in his pocket, he having deemed it impru- 
 dent to carry a large sum about him, which, if he 
 chanced to be stopped and searched, would tally 
 but badly with his mean attire. 
 
 At length a fair prospect seemed to open that the 
 wanderings of Charles would be brought to a favour- 
 able close. At Lyme, Wyndham found a merchant 
 whom he could trust with the secret, and who hired 
 a vessel to convey the king to France. On the 
 day appointed by the merchant, Charles, in his dis. 
 guise, with Mrs. Judith Coningsby, a cousin of 
 Wyndham's, behind him, Lord Wilmot, Wyndham 
 himself, and one of his servants, named Peter, pro- 
 ceeded to Lyme. There they were directed by 
 the merchant to go on to a village near a creek, 
 at a short distance from Lyme, where the passen- 
 ger was to be taken on board. The wind was fair,
 
 192 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 and they sat up all night, anxiously awaiting the 
 vessel, but she never came. In the morning, Lord 
 Wilmot and Peter were despatched to discover the 
 cause of the disappointment, and to ascertain 
 whether the bark might be expected at night. In 
 the mean while, Wyndham, Miss Coningsby, and 
 Charles went on to Bridport, where Wilmot was 
 to rejoin them. 
 
 At Bridport they were in imminent danger of 
 falling into the lion's mouth. "Just as we came 
 into the town," says the king, " I could see the 
 streets full of red coats (Cromwell's soldiers), be- 
 ing a regiment of Colonel Haynes's, one thousand 
 five hundred men, going to embark to take Jersey ; 
 at which Frank Wyndham was very much troub- 
 led, and asked me what I would do. I told him 
 we must go impudently into the best inn in the 
 town, and take a chamber there, as the only thing 
 V) be done ; because we should otherwise miss my 
 Lord Wilmot in case we went away anywhere 
 else, and that would be very inconvenient both to 
 him and me. So we rode directly into the best 
 inn of the place, and found the yard full of soldiers. 
 I alighted, and taking the horses, thought it the 
 best way to go blundering in among them, and 
 lead them through the middle of the soldiers into 
 the stable, which I did, and they were very angry 
 with me for my rudeness." 
 
 On entering the stable, Charles found that he 
 had run out of one peril into a greater. Having 
 called the ostler to assist in feeding the horses, he 
 was greeted by him with, " Sure, sir, I know your 
 face." Though the king was rather startled, he 
 preserved his presence of mind. He adroitly que%-
 
 CHARLES II. 193 
 
 tioned the man as to where he came from, and 
 learned that he had been ostler at an inn at Exeter, 
 near the house of a Mr. Potter, where Charles had 
 resided in the time of the war. The king then 
 said that he must have been seen at Mr. Potter's, 
 whom he served for more than a year. " ' O then,' 
 says the fellow, * I remember you a boy there ; T 
 and with that was put off from asking any more 
 about it, but desired we might drink a pot of ale 
 together, which I excused by saying that I must 
 go wait upon my master, and get his dinner ready 
 for him, but told him my master was going to Lon- 
 don, and would return about three weeks hence, 
 when he would lay there, and I would not fail to 
 drink a pot with him." 
 
 When dinner was over, they rode out of the 
 town to join Lord Wilmot, whom they had seen 
 pass by, and who had also seen them. He over- 
 took the party, and informed the king that there 
 had been some mistake between him and the mas. 
 ter of the ship, but that he believed she might be 
 ready on the next night. Not thinking it advisa- 
 ble to go to the village where he had set up, Charles 
 went to another, about four miles 'inland. From 
 this place he sent Peter to Lyme, to inquire whether 
 the ship would be ready. The messenger return- 
 ed with disagreeable tidings. The master of the 
 vessel, though not in the secret, had become appre- 
 hensive of peril from the service for which he was 
 hired, and had positively refused to perform it. 
 Charles was therefore under the painful necessity 
 of going back to the house of Colonel Wyndham. 
 
 The village of Trent was, however, no safe 
 abode for the king. He had already had sufficient 
 
 2413
 
 194 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 evidence as to the state of the people's feelings 
 with respect to him. Hearing the bells ring one 
 day, and seeing a mob gathering together in the 
 churchyard, he sent a maid-servant to learn the 
 cause. She brought word back, says Charles, 
 " that there was a rogue, a trooper, come out of 
 Cromwell's army, that was telling the people he 
 had killed me, and that that was my buff coat 
 which he then had on. Upon which, most of the 
 village being fanatics, they were ringing the bells, 
 and making a bonfire for joy of it." 
 
 Such being the disposition of the villagers, it is 
 not wonderful that, after having been a fortnight 
 among them, Charles should be desirous to change 
 his quarters. He was, besides, " known to very 
 many," by which, however well intentioned they 
 might be, the chance of his being detected was 
 materially increased. By the advice of Colonel 
 Robert Phillips, who resided at Salisbury, the king 
 removed to that neighbourhood. He was taken by 
 the colonel to Heale House, midway between Salis- 
 bury and Amesbury, the dwelling of a widow lady 
 named Hyde. The colonel introduced him as one 
 of his friends, but the widow knew him at first 
 sight, though she had seen him only once, and that 
 at a distance of several years. At supper he ob- 
 served that she eyed him earnestly ; but this gave 
 him no uneasiness, as he intended to confide in 
 ner. Accordingly, after supper he made himself 
 known. Assuring him that she had an excellent 
 hiding-place, she added that she did not think it 
 safe to trust any one but herself and her sister 
 with the knowledge of his being there. She ad- 
 vised him, therefore, to take horse in the morning
 
 CHARLES II. 195 
 
 as though he were going for good, and not to re- 
 turn till night, when she would contrive that all the 
 servants should be out of the house. In compli- 
 ance with this advice, Charles and Colonel Phillips 
 rode to Stonehenge, spent the day in examining 
 that mysterious structure, and came back to Heale 
 at the hour which had been agreed upon. Mrs. 
 Hyde introduced the king into his retreat, which ho 
 found to be convenient and skilfully contrived. 
 There Charles remained alone for four or five 
 days, his food being brought to him by Mrs. Hyde 
 cr her sister. 
 
 Ever since his disappointment at Lyme, his 
 friends had been diligently endeavouring to procure 
 for him the means of crossing the Channel. Rob- 
 in Phillips (as the king familiarly called him) had 
 even succeeded in engaging a vessel at Southamp- 
 ton ; but, at the moment when he thought that ev- 
 ery obstacle was removed, she was pressed by the 
 Parliament to carry troops to Jersey. Colonel 
 Gunter, his friend, who lived in Sussex, was then 
 commissioned to seek for a ship on that coast. 
 He was fortunate enough to obtain one at Shore- 
 ham. At this time Charles also received from 
 Lord Southampton an offer of his services in aid- 
 ing an escape. This offer was declined, the king 
 not wishing to endanger his lordship when there 
 was no absolute necessity for his so doing. 
 
 At two in the morning, accompanied by Colonel 
 Phillips, Charles quitted Heale House to begin his 
 journey to Sussex. When he had travelled about 
 fourteen miles he was met by Colonel Gunter and 
 Lord Wilrnot. The party slept that night at 
 Hambledon, beyond Bishops Waltham, at the house
 
 196 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 of Mr. Symonds, a brother-in-law of Colonel Gun. 
 ter. Charles was still in his gray cloth suit as a 
 domestic, and Symonds had not been intrusted with 
 the secret. " The master of the house was a very 
 honest poor man," says the king, " who, while we 
 were at supper, came (he having all the day been 
 playing the good fellow at an alehouse in the town), 
 and, taking a stool, sat down with us. His broth- 
 r-in-law, Colonel Gunter, talking very sullenly 
 concerning Cromwell and all his party, he went 
 and whispered his brother-in-law in the ear, and 
 asked whether I was not some round-headed rogue's 
 son, for I looked very suspiciously. Upon which, 
 Coloner Gunter answering for me that he might 
 trust his life in my hands, he came and took me by 
 the hand, and, drinking a good glass of beer to me, 
 called me brother roundhead." 
 
 They began their journey at daybreak, and met 
 with nothing worthy of notice till they arrived at 
 Arundel Hill, where they came "full butt" upon 
 the governor, Captain Morley, who was hunting. 
 They, however, passed unmolested. When the 
 king was told with whom they had fallen in, he 
 laughingly replied, "I did not like his starched 
 mustaches." At Houghton they stopped at an ale- 
 house to get some bread and drink ; and, as Colo, 
 nel Gunter had taken the wise precaution of pock- 
 eting a couple of neats' tongues at Hambledon, they 
 broke their fast very comfortably. "The neats' 
 tongues," says the colonel, " stood us in good stead, 
 and were heartily eaten." At Bramber an inci- 
 dent occurred which seemed to threaten them with 
 shipwreck in sight of port. " We found," says Gun- 
 ter, " the streets full of soldiers, on both sides the
 
 CHARLES II. 197 
 
 houses ; whoe unluckily and unknown .o mee were 
 come thither the night before to guard ; but, luckily, 
 (or, rather, by a very special Providence) were just 
 then come from their guard at Bramber Bridge 
 into the towne for refreshment. We came upon 
 them unawares, and were scene before we suspect- 
 ed anything. My lord Wilmot was ready to turne 
 back, when I stept in and said, ' If we doe, we are 
 undone. Let us go on boldly, and we shall not be 
 suspected.' ' He saith well,' said the king. I went 
 before, hee followed, and soe passed through, with- 
 out any hindrance. ' It was then between three and 
 fower of the clock in the afternoone. We went on, 
 but had not gone farre but a new terror pursued us ; 
 the same soldiers riding after us as fast as they 
 could. Whereupon the king gave me a hem ; I 
 slacked my pase till they were come uppe to me, 
 and by that tyme the soldiers were come, whoe 
 rudely passed by us (being in a narrow lane), soe 
 that we could hardly keepe our saddles for them, 
 but passed by without any further hurt, being some 
 thirty or forty in number." Charles preserved his 
 composure, but Lord Wilmot was thoroughly dis- 
 concerted by this meeting. The proximity of the 
 soldiers so alarmed him that he refused to stop at 
 the neighbouring village of Beeding, where Colonel 
 Gunter wished them to remain at a friend's house, 
 while he himself went forward to Brighthelmstone 
 to ascertain whether all was safe. 
 
 What followed till the king embarked we shall 
 give in his own words. " When we came to the 
 inn (the George) at Brighthelmstone, we met with 
 
 one Mr. , the merchant who had hired the 
 
 vessel, in company with her master (Nicholas Tat.
 
 198 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 tersal), the merchant only knowing me, having 
 hired her only to carry over a person of quality 
 that was escaped from the battle of Worcester, 
 without naming anybody ; and as we were all to- 
 gether, viz., Robin Phillips, my Lord Wilmot, the 
 merchant, and the master of the vessel, and I, I 
 observed that the master of the vessel looked very 
 hard on me. As soon as we had supped, the mas- 
 ter called the merchant aside, and told him he had 
 not dealt fair with him ; for, though he had given 
 him a very good price for the carrying over that 
 gentleman, yet he had not been clear with him ; 
 ' for,' says he, * he is the king, as I very well know 
 him to be so ;' upon which, the merchant denying 
 it, saying that he was mistaken, the master answer- 
 ed, * I know him very well ; for he took my ship, 
 together with other fishing vessels, at Brighthelm- 
 stone in 1648,' which was when I commanded 
 the king my father's fleet, and I very kindly let 
 them go again. ' But,' says he, * be not troubled 
 at it, for I think I do God and my country good 
 service in preserving the king ; and, by the grace 
 of God, I will venture my life and all for him, and 
 set him safe on shore, if I can, in France.' Upon 
 which the merchant came and told me what had 
 passed between them, and I therefore found myself 
 under the necessity of trusting him ; but I took no 
 kind of notice of it presently to him ; but, thinking 
 it not convenient to let him go home, lest he should 
 be asking advice of his wife, or any one else, we 
 kept him at the inn, and sat up all night drinking 
 beer and taking tobacco with him. 
 
 " And here I run another great danger, as being 
 confident I was known by the master of the inn.
 
 CHARLES II. 199 
 
 whose name was Smith. For as I was standing, 
 after supper, by the fireside, leaning my hand upon 
 a chair, and all the rest of the family being gone 
 into another room, the master of the house came 
 in and fell a talking with me ; and just as he was 
 looking about and saw there was nobody in the 
 room, he upon a sudden kissed my hand, that was 
 upon the back of the chair, and said to me, God 
 bless you, wherever you go. I doubt not before 1 
 die but to be a lord, and my wife a lady.' So I 
 laughed, and went away into the next room, not 
 desiring then any farther discourse with him, there 
 being no remedy against my being known by him, 
 and more discourse might have raised suspicion. 
 On which consideration I thought it best to trust 
 him on that matter, and he proved honest. 
 
 "About four in the morning, myself and the 
 company before named, and also Colonel Gunter, 
 went towards Shoreham, taking the master of the 
 ship with us on horseback, behind one of our com. 
 pany, and came to the vessel's side, which was not 
 above sixty tons. But it being low water, and the 
 vessel lying dry, I and my Lord Wilmot got up a 
 ladder into her, and went and lay down in the little 
 cabin till the tide came to fetch us off; but I was 
 no sooner got into the ship and lain down upon 
 the bed, but the master came in to me, fell down 
 upon his knees and kissed my hand, telling me that 
 he knew me very well, and that he would venture 
 life and all that he had in the world to set me down 
 safe in France. 
 
 " So about seven in the morning (October 15), 
 it being high water, we went out of the port ; but 
 the master being bound for Pool, laden with sea-
 
 200 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 coal, because he would not have it seen from Shore- 
 ham that he did not go his intended voyage,, stood 
 all the day, with a very easy sail, towards the Isle 
 of Wight, only my Lord Wilmot and myself of my 
 company on board. And as we were sailing the 
 master came to me, and desired me to persuade his 
 men to use their endeavour (with me) to get him 
 to set us on shore in France, the better to cover 
 him from any suspicion thereof. Upon which I 
 sent to the men which were forward a boy, and 
 told them truly that we were two merchants that 
 had had some misfortunes and were a little in debt ; 
 that we had some money owing us at Rouen, in 
 France, and were afraid of being arrested in Eng- 
 land ; that if they would persuade the master (the 
 wind being very fair) to give us a trip over to Diep- 
 pe, or one of the ports near Rouen, they would 
 oblige us very much; and with that I gave 'em 
 twenty shillings to drink, upon which they under- 
 took to second me if I would propose it to their 
 master. So I went to the master and told him our 
 condition, and that, if he would give us a trip over 
 to France, we would give him a consideration for 
 it ; upon which he counterfeited a difficulty, saying 
 it would hinder his voyage ; but his men, as they 
 had promised, joined their persuasions to ours, and 
 at last he yielded to set us over." 
 
 At five o'clock in the afternoon, being then off 
 the Isle of Wight, the master put the helm about, 
 and steered direct for the French coast. It waa 
 near break of day when the welcome land first 
 came in sight. But they were destined to have one 
 fright more. The tide failing and the wind going 
 round to the south, they were obliged to cast anchor
 
 CHARLES II. 
 
 within two miles of the shore. While they were 
 in this situation, a vessel was seen to leeward, which, 
 from " her nimble working," they suspected to be an 
 Ostend privateer. France and Spain were then at 
 war, and Charles feared that, finding them off a 
 French port, the Spanish privateer might seize and 
 carry them to England, or that Tattersal might sail 
 back again to avoid being captured. To prevent 
 such a disaster, Charles determined not to wait for 
 the rising of the tide, but to quit the ship as soon 
 as possible. They were accordingly conveyed to 
 the shore in the cockboat, which landed them at 
 Fecamp, in the province of Normandy. Their 
 fears, however, were groundless, for the supposed 
 privateer turned out to be a French sloop.* 
 
 Having procured horses at Fecamp, the king and 
 his companion hastened onward to Rouen. Their 
 appearance was evidently not calculated to gain for 
 them a favourable reception from a Norman inn. 
 keeper. They went to an inn in the fish-market, 
 one of the best in the city, " where," says Charles, 
 " they made a difficulty to receive us, taking us by 
 our clothes to be some thieves, or persons who had 
 
 * After the Restoration, Tattersal is said to have hit upon an 
 ingenious plan to bring himself to the king's recollection. He 
 brought up the Thames, and moored opposite to Whitehall, the 
 vessel in which he had conveyed Charles to France. His plan 
 was successful. He received a pension of 1002. per annum, and 
 was made a captain in the royal navy. He died in 1674, and was 
 *>uried in St. Nicholas Churchyard, at Brighton. His epitaph, 
 which, in execrable verse, gravely tells us that " he preserved 
 the Church, the crown, the nation ;" that " all the world was in 
 debt to his memory" for saving " Charles the Great ;" and that 
 * earth could not reward the worth him given," can scarcely fail 
 to excite a bitter smile when we call to mind the many circum- 
 stances that brand with indelible disgrace the reign of Charles 
 the Second.
 
 202 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 been doing some very ill thing, until Mr. Sanbourne, 
 a merchant for whom I sent, came and answered 
 for us." At Rouen they stayed for a day, to provide 
 themselves with more seemly attire, and then pro. 
 ceeded to Paris, near which city they were met by 
 the queen-dowager Henrietta Maria, with whom 
 they made their entrance into the French capital
 
 ESCAPE OF THE EARL OF NITHSDALE. 
 
 IN the rebellion of 1715, the object of which was 
 to place on the throne the son of James the Second, 
 several Scottish peers were involved. Among them 
 was William Maxwell, earl of Nithsdale. He was 
 taken prisoner at Preston, brought to trial early in 
 1716, and found guilty of high treason. Nithsdale 
 was a descendant from the brave Sir Eustace Max- 
 well, who distinguished himself by his unalterable 
 fidelity to the cause of Robert Bruce. The subse- 
 quent Maxwells seem to have been as firmly attach, 
 ed to the Stuart family as their ancestor had been 
 to the Bruce. During the Civil War between 
 Charles the First and the Parliament, two of the 
 earls Nithsdale bore arms and took a very active 
 part on the side of the monu-ch. It is chieiy to 
 this circumstance, and to his being a Catholic, that 
 the wife of Earl Willian. attributes the severity 
 which was experienced by her husband. " He be- 
 ing," says she, " a Roman Catholic upon the fron- 
 tiers of Scotland, who headed a very considerable 
 party a man whose family had always signalized 
 itself by its loyalty to the royal house of Stuart, and 
 who was the only support of the Catholics against 
 the inveteracy of the Whigs, who were very nu- 
 merous in that part of Scotland would become an 
 agreeable sacrifice to the opposite party. They 
 still retained a lively remembrance of his grand- 
 father, who defended his own castle of Caerlaverock 
 to the very last extremity, and surrendered it up
 
 204 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 only by the express command of his royal master. 
 Now, having his grandson in their power, they 
 were determined not to let him escape from theit 
 hands." 
 
 The surrender of Preston took place in the mid- 
 die of November. Winter had set in with great 
 rigour before the Countess of Nithsdale received the 
 melancholy tidings that her husband was in the 
 Tower, and that his life was in imminent danger. 
 She heard, too, that he had manifested the utmost 
 anxiety to have the consolation of seeing her. In 
 those days, when conveyances were of the most im- 
 perfect kind, a hasty journey to the British capital, 
 at such a dreary season, was no light undertaking. 
 But, consulting only her affection, this noble-spirited 
 woman set off without delay. She rode to New. 
 castle, whence she proceeded to York by the stage. 
 On her arrival at York, the country was covered 
 to such a depth with snow, and the weather was so 
 inclement, that it was impossible for the stage to 
 continue its progress. Even the mail could not be 
 forwarded. But, while her husband stood in need 
 of comfort and succour, she was not to be stopped 
 by the formidable obstacles which were opposed to 
 her. She resolutely took horse ; and, though the 
 snow was frequently above the horse's girths, she 
 reached London " safe and sound, and without any 
 accident." 
 
 But, though she had happily accomplished her 
 toilsome journey, there were still serious difficul. 
 ties to be overcome. On her applying to the gov- 
 ernment to be allowed to see her husband, she me: 
 with a repulse; she was told that her wish could 
 not be granted, unless she would consent to be shut
 
 EARL OF MTHSDALE. 
 
 jp with him in the Tower. To this, however, she 
 *ould not submit ; and she assigned as her reason 
 that she was in a state of health which would not 
 suffer her to undergo confinement. Her real mo- 
 tive for refusing was, that her being thus secluded 
 would prevent her from soliciting in her husband's 
 kehalf, and, what was of far more importance, would 
 render abortive a scheme which she had already 
 formed to effect his escape. The refusal she had 
 received from the government did not prevent her 
 from obtaining frequent interviews with her hus- 
 band. " By bribing the guards," says she, " I often 
 contrived to see my lord, till the day upon which 
 the prisoners were condemned ; after that we were 
 allowed, for the last week, to see and take our leave 
 of them." 
 
 As soon as she arrived in London, she began her 
 exertions to ward off the danger which impended 
 over the man she loved. Her first applications 
 were made to persons in office, or possessing po- 
 litical influence. The result would have disheart- 
 ened any one less determined to persevere. Not 
 a single individual held out to her the slightest 
 hopes. From every mouth she heard the dreadful 
 assurance that, though some of the captives would 
 be pardoned, it was absolutely certain that Lord 
 Nithsdale would not be included in the number. 
 
 From a direct appeal to the sovereign there was 
 little or no prospect of benefit. George the First 
 is said to have expressly prohibited any petition 
 being conveyed into his hands from the earl, and 
 even to have taken precautions to avoid a personal 
 supplication being made to him. Lord Nithsdale, 
 however, was extremely anxious that the king
 
 806 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 should receive one ; not, it appears, merely foi 
 his own sake, but because he flattered himself it 
 might excite an interest in favour of his wife. 
 Though the countess felt convinced that the step 
 would be unavailing, she consented to make the 
 ;rial, for the purpose of satisfying her husband. 
 * So, the first day that I heard the king was to go to 
 the drawing-room," says Lady Nithsdale, " I dress- 
 d myself in black, as if I had been mourning, and 
 sent for Mrs. Morgan (the same who accompanied 
 me to the Tower) ; because, as I did not know his 
 majesty personally, I might have mistaken some 
 other person for him. She stayed by me, and told 
 me when he was coming. I had another lady with 
 me (Lady Nairn), and we three remained in a 
 room oetween the king's apartments and the draw- 
 ing-room, so that he was obliged to go through it ; 
 and, as there were three windows in it, we sat in 
 the middle one, that I might have time enough to 
 meet him before he could pass. I threw myself at 
 his feet, and told him in French that I was the un- 
 fortunate Countess of Nithsdale, that he might not 
 pretend to be ignorant of my person. But, perceiv- 
 ing that he wanted to go off without receiving my 
 petition, I caught hold of the skirt of his coat, that 
 he might stop and hear me. He endeavoured to 
 escape out of my hands ; but I kept such strong 
 hold that he dragged me on my knees from the 
 middle of the room to the very door of the draw- 
 ing-room. At last, one of the blue ribands, who 
 attended his majesty, took me round the waist, 
 while another wrested the coat out of my hands. 
 The petition, which I had endeavoured to thrust 
 into his pocket, fell down in the scuffle, and I al
 
 EARL OF NITHSDALE. 20? 
 
 most fainted away through grief and disappoint, 
 meat. One of the gentlemen in waiting picked up 
 the petition ; and, as I knew that it ought to have 
 been given to the lord of the bedchamber who 
 was then in waiting, I wrote to him, and entreated 
 him to do me the favour to read the petition which 
 I had had the honour to present to his majesty. 
 Fortunately for me, it happened to be my Lord 
 Dorset, with whom Mrs. Morgan was very intimate. 
 Accordingly, she went into the drawing-room, and 
 delivered him the letter, which he received very 
 graciously. He could not read it then as he was 
 at cards with the prince ; but, as soon as ever the 
 game was over, he read it, and behaved, as I after- 
 ward learned, with the warmest zeal for my inter, 
 est, and was seconded by the Duke of Montrose, 
 who had seen me in the antechamber, and wanted 
 to speak to me. But I made him a sign not to 
 come near me, lest his acquaintance might thwart 
 my designs. They read over the petition several 
 times, but without any success ; but it became the 
 topic of their conversation the rest of the evening ; 
 and the harshness with which I had been treated 
 soon spread abroad, not much to the honour of the 
 king." 
 
 This fruitless supplication seems to have even 
 accelerated the fate of the condemned peers. It 
 was made on Monday, the 13th of February, and 
 on the Thursday or Friday following it was re- 
 solved in council that the sentence passed on the 
 delinquents should be carried into effect. The 
 eedful preliminary warrants and orders to the 
 lieutenant of the Tower, and to the sheriffs of Lon- 
 don and Middlesex, were accordingly issued on 
 Saturday.
 
 208 PERiLc-t'S ADVENTURES. 
 
 While these matters were in progress, the Count- 
 ess of Derwentwater, accompanied by the Duchesses 
 of Cleveland and Bolton, and several other ladies 
 of the highest rank, succeeded in obtaining a pri- 
 vate audience of the king, and implored his clemency 
 for her husband. She was suffered to speak, but 
 her prayers were in vain. 
 
 There was yet one resource left. It was indeed 
 a weak one, but we know that a drowning person 
 will catch at a straw. This was to petition the 
 two houses of Parliament to intercede for the crimi- 
 nals. On the 21st of February, the wives of the 
 doomed lords, with about twenty more ladies of 
 rank, went to the Parliament House to present peti- 
 tions, and solicit the members as they entered. 
 Nothing, however, was done by either assembly on 
 that day. On the ensuing morning, the mournful 
 band of wives, with an increased number of female 
 friends, again stationed themselves in the lobbies, 
 to win the votes of the members. This measure 
 produced considerable effect. Many were moved 
 by the tears and pleadings of the melancholy sup- 
 plicants. He is little to be envied who could wit- 
 ness a woman's grief without feeling his heart re- 
 lent. 
 
 In the Commons, the petitions were presented 
 by Sir Richard Steele, Mr. Shippen, and others, 
 all of whom strenuously exerted themselves to turn 
 the scale on the side of mercy. The speech of 
 Sir Richard Steele, in particular, was copious and 
 forcible ; and must have been powerful in its ef- 
 fect, as it drew down on him the virulent abuse 
 and slander of the ministerial journals. The mo. 
 tion to address the king in favour of the delin-
 
 EARL OF NITHSDALE. 
 
 quents was hotly opposed by the ministers and the 
 stanchest of their adherents. Walpole spoke with 
 a violence which did him no credit. He scarcely 
 stopped short of stigmatizing as traitois all who 
 wished the king to exercise in this instance his 
 prerogative of pardoning. His anger was doubt- 
 less heightened by finding that many who usually 
 voted with him were resolved not to do so in the 
 present case. Fearing that, if the question of an 
 address were put to the vote, he should be led in a 
 minority, he moved an adjournment for a week. 
 Even this point he could carry by a majority of 
 only seven votes out of three hundred and seven- 
 teen, there being one hundred and sixty-two in 
 the affirmative, and one hundred and fifty-five in 
 the negative. But by his success he closed one 
 avenue to the gates of mercy. 
 
 A still more vigorous struggle was made in the 
 Upper House. Many of the lords had been gained 
 over by female eloquence. " I went," says the 
 countess, " in company of most of the ladies of 
 quality who were then in town, to solicit the inter- 
 est of the lords as they were going to the house. 
 They all behaved to me with great civility, but par- 
 ticularly my Lord Pembroke, who, though he de- 
 sired me not to speak to him, yet promised to em- 
 ploy his interest in our favour, and honourably kept 
 his word, for he spoke in the house very strongly 
 in our behalf." 
 
 A long and animated debate took place on the 
 question of whether the petitions should be read. 
 This was vehemently opposed by the ministers and 
 their friends. The reading was nevertheless car- 
 ried in the affirmative, though by a small majority. 
 2414
 
 210 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 This result seems to have been produced chieflj 
 by the favourable speech of the Earl of Notting. 
 ham, the president of the council, whHi drew sev- 
 eral of the peers to follow his example. Foiled in 
 this point, the opponents of the petitions next con- 
 tended that the sovereign had no power to pardon 
 or reprieve persons who had been sentenced under 
 an impeachment. But here again they failed, 
 it being decided that the disputed power was pos- 
 sessed by the king. Lord Pembroke had a prin- 
 cipal share in producing this decision. 
 
 Having thus far succeeded, the advocates of the 
 condemned peers moved that an address should be 
 presented to his majesty, entreating him to grant 
 a respite to the convicted lords. But, to render 
 nugatory all that, had been done, the opposite party 
 moved as an amendment that his majesty should 
 be requested to reprieve such of the guilty peers 
 as might deserve his mercy. This was, in fact, 
 proposing to send to the block the only delinquents 
 who were in danger, it being well known that their 
 companions would be spared. This amendment 
 was carried, as was also another, that the dura- 
 tion of the respite should be left to his majesty's 
 wisdom and discretion. The address was present 
 ed on the same evening ; and the king replied that 
 on this and other occasions, he would do as h? 
 thought most consistent with the dignity of hi* 
 crown and the safety of his people. 
 
 The meaning of the king's words did not long 
 remain ambiguous. On the evening of the next 
 day, the 23d of February, a council was held to 
 decide upon, or, rather, to announce the fate of the 
 prisoners. A respite was granted to the Earl of
 
 EARL OF NITHSDALE. 211 
 
 Carnwath, and the Lords Widdriugton and Nairn , 
 but orders were given to execute the Earls of Der- 
 wentwater and Nithsdale, and Viscount Kenmure, 
 on the following morning. At the council, a disa- 
 greement on this subject is said to have arisen be- 
 tween the Earl of Nottingham and some of his fel- 
 low-councillors. His voting for lenient measures 
 was so highly resented by the court, that, before 
 the end of the month, his lordship himself, his broth- 
 er the Earl of Aylesford, his son, Lord French, 
 and his nephew, Lord Guernsey, were all dismiss- 
 ed from their offices. 
 
 From the very first, the Countess of Nithsdale 
 had placed but little reliance on the royal clemen- 
 cy, and had busied herself in devising the means 
 for her husband's escape. But, as soon as she 
 heard the turn which the debate had taken in the 
 House of Peers, she saw clearly that he could ex- 
 pect no favour from the government. "The sal- 
 vo," says this high-spirited woman, " quite blasted 
 all my hopes ; for I was assured it aimed at the 
 exclusion of those who should refuse to subscribe 
 to the petition, which was a thing I knew my lord 
 would never submit to ; nor, in fact, could I wish 
 him to preserve his life on such terms." There 
 remained, therefore, no other resource than to car- 
 ry into effect, without delay, the scheme which she 
 had formed to save him. She had less than four- 
 and-twenty hours in which to accomplish her pur- 
 pose. If within that short time she could not res- 
 cue her husband, his death was inevitable. With 
 what admirable skill and presence of mind she 
 achieved her arduous task, shall be told in her own 
 words. 
 
 R
 
 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 " As the motion had passed generally, I thought 
 1 could draw some advantage in favour of my de- 
 sign. Accordingly, I immediately left the House 
 of Lords and hastened to the Tower, where, affect- 
 ing an air of joy and satisfaction, I told all the 
 guards I passed that I came to bring joyful tidings 
 to the prisoner. I desired them to lay aside their 
 fears, for the petition had passed the house in their 
 favour. I then gave them some money to drink 
 to the lords and his majesty, though it was but 
 trifling ; for I thought that, if I were too liberal on 
 the occasion, they might suspect my designs, and 
 that giving them something would gain their good- 
 humour and services for the next day, which was 
 the eve of the execution. 
 
 " The next morning I could not go to the Tow- 
 er, having so many things on my hands to put in 
 readiness ; but in the evening, when all was ready, 
 I sent for Mrs. Mills, with whom I lodged, and ac. 
 quainted her with my design of attempting my 
 lord's escape, as there was no prospect of his being 
 pardoned ; and this was the last night before the 
 execution. I told her that I had everything in 
 readiness, and that I trusted she would not refuse 
 to accompany me, that my lord might pass for her. 
 I pressed her to come immediately, as we had no 
 time to lose. At the same time I sent for a Mrs. 
 Morgan, then usually known by the name of Hil. 
 ton, to whose acquaintance my dear Evans had in. 
 troduced me, which I looked upon as a very singu- 
 lar happiness. I immediately communicated my 
 resolution to her. She was of a very tall and 
 lender make ; so I begged her to put under her 
 own riding-hood one that I had prepared for Mr*
 
 EARL OF .MTU. si) A 1,1.. 213 
 
 Mills, as she was to lend hers to my lord, that in 
 coming out he might be taken for her. Mrs. Mills 
 was not only of the same height, but nearly the 
 same size as my lord. When we were in the coach 
 I never ceased talking, that they might have no lei- 
 sure to reflect. Their surprise and astonishment, 
 when I first opened my design to them, had made 
 them consent without ever thinking of the conse- 
 quences. On our arrival in the Tower, the first 1 
 introduced was Mrs. Morgan ; for I was only al. 
 lowed to take in one at a time. She brought in 
 the clothes that were to serve Mrs. Mills when she 
 left her own behind her. When Mrs. Morgan had 
 taken off what she had brought for my purpose, I 
 conducted her back to the staircase, and, in going, 
 I begged her to send me in my maid to dress me ; 
 that I was afraid of being too late to present my 
 last petition that night if she did not come imme- 
 diately. I despatched her safe, and went partly 
 down stairs to meet Mrs. Mills, who had the pre- 
 caution to hold her handkerchief to her face, as 
 was very natural for a woman to do when she was 
 going to bid her last farewell to a friend on the eve 
 of his execution. I had, indeed, desired her to do 
 it, that my lord might go out in the same manner. 
 Her eyebrows were rather inclined to be sandy, 
 and my lord's were dark and very thick ; however,. 
 I had prepared some paint of the colour of hers to 
 disguise his with. I also bought an artificial head, 
 dress of the same coloured hair as hers ; and I 
 painted his face with white, and his cheeks with 
 rouge, to hide his long beard, which he had not had 
 time to shave. All this provision I had before left 
 n 'he Tower. The poor guards, whom my slight
 
 214 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 liberality the day before had endeared me to, let 
 me go quietly with my company, and were not so 
 strictly on the watch as they usually had been ; and 
 the more so, as they were persuaded, from what I 
 had told them the day before, that the prisoners 
 would obtain their pardon. 1 made Mrs. Mills take 
 off her own hood and put on that which I had 
 brought for her. I then took her by the hand and 
 led her out of my lord's chamber ; and, in passing 
 through the next room, in which there were several 
 people, with all the concern imaginable I said, ' My 
 dear Mrs. Catharine, go in all haste and send me 
 my waiting-maid ; she certainly cannot reflect how 
 late it is ; she forgets that I am to present a peti- 
 tion to-night, and if I let slip this opportunity I am 
 undone, for to-morrow will be too late. Hasten 
 her as much as possible, for I shall be on thorns 
 till she comes.' Everybody in the room, who were 
 chiefly the guards' wives and daughters, seemed to 
 compassionate me exceedingly, and the sentinel 
 officiously opened the door. When I had seen her 
 out I returned back to my lord and finished dress- 
 ing him. 1 had taken care that Mrs. Mills did not 
 go out crying as she came in, that my lord might 
 the better pass for the lady who came in crying and 
 afflicted ; and the more so because he had the same 
 dress she wore. When I had almost finished 
 dressing my lord in all my petticoats excepting 
 one, I perceived that it was growing dark, and was 
 afraid that the light of the candles might betray us ; 
 so I resolved to set off. I went out, leading him 
 by the hand, and he held his handkerchief to his 
 eyes. I spoke to him in the most piteous and af. 
 flictcd tone of voice, bewailing bitterly the negli-
 
 EARL OF MTHSDALE. 215 
 
 gence of Evans, who had ruined me by her delay. 
 Then said I, 'My dear Mrs. Betty, for the love of 
 God run quickly and bring her with you. You 
 know my lodging, and, if ever you made despatch 
 in your life, do it at present. I am almost distract- 
 ed with this disappointment.' The guards opened 
 the doors, and 1 went down stairs with him, still 
 conjuring him to make all possible despatch. As 
 soon as he had cleared the door I made him walk 
 before me, for fear the sentinel should take notice 
 of his walk ; but I still continued to press him to 
 make all the despatch he possibly could. At the 
 bottom of the stairs I met my dear Evans, into 
 whose hands I confided him. I had before enga- 
 ged Mr. Mills to be in readiness before the Tower, 
 to conduct him to some place of safety in case he 
 succeeded. He looked upon the affair so very im- 
 probable to succeed, that his astonishment when he 
 saw us threw him into such consternation that he 
 was almost out of himself ; which Evans perceiv. 
 ing, with the greatest presence of mind, withou* 
 telling him anything lest he should mistrust them, 
 conducted him to some of her own friends on whom 
 she could rely, and so secured him, without which 
 we should have been undone. When she had con- 
 ducted him and left him with them, she returned to 
 find Mr. Mills, who by this time had recovered him- 
 self from his astonishment. They went home to- 
 gether, and, having found a place of security, they 
 conducted him to it. 
 
 " In the mean while, as I had pretended to have 
 sent the young lady on a message, I was obliged tc 
 return up stairs and go back to my lord's room, in 
 the same feigned anxiety of being too late, so that
 
 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 everybody seemed sincerely to sympathize with my 
 distress. When I was in the room, I talked to him 
 as if he had been really present, and answered my 
 own questions in my lord's voice, as nearly as I 
 could imitate it. I walked up and down as if we 
 were conversing together, till I thought they had 
 time enough thoroughly to clear themselves of the 
 guards. I then thought proper to make off also. I 
 opened the door and stood half in it, that those in 
 the outward chamber might hear what I said, but 
 held it so close that they could not look in. I bade 
 my lord a formal farewell for that night, and ad 
 ded, that something more than usual must have 
 happened to make Evans negligent on this impor- 
 tant occasion, who had always been so punctual in 
 the smallest trifles ; that I saw no other remedy 
 than to go in person ; that if the Tower were still 
 open when I finished my business, I would return 
 that night ; but that he might be assured that I 
 would be with him as early in the morning as I 
 could gain admittance to the Tower ; and I flatter- 
 ed myself I should bring favourable news. Then, 
 before I shut the door, I pulled through the string 
 of the latch, so that it could only be opened on the 
 inside. I then shut it with some degree of force, 
 that I might be sure of its being well shut. I said 
 to the servant as I passed by, who was ignorant of 
 the whole transaction, that he need not carry can- 
 dles in to his master till my lord sent for him, as 
 he desired to finish some prayers first. I went 
 down stairs, and called a coach, as there were ser. 
 eral on the stand. I drove home to my lodgings, 
 where poor Mr. Mackenzie had been waiting to 
 carry the p Jtition in case my attempt failed. I
 
 EARL OF NITHSDALE. 217 
 
 (old him there was no need of any petition, as my 
 lord was safe out of the Tower and out of the 
 hands of his enemies, but that I did not know where 
 he was. 
 
 " I discharged the coach and sent for a sedan- 
 chair, and went to the Duchess of Buccleugh, who 
 expected me about that time, as I had begged of 
 her to present the petition for me, having taken my 
 precautions against all events. I asked if she were 
 at home ; and they answered that she expected me, 
 and had another duchess with her. 1 refused to go- 
 up stairs, as she had company with her, and I was 
 not in a condition to see any other company. I beg. 
 ged to be shown into a chamber below stairs, and 
 that they would have the goodness to send her 
 grace's maid to me, having something to say to her. 
 I had discharged the chair, lest I might be pursued 
 and watched. When the maid came in, I desired 
 her to present my most humble respects to her 
 grace, who they told me had company with her, and 
 to acquaint her that this was my only reason for 
 not coming up stairs. I also charged her with my 
 sincerest thanks for her kind offer to accompany 
 me when I went to present my petition. I added, 
 that she might spare herself any farther trouble, as 
 it was now judged more advisable to present one 
 general petition in the name of all ; however, that 
 I should never be unmindful of my particular obli- 
 gations to her grace, which I would return very 
 soon to acknowledge in person. 
 
 " I then desired one of the servants to call a chair, 
 and I went to the Duchess of Montrose, who had 
 always borne a part in my distresses. When I 
 arrived, she left her comoany to deny herself, not
 
 2 IS PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 being able to see me under t he affliction which she 
 judged me to be in. By mistake, however, I was 
 admitted ; so there was no remedy. She came to 
 me ; and, as my heart was in an ecstasy of joy, 1 
 expressed it in my countenance as she entered the 
 room. I ran up to her in the transport of my joy. 
 She appeared to be exceedingly shocked and fright, 
 ed, and has since confessed to me that she appre- 
 hended my trouble had thrown me out of myself, 
 till I communicated my happiness to her. She 
 then advised me to retire to some place of security ; 
 for that the king was highly displeased, and even 
 enraged, at the petition I had presented to him, and 
 had complained of it severely. I sent for another 
 chair ; for I always discharged them immediately, 
 lest I might be pursued. Her grace said she would 
 go to court, to see how the news of my lord's escape 
 was received. When the news was brought to the 
 king, he flew into an excess of passion, and said he 
 was betrayed, for it could not have been done with- 
 out some confederacy. He instantly despatched 
 two persons to the Tower to see that the other 
 prisoners were secure, lest they should follow the 
 example. Some threw the blame upon one, some 
 upon another. The duchess was the only one at 
 court who knew it. 
 
 " When I left the duchess, T went to a house 
 which Evans had found out for me, and where she 
 promised to acquaint me where my lord was. She 
 got thither some few minutes after me, and told me 
 that, when she had seen him secure, she went in 
 search of Mr. Mills, who by this time had recover- 
 ed himself from his astonishment ; that he had re- 
 turned to her house, where she had found him ; and
 
 EARL OF NITI1MJALE. 219 
 
 .hat he had removed my lord from the first place 
 where she had desired him to wait, to the house of 
 a poor woman directly opposite to the guardhouse. 
 She had but one small room up one flight of stairs, 
 and a very small bed in it. We threw ourselves 
 upon the bed, that we might not be heard walking 
 up and down. She left us a bottle of wine and 
 some bread, and Mrs. Mills brought us some more 
 in her pocket the next day. We subsisted on this 
 provision from Thursday till Saturday night, when 
 Mrs. Mills came and conducted my lord to the Ve 
 netian ambassador's. We did not communicate the 
 affair to his excellency, but one of his servants con- 
 cealed him in his own room till Wednesday, on 
 which day the ambassador's coach and six was to 
 go down to Dover to meet his brother. My lord 
 put on a livery, and went down in the retinue, with- 
 out the least suspicion, to Dover, where Mr. Mitch. 
 ell (which was the name of the ambassador's ser- 
 vant) hired a small vessel, and immediately set sail 
 for Calais. The passage was so remarkably short, 
 that the captain threw out this reflection, that the 
 wind could not have served better if his passengers 
 had been flying for their lives, little thinking it to 
 be really the case." 
 
 The courage and conduct of this devotedly affec- 
 tionate wife had secured her husband's safety, but 
 had endangered her own. George the First had 
 none of those fine and chivalrous feelings which in- 
 duce their possessor to admire a noble action, even 
 though his own plans may have been frustrated by 
 it. He was already much irritated by her pertina- 
 cious attempt to force the petition upon him, and 
 this additional and still worse offence (for such he
 
 220 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 would undoubtedly deem it) could not fail to rouse 
 ihis utmost anger. She therefore deemed it pru- 
 dent to keep out of harm's way till the storm was 
 blown over, and she did not hesitate to dissimulate 
 a little in order to further her purpose. " For my 
 part," says she, " I absconded to the house of a very 
 honest man in Drury Lane, where I remained till I 
 was assured of my lord's safe arrival on the Conti- 
 nent. I then wrote to the Duchess of Buccleugh 
 (everybody thought till then that I was gone off with 
 my lord), to tell her that I understood I was suspect- 
 ed of having contrived my lord's escape, as was very 
 natural to suppose ; that, if I could have been happy 
 enough to have done it, I should be flattered to have 
 the merit of it attributed to me ; but that a bare sus- 
 picion, without proof, could never be a sufficient 
 ground for my being punished for a supposed of- 
 fence, though it might be motive enough to me to 
 provide a place of security ; so I entreated her to 
 procure leave for me to go with safety about my 
 business. So far from granting my request, they 
 were resolved to secure me if possible. After sev 
 eral debates, Mr. Solicitor-general (Mr. Fortescuo 
 Aland), who was an utter stranger to me, had the 
 humanity to say that, since I showed so much re. 
 spect to government as not to appear in public, it 
 would be cruel to make any search after me : 
 upon which it was decided that, if I remained con. 
 eealed, no farther search should be made ; but that, 
 if I appeared either in England or Scotland, I should 
 be secured." 
 
 This scanty portion of kindness was of no bene- 
 fit wha^ver to the countess. " It was not," sayt 
 he, " sufficient for me, unless I would submit to ex-
 
 EAUL, OF N1THSDALK. 221 
 
 pose my son to beggary." With her wonted spirit 
 she determined that, "having already risked her 
 life for the safety of the father, she would once more 
 hazard it for the fortune of the child." She had 
 been summoned in such haste from Scotland that 
 she had no time to make arrangements before she 
 net off for London. The family papers were then 
 in her hands, and there was no one in whose custo- 
 dy she could venture to trust them. Her avowal 
 that " God knows what might have transpired from 
 them if they had been found," sufficiently proves 
 that they did not consist merely of family parch- 
 ments and deeds. She had no doubt that the house 
 would be searched, and in fact it was so immedi- 
 ately after her departure. In this emergency she 
 had no other alternative than to conceal the docu- 
 ments under ground, with other things of value ; 
 the gardener being the only person who was in- 
 trusted with the secret of their hiding-place. 
 
 Though the papers were deposited beyond the 
 reach of Nithsdale's enemies, they were by no 
 means in safety. It was doubtful whether they 
 might not have been irreparably injured by the late 
 severe winter, and it was certain that they could 
 not long remain under ground without almost a 
 certainty of being destroyed. The countess there- 
 fore determined to brave every danger to save 
 (hem. In truth, the danger was not trifling ; for 
 her person was perfectly well known at all the 
 considerable inns upon the north road. Having 
 bought three saddle-horses for herself, her favour- 
 ite attendant Mrs. Evans, and a trusty servant, she 
 set out on her toilsome and perilous expedition. 
 The fatigue of traversing between three and four
 
 222 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 hundred miles of country, through the worst pos- 
 sible roads, must have been extreme to a delicate 
 female who was unused to riding ; for, except in 
 her recent journey to London, she had never trav- 
 elled on horseback. But her spirit rose above ob- 
 stacles which some would have recoiled from as 
 being insurmountable. To elude observation, she 
 put up at the most obscure and retired inns she 
 could find, where she had never been before ; and 
 this precaution was so effectual that she reached 
 Traquair, in Peebles-shire, without having been 
 recognised or molested. 
 
 At Traquair the countess ventured to rest her- 
 self for two days. The lord-lieutenant of the coun- 
 ty was a friend of the earl, and she was certain 
 that he would not allow any search to be made for 
 her till he had given her warning to abscond. She 
 then proceeded to her house, giving out, at the same 
 time, that she was doing so by permission of the 
 government. To keep up the deception of her con- 
 duct being authorized, she invited all her neighbours 
 to visit her. At night she disinterred the papers, 
 and sent them off to Traquair. Fortunately, they 
 had sustained no injury. She was, however, not a 
 moment too early, as her neighbours began to en 
 tertain suspicions with respect to her. Luckily, 
 she was made aware of these suspicions before any 
 steps had been taken to act upon them. " By a 
 very favourable accident," says she, "one of them 
 was overheard to say to the magistrates of Dum- 
 fries, that the next day they would insist upon see- 
 ing my leave from government. This was bruited 
 about ; and when I was told of it, I expressed my 
 surprise that they had been so backward in coming
 
 EARL OF MTHSDALH. 223 
 
 to pay their respects ; but, said I, better late than 
 never : be sure to tell them that they shall be wel- 
 come whenever they choose to come. This was 
 after dinner ; but I lost no time to put everything 
 in readiness, but with all possible secrecy ; and the 
 next morning before daybreak I set off again for 
 London with the same attendants, and, as before, 
 I put up at the smallest inns, and arrived safe once 
 more." 
 
 The disapprobation which was widely expressed 
 in regard to the king's want of feeling when he was 
 personally supplicated by Lady Nithsdale, had ex- 
 cited in his mind an inveterate antipathy against 
 her. This was manifested in various ways. When 
 he was petitioned for dower by the widows of the 
 peers who had been found guilty of treason, he 
 granted the request with only one exception : that, 
 exception was the Countess of Nithsdale, whom he 
 declared not to be entitled to the same privilege. 
 He is even said to have forbidden her name to be 
 uttered in his presence. Her visit to Scotland of 
 course increased his wrath. His intellect, at least 
 as far as relates to moral perceptions, must have 
 been of more than common obtuseness not to com- 
 j prehend that a woman in her situation deserved 
 praise for acts which in any other of his subjects 
 would doubtless have been criminal. Pardon he 
 might not, perhaps, have been able to grant to the 
 offending husband ; but to his sympathy the devo- 
 ted and despairing wife had an undeniable claim. 
 But, notwithstanding this, his rage appears to have 
 been absolutely furious. " A lady informed me," 
 says Lady Nithsdale, " that the king was extremely 
 incensed at the news ; that he had issued orders tc
 
 224 PERILOUS ADVEN TURKS. 
 
 have me arrested ; adding, that I did whatever I 
 pleased, in despite of all his designs ; and that I had 
 given him more trouble than any woman in all Eu- 
 rope ; for which reasons I kept myself as closely 
 concealed as possible till the heat of these rumours 
 had abated. In the mean while, I took the opinion 
 of a very famous lawyer, who was a man of the 
 strictest probity ; he advised me to go off as soon 
 as they had ceased searching for me. I followed 
 his advice ; and, about a fortnight after, I escaped 
 without any accident whatever." 
 
 The life which this admirable woman had braved 
 so much peril to preserve was protracted for a long 
 course of years. Lord Nithsdale died at Rome in 
 1744, fortunate in not living to lament that his na. 
 tive country was again deluged with the blood of 
 its brave but misguided inhabitants. The countess 
 died in 1749, in the same city; and if her feelings 
 were not blunted by age, her having survived at 
 once her husband and the hopes of the Stuart race 
 was doubtless a sore trial to her.
 
 STANISLAUS LECZINSKI. 386 
 
 PERILS OF STANISLAUS LECZINSKI, KING 
 OF POLAND. 
 
 FEW individuals have experienced more vicissi- 
 tudes or encountered more perils, and few, if any, 
 have borne them with more equanimity and forti- 
 tude, than Stanislaus the First, surnamed Leczinski, 
 who forms the subject of this narrative. His fam- 
 ily was originally Bohemian, and allied to the sov- 
 ereigns of Bohemia ; but the branch from which 
 he descended had been established in Poland du- 
 ring the reign of Mieceslas, before the close of the 
 tenth century. One of his ancestors was the found- 
 er of Leczno, and from that town the race derived 
 the name of Leczinski. 
 
 Stanislaus was born on the 20th of October, 
 1677, at Lemberg, then the capital of the Polish 
 district called Red Russia, as it now is of the Aus- 
 trian province of Gallicia. Raphael, his father, who 
 held several eminent offices, was an accomplish- 
 ed and high-minded man, who spared no pains in 
 the mental and corporeal training of his son. As 
 though the future hardships of the youthful Stan- 
 islaus had been foreseen, he waa taught to be pa- 
 tient of hunger and thirst, heat and cold. His 
 frame was invigorated by exercise, and a straw 
 mattress was his only couch. Equal care was 
 taken to cultivate his intellectual powers. By the 
 time that he was seventeen, he was thoroughly ac- 
 quainted with the Latin, French, and Italian lan- 
 2415
 
 226 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 guages ; wrote elegantly, both in prose and verse, 
 in his mother tongue; had studied eloquence in 
 the pages of the Greek and Roman orators, and 
 attained a considerable proficiency in mathematics 
 and mechanics. The whole was perfected by ex- 
 tensive travel through foreign lands. 
 
 Stanislaus was early initiated into public affairs ; 
 he filled several important charges ; and gained 
 universal applause by his virtues, talents, and man. 
 ners. The panegyrical language lavished on him 
 by Bishop Zalucki sounds like rhetorical exagger- 
 ation ; but the man whom a grave ecclesiastic could 
 describe as " the ornament of Poland" and " the 
 delight of the human race" must have possessed 
 qualities of no ordinary kind. 
 
 In 1704, Stanislaus was suddenly raised to a sta- 
 tion which his virtues and abilities qualified him to 
 fill with honour to himself and advantage to mill, 
 ions, but which adverse circumstances rendered 
 a fertile cause of calamity to himself and to his 
 country. For his unenviable preferment he was 
 indebted to the misconduct of Augustus II., the 
 reigning king of Poland. That prince, by his un- 
 constitutional proceedings, and by wantonly bring- 
 ing upon his kingdom the formidable enmity of 
 Charles XII., had rendered himself obnoxious to 
 a large majority of his subjects, who were in open 
 hostility against him. Charles had resolved to 
 dethrone him, and he was not a man to change his 
 purpose : his resolves were like the laws of the 
 Medes and Persians. It was originally his inten- 
 tion to transfer the sceptre to James Sobieski, el- 
 dest son of the great Sobieski ; but Augustus having 
 seized and imprisoned the prince and his brothei
 
 STANISLAUS LECZ1NSHI. 227 
 
 Constantino, and the other brother, Alexander, hav- 
 ing refused to accept the diadem to their prejudice, 
 the Swedish monarch was obliged to look else- 
 where for a substitute. While he was hesitating 
 as to his choice, Stanislaus, who was then palatine 
 of Posnania, was deputed to confer with him on the 
 part of the confederated Poles. In the interviews 
 which ensued, the palatine displayed such maturity 
 of talent, knowledge of state affairs, and captiva- 
 tion of manner, that Charles exclaimed to two of 
 his generals, " that is the man to be king." The 
 Polish diet accordingly elected Stanislaus, and his 
 title was recognised by several of the principal 
 European powers. Augustus, however, made vig- 
 orous efforts to recover the sovereignty ; but re* 
 peated defeats compelled him, in 1706, to sign the 
 treaty of Alt Ranstadt, by which he solemnly re- 
 nounced all his claims, and acknowledged his rival 
 as the legitimate possessor of the throne. Fo/ 
 two years after the conclusion of this treaty, Stan 
 islaus, incessantly harassed by domestic and for- 
 eign foes, continued to hold an imperfect and pre- 
 carious authority, lamenting every moment that 
 he was powerless to make his subjects prosperous 
 and happy. No monarch could ever say with 
 more reason, " uneasy lies the head that wears a 
 crown." 
 
 The terrible defeat at Pultowa reduced Stanis- 
 laus, as well as Charles, to the condition of a fugi- 
 tive. It was impossible for him to maintain him- 
 self on a throne which was now assailed in all di- 
 rections. Still a diet which he had convoked refu- 
 sed to accept his proffered resignation of the crown, 
 and loudly protested its readiness to stand by him 
 5
 
 228 PERILOUS ADVENTUUfcS. 
 
 But protestations of affection were all that he ob- 
 tained. In violation of his oath, the deposed Au- 
 gustus entered Poland with his Saxon army, and 
 was seconded by the victorious Muscovites, and a 
 number of malcontent Polish nobles. Convinced 
 that an attempt to keep his tooting in Poland could 
 only lead to fruitless bloodshed, Stanislaus retired 
 into Swedish Pomerania. There he exerted him- 
 self with equal ability and valour, but not. with the 
 success which he deserved, to preserve the German 
 dominions of his friend from being ravaged by the 
 Saxons, Muscovites, and Danes. Hence he passed 
 into Sweden, where he rendered many essential 
 services to its absent monarch. 
 
 Weary of a vain title, which was disastrous to 
 himself and to his fellow-creatures, Stanislaus was 
 eager to abdicate his crown. To this measure he 
 solicited the consent of the Swedish monarch ; but 
 the inflexible Charles refused to comply ; and, when 
 he was farther pressed on the subject, he angrily 
 said, ** If my friend does not choose to be king, I 
 can easily make another." In the hope that per- 
 sonal entreaty might prevail with Charles, Stanis- 
 laus resolved to visit Turkey. Late at night he 
 secretly quitted the Swedish army in Pomerania, 
 accompanied by Baron Sparre and another colonel. 
 He travelled under the name of Haran, a French 
 officer in the Swedish service. The journey was 
 a hazardous one, as he had to pass through a hos- 
 tile territory, and to coast, as it were, along the 
 enemy's line of posts. He was several times stop- 
 ped, but was released on producing his passport. 
 On reaching Jassy, the capital of Moldavia, he 
 thought himself secure, and here took leave of his
 
 STANISLAUS LEC/.INSKI. 229 
 
 companions. But circumstances were very differ- 
 ent in Turkey from what he had expected to find 
 them. Charles had irritated the Porte by his con 
 duct at Bender, and at this moment the Turks 
 were removing him as a prisoner to the neighbour- 
 hood of Adrianople. The hospodar of Moldavia 
 had learned the sudden disappearance of the King 
 of Poland from the Swedish army, and he suspect- 
 ed the traveller was that monarch. As soon as 
 Stanislaus was brought before him, he knew him 
 from the description which he had received. The 
 dialogue between them was carried on in Latin. 
 After having put several questions, the Moldavian 
 asked him what rank he held. " Major sum," re- 
 plied Stanislaus. " Imo maximus es," rejoined the 
 hospodar, who immediately paid him all the hon- 
 ours due to a crowned head, but detained him as a 
 prisoner. The king was then removed to Bender, 
 from which Charles had just departed. Captive as 
 Charles was, and with no apparent chance of re- 
 covering his ascendency, he was still unshaken. 
 He despatched Fabricius to his brother-captive to 
 desire that he would never make peace with Au- 
 gustus, and to assure him that, ere long, a benefi- 
 cial change would take place in the situation of 
 their affairs. 
 
 Treated with the utmost kindness and respect, 
 but still held in durance, Stanislaus remained at 
 Bender till Charles resolved to return to his own 
 dominions. Permission to depart was then grant- 
 ed to the Polish monarch. Charles would fain 
 have persuaded him to participate in his meditated 
 enterprises ; but Stanislaus firmly replied, " No ; 
 never will I draw my sword to gain for me the re-
 
 230 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 toration of a crown." " Well, then," said Jie 
 generous Swede, " I will draw it for you ; and, till 
 the time comes for our entering Warsaw in tri- 
 amph, I give you my principality of Deux-Ponts 
 and its revenues !" 
 
 It was late in May, 1714, that Stanislaus quitted 
 Bender. In disguise, and accompanied by Count 
 Poniatowski, he passed through Moldavia, Transyl- 
 vania, Hungary, and a considerable portion of 
 Southern Germany. He reached Deux-Ponts in 
 safety, and was put in possession of his royal 
 friend's gift, which secured to him a yearly revenue 
 of about seventy thousand crowns. 
 
 In this retreat Stanislaus enjoyed, for a while, a 
 degree of tranquillity to which he had during many 
 years been a stranger. He was now reunited to 
 his family, consisting of his mother, wife, and two 
 Daughters, from which he had long been separated. 
 Jut even to this asylum danger and misfortune 
 pursued him. The Polish crown, which had caused 
 him all his past troubles, was again, without any 
 fault of his own, a source of annoyance to him. 
 While he was living quietly at Deux-Ponts, a pro- 
 ject was formed in which he was intended to acl 
 a conspicuous part. A treaty was set on foot be- 
 tween Charles XII. and the Czar Peter, the execu- 
 tion of which would have spread the flames of war 
 over the Continent, and even into the British isl- 
 ands. The Czar, for the purpose of extending the 
 Muscovite influence in Europe, was willing perfid- 
 iously to join in deposing the monarch whom he 
 had himself forced upon the Poles, and replacing 
 Stanislaus upon the throne. To frustrate this plan, 
 Count Flemming, the minister of Frederic Augus.
 
 STANISLAUS LECZINSKI. 23 I 
 
 tus, thought no means so sure as to seize and carry 
 off the rival of his master. A band of French 
 desperadoes, to the number of thirty, headed by an 
 officer named Seissan, was employed to effect this 
 dastardly achievement. The ruffians proceeded to 
 Deux-Ponts, where their leader made the necessary 
 preparations ; relays of horses were provided, and 
 the men were stationed at their respective posts. 
 But, on the very eve of its being carried into exe- 
 cution, the plot was discovered. Many of the con- 
 spirators escaped ; but Captain Lecroix, a lieuten- 
 ant, and some others, were seized and brought be- 
 fore Stanislaus. Instead of ordering them to exe- 
 cution, as they probably expected and certainly 
 deserved, the clement monarch mildly said, " What 
 wrong did I ever do to you, my friends, that you 
 should seek my life? I might retaliate and take 
 away yours, but I pardon you ; live, and become 
 better men." Nor did his goodness stop here. 
 Learning that the individual who was their purse- 
 bearer had escaped and left them penniless, he 
 gave them a sum sufficient to support them on their 
 homeward journey. 
 
 The same year the persecuted monarch received 
 a much severer blow in the death of his eldest 
 daughter; and in the year following, his friend 
 Charles XII. was killed at the siege of Frederic- 
 shall. By the decease of the Swedish monarch the 
 duchy of Deux-Ponts devolved upon the Count 
 Palatine Gustavus. The count accordingly took 
 possession of his inheritance, and Stanislaus had 
 to seek a place of refuge elsewhere. Scarcely 
 knowing whither to turn his steps, he applied to 
 the regent Duke of Orleans, who gave him a pen-
 
 232 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 sion, and allowed him to choose one of the Alsatian 
 towns for a residence. In consequence of this per- 
 mission, Stanislaus settled at Weissembourg in 
 1720. Frederic Augustus had the meanness to 
 instruct his envoy to remonstrate against this in. 
 dulgcnce; but the regent nobly replied, "Let your 
 master know, sir, that France has always been the 
 asylum of unfortunate kings ; that she has taken 
 the King of Poland under her protection, and thai 
 she never withdraws her benefits." Diplomacy 
 having failed, recourse was had to a viler plan. 
 A scheme was formed to get rid of him by means 
 of poisoned snuff; but, happily, it was frustrated. 
 These relentless persecutions had, however, for a 
 time, the effect of imbittering his existence ano 
 injuring his health. 
 
 At the expiration of five years another change 
 in his fortunes took place. In 1725, his daughtei 
 Maria Leczinska was selected to be the bride ot 
 Louis XV. This amiable, virtuous, and accom 
 plished female deserved the throne to which she wat> 
 called, and a more worthy consort than the man to 
 whom she was united. She, like her father, expe- 
 rienced singular vicissitudes. In her infancy, when 
 her family was flying before the myrmidons of 
 Frederic Augustus and Peter, she was lost in a vil- 
 lage by her nurse, and was found again in the trough 
 of a stable ; she had been a wanderer, suffering 
 almost penury ; and at the age of twenty-two her 
 brow was encircled by the regal diadem. On the 
 marriage of his daughter Stanislaus quitted Alsace, 
 to inhabit the princely domain of Chambord, and 
 subsequently of Meudon. 
 
 Stanislaus seemed at last to be securely anchr*r-
 
 STANISLAUS LECZiNSKI. 233 
 
 d, as far as mortal could be, against the storms oi 
 adversity ; but he was nevertheless destined again 
 to endure them. He had spent eight years in calm 
 and dignified retirement, happy in his family, and 
 amusing himself with literature, when he was 
 thrown once more on the tumultuous ocean of pol- 
 itics. By the death of his successful rival, Fred- 
 eric Augustus II., the throne of Poland became va- 
 cant. The voice of the Poles called loudly for 
 their exiled king. He, however, was unfeignedly 
 reluctant to comply wilh their wishes ; he had no 
 ambition to reign, and especially in a country where 
 he knew that he would expose his subjects to num- 
 berless calamities. Nor, situated as Poland was, 
 could he hope for that degree of co-operation which 
 would give him a chance of retaining his crown. 
 " I know the Poles,** said he ; "I am sure that they 
 will elect me, but I am equally sure that they will 
 not support me." In an evil hour, the pressing so- 
 licitations of the French cabinet, and the promise of 
 efficient aid from France, induced him to come for- 
 ward on the scene. Yet to the last he foreboded 
 evil. When he was on the point of departing, he 
 said, " I feel that I shall soon be near my enemies 
 and far from rny friends." 
 
 It was a matter of difficulty for Stanislaus even 
 to reach Warsaw, where the election was to take 
 place. A Russian squadron precluded access on 
 the side of the Baltic, and the Emperor of Germany 
 had given strict orders to arrest him if he were 
 found within the Austrian dominions. Instead of 
 furnishing Stanislaus with a formidable fleet to an- 
 nihilate the Muscovite squadron, the French cabinet 
 descended to play off a despicable trick. It spread
 
 234 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 a report that Stanislaus was to command an arma- 
 ment destined for Dantzic, and it provided a coun. 
 terfeit of him to keep up the deception. The 
 Chevalier de Thiange, who bore some resemblance 
 to Stanislaus, was dressed up royally, and, screened 
 from detection by darkness, was embarked at Brest 
 with regal honours. While this pitiful farce was 
 being acted, the king, accompanied by the Chevalier 
 d'Andelot, both disguised as merchants, and trav- 
 elling in an old carriage, began his journey to Po- 
 land. Once only, at the gates of Berlin, did he run 
 any risk of being discovered. He reached Warsaw 
 on the 8th of September, 1733, three days before 
 the election was to take place. There certainly 
 was more of ingenuity than dignity in this French 
 contrivance for smuggling in a sovereign. 
 
 When the diet of election met, sixty thousand 
 voices hailed Stanislaus as king. But he had their 
 " most sweet voices," and little more. The Polish 
 army, during the reign of the late sovereign, had 
 been studiously reduced almost to a nullity ; and 
 when the nobles had given their votes to their illus- 
 trious fellow-countryman, they hastened to their 
 several districts, where the confederations which 
 they formed were rendered abortive by the want 
 of discipline, union, and systematic operations, no 
 less than by the host of enemies that were opposed 
 to them. Sixty thousand Muscovites, resolved on 
 the downfall of the new king, were already in the 
 heart of Poland before the diet was closed. A 
 Saxon army brought in Frederic Augustus, the eon 
 of the late monarch, the candidate whom Russia 
 favoured, and who was illegally elected by a fac- 
 tion, despicable in itself, but strong in its barbarous
 
 STANISLAUS LECZ1NSKT. 235 
 
 allies. Austria, too, held her armies in readiness 
 to take part in this unholy crusade against Polish 
 independence. It was thus she paid the debt of 
 gratitude which she owed for the deliverance of 
 Vienna. 
 
 Unable to cope in the field with such overwhelm, 
 ing forces, Stanislaus withdrew to Dantzic, where 
 he hoped to hold out till succours could arrive from 
 France, or his own party, perhaps, concentrate its 
 scattered elements, and acquire some consistence. 
 The city was strong, and the citizens, enthusiasti- 
 cally attached to the monarch, vowed to stand by 
 him to the last extremity. They nobly redeemed 
 their pledge. 
 
 The siege was not commenced by the Russians 
 till the latter end of February, 1734. Lasey, by 
 whom it was begun, was soon superseded by Mar- 
 shal Munich, who resolved to act more vigorously 
 than his predecessor. His success, however, was 
 not equal to his daring. In an assault on the vil- 
 lage of Ohra, which forms a kind of suburb on the 
 south side of Dantzic, he was repulsed, with the 
 loss of fifteen hundred slain, and a still larger num- 
 ber of wounded. Nor was he more fortunate in 
 various other attacks. 
 
 In the beginning of May, the Saxon army, under 
 the Duke of Saxe-Weissenfels, was despatched to 
 join him. Jealous of sharing with another the 
 glory of reducing Dantzic, Munich resolved to 
 carry immediately, at whatever cost, the highly- 
 important work called the Hagelsberg, the fall of 
 which, he had no doubt, would ensure that of the 
 city. At ten in the evening of the 9th of May, 
 six thousand Muscovites advanced to the ramparts ;
 
 236 PERILOUS ADVENTURLo. 
 
 re-enforcements were constantly sent to them, and 
 the contest was furiously kept up till the break of 
 day. But not an inch of ground could they gain , 
 and the dawn saw the shattered and baffled rem- 
 nant of the assailants retiring to their camp. Be. 
 tween four and five thousand Muscovites were 
 stretched lifeless on the field of slaughter, and the 
 wounded were so numerous that it was necessary 
 to distribute them among all the neighbouring 
 towns. This carnage gained for the spot where it 
 occurred the name of the Russian burying-ground. 
 It is an almost miraculous circumstance that the 
 loss sustained by the Dantzickers did not exceed 
 forty killed and twice as many wounded. 
 
 France had strenuously encouraged the citizens 
 to rally around Stanislaus, and had promised ready 
 and powerful aid ; but the meanness of her per- 
 formance contrasted curiously with the magnifi- 
 cence of her promises. At the moment when 
 Dantzic was beleaguered by fifty thousand Saxons 
 and Muscovites, she sent a paltry detachment of 
 fifteen hundred men to its succour. On the llth 
 of May, the French troops, led by Count de hi 
 Motte, were disembarked under Fort Weichsel- 
 munde, at the mouth of the Vistula. The govern- 
 or of the fort, however, refused to admit them, on 
 the plea that he was short of provisions, upon which 
 De la Motte re-embarked his men, and sailed back 
 to Copenhagen. The Count de Plelo, a man equal- 
 ly distinguished for valour and intellectual powers, 
 was then ambassador from France to Denmark. 
 Stung to the quick by the disgrace which he con- 
 ceived the retreat of De la Motte to have brought 
 upon his country, he determined at all hazards to
 
 STANISLAUS LECZ1NSKI. 237 
 
 wipe off the stain. Convinced that he should per* 
 ish in the attempt, he wrote to the minister for for 
 eiga affairs, expressing a hope that the royal kind, 
 ness would be extended to his wife and children. 
 With the addition of a hundred volunteers to the 
 original force, he effected a landing on the 27th of 
 May, and attacked the Russian intrenchments with 
 such impetuosity that he drove the enemy before 
 him in disorder. He had nearly reached the city 
 when he fell, pierced with many wounds. Borne 
 down by multitudes, his gallant band was compell- 
 ed to retire, but it succeeded in securing its retreat 
 under the cannon of Fort Weichselmunde. 
 
 The affairs of the Dantzickers now wore a 
 gloomy aspect. The city was suffering greatly 
 from the bombardment, provisions were becoming 
 scarce, a Russian fleet of seven-and.twenty sail 
 had anchored off the mouth of the Vistula, and the 
 besieging general, by dint of sacrificing men, had 
 carried several posts which were important in 
 maintaining the communication between the town 
 and the sea. Yet the citizens persisted in adhe- 
 ring to Stanislaus ; there was no talk of yielding. 
 While Fort Weichselmunde remained in their pow- 
 er, they could still expect to receive succours. Of 
 that resource, however, they were soon deprived. 
 The siege of Fort Weichselmunde was regularly 
 commenced on the 17th of June by the Duke of 
 Saxe.Weissenfels ; and, before any impression had 
 been made upon the works, the governor, either a 
 coward or a traitor, surrendered his important 
 charge. 
 
 As long as there existed the slightest prospect 
 that their resistance would be triumphant, Stanis.
 
 238 PC. KILO US ADVENTURES. 
 
 laus had deemed it a duty to stand by those who 
 had so nobly supported his cause, and to stimulate 
 their exertions to the utmost. But the shameful 
 surrender of the Fort of Weichselmunde had anni. 
 hilated all hope. He therefore felt that it would 
 be only cruelty to expose them to the blind rage of 
 the base and brutal hordes by which they were 
 besieged. He knew that his remaining in the city 
 would have no other effect than to expose his own life 
 without a chance of benefit, and to bring tenfold 
 peril upon the high-spirited Dantzickers, who were 
 willing to make every sacrifice for his sake. Such 
 being the case, he advised them to enter into a ca- 
 pitulation while there was yet time for claiming 
 tolerable conditions. The citizens heard with pro- 
 found grief the communication from him to this ef- 
 fect, which was made to the town-council by Prince 
 Czartoriski and Count Poniatowski. An affecting 
 incident occurred on this occasion, which proves 
 how much he was beloved. When the prince had 
 delivered the royal message, one of the deputies, 
 named Hinniber, approached him and said, " Are 
 you speaking seriously, sir ? Are these really the 
 sentiments of our sovereign ?" " They are," re- 
 plied Poniatowski ; " I have heard from his own 
 lips all that I have told you." " What ! is it the 
 king himself who exhorts us to submit to the yoke 
 of the victor 1" " It is indeed so," answered the 
 prince. " Gracious God !" exclaimed Hinniber, 
 M our king will quit us ! and what is to become of 
 him !" The words were scarcely out of his mouth 
 when he staggered, uttered a few indistinct sounds, 
 and fell dead at Poniatowski's feet. 
 
 The situation of Stanislaus was indeed fraught
 
 STANISLAUS LECZINSK,. 239 
 
 with peril. The Russians were eager to get him 
 into their hands ; in their imperious summonses to 
 the Dantzickers, his being delivered up had been 
 insisted upon as a first and indispensable condition. 
 If he fell into their power, there was little reason 
 to believe that his fate would be a mild one ; and 
 yet to effect his escape seemed almost impossible. 
 There was no egress by sea; every avenue by 
 land, too, was closely watched ; and on that side 
 the fugitive must make his way through a laby- 
 rinth of circumvallating lines, inundations, marshes, 
 and narrow and intricate passes. The latter, how- 
 ever, beset as it was with difficulties, was the only 
 resource. 
 
 Various plans for eluding his enemies were sug- 
 gested. Unappalled by the risk of being consigned 
 to Siberia, the Countess of Czapska, a Polish lady, 
 in this emergency courageously offered her servi- 
 ces. She proposed to disguise herself and the 
 king in the garb of peasants, and to pass him off 
 as her husband ; and she had secured the assist- 
 ance of a trusty person who was thoroughly ac- 
 quainted with the surrounding country. The dan- 
 ger to which she would be exposed probably pre- 
 vented this scheme from being adopted by the 
 monarch. 
 
 Another project, more consonant to the chival 
 rous spirit of Stanislaus, we may suppose to have 
 been conceived by some gallant soldier. It was, 
 that the king should put himself at the head of a 
 hundred men, and break through the besieging ar- 
 my. There was no lack of men willing to peril 
 their lives in this adventure ; but the scheme was 
 more daring than feasible. In one quarter the in
 
 240 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 undation extended to a distance of three leagues, 
 and in the other every outlet was closed by the 
 lines of circumvallation, which it was not practi- 
 cable to traverse on horseback. Such a sally 
 would have been of sufficient magnitude to rouse 
 against it a considerable Russian force, and too 
 weak to obtain even the momentary success which 
 might have made an opening for the royal leader's 
 escape. The idea of it was consequently aban- 
 doned. 
 
 A plan for leaving Dantzic in the disguise of a 
 peasant, which was formed by the Marquis de Mon- 
 ti, the French ambassador, was at length acceded 
 to by Stanislaus. To carry it into execution, he 
 removed to the house of the ambassador, under 
 pretext of wishing to pass a quiet night, the bom. 
 bardment having recommenced on that part of the 
 town where he resided. The greatest part of his 
 rustic dress had already been provided. A worn- 
 out suit of clothes, a hat no better, a coarse shirt, 
 and a rough black-thorn cudgel, with a leather 
 thong through it, were easily procured. But there 
 was one thing, absolutely necessary, which the 
 marquis was puzzled how to obtain. This was a 
 pair of boots ; an article always worn by the peas- 
 ants in that neighbourhood. New boots were to 
 be had in plenty ; but it would have been impru- 
 dent to use such, as the doing so might in more 
 ways than one lead to a discovery. After having 
 for two days keenly scrutinized the leg-coverings 
 of the officers who visited him, the marquis thought 
 he saw a pair of boots large enough for the king, 
 and old enough to match with the rest of the equip, 
 ment. As his asking for them might awaken sus-
 
 STANISLAUS LECZINSKI. 241 
 
 picion in the owner, and thus endanger the secret, 
 he contrived to have them stolen. It was not till 
 within half an hour of the time fixed on for the de- 
 parture of the royal fugitive that the boots were 
 brought ; and, when they came to be tried on, it 
 iras found that the robbery had been committed in 
 rain, as they were far too small. The ambassa- 
 dor was exceedingly embarrassed, till, by great 
 good luck, a pair of boots which seemed made for 
 the purpose was furnished by one of his servants. 
 *' This fortunate circumstance," says Stanislaus, 
 * revived his spirits ; and I jokingly reproached 
 him with having so long meditated a sort of crime, 
 to get from a distance what he might without dif- 
 ficulty have obtained at home." 
 
 It was at ten o'clock on the night of the 27th of 
 June that the king took leave of the French am- 
 bassador. The marquis had been so deeply af. 
 fected on their separating, that the kind-hearted 
 monarch could not refrain from turning back be. 
 fore he left the house in order to cheer him by a 
 sally of pleasantry, which was meant to show that 
 his own spirits were unbroken. He ended serious- 
 ly by saying, " I returned to embrace you once 
 more, and to beg that you will resign yourself, as 
 I do, to Providence, to which I entirely commit my 
 fate." He then departed. 
 
 At a short distance from the ambassador's man- 
 sion, Stanislaus was joined by General Steinflicht, 
 also disguised as a peasant, who was to be one of 
 the companions of his flight. A major was in 
 waiting to conduct them to a part of the rampart, 
 at the foot of which were two small skiffs, contain- 
 ing three men who were to serve as guides. Af- 
 
 24-16
 
 242 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 ter they had crossed the moat, the major went lor 
 ward to clear the way for them through an out 
 post, in which were a few soldiers commanded by 
 a sergeant. The sergeant, however, ignorant of 
 the king's intention, refused to permit them to go 
 on, and even levelled his musket at the major, who 
 was so irritated that he more than once grasped 
 his pistol, and was on the point of shooting him. 
 But, reflecting that the soldiers would certainly re- 
 venge the death of their officer, and that a struggle 
 would frustrate the scheme and endanger the 
 monarch, he reluctantly resolved to confide his 
 secret to the sergeant. On the king making him- 
 self known, he was treated with great respect, 
 and allowed to proceed. This untoward circum- 
 stance he could scarcely help looking upon as an 
 unfavourable omen, for it was not unreasonable to 
 entertain doubts as to the safe keeping of the se- 
 cret with which the sergeant had been intrusted. 
 
 On parting from the major, the king again em- 
 barked in a little boat with his guides, hoping that 
 before break of day he should be able to cross the 
 Vistula and get beyond the Russian line of posts. 
 To his extreme surprise and vexation, however, 
 they had not gone more than half a mile before 
 they stopped at a wretched hut, in the midst of 
 swamp, where he was told he must remain for thai, 
 night and the whole of the next day. He repre- 
 sented to them the danger of halting almost under 
 the eyes of his enemies, who must soon be aware 
 of his flight, and would make strict search for him. 
 They were, however, obstinately deaf to his argu- 
 ments, and, as it would have been impolitic to ex- 
 asperate them, he was under the necessity of yield.
 
 STANISLAUS LECZINSKI. 243 
 
 <ng. The hut consisted of only a single room, in 
 which there was not a spot where he could repose ; 
 6ut this was of little consequence, for, in his situa- 
 tion, he '*ad not the will, nor, indeed, the power to 
 sleep. 
 
 To while away the time, Stanislaus studied the 
 character of his companions, and the result was 
 by no means calculated to inspire him with confi- 
 dence. The leader was a self-sufficient, petulant 
 blunderer and braggadocio, profoundly ignorant, 
 yet resenting as a sort of rebellion any dissent 
 from his opinions or orders. Lured by the offer 
 of a large reward, he had described himself to the 
 Marquis de Monti as being thoroughly acquainted 
 with the environs of Dantzic, though, in fact, he 
 knew nothing whatever of the Russian posts. The 
 two men who were subordinate to this delectable 
 guide were a sort of freebooters, known in Ger- 
 many by the name of Schnapans ; and their coarse 
 and ferocious manners, in unison with their calling, 
 could excite only disgust and apprehension. They 
 had, however, a much better knowledge of the 
 country than was possessed by their superior. 
 There was a fourth in company, a man whom they 
 had taken in near the rampart, and whom the mon- 
 arch had not expected, he having been told that he 
 was to have but three guides. When this person- 
 age was questioned by Stanislaus, he did not con- 
 ceal that he knew him, and candidly confessed, 
 also, that he was a bankrupt shopkeeper of Dant. 
 zic who was flying from his creditors. This was 
 alarming intelligence to the monarch, his secret 
 being at the mercy of a ruined and, perhaps, dis- 
 honest man, who might at once acquire a splendid
 
 244 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 fortune by betraying it. But, though hit fear* 
 were justifiable, they were groundless ; the unfor- 
 tunate debtor himself ultimately proved to be inca- 
 pable of such an act of baseness. 
 
 In the morning the king went to the door of the 
 hut to breathe the fresh air. The sight which met 
 his eyes filled his heart with grief. Before him 
 was the faithful Dantzic, its ramparts tottering, 
 and its houses blazing, from the constant cannonade 
 and bombardment kept up by the Russian batteries. 
 '* This, then," said he to himself, " is the recom- 
 pense of its fidelity ! Perhaps even this very day 
 it may be given into the hands of my enemies, and 
 be doomed to ransom itself from misfortunes which 
 it can no longer endure, by new misfortunes which 
 will complete its ruin." He had scarcely re-enter- 
 ed the hut when a fresh wound was indicted on his 
 feelings. A salvo was fired from all the batteries 
 of the camp, and from the blockading squadron, and 
 this convinced him that the city had been entered 
 by the Russians. This, however, was not yet the 
 case. In Dantzic great consternation was ex. 
 cited by the firing : the Marquis de Monti supposed 
 it to indicate that the king had been captured, while 
 the citizens declared that it was the signal for a 
 general assault. It was at length found to be onl) 
 a mark of rejoicing, ordered by Marshal Munich. 
 the Russian leader, on his receiving envoys from 
 the citizens, with an offer to recognise the Elector 
 of Saxony as sovereign of Poland. 
 
 The danger of Stanislaus was now much in- 
 creased. He had at the outset calculated that, if 
 not stopped, he should by this time be in safety on 
 the Russia? territory. Instead of this, he was still
 
 STANISLAUS LECZINSKI. 246 
 
 eose to the city, and had every reason to believe 
 that his adversaries must be aware of his flight, 
 and that, of course, they would redouble their effort* 
 to arrest him. At this painful moment there oc- 
 curred a fresh cause for alarm. A Schnapan came 
 to the hut in his boat, bringing to General Stein- 
 flicht a present of two dried tongues, and a polite 
 note wishing the travellers a prosperous journey. 
 The note was anonymous, and no persuasion could 
 induce the Schnapan to reveal who had sent it, or 
 how he had contrived to discover their retreaU 
 That they should dread lest he might disclose his 
 interview with them was not unnatural. 
 
 After having spent in the hut a day which sus- 
 pense and anxiety seemed to make endless, the 
 monarch rejoiced when darkness allowed him to 
 resume his journey. Their progress now became 
 much more difficult and hazardous. The boat had 
 to be forced through a forest of stiff rushes, which 
 made such a rustling that the sound could be heard 
 to a considerable distance. It was to be feared, 
 also, that the reeds, which were broken or bent 
 down, would next morning betray the course which 
 the fugitives had taken. Nor were the reeds their 
 nly annoyance. In many places the shallowness 
 of the water would not allow them to move on, and 
 they had to get out into the mud, and by main 
 strength remove the skiff to a spot where there was 
 t ufficient depth for it to float. 
 
 About midnight they reached the bank of a river 
 which the king supposed to be the Vistula, but 
 which proved to be one of its tributaries. His 
 guides here held a conference, in which they re- 
 solved that their leader, the shopkeeper, and Gen-
 
 246 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 eral Steinfiicht, should tiavei along the tauseway 
 on the bank, to seek a road by land, while the king 
 and the two Schnapans should proceed in a paral- 
 lel line in the boat, through the marsh. It was 
 with great reluctance that the king separated from 
 the general, and he saw him no more during the 
 journey, for in the darkness the two parties lost 
 sight of each other, and took different directions. 
 
 It must be kept in mind that it was now the 
 middle of summer, and that, consequently, there 
 was little more than four hours of night in which 
 Stanislaus could venture to continue his course. 
 Again, therefore, his conductors were obliged to 
 look out for a hiding-place, and one was found in 
 the neighbouring cabin of a man with whom they 
 were acquainted. They were told, indeed, that 
 the Russians often came there in the daytime ; but, 
 as there was no other refuge at hand, the danger 
 must of necessity be encountered. The king was 
 hurried up into a kind of loft by his guides, who 
 left him to rest himself on a bundle of straw, while 
 they went to keep watch, and likewise to try if they 
 could discover the general and their companions. 
 
 For two nights Stanislaus had had no rest, yet 
 he now tried in vain to sleep. His boots were full 
 of mud and water, and his mind was disturbed by 
 the loss of his friend, the suspicions he felt with 
 respect to his conductors, and the probability that 
 the Russians would arrive. " I got up," says he* 
 " and, on looking out at the loophole in the loft, I 
 saw a Russian officer gravely pacing about the 
 meadow, and two soldiers who were pasturing 
 their horses there. The sight took away my 
 breath. The thoughtful air of the man, who
 
 STANISLAUS LECZINSKI. 247 
 
 eetned to be scheming something; the horses, 
 which he repeatedly approached, as though he were 
 impatient to make use of them ; those armed sol- 
 diers, and their appearance in a spot which was 
 remote from their camp, all made me fear that I 
 had fallen into the snare which I had taken so 
 much pains to avoid. There is something more- 
 valuable than courage, and I was then near losing 
 it; I mean the hope which supports courage, and 
 which frequently inspires it. My alarm was great- 
 ly increased when, about one hundred paces far- 
 ther on, I saw several Cossacks galloping at full 
 speed along the fields. They were approaching 
 the wretched shelter in which I had hoped to find 
 more security than anywhere else. This unex- 
 pected sight made me draw back from the win- 
 dow. I threw myself on my bundle of straw, and 
 could think of nothing but how to escape, if that 
 were possible, from the troop which surrounded 
 me. I fully expected to see the house instantly 
 invested. They did more; for, without wasting 
 time in a blockade, they at once made themselves 
 masters of it, and I almost directly heard footsteps 
 ascending to my retreat." 
 
 The fears of Stanislaus, however, were not re- 
 alized. When the door was opened, it was not 
 the Russians who entered, but his hostess. The 
 Schnapans were just returned from their search, 
 and had sent her to desire that he would make no 
 noise. The Russians had only halted to breakfast, 
 and at the expiration of two hours they took their 
 departure. While they remained the king could 
 hear all their conversation, which was of the most 
 brutal and disgusting kind ; they were wretches
 
 248 PKRILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 dead to virtue and shame, who vied with each oth- 
 er in boasting of deeds which disgraced human 
 nature. 
 
 No sooner were they out of sight than his host- 
 ess revisited him : she was burning with curios- 
 ity to learn the mystery of her concealed guest. 
 " Well ! they are gone at last," she exclaimed ; 
 " but tell me why you are thus obliged to keep out 
 of their way. Why did you not come to drink 
 and amuse yourself with your comrades? Who 
 are you, in short, and where do you come from ? 
 You certainly do not belong to this country; I 
 know that by your language ; and, besides, your 
 countenance bespeaks in you something which con- 
 tradicts your dress. Speak : explain yourself: I 
 will not betray you, and, really, from your manner, 
 which affects me extremely, I feel inclined to do 
 you service." This was fair speaking, and might 
 be sincere ; but her imprudence might be as fatal 
 to him as perfidy, and Stanislaus could not venture 
 to trust to her. Failing to obtain the desired in- 
 formation, she began to form guesses, none of 
 which came nigh the truth. He, however, allowed 
 her to suppose that she had partly fathomed his 
 secret. Here her thoughts took another turn : cu- 
 riosity was succeeded by fear. "But," said she, 
 " if you are on such bad terms with the Muscovites, 
 I must beg you to go away. If they were to dis- 
 cover you here, I should be ruined ; perhaps they 
 would even burn my house." She was so possess- 
 ed with this idea, that it was with no small difficuU 
 ty he quieted her, and avoided being turned out of 
 doors. 
 
 During the day Stanislaus continued stretched
 
 STANISLAUS LECZ1NSKJ. 249 
 
 on his bundle of straw, a prey to his own torment, 
 ing reflections. The very inaction to which he 
 was reduced was itself an additional and heavy 
 evil. " Towards night," he says, " quite weary of 
 my situation, I went down to make inquiries of my 
 conductors. They said they knew that General 
 Steinflicht was not more than a quarter of a league 
 off, and that he intended to join us at night on the 
 bank of the Vistula, where a boat was waiting to 
 take us over ; but they were doubtful whether, with 
 so violent a wind as was then blowing, the passage 
 could be effected, and particularly in a boat so 
 small, and in such bad condition, as that which 
 they had procured. 'Let us make the attempt, 
 nevertheless,' said I, ' for I can imagine no greater 
 danger than staying longer where we are.' It 
 would not have become me to persist in distrusting 
 these men, who, having eaten and drunk with my 
 enemies, had preferred my safety to their own in- 
 terests, and who, amid the fumes of tobacco, and 
 drinking a kind of beer well calculated to confuse 
 their senses, had still had courage and honour 
 enough to preserve the fidelity which they had 
 promised me. They also adopted with a good will 
 the proposition I made to them. Accordingly, at 
 nightfall we re-entered the boat, which, however, 
 we quitted at the distance of a quarter of a league, 
 where the inundation terminated. For some hours 
 we travelled on foot, almost continually over soft 
 and muddy ground, into which we sank up to our 
 knees, and were every moment obliged to give 
 help to each other. Very often our efforts only 
 served to plunge us still deeper into this miry soil, 
 and to increase the danger of never getting out of it.
 
 260 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 "At last we reached the bank of the Vistola, 
 and one of the Schnapans begged me to wait a 
 moment with his comrade, while he went to see 
 whether the boat was at the place appointed. Af- 
 ter having kept us in suspense for a full hour, he 
 came back with news that the boat was no longer 
 there, and that probably it had been carried off by 
 the Russians. There was nothing left for us but 
 to re-enter the marsh which we had so recently 
 quitted. We took another route, and after a walk of 
 a league by a road as bad as that which we before 
 had traversed, we selected as our asylum a house 
 in which I was instantly recognised. * Who do I 
 see !' exclaimed the host, as soon as he looked 
 upon me. ' Why, you see one of my comrades.' 
 replied my conductors ; ' what is there so wonder- 
 ful in his appearance ?' * Oh no ! ' rejoined the 
 man, 'I am not mistaken; it is King Stanislaus.' 
 Yes, my friend,' said I to him, in a firm and confi- 
 dent tone, ' I am he ; but your countenance tells 
 me that you are too worthy a man to refuse me 
 the succour which I want in my present situation.' " 
 
 The king was not mistaken in the judgment 
 which he had formed of the person whom he thus 
 addressed. The man was a frank, honourable, 
 warm-hearted being, who probably would have 
 been angered by an attempt to deceive him, but 
 who was won by the generous reliance which was 
 reposed on his integrity. Ho promised to procure 
 a boat to carry the monarch across the Vistula, 
 and he kept his word. He immediately set out to 
 search for one, and also to examine on what part of 
 the bank their embarcation would be leasf exposed 
 to danger.
 
 STANISLAUS LECZINSKI. 251 
 
 While -by looking out of the window the king 
 was ineffectually trying to divert his mind from 
 melancholy thoughts, he perceived the chief of the 
 conductors approaching the house. The first ques- 
 tion put by him was with respect to General Stein- 
 flicht. " We were at the place of rendezvous on 
 the bank of the Vistula last night," replied the 
 peasant, "and were impatiently expecting you, 
 when we saw a troop of Cossacks coming towards 
 us. As we were not strong enough to make head 
 against them, and there was no spot where we 
 could hide ourselves, I took to my heels, and no 
 doubt the same step was taken by the shopkeeper 
 and the general." These tidings, which rendered 
 it probable that Steinflicht was a prisoner, gave 
 much vexation to Stanislaus. 
 
 In a few hours the host returned. His intelli- 
 gence was discouraging. He had indeed found a 
 boat, but it belonged to a fisherman in whose house 
 two Russians were at present lodging. He there- 
 fore recommended that the attempt to pass should 
 not be hazarded immediately. Besides, there was 
 another reason which was still stronger for delay. 
 Swarms of Cossacks were spread about the envi- 
 rons ; some watching the horses which were pas- 
 tured in the fields, and others scouring the country, 
 with orders to track the monarch, and to seize him 
 wherever he might be found. The latter were so 
 eager in the pursuit that they stopped all passen- 
 gers indiscriminately, searched and questioned 
 them, and insisted on passports being produced, or 
 some person in the neighbourhood coming forward 
 to vouch for the individual thus detained. Every 
 man who in size, stature, or age bore the slightest
 
 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 resemblance to Stanislaus, whatever might be hit 
 dress or condition, was still more strictly examined. 
 This being the case, it was decided that the fugitive 
 should remain closely concealed in his host's house 
 for that night and the following day. 
 
 " On the next day, Thursday, July the 1st," says 
 the king, " I assembled my people to take their 
 opinion on the important affair of the passage, 
 which lay so near my heart. We examined all the 
 spots where it might be attempted with a chance 
 of safety. The advice of my conductors was more 
 or less bold, their views were more or less rational, 
 according as a brandy. bottle, which stood in the 
 midst of them, was more or less full : it was the 
 bottle which presided, and regulated their delibera- 
 tions. At first nothing but timid opinions were to 
 be heard. No possible means were to be found of 
 crossing the river ; the hope of the great reward 
 which had been promised them vanished from their 
 sight, and, instead of it, they could see nothing but 
 prisons, tortures, and gibbets. A fresh supply of 
 liquor insensibly raised their sunken courage, and 
 I could see the moment at hand when they would 
 brave the whole Russian camp, and fearlessly lead 
 me through the fire of a thousand batteries. I 
 kept things in a proper medium by the care which 
 I took to hold possession of the bottle, and to pro. 
 portion to each the dose of courage which he re- 
 quired." 
 
 While this burlesque sort of council waa sitting, 
 the host was more usefully employed in reconnoi- 
 tring. He returned about six o'clock, and brought 
 the joyful news that the Cossacks had withdrawn 
 from the neighbourhood, that the passage wan
 
 STANISLAUS LECZ1XSKI. 253 
 
 free, and that a boat was ready on the bank of 
 the river, at about the distance of a league. As 
 soon as it was dark the whole party set forward. 
 Stanislaus and his host were on horseback ; the 
 three peasants brought up the rear on foot. They 
 had to traverse several swampy places, in which 
 the king's horse, a broken-down animal, stumbled 
 at every step. On all sides they could see the fires 
 of the enemy's flying camps ; these lighted them 
 on their way, and served as beacons to warn them 
 of danger. They had advanced half a league, when 
 the host, who led the van, rode back to desire that 
 they would halt while he examined a suspicious 
 spot. He returned in haste, with the disagreeable 
 tidings that it was occupied by a new troop of Cos- 
 sacks, from whom he had escaped only by telling 
 them that he had been with provisions to their army, 
 and was now seeking some of his cattle which had 
 strayed from the field where he had pastured them. 
 The spurious courage which the three guides 
 had imbibed from the brandy-bottle had by this 
 time evaporated. On hearing what was said, they 
 consulted together, and declared that they would 
 instantly go back. Stanislaus, however, resolutely 
 opposed them. But it was to no purpose that he 
 advised them either to force their way if the Cos- 
 sacks were few in number, or to resort to the strat- 
 agem which had availed the host. Fear had com- 
 pletely unmanned them. The indefatigable host 
 now went again to see whether some by-path could 
 not be discovered, and they, meanwhile, lay grovel, 
 ling on the ground. "But their chief, the man," 
 says Stanislaus, " who had recently appeared so 
 bold, started up a moment after and incited his
 
 254 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 comrades to fly with him. ' What, you cowards !* 
 exclaimed I, ' do you mean to desert me V ' Good 
 God !' said they all at once, and as if they spoke 
 in concert, ' do you wish us to get hanged, to se- 
 cure for yourself an escape which does not depend 
 upon us V ' Hanged or not,' replied I, in a pre- 
 tended passion, ' it is too late for you to deliberate ; 
 you have engaged to attend me, and you shall not 
 leave me till I think I can do without your rascally 
 company. Now hearken to me, and tremble at the 
 resolution which you force me to take. If neither 
 your promises, nor your oaths, nor the reward 
 which you expect, nor the respect which you owe 
 me, nor anything else can stop you, I will this very 
 moment call the Cossacks here ; for, if I must per- 
 ish by your flight, I would as lief perish by my 
 own indiscretion, and, at the same time, revenge 
 myself for your treachery.' This threat had the 
 desired effect ; the poltroons remained where they 
 were." 
 
 The host was soon back again, and he was the 
 bearer of welcome news ; the Cossacks were gone. 
 The three prostrate cowards instantly jumped up ; 
 and, with an effrontery that was laughable, their 
 leader began to protest that they had never meant 
 to abscond, and he talked largely about their tried 
 fidelity. A contemptuous glance from the mon- 
 arch, and a few emphatic words, reduced him to si- 
 lence. The march was now recommenced ; and 
 the three peasants gave proof of their zeal by fol- 
 lowing at such a distance that it was manifest they 
 intended to run away at the earliest appearance of 
 danger. Stanislaus and his host now quitted their 
 horses, and proceeded some distance on foot, till
 
 STANISLAUS LECZINSKI. 255 
 
 ihey came to the river's bank. The latter went 
 to fetch a boat, and the king, meanwhile, was obli- 
 ged to keep himself out of sight by crouching 
 among the bushes. The three loiterers were the 
 first to hear the dash of oars, and they quickened 
 their pace that they might not be left behind. The 
 whole party embarked, and the long-desired pas- 
 sage of the Vistula was at length accomplished in 
 safety. 
 
 " We were about to land, when, taking my host 
 aside, and with the warmest affection thanking him 
 for all that he had done for me, I put into his hand, 
 from my pocket, as many ducats as I could grasp. 
 This was an excellent opportunity to relieve my. 
 self from a weight of money which was perpetually 
 troublesome to me. Besides, I thought myself less 
 conferring a favour than discharging a debt. The 
 honest peasant, surprised and almost ashamed, 
 drew back, and tried to get away from me. ' No ! 
 no !' said I, ' it is of no use ; you shall receive this 
 present. Your doinir so will confer a new obliga- 
 tion on me, and I shut I even consider it as one of 
 the greatest proofs of your regard for me.' As I 
 continued to press him still more closely, and he 
 redoubled his efforts to escape from my gratitude, 
 the others imagined that I was quarrelling with 
 him, and they came forward to appease me. See- 
 ing this, he hastily said that, if he must accept 
 something from me, he would take two ducats as a 
 keepsake, in remembrance of the happiness he had 
 enjoyed in knowing me. I was so much the more 
 charmed by this noble disinterestedness, as I had 
 no reason to expect it from a man in his class of 
 life. He took two ducats from my hand in a man-
 
 256 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 ner and with feelings that I cannot describe ; and 
 thanked me as heartily as I could have thanked him 
 had he accepted not merely the scanty present 
 which I originally offered, but the far larger reward 
 which I would gladly have paid for his services." 
 Though the king had succeeded in crossing the 
 Vistula, he was not yet in safety. His situation 
 was like that of a shipwrecked mariner, who, hav- 
 ing reached the strand, fears that the receding 
 wave may carry him back into the deep. At a 
 large village a few hundred paces from the river, 
 he learned that there were Russian outposts not far 
 off, and that the Cossacks were in the habit of 
 plundering in the vicinity. Wishing to get speed- 
 ily at a distance from such unpleasant neighbours, 
 he tried to procure horses, but failed in the attempt. 
 When he came to look for the guides, he found that 
 they had thrown themselves upon a bed at the pub- 
 lie house, and were fast asleep. For a while he 
 Kept watch round the house ; but, dreading the 
 consequences of farther delay, he at length awoke 
 one of them, and prevailed on him to go in search 
 of a conveyance. The messenger was ordered to 
 bring one, whatever might be the kind or the price. 
 It was fortunate that the monarch had the means 
 of payment. In the course of the journey he had 
 been very near depriving himself of them. The 
 money, two hundred ducats, was given to him by 
 the Marquis de Monti. Being unused to carry such 
 a sum, he in a few hours found it so troublesome 
 an encumbrance that he solicited General Stein flic hi 
 to take charge of it. Steinflicht, however, prevail, 
 ed on him to keep one half, in order to be prepa- 
 red against any accident ; and, had this not been tlv
 
 STANISLAUS LECZINSKI. 257 
 
 case, Stanislaus, bereft of resources, would proba- 
 bly have been unable to escape. 
 
 After a lapse of two hours the trusty messenger 
 returned, so intoxicated that he had scarcely pow- 
 er to stand. His mission, however, had not been 
 a fruitless one ; for he brought with him a man 
 who was willing to let them have the use of a 
 vehicle, laden with various articles, on condition 
 that their value should be deposited with some one 
 in the village, as they might perhaps be lost by 
 falling into the clutches of the Cossacks. To short- 
 en the business, Stanislaus at once, without hag. 
 gling as to the terms, purchased the whole for five- 
 and-twenty ducats. 
 
 The sight of so much money seems to have 
 roused into violent action the inebriate's love of 
 gold. In an insolent tone and a hiccoughing voice r 
 he began to descant on his valuable exertions, his 
 courage, his fidelity, and the risks he had run ; and 
 he declared that he would not submit to be duped, 
 but would have on the spot what payment he was 
 to receive for all the sacrifices that he had made. 
 The possession of so large a sum of money by 
 one apparently so poor as Stanislaus, his careless 
 expenditure of it, and his having three men at his 
 command, had already excited the surmises and 
 suspicions of the villagers, and the language used 
 by the drunken man increased them. Some of 
 the by-standers seemed disposed to take the part of 
 the latter, and the monarch began to fear that 
 the whole of his secret would be divulged. He 
 also expected every moment to see the chief of 
 the guides turn against him. Never did he con- 
 idrr himself in greater danger than now. In thi* 
 2417
 
 258 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 emergency, however, the conductor rendered him 
 an essential service. That important individual, 
 who had a strong propensity to domineer, did not, 
 perhaps, like to see his privilege infringed upon 
 by a follower. He addressed the offender in very 
 uncourteous terms. " Hold your tongue, you black- 
 guard," he exclaimed ; " what reason have you to 
 complain ? Have not we shared in all your troub- 
 les and dangers, and do you see us setting up such 
 pretensions as yours?" Then turning to the 
 crowd, he said, "You must not mind what this 
 fellow says. When he has had a glass too much 
 he always thinks himself in the company of kings 
 and princes. If you listen to him, he will soon 
 convert me into some great personage ; though he 
 will not pay me a grain more respect than if he 
 thought me, what I really am, a poor unfortunate 
 fellow like himself." This adroit speech was de- 
 cisive. The majority of the crowd began to hoot 
 the staggering Schnapan ; and, though some of 
 the persons present were evidently of opinion that 
 Stanislaus was other than he seemed, no one at- 
 tempted to molest him. 
 
 As it was impossible to say, however, what 
 change might take place in the feelings of the vil- 
 lagers, the king lost no time in pursuing his jour- 
 ney. The drunken Schnapan was packed into the 
 vehicle, the other was dismissed to inform the Mar- 
 quis de Monti that the passage of the Vistula had 
 been effected, and the pragmatical conductor took 
 charge of the horses. On quitting the village they 
 did not dare to make any inquiry respecting the 
 roads, as their doing so might afford a clew to trace 
 them. Nor could they ask for information in sev-
 
 STANISLAUS LECZINSKI. 259 
 
 ral other villages through which they passed, since 
 those places were occupied by Russian and Saxon 
 troops, and the travellers thought themselves ex. 
 tremely fortunate in being allowed to proceed un- 
 questioned. The heat grew so excessive that at 
 last the horses were ready to sink under their bur- 
 den, and the party were much embarrassed what to 
 do, when, luckily, they came to a deserted house 
 which stood at some distance from the road. There 
 they took shelter for a couple of hours, while the 
 horses were recruited by grazing. 
 
 Midway between Marienwerder and Marienburg 
 the Vistula divides into two rivers. The left of 
 these retains the original name, and falls into the 
 Baltic Sea below Dantzic, after throwing out a 
 branch before it reaches that city. The stream 
 which flows to the right, and on which Marienburg 
 is situated, falls into the Frisch Haff, and is called 
 the Nogat. Stanislaus was now in the triangular 
 island formed by the Baltic, the Vistula, and the 
 Nogat ; and it was his object to cross the latter 
 river above Marienburg, in order to reach the 
 friendly territory of Prussia, which was nigh at 
 hand. 
 
 About eight o'clock in the evening the travellers 
 arrived at the bank of a river, on the shore of which 
 was lying an old leaky boat. " How lucky we 
 are !" exclaimed the guides ; " here is the Nogat, 
 and here is a boat, which Providence seems to have 
 sent expressly for our use !" They were begin- 
 ning to push the skiff into the water, when a peas- 
 ant came up, from whom Stanislaus, who had many 
 doubts on the subject, inquired whether this stream 
 was the Nogat. " No, indeed," said the peasant,
 
 U60 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 " it is the Vistula ; you are a league and a half 
 from the Nogat." They had lost their way ; and 
 had not this man opportunely appeared, they would 
 have recrossed the Vistula, and their ruin would 
 have been almost inevitable. 
 
 There was a public house close by, into which 
 the king and his guides entered, representing them- 
 selves as butchers of Marienburg, who wanted te 
 go over the Nogat to purchase cattle. The host 
 replied that they must give up that idea, for that 
 not a boat, however small, was to be had on that 
 river, the Russians having carried them all away 
 to Marienburg, lest they should be seized by the 
 Polish flying parties, which were scouring the 
 country on the other side. This was bad news ; 
 and it seems to have absolutely turned the heads 
 of the two guides. After Stanislaus had spent a 
 sleepless night in a barn, they came to him at day- 
 break to propose the most absurd and hazardous 
 of all schemes. They had, they said, made up 
 their minds that there was no other way of cross- 
 ing the Nogat than by the bridge at Marienburg. 
 The king endeavoured to rally them out of this in- 
 sane project. " Really," said he, " I do not know 
 you again ! Is it indeed you who manifest such 
 uncommon courage ? What ! can you venture to 
 brave a numerous garrison of regular troops ? 
 you, who grew pale at the approach of a few un- 
 disciplined fellows that did not deserve the name 
 of soldiers ? Are you ignorant that the danger 
 from which I am flying awaits me in that very 
 town, and that you will certainly find there the 
 shackles and the gibbet, of which you stand BO 
 much in feu- ?"
 
 STANISLAUS LECZ1NSK1. 261 
 
 Instead of giving up their plan, however, as he 
 had hoped they would, they only insisted on it the 
 more tenaciously, and at last declared that they 
 would leave him if he refused to adopt it. It was 
 only by dint of earnest and persevering entreaty 
 that he at length succeeded so far as to prevail on 
 them to continue their journey to the Nogat, to as- 
 certain whether a boat could be procured. Nor 
 could he obtain even this concession without agree- 
 ing to go to Marienburg in case of their being dis- 
 appointed when they reached the river. They 
 now crossed through woods, and by almost impass- 
 able roads, till they came to a village. Here the 
 king wished to make some inquiries, but his com- 
 panions opposed it, on the ground of its impru- 
 dence. They were ready to thrust themselves 
 into danger by facing a Russian garrison, but ter- 
 rifled at the idea of putting a simple question to 
 unsuspecting peasants ! Again they protested that 
 it was useless to ask about roads and ferries, there 
 being no egress but through Marienburg ; and 
 again Stanislaus was under the necessity of resort- 
 ing to persuasion to shake their obstinacy. The 
 Schnapan then volunteered to inquire at a neigh, 
 bouring house ; but he speedily came back to say 
 that the owners spoke only Polish, and could not 
 understand him. To this the king replied that he 
 would himself go and speak to them. " At the 
 same time I prepared," says he, " to alight from 
 the vehicle. But this was a day of contradiction 
 with my attendants. They opposed my design, 
 because they feared that my language would be- 
 tray me. I laughed, however, at their fears, and 
 got out in spite of them. I was already proceed'
 
 262 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 ing towards the house, when, to prevent my design, 
 they placed themselves before me, and swore they 
 would die sooner than allow me to go farther. 
 This excessive impudence was past bearing, and 
 ( rushed on them as though I meant to knock them 
 down and trample over them. A moment after, 
 ( could not help laughing in my sleeve at my sud- 
 den burst of passion ; but how could I restrain 
 myself in the first heat of my resentment ? And, 
 in fact, was it not rather a prudent outbreak, 
 prompted by reason, than a blind transport of an- 
 ger ? My firmness daunted them, and made them 
 have recourse to new menaces. Well,' said they, 
 as they hastily drew back out of my way, ' since 
 it is your intention to get us hanged, we will quit 
 you this moment.' ' Oh ! with all my heart,' was 
 my reply : * go along ; set off" when you please ; a 
 good journey to you.' 
 
 " I entered the house, and in as polite a manner 
 as was consistent with my rustic garb, which I 
 dared not belie, told the hostess that I wished to 
 cross the Nogat to purchase cattle, and would 
 thank her to tell me the best place for getting over. 
 ' Really you come in good time,' said she, ' for I 
 can save you the trouble of a passage, which, in 
 fact, is very difficult to accomplish. I have cattle 
 to sell, and I can see, from your manner, that we 
 shall easily agree about the price.' I pretended to 
 be delighted with what she said, but replied that I 
 could not deal with her till I came back, as I was 
 going for a sum of money which was due to me, a 
 part of which I would gladly lay out with her on 
 my return. ' But there is not a single boat to be 
 had,' she rejoined ; ' what will you do ?' ' What
 
 STANISLAUS LLVZINSKI. 263 
 
 ever you think best,' answered I, in an open and 
 confiding tone. ' I would rather accept a favour 
 from you than from any one else, and I am sure, 
 you will not be offended with the preference which 
 I give you in this respect. But, in short, I am fa- 
 miliar with this country/ added I, ' and, obliged as 
 you are to keep up a continual intercourse with the 
 other side of the river, I know it is impossible but 
 that, in spite of all the precautions taken by the Rus- 
 sians, you must have some means of crossing.' * I 
 see you are a good fellow,' said the hostess. * Stay : 
 I will send my son with you ; he will take you a 
 quarter of a league farther on. Upon the opposite 
 bank there is a fisherman, a friend of his, who 
 keeps a little boat in his house. At a signal he 
 will come and take you in, and you cannot have a 
 more safe and easy mode of being relieved from 
 the embarrassment under which I perceive you to 
 be labouring.' I thanked this woman in the warm, 
 est terms, and left the house with her son." 
 
 The two refractory guides had waited at a little 
 distance to learn the result of the king's adventure. 
 When they saw him come out with a joyous coun- 
 tenance and a new conductor, they were beyond 
 measure astonished and disconcerted. He, howev- 
 er, afiected not to be aware of their presence. As 
 soon as the son of the hostess had taken his place, 
 Stanislaus set the vehicle in motion ; upon which 
 the guides, who probably at that moment were in 
 dread of a halter, came running up, and requested 
 admission. He allowed them to get in, but took 
 no notice of them. 
 
 On reaching the Nogat, Stanislaus left one of the 
 guides in charge of the vehicle and horses, with or*
 
 264 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 ders to wait till he was joined by his comrade. Tin 
 signal was then given, the fisherman rowed over 
 with his boat, and the royal passenger and the re- 
 maining guide were conveyed to the opposite bank, 
 where, after seven days' endurance of toil and peril, 
 the king at last found himself in safety. This hap- 
 py termination of his adventures filled the heart of 
 the wanderer with gratitude to his Maker. In a 
 neighbouring village he bought another vehicle, dis- 
 missed the last of his guides, giving him a short 
 note, in cipher, to the Marquis de Monti, and then 
 bent his way to the Prussian town of Marienwerder. 
 " I passed through that town," says he, " seated on 
 my wagon, and I more than once laughed at the 
 curvy appearance of my equipage. My entrance 
 into the place was certainly anything but magnifi- 
 cent ; but no vain splendour could have enhanced 
 the joy which I felt at that moment. I had with me 
 the justice of my cause, the love of my subjects, my 
 peace of conscience, and, doubtless, the esteem of 
 my enemies. What more cogent motives could I 
 have had to forget my reverses ? Those only who 
 have deserved their misfortunes, or who have fail- 
 ed to bear them courageously, may be allowed to 
 remember them with sorrow." 
 
 The day after his arrival at Marienwerder the 
 king had the pleasure of meeting again with his 
 faithful companion, General Steinflicht. From 
 Marienwerder he set off to Konigsberg. Orders 
 had already been given by the Prussian monarch 
 to afford him whatever assistance he might require, 
 and to pay him all due honours. Having remain- 
 ed for some time at Konigsberg, where he was lodg- 
 ed in the palace, he returned to France.
 
 STANISLAUS LECZINSKI. 265 
 
 After all his vicissitudes, Stanislaus was destined 
 to retain the regal title and to die a sovereign. By 
 the treaty of peace between France and the em. 
 peror, which was concluded in 1735, it was stipu- 
 lated that he should renounce the kingdom of Po- 
 land, retaining, however, the title, and should pos- 
 sess for life the duchies of Lorraine and Bar, which 
 on his decease were to be united to France. All 
 his patrimonial property in Poland, which had been 
 confiscated, was likewise restored. 
 
 The territory assigned to him was held by Stan- 
 islaus for a period of thirty years. On assuming 
 the reins of government, he had to overcome the 
 prejudices of the Lorrainers, who were strongly at- 
 tached to the family of their ancient dukes. His 
 virtues, however, finally rendered him a favourite of 
 the people. One circumstance alone at times exci* 
 ted the murmurs of his subjects. France had se- 
 cured to herself the revenue of the two duchies, on 
 condition of paying to the new duke a yearly sum 
 of two millions of livres ; and the Lorrainers justly 
 considered as oppressive some of the financial meas- 
 ures of the French government, which Stanislaus 
 was compelled to sanction. It was, however, not to 
 the duke, but to his peculiar situation, that the fault 
 was attributed by those who were aggrieved. His 
 efforts to improve and embellish his dominions, and 
 to promote the prosperity of his people, were inces- 
 sant, and earned for him the glorious appellation of 
 "the beneficent." He founded churches, hospitals, 
 schools, and charitable institutions of various kinds , 
 established a public library, and a royal society of 
 sciences and literature ; extended relief not merely 
 to individuals, but to ruined towns ; and adorned the
 
 266 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 city of Nancy, his capital, with splendid edifices. 
 While he was thus honourably occupied, his Polish 
 partisans fanned a scheme for placing him once 
 more on the throne ; but he refused to countenance 
 it, and patriotically exhorted them to forbear from 
 involving their country in the horrors of a civil 
 war. 
 
 Stanislaus lived to a very advanced age. He 
 paid the severe penalty which nature irrevocably 
 attaches to " length of days," that of seeing those 
 we love descending to the grave before us. His 
 wife, Catharine Opolinska, with whom he had for 
 half a century lived in harmonious union, died in. 
 1747. The decease, in 1765, of his grandson the 
 dauphin, of whom he had formed the brightest hopes, 
 gave a terrible wound to his peace. " I have," said 
 he, *' twice lost a crown without being moved by it, 
 but the death of my dear dauphin annihilates me." 
 
 Stanislaus did not long survive the lamented ob- 
 ject of his effection. A mind imbued with supersti. 
 tion might be tempted to believe that he had an in- 
 distinct bodement of his approaching end, and even 
 of the manner in which it was to be brought about. 
 On the 1st of February, 1766, he visited the church 
 of Bon Secours, which he had built, and meant as 
 his burial-place. He stood for a considerable time 
 over the vault ; and, on going away, he said to his 
 attendants, " Do you know what kept me there so 
 long ? 1 was thinking that in a short time I shall 
 be three feet lower down." He was at the mo- 
 ment in perfect health, and of a hale constitution. 
 Shortly after, the conversation turned upon the num. 
 ber of sovereigns who had lately died. He reck- 
 oned them all up, and remarked that he was the old*
 
 STANISLAUS LEOZINSK1. 267 
 
 est sovereign in Europe. Then he adverted to the 
 numerous perils to which he had been exposed, and 
 added, " For me to have encountered every kind of 
 danger there only wants my being burned." 
 
 Four days after these words were uttered, his 
 morning-gown caught fire as he was looking up 
 at a clock over the mantelpiece. He called to his 
 attendants, but there was no one at hand. In stoop- 
 ing to extinguish the flames, he lost his balance, and, 
 in falling, was wounded, and probably stunned, by 
 the point of an andiron. Unable to move or to 
 speak, he lay for some time with one of his hands 
 on the burning fuel ; and it was not till their atten- 
 tion was excited by the strong odour which issued 
 from the apartment that the domestics came to his 
 rescue. On being raised up he recovered his 
 senses. The fingers of his left hand were consu- 
 med, and all that side of his body, from the neck to 
 the knee, was injured in a terrible degree. 
 
 When his disaster first became known, the towns- 
 people thronged to the palace in the deepest afflic- 
 tion. Every day, as the tidings spread, crowds 
 from all parts of Lorraine hurried to Luneville, to 
 ascertain the state of the sovereign who had ruled 
 them so long and so benevolently. Even in the 
 midst of his sufferings, his kindly feelings for others 
 remained undiminished. Learning that some ot 
 those who had come to inquire about him were poor 
 persons who had not the means of subsistence, he 
 ordered that their wants should be immediately sup- 
 plied. To calm the fears of his daughter, the Queen 
 of France, he dictated a letter, in which, evidently 
 with a view to conceal the full extent of his misfor- 
 tune, he bantered her on having recently advised 
 
 A.
 
 268 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 him to beware of cold. "You ought," said he, 
 M rather to have warned me to beware of heat.*' 
 
 For a while there were hopes that the life of 
 Stanislaus might be saved. His invincible forti- 
 tude and equanimity contributed to keep alive these 
 delusive anticipations of his friends. He signed 
 papers, and even held a sort of levee with his wont- 
 ed cheerfulness. But the vital powers were too 
 much exhausted to maintain the contest. He sank 
 into a lethargy, from which he awoke only to find 
 his tortures increased. After having endured ex- 
 treme agony, he expired on the 23d of February, 
 1766, in the eighty-eighth year of his age.
 
 EXPULSION OF CORTEZ FROM MEXICO, 
 AND HIS RECONQUEST OF THAT CITY 
 
 BT the decisive overthrow of his rival Narvaez 
 at Zempoalla, and the junction of the defeated troops 
 with his own, Cortez seemed to have acquired such 
 an accession of strength as to place him above all 
 fear of disaster, and almost of opposition. Besides 
 a detachment of a hundred and twenty men, de- 
 spatched under Velasquez de Leon to Panuco, he 
 was at the head of thirteen hundred Europeans, of 
 whom nearly a hundred were cavalry, and a hun- 
 dred and sixty musketeers and crossbowmen. He 
 was also seconded by a division of two thousand 
 Tlascalan warriors. 
 
 But, while Cortez was triumphing over his enemy 
 and increasing his own resources, an event was oc- 
 curring in Mexico which threatened eventually to 
 prove destructive to him. On his departing from 
 that city to march against Narvaez, he had left Al- 
 varado in command, with four cannon, and a feeble 
 party of eighty. three soldiers, of which only twenty- 
 four were musketeers and crossbowmen, and seven 
 avalry. Alvarado's quarters were strengthened 
 with a stout palisade, and he was well supplied with 
 provisions. Possessing such inadequate means to 
 control the population of so large a city, it behooved 
 him to supply by his prudence the want of physical 
 strength. But Alvarado was actuated only by an 
 insatiable hunger for gold, and by that brute inso- 
 lence which springs from the exercise of abused
 
 270 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 and unresisted power. Pretending to have obtain- 
 ed information that the Mexicans were meditating 
 to fall upon the Spaniards, he treacherously attack. 
 d them while they were dancing at a solemn fes- 
 tival in honour of their deities. He had himself 
 permitted them to hold the festival, and his real 
 motive for assailing them unaware is believed to 
 have been that he might plunder them of the golden 
 ornaments which they wore on such occasions. In 
 this instance, however, the Mexicans did not tamely 
 submit to injustice. Enraged by his perfidy, and 
 the wanton slaughter of great numbers of their fel- 
 low-countrymen, and imboldened by the scantiness 
 of his force, they rose in insurrection against him. 
 They were victorious : several of the Spaniards 
 were slain outright, several wounded, and the sur- 
 vivers compelled to retreat to their fortified quar- 
 ters. Thither they were followed by the Mexicans, 
 who held them closely besieged, harassed them with 
 frequent assaults, and destroyed by fire a part of 
 the Spanish posts and magazines, and also the two 
 brigantines on the lake. In this critical condition, 
 menaced at once by the sword and by famine, Alva- 
 rado despatched messengers to Cortez soliciting in- 
 stant succour. Almost at the heels of those mes- 
 sengers arrived four of the chief noblemen of Mon- 
 tezuma's court, to complain of the conduct of Alva- 
 rado : they were received coldly, and dismissed with 
 an ambiguous answer. 
 
 In order to give the reader a clearer idea of the 
 subsequent operations of Cortez, it will be neces- 
 sary to make him correctly acquainted with the lo. 
 cal situation of the ancient Mexican capital. That 
 capital, which then bore the name of Tenochtitlan,
 
 CORTEZ. 27 1 
 
 occupied not only the ground on which the modern 
 Mexico stands, but also an additional space of still 
 more ample extent. Nor did it resemble its suc- 
 cessor in being built upon the mainland. Like 
 Venice, it occupied a cluster of islands, which rose, 
 at some distance from the western shore, out of a 
 vast salt-water lake, called the Lake of Tezcuco. 
 It was approachable on the north, south, and west 
 only by three causeways, formed of earth faced with 
 stone, each of which was about ten yards wide, and 
 divided at intervals by cuts, admitting the water to 
 flow through, and bridged with timber, the remova. 
 of which would prevent access to the city. The 
 western causeway, a mile and a half long, led to 
 Tacuba ; that on the north, twice the length, led to 
 Tepeaca ; and that on the south, which extended 
 six miles, was the road to Iztapalapa, and likewise 
 threw off from the midway of it a branch to Caya- 
 huacan. The great distance and the depth of 
 water did not allow of a causeway to the eastern 
 shore, on which stood the city of Tezcuco ; but 
 communication was kept up by means of canoes, 
 myriads of which were perpetually in motion on the 
 lake. To the south was a smaller lake, reaching 
 from Chalco to Suchimilco, and connected with that 
 of Tezcuco. The city of Tenochtitlan was inter- 
 sected by innumerable canals, over which were 
 bridges wide enough for ten horsemen to pass 
 abreast. As the water of the lake was not drink- 
 able, fresh water was conveyed from the mainland 
 by the aqueduct of Chepultapeque. Bernal Diaz 
 saw the Mexican capital from the lofty summit of 
 the great temple, and he thus describes it : " We 
 were struck with the numbers of canoes passing tc
 
 5472 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 and f'rutu the mainland, loaded with p"> visions nnj 
 me-chandise ; and we could now perceive that ia 
 this city, and in all others of that neighbourhood 
 which were built in the water, the houses stooc 1 
 separate from each other, communicating only by 
 small drawbridges and by boats, and that they wer 
 built with terraced tops. We observed also th 
 temples and adoratories of the adjacent cities, buik 
 in the form of towers and fortresses, and others o 
 the causeway, all whitewashed, and wonderfully 
 brilliant. The noise and bustle of the market-plact* 
 below us could be heard almost a league off, and 
 those who had been at Rome and at Constantino- 
 ple said that, for convenience, regularity, and pop- 
 ulation, they had never seen the like." Since the 
 lime of Cortez a wonderful change has taken place 
 in the aspect of the country around Mexico ; the 
 increased evaporation and the diminished supply of 
 water in consequence of the destruction of the 
 woods, the gradual accretion of alluvial soil, and 
 the formation of a gigantic drainage canal, have ah 
 contributed to shrink the lake into narrower dimen- 
 sions, so that the modern capital is now seated on 
 a marshy plain, with its centre nearly three mile* 
 distant from the western shore. 
 
 The tidings which had been brought to Corte* 
 did not admit of any delay, and he accordingly 
 proceeded by forced marches to the Mexican capi. 
 tal. Notwithstanding the disastrous news from 
 that city, Cortez, during his progress towards it 
 could not refrain from expatiating to the new-com- 
 ers on the power which he possessed there, and 
 the respect in which he was held, and he raised to 
 the highest pitch their hopes of reaping an exube-
 
 CORTEZ. 273 
 
 rant golden harvest. It was not long, however, 
 before they had reason to doubt the truth of his 
 assertions. At Tezcuco he was received with a 
 studied coldness and neglect, which argued but ill 
 for his reception in the capital. It was on St. 
 John's day, in the month of June, that the Spanish 
 troops, with their Tlascalan allies, entered Mexico. 
 Their leader was speedily made aware that all re- 
 spect for him had ceased, and that henceforth he 
 could exercise no power that was not won by the 
 sword. The whole of that portion of the city 
 through which he passed to Alvai ado's quarters 
 seemed to be depopulated, and not one of the no. 
 bility or chiefs with whom he had been familiar 
 came forward to greet him. When, indeed, he 
 reached Alvarado's post, he was met by some of 
 the officers of the captive Montezuma, who ex- 
 pressed the wish of their royal master to congrat- 
 ulate him in person on his victory. But the arro- 
 gant Spaniard was in too wrathful a mood to be 
 propitiated by this homage, and he vented his rage 
 against the monarch in the grossest language, 
 and threatened him with his heaviest vengeance. 
 " Away with him, the dog ! What obligation am 
 I under to a dog who treated with Narvaez !" were 
 among the decorous terms which were used by this 
 Iberian robber. In the hope of softening his anger, 
 Montezuma himself now advanced ; but the Span- 
 iard would neither hear nor speak to him, and the 
 repulsed sovereign retired, with melancholy fore- 
 bodings, to his own apartment. 
 
 These bursts of vulgar passion would probably 
 not have been indulged in by Cortez had he not 
 Imagined that impunity for them was secured by 
 
 2418
 
 274 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 his augmented force. The people were socn in- 
 formed of them, and were maddened into tenfold 
 fury. Not long after they had been uttered a 
 wounded soldier entered, exclaiming that the whole 
 population was in arms. He had narrowly escaped 
 from the hands of the Mexicans, who had seized 
 him, and were bearing him off to be sacrificed to 
 their gods. Cortez now began to feel alarmed, 
 and instantly despatched Colonel de Ordez, with 
 four hundred men, to endeavour to pacify the pop. 
 ulace. Ordez had, however, proceeded but a very 
 little way when he was assailed by myriads of na- 
 tives, as well from the tops of the houses as in the 
 streets. Their first volley stretched eight of his 
 soldiers lifeless on the ground. He turned to re- 
 trace his footsteps, but found himself hemmed in 
 on every side. Other multitudes had fallen upon 
 the Spanish quarters, and had poured into them 
 such a storm of missiles, that forty-six Spaniards 
 were wounded, many of them mortally, at the very 
 outset. Pressed upon in front and rear, and galled 
 by stones and darts from the terraces, De Ordez, 
 with extreme difficulty, at last rejoined Cortez, hav- 
 ing lost three-and- twenty of his men in this sharp 
 encounter. All the efforts of the Mexicans were 
 now concentrated against the fortified quarters of 
 the Spaniards ; they hurled in their missiles in 
 such numoers as to cover all the courts and open 
 spaces, aod they brought the torch in aid of their 
 weapons. They set fire to the edifices in various 
 places, au4 the Spaniards were obliged to employ 
 a part of ^heir force in smothering the flames with 
 earth, o* "i pulling down the buildings which were 
 burning around them. The rest of the day and
 
 CORTEZ. 275 
 
 the whole of the night were spent in arresting the 
 conflagration, repelling frequent attacks, repairing 
 breaches, dressing the wounded, and preparing for 
 the combat of the morrow. 
 
 Hoping that the enemy might be intimidated by 
 a display of his strength in a vigorous attack, 
 Cortez sallied out with his whole force at the first 
 dawn of morning. But the Mexican belief in 
 Spanish invincibility had ceased to exist. On the 
 instant, thousands rushed forward to meet him, and 
 fought with a desperation which bordered on mad- 
 ness. In vain, time after time, thirty or forty of 
 them were at once swept away by the discharge 
 of musketry and cannon ; the gap was instantly 
 filled up by fresh combatants, careless of life, and 
 thirsting for revenge. Now and then, indeed, the 
 Mexicans would pretend to give way, but it was 
 only to draw their unwary pursuers into positions 
 where their destruction might be more surely ac- 
 complished. While the Spaniards were contend- 
 ing in front with these daring antagonists, they 
 were sorely harassed by others, who were equally 
 formidable, and upon whom they were unable to 
 retaliate. The terraced roofs were thronged with 
 Mexicans, who incessantly discharged volleys o/ 
 Btones and darts. The Spaniards were finally com- 
 pelled to retreat ; and it was not without a hard 
 struggle that, baffled, weary, and suffering from 
 wounds and bruises, they at length regained their 
 quarters. 
 
 Discouraging as was the result of this day's con. 
 flict, Cortez had no alternative but to renew his 
 attack upon the enemy. There was a chance that 
 kill or good fortune might give him the victory
 
 276 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 while acting upon the offensive : to stand upon the 
 defensive could end only in ruin. Before, however, 
 he recommenced his operations, he endeavoured to 
 provide the means of keeping his antagonists at 
 some distance, and sheltering his troops from the 
 perpetual shower of missiles. For this purpose he 
 ordered four towers to be constructed of strong 
 timber, each of which was pierced with loopholes 
 for cannon, musketry, and crossbows, and would 
 contain twenty-five men under cover. These towers 
 weie to be moved forward upon wheels. While 
 this work was going on, the Spaniards were also 
 obliged to repair the breaches in their walls and 
 to beat off the enemy, who attempted to scale them 
 in twenty places at once. " They continued their 
 reviling language," says Bernal Diaz, " exclaiming 
 that the voracious animals of their temples had now 
 been kept two days fasting, in order to devour us 
 at the period which was speedily approaching, 
 when they were to sacrifice us to their gods ; that 
 our allies were to be put up in cages to fatten, and 
 that they would soon repossess our ill-acquired 
 treasure. At other times they plaintively called 
 to us to give them their king ; and during the nighi 
 we were constantly annoyed by showers of arrows, 
 which they accompanied with shouts and whis- 
 tlings." 
 
 A day was spent in the construction of the towers. 
 At dawn on the next morning Cortez again march- 
 ed forth at the head of all his followers. Again 
 the battle raged, and with even greater violence 
 than before, The Mexicans fought with increased 
 obstinacy, and their movements were directed with 
 more skill. They rushed to the combat with loud
 
 CORTEZ. 27? 
 
 shouts and imprecations, and amid the din of num- 
 berless drums, conchs, and a variety of discordant 
 war instruments. Every inch of the ground was 
 pertinaciously contested by them, and was bought 
 by the Spaniards at a large expense of toil and 
 blood. When the cavalry attempted to pursue 
 them, they eluded the charge by throwing them- 
 selves into the canals, and the pursuers were them- 
 selves pierced with large lances by enemies who 
 suddenly sallied from the houses. From the ter- 
 races the slingers incessantly plied their slings, and 
 their companions rolled down masses of stone upon 
 the heads of the Spaniards. To reach the houses 
 was generally almost impossible, as they were all 
 insulated in this part of the city ; and even when 
 one of them chanced to be set on fire, the flames 
 extended no farther. 
 
 It was to the Teocalli, or great temple, from 
 which the Mexicans overlooked and severely an- 
 noyed the Spanish quarters, that Cortez was desi- 
 rous to penetrate. This temple, which was situated 
 in the midst of vast paved courts, consisted of a 
 truncated pyramid a hundred and thirteen feet in 
 height, and little less than four hundred feet in 
 diameter, and was ascended by steps. On its flat 
 summit was a tower nearly sixty feet high, and 
 other buildings, devoted to the worship of their 
 gods. By dint of the most strenuous exertions 
 Cortez at length reached the entrance to the spot ; 
 but this only brought him in contact with more 
 numerous and desperate adversaries. The sides 
 and summit of the pyramid were already occupied 
 by great numbers of warriors : and no sooner did 
 the Spaniards and Tlascalans ".opear in sight, than
 
 278 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 above four thousand Mexicans rushed up to assist 
 in the defence of the building. Now began a fierce 
 and sanguinary struggle. The Spanish cavalry 
 endeavoured to charge the enemy in the courts, 
 but the pavement was so smooth that the horses 
 were unable to keep their feet. Cortez, however, 
 by the help of his artillery and infantry, at last 
 reached the base of the pyramid. From the steps 
 of it, from both sides of him, and from behind, he 
 was perseveringly attacked ; and though the can- 
 non swept off from ten to fifteen at every discharge, 
 and the swords of the foot-soldiers made almost 
 equal havoc, fresh bands incessantly filled the places 
 of the fallen. Cortez was forced to abandon his 
 wooden turrets, and they were destroyed by the 
 Mexicans. Nevertheless, after a long contest, his 
 troops forced their way up to the platform, and set 
 fire to some of the buildings. Their triumph, how. 
 ever, was a transient one. Maddened by this in- 
 suit to the objects of their worship, the enemy re- 
 doubled their efforts. More than three thousand 
 Mexican nobles and priests fell furiously on the 
 sacrilegious invaders, upon whom were also shower- 
 ed darts and stones from every nook and corner of 
 the edifice where a combatant could find a standing, 
 olace. Overborne by the raging multitude, the 
 Spaniards, not one of whom was unwounded, were 
 driven down from the pyramid and hotly pursued 
 to their quartern, leaving forty-six of their slain com. 
 panions on the scene of battle. Nor when they had 
 entered their quarters were they yet in safety ; for 
 during the absence of Cortez a part of the walls 
 had been beaten down by a body of the enemy, 
 who were still continuing their assaults, and did
 
 COKTEZ. 279 
 
 not cease from them till lassitude and darkness put 
 an end to the conflict. 
 
 By this disastrous combat a heavy blow was 
 given to the pride and confidence of the Spaniards. 
 " The night," says Bernal Diaz, " was employed 
 by us in repairing the breaches, in dressing our 
 wounds, burying our dead, and consulting on our 
 future measures. No gleam of hope could BOW be 
 rationally formed by us, and we were utterly sunk 
 in despair. Those who had come with Narvaez 
 showered maledictions upon Cortez, nor did they 
 forget Velasquez, by whom they had been induced 
 to quit their comfortable and peaceful habitations 
 in the island of Cuba. It was determined to try if 
 we could not procure from the enemy a cessation 
 of hostilities, on condition of our quitting the city j 
 but at daybreak they assembled around our quarters, 
 and attacked them with greater fury than ever ; 
 nor could our firearms repel them, although they 
 did considerable execution." 
 
 As a last resource, Cortez resolved that the cap- 
 tive Montezuma should address the besiegers, de- 
 siring them to discontinue hostilities, and allow 
 their enemies to withdraw from the city. But the 
 unhappy monarch was reluctant to expose himself 
 to the gaze of his indignant subjects ; and, " burst- 
 ing into violent expressions of grief," he refused to 
 comply with the request of the Spanish leader. 
 He is also said to have declared that he wished not 
 to be troubled any more with the false words and 
 promises of Cortez. At length, however, he was 
 prevailed upon, or compelled, to harangue the peo- 
 ple from a terraced roof. When he had finished 
 his speech, four of the Mexican nobles came for-
 
 280 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 ward from among the multitude. They lamented 
 his misfortunes, and '' told him that they had raised 
 Coadlavaca, prince of Iztapalapa, to the throne, 
 adding that the war was drawing to a conclusion ; 
 that they had vowed to their gods never to desist 
 but with the total destruction of the Spaniards ; 
 that they every day offered up prayers for his per- 
 sonal safety ; and that, as soon as they had rescued 
 him out of our hands, they would venerate him as 
 before, and trusted that he would pardon them." 
 
 But, while the nobles of Montezuma were thus 
 doing homage to him, his final moment was at 
 hand. Though numbers of the Mexicans had sus- 
 pended hostilities, and loudly greeted him, there 
 were others whose anger was not to be repressed 
 by his presence, or, rather, was increased by it ; 
 for they considered his tame submission disgrace- 
 ful to himself and his people. By this portion of 
 the besiegers arrows and stones were still dischar- 
 ged into the quarters of their detested enemies. 
 While the monarch was speaking, two Spanish sol- 
 diers stood by and covered him with their shields. 
 They chanced to withdraw them for an instant, and 
 in that instant three stones and an arrow struck 
 him on the head, arm, and leg ; one of the stones 
 fractured his scull, and he was conveyed senseless 
 to the palace. On coming to himself he refused 
 all medical aid, and shortly afterward expired. His 
 body was restored to the Mexicans ; and his er- 
 rors being cancelled by his untimely fate, the sight 
 of it produced universal grief. " They now," says 
 Bernal Diaz, " attacked us in our quarters with the 
 greatest violence, and threatened us that within the 
 pace of two days we should pay with our lives the
 
 CORTE2. 281 
 
 death of their king and the dishonour of their 
 gods, adding that they had chosen a sovereign 
 whom we could not deceive as we had done the 
 good Montezuma." 
 
 Little reason as there was to hope for success in 
 such an attempt, Cortez determined to try whether 
 he could not intimidate the Mexicans into obedi- 
 ence by an extension of ravage and slaughter. 
 His plan was to make his way to that part of the 
 city which contained many houses built upon the 
 firm ground, where he might be able to ride down 
 the natives and burn the buildings. He did, indeed, 
 reach the selected spot, and had the satisfaction of 
 destroying about twenty houses. This achieve- 
 ment, however, cost him twenty men killed, and was 
 productive of no benefit whatever; he could not 
 get possession of a single bridge on the causeway, 
 and his cavalry was rendered wholly unavailing by 
 the parapets and barricades which the natives had 
 formed to check its progress. After several hours 
 of fruitless toil, the Spaniards, harassed and dis. 
 couraged, returned to their quarters. 
 
 The prospect now before them was of the gloom- 
 iest kind ; their attacks had uniformly failed, their 
 offers of peace were scornfully rejected, their num. 
 bers and strength were hourly wasting away, their 
 powder was almost exhausted, their provisions and 
 water were intercepted, and the bridges which lay 
 in the lina of their retreat had been broken down ; 
 while, on the other hand, the multitude of the Mex- 
 icans was continually increasing, and their assaults 
 were growing more violent and well-directed. No 
 chance of safety remained but in escaping silently 
 by night. This being resolved upon, Cortez or.
 
 282 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 dered the construction of a portable timber bridge, 
 for the purpose of being thrown over the canals 
 that intersected the causeway of Tacuba, along 
 which he meant to lead his troops. The Spanish 
 and Tlascalan force was then marshalled in com- 
 pact order, a considerable portion of the best sol- 
 diers being selected to convey the bridge and form 
 the vanguard. The rear was brought up by a 
 body of infantry and a strong detachment of cav- 
 alry, under the command of Alvarado and Velas- 
 quez de Leon. 
 
 It was on the night of the tenth of July, which 
 still bears the expressive appellation of" the mourn- 
 ful night," that Cortez commenced his perilous en- 
 terprise : its result Bernal Diaz shall himself de- 
 scribe. " A little before midnight, the detachment 
 which took charge of the bridge set out upon its 
 march, and, arriving at the first canal or aperture 
 of water, it was thrown across. The night was 
 dark and misty, and it began to rain. The bridge 
 being fixed, the baggage, artillery, and some of the 
 cavalry passed over it, as also the Tlascalans with 
 the gold. Sandoval and those with him passed, 
 also Cortez and his party after the first, and many 
 other soldiers. At this moment the trumpets and 
 shouts of the enemy were heard, and the alarm 
 was given by them, crying out, ' Taltelulco, Taltel- 
 ulco, out with your canoes : the Teules are going : 
 attack them at the bridges.' In an instant the en- 
 emy were upon us by land, and the lake and canals 
 were covered with their canoes. They immediate- 
 ly flew to the bridges, and fell on us there, so that 
 they entirely intercepted our line of march. As 
 misfortunes do not come single, it also rained so
 
 CORTEZ. 283 
 
 heavily that some of the horses were terrified, 
 and, growing restifF, fell into the water, while the 
 bridge was broken in at the same time. The en- 
 erny now attacked us here with redoubled fury, and 
 our soldiers making a stout resistance, the aper- 
 ture of water was soon filled up with the dead and 
 dying men and horses, and those who were strug- 
 gling to escape, with artillery, packs and bales of 
 baggage, and those who carried them. Many 
 were drowned here, and many forced into the ca- 
 noes and carried off for sacrifice. It was dreadful 
 to hear the cries of the unfortunate sufferers call- 
 ing for assistance, and invoking the Holy Virgin 
 or Saint Jago, while others, who escaped by swim- 
 ming or by clambering upon the chests, bales of 
 baggage, and dead bodies, earnestly begged for 
 help to get up to the causeway. Many, who on 
 their reaching the ground thought themselves safe, 
 were there seized or knocked on the head with clubs. 
 " Whatever of regularity there had been in the 
 march at first had now entirely disappeared ; for 
 Cortez and the captains and soldiers who were 
 mounted clapped spurs to their horses, and gallop- 
 ed off along the causeway ; nor can I blame them, 
 for the cavalry could do nothing against the enemy 
 of any effect ; since, when they attacked them, the 
 latter threw themselves into the water on each side 
 of the causeway, and others from the houses with 
 arrows, or on the ground with large lances, killed 
 the horses. It is evident we could make no battle 
 with them in the water, and without powder, and in 
 the night, what else could we do than we did? 
 which was, to join in bodies of thirty or forty sol- 
 diers, and when the Indians closed upon us, to 
 Y
 
 284 PERILOUS ADVEiTURES 
 
 drive them off with a few cuts and thrusts of our 
 swords, and then hurry on to get over the cause- 
 way as soon as we could. As to waiting for one 
 another, that would have lost us all ; and had it 
 happened in the daytime, things would have been 
 even worse with us than they were. The escape 
 of such as were fortunate enough to effect it was 
 owing to God's mercy, who gave us force to do so ; 
 for the very sight of the number of the enemy who 
 surrounded us, and carried off our companions in 
 their canoes to sacrifice, was terrible. About fifty 
 of us, soldiers of Cortez, and some of those of Nar- 
 vaez, went together in a body by the causeway : 
 every now and then parties of Indians came up, 
 calling us Luilones, a term of reproach, and at- 
 tempting to seize us, while we, when we came 
 within their reach, faced about, repelling them whh 
 a few thrusts of our swords, and then hurried on. 
 "Thus we proceeded until we reached the firm 
 ground near Tacuba, where Cortez, Sandoval, De 
 Oli, Salcedo, Dominguez, Lares, and others of the 
 cavalry, with such of the infantry soldiers as had 
 crossed the bridge before it was destroyed, were 
 already arrived. -When we came near them we 
 heard the voices of Sandoval, De OH, and De Mor- 
 la calling to Cortez, who was riding at their head, 
 that he should turn about and assist those who were 
 coming along the causeway, and who complained 
 that he had abandoned them. Cortez replied that 
 those who had escaped owed it to a miracle, and 
 if they should return to the bridges all would lose 
 their lives. Notwithstanding, he, with ten or twelve 
 of the cavalry, and some of the infantry who had 
 escaped unhurt, marched back, and, proceeding
 
 CORTEZ. 285 
 
 e causeway, had gone but a very short dis- 
 tance, wnf;n they met P. de Akvarado with his lance 
 in his> hand, baaiy wounded and on foot, for his 
 chestnut mare had been killed : he had with him 
 three or four of our soldiers, and four of those of 
 Narvaez, all severely wounded, and eight Tlasca- 
 lans covered with blood." These seven Europeans 
 were the sad remains of more than two hundred 
 who had formed the rear guard. Eight hundred 
 and seventy Spaniards and thirteen hundred Tlas- 
 calans perished on this dismal night and in thp 
 struggles of the preceding days. 
 
 Though the survivers were now out of the city, 
 they were still in imminent danger. The victori- 
 ous Mexicans had already despatched messages to 
 the neighbouring towns, calling upon the people to 
 take up arms and intercept their retreat. The 
 call was willingly obeyed, and the worn-out and 
 wounded Spaniards were soon assailed by multi- 
 tudes with stones, arrows, and pikes, the heads of 
 the latter being formed of the swords that had fallen 
 into the hands of the Mexicans on the preceding 
 night. As soon, therefore, as some arrows had 
 been made for the few remaining crossbows, and 
 a few rags had been hastily swathed round the hurts 
 of the wounded men, Cortez resolved to commence 
 his retreat to Tlascala, the only quarter where he 
 could expect any succour. He was, indeed, not 
 without distressing fears that his reverse of for- 
 tune might cause the Tlascalans to turn against 
 him. There was, however, no other resource for 
 him, ar.d he accordingly set forward with his de- 
 jected troops. The wounded were placed in the 
 centre some were helped along between two men ;
 
 286 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 the cripples supported themselves on crut thes and 
 those who were utterly helpless were mounted on 
 the lame horses. The few cavalry which were lit 
 for service were distributed in front and on the 
 flanks. In this miserable condition they silently 
 quitted Tacuba at midnight, avoiding the high road, 
 and being guided by a few faithful Tlascalans who 
 were well acquainted with the country. Their 
 march was not long unknown to the enemy ; they 
 were followed by crowds, who incessantly showered 
 on them missiles of various kinds, reviled them in 
 the most opprobrious terms, and exultingly exclaim- 
 ed that they were " going to meet their destruc- 
 tion." Several of the Spaniards were wounded 
 and some were slain in these desultory encounters, 
 which were prolonged for three days with continu- 
 ally increasing violence. On the evening of the 
 third day, after having momentarily repulsed the 
 enemy, the Spaniards halted at some villages, and 
 were glad to appease their hunger on the remains 
 of a horse that had been killed. 
 
 The meaning of the mysterious threats which 
 their pursuers had uttered was startlingly revealed 
 to them on the following morning. They set out 
 early, and, having marched a league without being 
 attacked, were beginning to hope they might con- 
 tinue their retreat unmolested. They were soon 
 undeceived, however, by the hasty return of their 
 videttes, who brought the fearful tidings that the 
 neighbouring plains of Otumba were entirely cov- 
 ered with a hostile army. As they moved onward, 
 the whole multitudinous array of their adversaries 
 became visible. It was a gorgeous but terrible 
 sight. There, confident in their numbers, and re-
 
 CORTEZ. 287 
 
 solved to exterminate the hated invaders, stood the 
 entire military population of all the districts bor- 
 dering on the Lake of Mexico, headed by their 
 chiefs, who were magnificently armed, adorned 
 with devices and waving plumes, and glittering 
 with gold. 
 
 Full of anxiety, but undismayed, Cortez ordered 
 a halt to prepare for battle. The cavalry were 
 divided into parties of five, and were directed to 
 charge at half speed, and to point their lances at 
 the faces of their enemies. The foot were also 
 divided into parties, and were told to thrust with 
 their swords, and to pass them clear through the 
 bodies of their opponents. The whole band then 
 commended themselves to God, the Holy Virgin, 
 and St. Jago, and vowed that they would at least 
 sell their lives at as dear a rate as possible. 
 
 By this time the enemy had begun to surround 
 them, and Cortez gave the signal for his troops to 
 rush forward. The combatants speedily came in 
 contact, and the shock was dreadful. " Oh what 
 it was to see this tremendous battle !" exclaims 
 Bernal Diaz. " How we closed foot to foot, and 
 with what fury the dogs fought us ! Such wound- 
 ing as there was among us with their lances and 
 clubs, and two-handed swords, while our cavalry, 
 favoured by the plain ground, rode through them 
 at will, galloping at half speed, and bearing down 
 their opponents with couched lances, still fighting 
 manfully, though they and their horses were all 
 wounded ; and we of the infantry, negligent of our 
 former hurts, and of those which we now received, 
 closed with the enemy, redoubling our efforts to 
 bear them down with our swords. Cortez, De Olit
 
 288 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 Alvarado mounted on a horse of one of the soldiers 
 of Narvaez, and Sandoval, though all wounded, 
 continued to ride through them. Then to hear the 
 valiant Sandoval, how he encouraged us, crying 
 out, ' Now, gentlemen, is the day of victory ; put 
 your trust in God ; we shall survive, for he pre- 
 serves us for some good purpose.' All the sol- 
 diers were determined to conquer ; and thus ani- 
 mated as we were by our Lord Jesus Christ, and 
 our Lady the Virgin Mary, and also by St. Jago, 
 who undoubtedly assisted us, as certified by a chief 
 of Guatimotzin who was present in the battle, 
 we continued, notwithstanding many had received 
 wounds, and some of our companions were killed, 
 to maintain our ground." 
 
 Cortez now called to the troops to strike espe- 
 cially at the chiefs. He himself, accompanied by 
 Alvarado, Sandoval, and others of his principal 
 followers, bore furiously down upon that part of the 
 adverse army where its commanding general was 
 stationed. The Mexican leader was rendered con- 
 spicuous by his splendid standard, his armour cov- 
 ered with gold, and his large plume, which glitter- 
 ed with the same precious material. Though 
 there was not one of the Spanish officers who was 
 not already wounded, they charged upon their en- 
 emies with a vigour that was irresistible. The 
 Mexican chief and the standard were beaten to the 
 ground by the horse of Cortez ; the chief fled, but 
 he was pursued and slain by Juan de Salamanca, 
 who tore from his head the rich plume and pre- 
 sented it to Cortez, saying that, as he had given 
 the first blow and overthrown the standard, this 
 trophy was justly due to him.
 
 CORTEZ. 289 
 
 The fall of their leader, and of many of the mi- 
 ri r chiefs, spread discouragement among the Mex- 
 icans. Their efforts became faint, and at length 
 tiey lost heart entirely, and began to retreat. " As 
 soon as this was perceived by us," says Bernai 
 Eiaz, " we forgot our hunger, thirst, fatigue, and 
 wounds, and thought of nothing but victory and 
 pursuit. Our cavalry followed them up close, and 
 oir allies, now become lions, mowed down all be- 
 fo.-e them with the arms which the enemy threw 
 away in their flight. As soon as our cavalry re 
 turned from the pursuit, we all gave thanks to God ; 
 for never had there appeared so great a force to- 
 gether in that country, being the whole of the war- 
 riors of Mexico, Tezcuco, and Saltocan, all deter- 
 mined not to leave a trace of us upon the earth." 
 
 Rejoicing at their deliverance, the Spaniards 
 continued their march towards Tlascala. Their 
 hunger they satisfied by eating a kind of gourd 
 called ayotes, which they found on their way ; for, 
 notwithstanding their victory, they could not ven- 
 ture to deviate from their route in search of pro- 
 visions. The enemy still showed themselves at a 
 distance, tracking their footsteps, and when they 
 halted for the night disturbing their rest by occa- 
 sional manifestations of hostility. The European 
 soldiers of Cortez being now reduced to four hun- 
 dred and forty men, he thought it necessary to cau- 
 tion them against giving offence to the people of 
 Tlascala. as any misconduct might deprive them of 
 an ally who was, perhaps, already wavering. This 
 caution was more particularly intended for the sol- 
 diers of Narvaez, whose notions of discipline were 
 anything but rigid. 
 
 2419
 
 290 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 / 
 
 On the Spaniards reaching the Tiascalan fron- 
 tier, the Mexicans desisted from following and em- 
 barrassing their movements. Cortez had now the 
 satisfaction to find that his allies had not beea 
 alienated by his disastrous retreat from Mexicc. 
 Their deadly hatred of the Mexicans, seconded, 
 no doubt, by the success at Otumba, had kept then 
 steady in their alliance. There were, indeed, some 
 few, at the head of whom was the younger Xico- 
 tenga, a son of one of the leading chiefs, who hid 
 discernment enough to be aware that the new 
 friends of the Tlascalans were far more unprinci- 
 pled and more dangerous than their ancient ene- 
 mies, and who would fain have seized this oppor- 
 tunity to rid themselves of such pernicious confed- 
 erates. But a vast majority of the Tiascalan 
 chiefs were blind to the future, and they received 
 Cortez with enthusiasm, and lavished their hospita- 
 ble attentions on his sick, weary, and wounded sol- 
 diers. 
 
 Some months elapsed before Cortez found him- 
 self in a condition to venture upon an attempt to 
 recover the Mexican capital. For a while, indeed, 
 after his retreat from Mexico, his force continued 
 to diminish. Most of the officers and soldiers of 
 Narvaez, who had come to the country with san- 
 guine expectations of amassing wealth without en- 
 countering danger and difficulty, were thoroughly 
 disgusted with the perils and sufferings which had 
 beset them, and they clamoured incessantly to be 
 allowed to return to Cuba. Cortez at length con- 
 sented to their departure ; not, however, till he had 
 managed to derive some benefit from their reluc- 
 tant services. When some of his trusty followers
 
 CORTEZ. 29J 
 
 remonstrated with him on his permitting such num- 
 bers to quit them while their army was so weak, 
 he replied, with equal spirit and wisdom, that " he 
 did it partly to get rid of their importunities, and 
 partly because they were not fit for war; and that 
 it was better to be alone than badly accompanied." 
 He even provided for their comfort during the voy- 
 age, and dismissed them with considerable larges- 
 ses. The sagacious chief calculated that his gen- 
 erosity, and the sight of the Mexican gold, would 
 be more powerful to attract volunteers to his stand, 
 ard, than would prove the gloomy pictures drawn 
 by the deserters to dissuade them from it. The 
 result was such as he anticipated. Arrivals of 
 ships, with re-enforcements of men and stores, were 
 already taking place, and those arrivals were soon 
 increased in number and magnitude. Yet, even 
 before his army was sufficiently strengthened to 
 act against the capital, Cortez was not idle. 
 Though he could not aim at the heart of his ene- 
 my, he could lop off the members, and rally round 
 him those who were willing to assist in giving the 
 final blow. Several of the outlying provinces were 
 reduced to obedience by the Spanish leader, and 
 some were drawn into league with him ; and his 
 accomplishment of this was facilitated by the dis- 
 orderly conduct of the Mexican troops, who robbed 
 and insulted the people whom they were sent to 
 defend. To strike terror into the refractory, a 
 measure was adopted of the most iniquitous kind, 
 which was productive of direful consequences to 
 the unfortunate natives. A decree was issue 1 that 
 all the Mexicans and allies of the Mexicans who, 
 after having " given obedience" to his majesty, had 
 Z .
 
 292 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 killed Spanish subjects, should be reduced to a 
 state of slavery. The letter G (for guerra. war) 
 was to be branded with a hot iron on these wretch- 
 ed victims, who had had the "contumacy" to resist 
 a handful of European robbers. The restriction 
 to those who had given obedience was manifestly 
 inserted only for the purpose of deception, and was 
 soon disregarded. 
 
 By December Cortez had received such consid- 
 erable re-enforcements, both of Spaniards and na- 
 lives, and had accumulated such a stock of the 
 materials of warfare, that he began to prepare 
 for commencing his operations against Mexico. 
 There was, however, little chance of his succeed- 
 ing, unless he could secure the command of the 
 lake by which that city was surrounded. To ef- 
 fect, this desirable object, he ordered the frames of 
 thirteeen brigantines to be constructed in the coun- 
 try of Tlascala. which were to be carried piece- 
 meal overland, and re-put together and launched 
 on the Lake of Mexico. By this means he might 
 reasonably hope to hold the city closely invested, 
 and ultimately reduce it by famine if force should 
 fail. The work was carried on with such good- 
 will, that in the course of a few days the whole of 
 the timbers were cut down, shaped, and numbered, 
 in order that they might easily be fitted together 
 when they reached their destination. 
 
 Coadlavaca, the successor of Montezuma, having 
 died of smallpox shortly after the expulsion of the 
 Spaniards, the crown of Mexico was now worn by 
 Guatimotzin. "He was a young man of about 
 the age of twenty-five," says Bernal Diaz, " of el- 
 egant appearance, very brave, and so terrible to
 
 CORTEZ. 293 
 
 his own subjects that they all trembcd at the sight 
 of him." The new sovereign was aware that the 
 strife would be a deadly one, and he was not slack 
 in making ready to meet it. The capital was put 
 into a state of defence, the lake was crowded with 
 canoes, every nerve was strained to bring the peo- 
 ple into the field, and troops were despatched to 
 various quarters to encourage the loyal, repress the 
 disaffected, and impede the progress of the foe. 
 But the efforts of the monarch were partly neutral- 
 ized by the inveterate enmity of the Tlascalans and 
 other neighbouring tribes, the discontent which 
 prevailed in many of the provinces, and the dread- 
 ful ravages of the smallpox, which contributed 
 much to prevent his armies from assembling. 
 
 It was on the 28th of December, 1520, that the 
 Spaniards under Cortez, accompanied by ten thou- 
 sand Tlascalan allies, commenced their march to- 
 wards Tezcuco. At that city, which was seated 
 on the side of the lake opposite to Mexico, the 
 Spanish general determined to fix, for the present, 
 his headquarters. Though the bad roads through 
 the mountain. passes had been rendered worse by 
 cuts, dikes, and felled trees, so little active resist- 
 ance was made by the Mexicans that the invaders 
 reached Tezcuco without any loss. There Cortez 
 was welcomed by a party adverse to the reigning 
 prince, and he strengthened himself by raising to 
 the sovereignty a youth on whose subservience he 
 could rely. 
 
 The first operation undertaken by the Spaniards 
 did not terminate in an encouraging wanner. It 
 was directed against Iztapalapa, a town on the 
 southern shore of th ^ake, on the way to the Mex-
 
 294 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 lean capital. " Coadlavaca, late upon the throne of 
 Mexico," says Bernal Diaz, " was lord of Iztapalapa, 
 the people whereof were bitter enemies to us, and to 
 our declared allies of Chalco, Talmalanco, Mecam- 
 eca, and Chimaloacan. As we had been twelve 
 days in Tezcuco, so large a force caused some 
 scarcity of provisions ; idleness had also made our 
 allies grow impatient, and for these reasons it be- 
 came necessary to take the field. Cortez there- 
 fore proceeded towards Iztapalapa at the head of 
 thirteen cavalry, two hundred and twenty infantry, 
 and the whole body of our Indian confederates. 
 The inhabitants had received a re-enforcement of 
 eight thousand Mexicans, and as we approached 
 they fell back into the town. But this was all a 
 concerted plan : they then fled into their canoes, 
 among the reeds by the side of the lake, and also 
 to those houses which were in the water, where 
 they remained quiet, leaving us in possession of 
 that part of the town which was on the firm land. 
 As it was now night, we posted our guard, and were 
 reposing contentedly in our quarters, when all on a 
 sudden there came on us such a body of water by 
 the streets and into the houses, that if our friends 
 from Tezcuco had not called to us at that moment, 
 we should inevitably have been all drowned ; for 
 the enemy had cut the banks of the canals, and also 
 a causeway, whereby the place was laid under water 
 as it were instantaneously. As it happened, only 
 two of our allies lost their lives ; but all our pow- 
 der was destroyed, and we wer? glad to escape 
 with a good wetting. We passed the night badly 
 enough, being supperless and very cold ; but what 
 provoked us most was the laughter and mockings
 
 CORTEZ. 295 
 
 of the Indians upon the lake. Worse tl^an this, 
 however, happened to us, for large bodies fron the 
 garrison of Mexico, who knew of the plan, crossed 
 the water and fell upon us at daybreak with such 
 violence that it was with difficulty we could sustain 
 their attacks. They killed two soldiers and one 
 of our horses, and wounded a great many. Oui 
 allies also suffered a considerable loss on this oc 
 casion. The. enemy being at length beaten off, we 
 returned to Tezcuco in very bad humour, having 
 acquired little fame or advantage by our expedi- 
 tion/' 
 
 This check was, however, counterbalanced by 
 the voluntary submission of several neighbouring 
 districts, while the Mexicans were worsted in va- 
 rious skirmishes. The materials for the brigan- 
 tines being now ready in the country of the Tlas- 
 calans, Sandoval, with a considerable detachment 
 of Spaniards and natives, was despatched to that 
 quarter, to disperse such of the enemy's forces aa 
 might be in wait to interrupt the passage of the 
 convoy. On his way to the Tlascalan capital he 
 fell in with the Indians who were transporting the 
 timber to Tezcuco. Eight thousand men were em- 
 ployed in this service, as many more guarded them, 
 and two thousand were destined to relieve the 
 weary, and carry provisions for them all. The 
 line of march sometimes extended for six miles, 
 over a mountainous tract, and the whole distance 
 extended to sixty. The party, nevertheless, arrived 
 safely at Tezcuco, and the putting together of the 
 vessels was immediately commenced. While their 
 building was going on, it was necessary to keep a 
 strict watch ; for, clearly aware of the danger to be
 
 296 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 apprehended from them, the Mexicans made three 
 attempts to set them on fire. 
 
 As some time must yet elapse before the brigan- 
 tines could be completed, and as his Tlascalan allies 
 were eager for plunder, Cortez resolved upon an ex- 
 pedition against some of the towns in the vicinity 
 of the lake. Saltocan was taken, though not with- 
 out encountering much resistance. Culvatitlan and 
 Tenayuco were abandoned by the natives ; and the 
 invaders marched to Tacuba, which stood at the ex. 
 tremity of one of the causeways leading to the city 
 of Mexico. But here they met with a repulse : 
 " In this town our troops halted for the night," says 
 Bernal Diaz, " and on the next day they were as- 
 sailed by bodies of the enemy, who had settled a 
 plan to retreat by this causeway, in order to draw 
 us into an ambuscade. This in part succeeded : 
 Cortez and our troops pursued them across a bridge, 
 and were immediately surrounded by vast numbers 
 both on the land and water. The ensign was 
 thrown over the bridge, and the Mexicans were 
 dragging him to their canoes, yet he escaped from 
 them with his colours in his hand. In this attack 
 they killed five of our soldiers, and wounded many. 
 Cortez perceived his imprudence, and ordered a re- 
 treat, which was effected with regularity, our people 
 fronting the enemy, and only giving ground inch by 
 inch." After having halted for five days a f Tacuba, 
 Cortez fell baci? to Tezcuco, and allowed his allies 
 to return home for the purpose of securing their 
 plunder. 
 
 At this moment Cortez had quite enough upon 
 his hands. His troops were grown sickly, many 
 of them were for a time disabled by wounds, anc
 
 CORTEZ. 297 
 
 re-enforcements arrived but slowly. The Mexi- 
 cans, on the other hand, were actively exerting 
 themselves, and he was daily importuned by the 
 tribes in alliance with him, who " came with paint- 
 ed representations of the outrages committed on 
 them by the Mexicans, and imploring succour." 
 All he could immediately do for them was to prom- 
 ise future aid, advising them in the mean time to rely 
 more on their own exertions, and to unite with their 
 neighbours against the common enemy. As soon, 
 however, as his army was somewhat refreshed and 
 augmented, he began to act with greater vigour. 
 The Mexicans had directed their exertions against 
 the province of Chalco, with the view of interrupt- 
 ing his communication with Tlascala and the sea- 
 coast. To frustrate this scheme, Sandoval was 
 despatched from Tezcuco on the 12th of March 
 with a considerable force. He found the enemy 
 posted at a large town called Guaztepeque. San- 
 doval did indeed obtain transient possession of 
 the place, and this was all ; nor did he accomplish 
 even this without a hard struggle and serious loss. 
 The Mexicans fought bravely, returned often to 
 the charge in the course of the day, retreated only 
 a short distance, and were not pursued. Some 
 slaves, and a tolerable portion of plunder, were all 
 the trophies that Sandoval carried back to Tezcuco. 
 He was no sooner gone than the province of Chalco 
 was more in jeopardy than ever. 
 
 A seasonable supply of arms and ammunition hav- 
 ing arrived from Spain, Cortez resolved to march in 
 person to clear the district of Chalco, and recon- 
 noitre the country in its neighbourhood. He took 
 with him three hundred infantry, thirty cavOry, and
 
 298 PERILOUS ADVENTURES 
 
 a large body of auxiliary Indians. On reaching 
 Chimalacoan he was joined by above twenty thou- 
 sand native warriors, of whom Bernal Diaz bluntly 
 and no doubt truly says, " they certainly were at- 
 tracted by the hope of spoil, and a voracious appe- 
 tite for human flesh ; just as the scald crows and 
 other birds of prey follow armies in Italy, in ordei 
 to feed on the dead bodies after a battle." 
 
 It was the intention of Cortez to proceed from 
 Chalco along the southern end of the lesser lake to 
 Suchemileco, at the southwestern extremity of it, 
 and thence, as far as he might find expedient, to- 
 wards the principal lake. In pursuance of this de- 
 sign, he moved from Chalco to Guaztepeque, which 
 he found deserted. The Mexicans had taken up 
 an excellent position in the vicinity among the rocks, 
 and in two fortresses on the summits, the route of 
 the Spaniards lying between two ridges of these 
 rocks. On approaching one of the rude forts, 
 which was crowded with troops, they were greet- 
 ed with showers of stones and arrows, and with 
 shouts and insulting appellations. Stung by their 
 gibes, Cortez, with less of prudence than beseemed 
 a leader, gave orders for storming the post ; but he 
 had soon reason to repent his being so hasty. 
 While the Spaniards were vainly striving to scale 
 the rugged precipices, their adversaries were roll- 
 ing down upon them ponderous masses of rock 
 with irresistible effect. Against these missiles no 
 protection was afforded by helmet or shield ; where- 
 ever they struck, they inflicted death or desperate 
 wounds. Such was their force, that even on the 
 plain three of the cavalry were killed by them, 
 and seven severely hurt. The troops were there.
 
 CORTEZ. 299 
 
 fore withdrawn from this unadvised and hopeless 
 attack. 
 
 Leaving behind them this formidable post, the 
 Spaniards continued their march. But the Mexi- 
 cans, who had been lying in ambush, now sallied 
 forth upon them, and harassed them much before 
 they were repelled. Cortez had not gone more 
 than a league and a half when he found his pas- 
 sage barred by another fort, similar to that from 
 which he had just been repulsed. The men and 
 horses were by this time nearly sinking for want of 
 water, having had none during the day, and Cortez 
 therefore retraced his footsteps in the hope of find- 
 ing some. The labour was, however, lost ; for 
 the wells had been drained by the enemy, and 
 nothing but mud was left. The Spaniards were 
 now obliged to return towards the second fort, 
 near which, in a grove of mulberry trees, they at 
 last found a spring, from which they procured a 
 scanty but welcome supply. On the following 
 morning Cortez gave orders for an assault of the 
 mountain fastness. But in this instance he had 
 taken the precaution of placing a body of crossbow- 
 men and musketeers upon a rock which partly 
 commanded it, so as to distract the attention of the 
 garrison. The troops who were laboriously climb- 
 ing up the rocks were, however, suffering much 
 from the descending masses of stone, when, to 
 their great joy, they heard the besieged offer to 
 parley. It was no fear of their enemy, however, 
 but the utter privation of water, which induced 
 the Mexicans to make this offer. Cortez was glad 
 to let them depart unharreed, on condition that they 
 should prevail on the defenders of the other fort to
 
 300 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 follow their example. Bernal Diaz describes th? 
 post as an extensive plain on the summit of a nearl) 
 perpendicular rock, the entrance to which was by 
 an aperture not much larger than twice the size 
 of an oven's mouth. It was completely filled with 
 men, women, and children, with all their property 
 packed up in bales, and a considerable tribute which 
 was about to be sent to Guatimotzin. 
 
 Though he had removed these obstacles, Cortez 
 was under the necessity of falling back to Guaz- 
 tepeque, there being no water procurable at any 
 nearer place. On the morrow they pursued their 
 march towards Cuernabaca, and on their way de- 
 feated a body of Mexicans, and pillaged and partly 
 jurned the town of Teputzlan. They arrived next 
 day in sight of Cuernabaca, but access to it was 
 not of easy attainment. It was situated behind a 
 ravine of great depth, at the bottom of which flow, 
 ed a stream of water. The two bridges across 
 the ravine had been destroyed by the inhabitants. 
 " We all searched for passes," says Diaz, " and at 
 length discovered a very dangerous one, over some 
 trees which hung across from the two opposite 
 sides of the ravine. About thirty of us, and many 
 Tlascalans, made our way over by the help of those 
 trees with great difficulty : three fell into the wa- 
 ter, and one broke his leg. It was, indeed, a truly 
 frightful attempt ; I for a time entirely lost my 
 sight from the depth and danger." An attack un- 
 expectedly made on the enemy's flank by these des* 
 perate adventurers, seconded by a party of cavalry 
 which had contrived to pass over a half-destroyed 
 bridge, gave the Spaniards possession of the town. 
 
 All that the Spaniards had as yet undergone was,
 
 CORTEZ. 301 
 
 however, but child's play in comparison with that 
 which awaited them. The march to Suchimileco 
 was an exceedingly painful one. The weather was 
 intolerably sultry, not a drop of water was to be 
 procured, and many of the soldiers fainted and some 
 expired on the road from the want of it. Numbers 
 were seized with inflammation of the mouth and 
 throat, iu consequence of their having chewed a 
 noxious species of thistle to alleviate their thirst. 
 A scanty supply of the precious fluid was at last 
 obtained. News was now brought that the country 
 was everywhere rising around them, and the army 
 was therefore halted for the night : it spent the 
 hours of darkness amid a storm of wind and rain, 
 and in momentary expectation of being called into 
 action. 
 
 Early the next morning Cortez reached Suchi. 
 mileco. This large city stood partly on the land, 
 and partly, like other Mexican towns, in the water. 
 " I can give no idea," says Bernal Diaz, " of the 
 number of the enemy's troops that were gathered 
 here, they were in such vast bodies. They had 
 broken down the bridge which was in front, and 
 fortified themselves with parapets and palisades ; 
 their leaders were armed with swords which they 
 had taken from us in the fatal night of Mexico, and 
 which they had polished and made very bright." 
 The combat was speedily commenced. After a 
 fierce struggle of half an hour the bridge was carried 
 by the Spaniards. Before, however, they could en- 
 ter the place, they had another battle to tight with a 
 Mexican re-en forcetnent of ten thousand men which 
 had just arrived. Through this dense mass they 
 made their way, though they did not disperse it., and
 
 302 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 it continued to hang upon their flanks and rear. In 
 the town the conflict again raged with increased 
 fury. Every street was crowded with Indians, and 
 was obstinately disputed by them. Here ihe career 
 of'Cortez was nigh being brought to a sudden close. 
 His tired horse sank under him in the midst of the 
 Mexicans, and he was instantly wounded and drag, 
 ged down by them. They were hurrying him otf, 
 when Christoval de Olea came up to his rescue 
 with a body of Tlascalans. De Olea, at the ex- 
 pense of three severe wounds, succeeded in extrica- 
 ting and remounting his general. Yet even now 
 Cortez and his preserver would have been lost, so 
 vigorously were they pressed upon by their antag- 
 onists, had not a Spanish division from another 
 quarter been attracted thither by the clamour, and 
 arrived just in time to save them. This sharp en. 
 counter was closed by the enemy retiring to that 
 portion of the city which stood upon the lake. 
 
 But the victors, if so they may be called, soon 
 found that the contest was only suspended. Previ- 
 ous to his entering the town, Cortez had left two 
 divisions of his cavalry to secure his flanks from 
 the Mexicans, through whom he had forced a pas- 
 sage. While his men were in "an enclosed court, 
 dressing their wounds with burned oil, and tearing 
 rags to bind them." the cavalry came back, every 
 one of them wounded, and declared that they could 
 do nothing against the multitudes that were opposed 
 to them. At the moment when they were giving 
 this disheartening account, there was showered into 
 the court such a volley of Mexican arrows, that very 
 few of those who were in the enclosure escaped un- 
 hurt. The Spaniards sallied forth, bleeding as they
 
 CORTEZ. 303 
 
 were, and repelled the assailants, some loss being 
 sustained on both sides. The enemy now desisted 
 for a while from their attacks, and Cortez availed 
 himself of this breathing-time to post his men more 
 under cover, and to ascend to the summit of the tern- 
 pie for the purpose of reconnoitring. From that 
 elevated spot he had a view of Mexico and the whole 
 expanse of the lake ; but he saw nothing that could 
 gratify him. Above two thousand canoes, crowded 
 with soldiers, were swarming out of the Mexican 
 capital. From some prisoners he also learned that 
 ten thousand men were marching on the land side 
 for a nocturnal attack, and that ten thousand more 
 were ?.n readiness to support them. The night at- 
 tack, however, dwindled down into two or three 
 trifling alarms being given to the Spanish outposts. 
 The Mexican troops were unaccustomed to act in 
 the dark, and the consequence was that the various 
 divisions got into confusion, and the plan they had 
 formed was frustrated. 
 
 While the number of his enemies was thus in- 
 creasing, Cortez discovered that his own resources 
 were failing in a most essential article. His stock 
 of powder was exhausted, and the services of his 
 musketeers were of course no longer available. 
 To remedy this as much as possible, he directed a 
 store of arrows to be prepared, and the whole of the 
 night was spent in heading and feathering them. 
 With the dawn the enemy returned to the combat. 
 They were, indeed, repulsed ; but this afforded little 
 consolation to Cortez, for he learned from some of 
 the prisoners that it was the plan of the Mexicans 
 to wear out his troops by constantly renewed at. 
 tacks ; and such a plan, perseveringly followed up,
 
 304 PERILOUS ADVENTURES 
 
 could ouly terminate in his destruction. He there, 
 fore began to think of retreating. An incident now 
 occurred which tended to hasten such a movement. 
 Some of his men penetrated into the lake portion of 
 the city for the purpose of plundering. While they 
 were thus occupied they were set upon by a body 
 of Mexicans, who landed from canoes, wounded 
 many of them, and seized four, whom they carried 
 off to the capital. " From these men," says Bernal 
 Diaz, " Guatimotzin, the king of Mexico, was in- 
 formed of the smallness of our numbers, and otu 
 great loss in killed and wounded. After having 
 questioned them as much as he thought proper, he 
 commanded their hands and feet to be cut off, and 
 in this lamentable condition sent them through 
 many districts of the neighbourhood, as a sample ol 
 what he expected to do by us all ; and after having 
 thus exhibited them through the country, they were 
 put to death." 
 
 After a halt of four days at Suchimileco, during 
 which he was never allowed to rest by his active ad. 
 versaries, Cortez began his march towards Tezcuco. 
 Convinced of the manifold difficulties they would 
 have to encounter, he harangued his troops in the 
 market-place, and strongly urged on them the neces. 
 sity of freeing themselves from the dangerous en- 
 cumbrance of baggage. It was, he told them, a 
 matter of imperious necessity that they should leave 
 it all behind. But they had perilled their bodies 
 and souls to obtain the booty, and they stubbornly 
 replied that they were able to defend what they 
 had won, and that nothing should induce them to 
 forego it. The baggage was therefore placed in 
 the centre, the cavalry formed the van and rear
 
 CORTEZ. 305 
 
 guards, and the crossbowmen were stationed on the 
 flanks. 
 
 From the route which Cortez adopted, it is man- 
 ifest that the enemy had by this time so strongly 
 occupied the country behind him as to make it im- 
 possible for him to move in that direction ; for, in- 
 stead of retiring by the direct road of Chalco, he 
 determined to make the toilsome circuit of the lar- 
 gest portion of the Lake of Mexico.* Though they 
 were incessantly harassed by the enemy, the Span- 
 iards reached Cuyoacan without having sustained 
 any material loss. It would seem that the Mexi- 
 cans had expected them to withdraw by the Chalco 
 road, and in that expectation had weakened their 
 forces in this quarter. At Cuyoacan, which they 
 found deserted, they halted for two days, to prepare 
 arrows and rest their wounded. They then resu- 
 med their march, and had not proceeded far before 
 a misadventure befell them. Cortez, with a small 
 party of horse and four attendants, having dropped 
 behind to lay an ambuscade for the Mexicans, was 
 unlucky enough to be caught in one himself. Fall- 
 ing in with a detachment of the natives, they fled, 
 and he followed them so rashly that, ere he was 
 aware, a large body of warriors started out upon 
 
 * It has been supposed that Cortez returned the same way 
 that he advanced. This, however, is a mistake. Even were 
 there no direct evidence on the point, it is obvious that, under 
 his circumstances, he would not have lengthened his march one 
 half, and directed it through the heart of an enemy's territory, 
 had the much shorter road through the friendly province of 
 Chalco been practicable. But, though he does not state the 
 cause of his circuitous march, Bernal Diaz is explicit as to the 
 fact of such march having been made. From Suchimileco, 
 through Cuyoacan, Tacuba, Ezcapuzalco, Tenayuco, Quatillan, 
 and Aculman to Tezcuco, is the route by which he states Cor 
 tez to have retreated. 
 2420
 
 306 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 him. The horses were all wounded at the first 
 onset, two of the attendants of Cortez were car- 
 ried off to be sacrificed, and the rest of the party 
 narrowly escaped a similar fate. Missing their 
 commander, several of his officers set out from 
 Tacuba in search of him, and in a short time he 
 came up to them, " very sad, and weeping." 
 
 The retrograde march of the Spaniards was 
 rendered more painful by the coming on of a del- 
 uge of rain. On their way to Tacuba, and for 
 some time after their arrival there, they had to en- 
 dure all its violence. As soon as the troops were 
 distributed in their quarters, Cortez and some of his 
 officers ascended to the top of the temple, to take a 
 survey of the surrounding country. Here a curi- 
 ous proof occurred of the facility with which men, 
 especially when they are stimulated by fanaticism 
 and a love of gain, can cheat their own conscien- 
 ces. " All of us," says Bernal Diaz, " agreed in 
 giving glory to God for making us the instruments 
 of such services." The reverend father also con- 
 soled Cortez, who was very sad on account of his 
 late loss ! " When we contemplated the scenes of 
 our disasters in Mexico, which we could well trace 
 from where we stood, it made Cortez much more 
 sad than before. It was on this that the romance 
 was written which begins, 
 
 4 In Tacuba was Cortez, with many a gallant chief; 
 He thought upon his losses, and bow'd his head with grief.' " 
 
 By some of the more adventurous of the band, 
 it was now proposed to push forward a reconnoi- 
 tring party along the causeway which led to Mex- 
 ico. This movement, which could at best have 
 been productive but of a fruitless waste of life, and
 
 CORTEZ. 307 
 
 which might have led to fatal consequences, was 
 negatived by the most prudent of the leaders. The 
 retreat was therefore resumed through the aban- 
 doned cities of Ezcapuzalco and Tenayuco to 
 Quatitlan, where the army halted for the night, the 
 soldiers being so exhausted by the continual rain 
 and the weight of their arms that they could pro- 
 ceed no farther. Such was their lassitude and the 
 severity of the weather, that, though the enemy hov- 
 ered round and annoyed them, the common milita- 
 ry precaution of visiting the outposts was entirely 
 neglected. Luckily for the Spaniards, no serious 
 attack was made upon them ; and, after struggling 
 for two days more through roads deep in mud, they 
 reached Aculman, in the district of Tezcuco. 
 There their hearts were cheered by the sight of a 
 re-enforcement which had newly arrived from Cas- 
 tile. They closed their retreat on the following 
 day at Tezcuco, " fatigued, worn out, and diminish' 
 ed in numbers." 
 
 Cortez had been only two days at Tezcuco when 
 he received the startling intelligence that his life 
 was in more peril from some of his followers than 
 it had lately been from the Mexicans. He learned 
 that a formidable conspiracy was on foot against 
 him. The contriver of it was Antonia de Villefa- 
 na, one of the soldiers of Narvaez, and he had 
 drawn into it numbers of his comrades, and even 
 many of the original companions of Cortez. They 
 were weary of their toils, and hopeless of success 
 in the coming contest; and, as all cowards are 
 cruel, they basely determined to end their perils 
 and privations by the murder of their commander, 
 and of all those officers who remained faithful to 
 A A
 
 308 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 him. " The assassination," says Bernal Diaz, \\ h'o 
 was himself to have been among the victims, " was 
 to have been accomplished in the following manner. 
 A vessel having lately arrived from Castile, a letter 
 was to be brought to the general as from his father, 
 and as if it had come by that opportunity, which 
 letter was to be delivered as he sat at table with 
 his officers and soldiers ; and when he had opened 
 and was in the act of reading it, the conspirators 
 were to fall on and despatch him with their pon- 
 iards, together with all of us who were in his com- 
 pany." 
 
 This nefarious plot was timely disclosed to Cor- 
 tez by one of his trusty soldiers, whom the con- 
 spirators had attempted to seduce. In this emer- 
 gency Cortez acted with admirable promptitude, 
 presence of mind, and good policy. Villafana was 
 instantly seized, while he was in council with some 
 of his companions in guilt, was brought to trial, 
 and hanged out of the window of his own apart- 
 ment. From his confession, and still more fully 
 from a paper found on him, Cortez learned the 
 names of all who had signed the treasonable asso- 
 ciation, and among them he saw, with equal grief 
 and surprise, those of many persons in whom he 
 had been accustomed to place an implicit confi- 
 dence. His situation at this moment was one of 
 extreme difficulty. It might be dangerous, and, at 
 all events, must cripple his future operations, if he 
 should attempt to bring the numerous delinquents 
 to justice ; and there was scarcely less danger in 
 their knowing that he was aware of their guilt, as 
 they would then live in constant dread of his ven- 
 geance, and might be tempted to form new plots to
 
 CORTEZ. 309 
 
 destroy the object of their fears. Cortez, there- 
 fore, wisely spread a report that Villafana had 
 swallowed the paper which contained the names of 
 his confederates ; and, that this report might ob. 
 tain credit, he continued to treat the frustrated 
 traitors with apparently undiminished confidence 
 and kindness. He took care, however, to keep a 
 watchful eye upon them, and also availed himself 
 of this opportunity to form a guard for his person, 
 consisting of soldiers on whose fidelity he could 
 rely. 
 
 Equal praise, however, cannot be given to Cor- 
 tez for his conduct in another case which soon af- 
 terward occurred. It has been seen* that the 
 younger Xicotenga, who was now become the 
 Tlascalan commander-in-chief, was gifted with 
 more foresight than his compatriots, and that he 
 consequently deprecated the alliance with the Span- 
 /ards, into which they had been led by their blind 
 hatred of their Mexican neighbours. Quitting the 
 Tlascalan troops while they were on their march 
 to join Cortez, he now returned to Tlascala. It 
 was charged against him that he did so for the 
 purpose of seizing the property and territory of 
 Chichimacatecle, another chief who was friendly 
 to Cortez. But his real offence seems to have 
 been his repugnance to seeing his countrymen made 
 the tools of a foreign invader. Cortez immediate, 
 ly despatched several chiefs to summon him back. 
 " His answer was," says Bernal Diaz, " that if Max- 
 icatzin and his old father had believed him, they 
 would not be now ridden by Cortez in the manner 
 they were, and he absolutely refused to return. 
 * Page 290.
 
 310 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 This answer being sent back to Cortez, he com- 
 manded an alguazil, attended by four of the cavalry 
 and five of the chiefs of Tezcuco, to set out im- 
 mediately, giving them orders, wherever they found 
 Xicotenga, to seize and hang him without ceremo- 
 ny. Alvarado interceded strongly for him, but ul- 
 timately to no purpose ; for, although Cortez appear- 
 ed to listen to him, the party which arrested Xico- 
 tenga in a town subject to Tezcuco, there hung 
 him, under private orders of Cortez not to let him 
 go from them alive, and, as some say, with the ap. 
 probation of his father." This was a foul murder, 
 and the friends of Xicotenga would have been fully 
 justified in consigning Cortez to the gibbet had he 
 chanced to fall into their hands. 
 
 The brigantines were at length completed, and 
 the canal along which they were to be floated into 
 the lake was enlarged to a sufficient width and 
 depth. Crews were selected for them from among 
 such of his followers as had been accustomed to 
 the sea, and a proportion also of crossbowmen and 
 musketeers was embarked in each vessel. It was 
 not without much murmuring, however, that his 
 men submitted to what they considered as a deg- 
 radation, the handling of an oar. But Cortez 
 would admit of no excuse even though some of 
 them pleaded their gentilly as an unanswerable 
 objection. He next sent orders to the surrounding 
 districts to supply him with eight thousand copper 
 arrow-heads, and as many shafts of a particular 
 kind of wood. The men were likewise directed 
 to point their lances, provide themselves with extra 
 cords to their bows, ascertain the range of their 
 missiles, and exercise their horses daily. Powder
 
 CORTEZ. 311 
 
 he had recently received from Spain Strict reg- 
 ulations were at the same time promulgated for the 
 maintenance of discipline. Lastly, messengers 
 were despatched to summon all his allies to meet 
 him on a certain day. Seventy thousand Indians 
 are said to have been brought into the field by this 
 summons. On the day after the festival of the 
 Holy Ghost he reviewed his European troops ; 
 they consisted of eighty-four cavalry, six hundred 
 and fifty infantry armed with sword and buckler or 
 lances, and a hundred and ninety-four musketeers 
 and bowmen, with three iron cannon and fifteen 
 small brass fieldpieces. 
 
 In the latter end of May Cortez put his forces 
 in motion towards the Mexican capital. That city 
 being approachable on the land side only by its 
 causeways, the Spanish general divided his army 
 into three parts, which were to push forward their 
 attacks simultaneously along three of these cause- 
 ways, and to be supported by the flotilla of brigan- 
 tines, which was also divided into three squadrons. 
 Each of the divisions consisted of about a hundred 
 and fifty infantry, thirty cavalry, eighteen musket- 
 eers and crossbowmen, and eight thousand native 
 auxiliaries. Alvarado, with the first, was to ad- 
 vance from Tacuba; De Oli, with the second, from 
 Cuyoacan ; and Sandoval, with the third, from Iz- 
 tapalapa. The flotilla was commanded by Cortez 
 in person. 
 
 The divisions of Alvarado and De Oli, which 
 were stationed nearest to each other, were the first 
 to commence operations. Uniting together, they 
 succeeded in destroying the pipes by which fresh 
 water was conveyed into the city from the aque-
 
 312 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 duct of Chepultapeque. Elated with this success, 
 they resolved to gain an immediate footing on the 
 causeway of Tacuba. But they had overrated 
 their strength. The enemy had on their side a 
 superior force and equal courage. Diaz declares 
 that the immense number of their boats, and of 
 their troops upon the land, was a subject of aston- 
 ishment. The first flight of Mexican arrows killed 
 three and wounded thirty men. The Spaniards, 
 nevertheless, pressed on, while the natives artfully 
 fell back till they had drawn them to some distance 
 on the causeway, which was only twenty feet wide. 
 There the assailants were opposed in front by ene- 
 mies behind parapets, and armed with long lances ; 
 and on their flanks by swarms of warriors in ca- 
 noes. The canoes themselves were so well barri- 
 caded that no impression could be made upon them 
 by the crossbow or the musket. After a hopeless 
 struggle of an hour's duration, the Spanish troops 
 were compelled to retire, with heavy loss, closely 
 pursued by the Mexicans. For the four or five 
 succeeding days they were harassed in their quar- 
 ters by desultory attacks, and, had their weakness 
 been known to the Mexicans, their ruin might per- 
 haps have ensued ; for De OH, who was at vari- 
 ance with Alvarado, had refused to remain with 
 him, and the flotilla was not yet at hand to support 
 them. 
 
 Sandoval, at the outset, was scarcely more for. 
 tunate. His march to Iztapalapa was for the 
 most part through a friendly territory, but when 
 he reached that city he found antagonists prepared 
 to receive him. Iztapalapa was one of the places 
 which were built partly on the shore of the lake
 
 CORTEZ. 313 
 
 and partly in the water. Sandoval immediately 
 attacked the natives, and burned several of the 
 houses on the mainland. Fresh bodies of Mexi- 
 cans, however, came up both by land and water, 
 and he was engaged in a doubtful struggle to main, 
 tain his ground, when he perceived a smoke rise 
 from a hill behind the town, which was answered 
 from other points around the lake. The enemy 
 immediately began to retreat, being wanted in an- 
 other quarter : the smoke was for a signal that the 
 Spanish brigantines had entered the lake. Sando- 
 val was consequently left in possession of that part 
 of the town which he had gained. In the course 
 of a few days he made an attempt to advance upon 
 the causeway, and master that part of the town 
 which was situated in the water. But the Mexi- 
 cans sent a large body of troops to cut the cause- 
 way behind him, and he would have been in great 
 jeopardy had not the Spanish general ordered De 
 Oli to succour him, and sailed himself with the 
 brigantines for the same purpose. Finding that an 
 attack upon the capital from this side would be ex- 
 posed to many difficulties, Cortez now removed 
 Sandoval from Iztapalapa, and stationed him at 
 Tepeaco, where the northern causeway joins the 
 mainland. 
 
 The bringing of the flotilla into action was soon 
 productive of considerable advantage to the be- 
 siegers. It linked together the operations of the 
 Spanish divisions, covered their flanks, and render- 
 ed difficult and more scanty, though it could not 
 wholly prevent, the supply of men and provisions 
 to the Mexican capital. The Mexicans were not 
 blind to this danger, and they left no means untried
 
 314 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 to avert it : nor was there any lack of ingenuity 
 in some of their devices. At first they hoped to 
 overcome the enemy by close fighting. Accord, 
 ingly, as soon as the brigantines made their ap- 
 pearance upon the lake, the Mexicans hastened 
 to meet them. The number of their canoes, filled 
 with warriors, is said to have exceeded four thou- 
 sand. Perceiving that a breeze was about to 
 spring up, Cortez drew his vessels into au open 
 part of the lake ; and, as soon as the wind had be- 
 come sufficiently strong, he ordered every sail to be 
 spread, and the oars to be vigorously plied. The 
 weight and velocity of the brigantines were irre- 
 sistible. The frail canoes were unable to with- 
 stand the shock, and their numbers only added to 
 their confusion and loss. They were broken 
 through and scattered in all directions ; very many 
 were sunk and all the crews drowned, while the 
 remainder were glad to find shelter in the shallow 
 water and creeks, whither the Spaniards were un- 
 able to follow them. Yet, undismayed by this dis- 
 aster, they soon after ventured to iall upon Cortez 
 at Cuyoacan. They were again routed ; but du- 
 ring the action the powder magazine in the vessel 
 of Cortez was blown up, ar.d many of his men 
 were wounded. Force failing them, they had now 
 recourse to stratagem. Two of the brigantines 
 being ordered to cruise during the night, for the 
 purpose of cutting off supplies from the city, the 
 enemy formed a plan for making themselves mas- 
 ters of them. Among the tall reeds of the lake 
 they concealed thirty of their largest piraguas, and 
 drove large beams of timber under water in vari. 
 oiis places. Two or thre^ canoes, apparently la
 
 COHTEZ. 315 
 
 den with provisions, were then sent out as a bait. 
 The brigantines fell into the snare : they eagerly 
 pursued the canoes, and were led by them among 
 the labyrinth of hidden piles. Enclosed in this 
 trap, it was impossible to manoeuvre or escape. 
 Out rushed the thirty piraguas, and the first volley 
 from them wounded every soul on board of the de- 
 voted vessels. The Spaniards fought desperately, 
 but were compelled to surrender. Encouraged by 
 this success, the Mexicans soon after planned an 
 ambuscade on a larger scale. It might, perhaps, 
 have answered its purpose, had not the scheme 
 been betrayed by a prisoner, when Cortez, in 
 turn, arranged a counter-ambuscade. A detected 
 stratagem generally recoils on its contriver, and 
 it did so in this instance. The Mexicans were de- 
 feated with great loss in killed and prisoners, many 
 of their canoes were run down, and many were 
 taken. This action not only put a stop to their 
 attempts to recover the supremacy by water, but 
 also rendered them less daring in the conveyance 
 of supplies to the city, and induced many of the 
 towns on the lake to make their submission to 
 Cortez. 
 
 We must now revert to the operations of the 
 land forces. The task which these troops had to 
 perform was more wearisome, protracted, and per- 
 ilous than that which fell to the lot of their com- 
 rades in the brigantines. Day after day, week after 
 week, the same monotonous and apparently fruit- 
 less toil was to be undergone. Their labour seem- 
 ed like that wasted on the fabled web of Penelope. 
 Bernal Diaz presents a striking picture of it. 
 " We drove them from several bridges and barri-
 
 316 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 3ades," says he ; " but, after fighting during the 
 whole day, we were obliged at night to retreat to 
 our quarters, almost every man of us wounded by 
 the showers of arrows and stones, which exceeded 
 imagination ; for we were attacked constantly by 
 fresh troops, bearing different devices, by land, 
 while from the terraces of the houses the enemy 
 commanded our ships. As we could not leave a 
 party to secure what we got in the day, at night 
 the enemy repossessed themselves of the bridges, 
 and put better defences on them. They deepened 
 the water in some places, and in the shallow part 
 they dug pits, and placed canoes in ambuscade, 
 which they secured from the attack of our vessels 
 by palisades under the water. This was the man- 
 ner in which they opposed us every day. The 
 cavalry, as I before observed, could do nothing ; 
 the enemy had built parapets across the causeways, 
 which they defended with long lances ; and even 
 had an attack been practicable, the soldiers would 
 not risk their horses, which at this time cost eight 
 hundred crowns, and some more than a thousand, 
 nor, indeed, were they to be had at any price." 
 He concludes this description with an amusing 
 trait of superstition and credulity. " When we 
 arrived at night, we were employed in curing our 
 wounds ; and a soldier named Juan Catalan also 
 healed them by charms and prayers, which, with 
 the mercy of our Lord Jesus, recovered us very 
 fast. But wounded or not, we were obliged to go 
 against the enemy every day, as otherwise our 
 companies would not have been twenty men strong. 
 When our allies saw that the before-mentioned sol. 
 dier cured us by charms and prayers, all theii
 
 CORTEZ. 317 
 
 wounded came to him, so that he had more busi- 
 ness on his hands than he knew what to do with." 
 
 Tired of gaining ground in the day and losing it 
 at night, the besiegers adopted a new plan. There 
 was on the Tacuba causeway a small open space, 
 containing some buildings for religious worship. 
 There the division of Alvarado at last succeeded 
 in establishing itself, leaving the cavalry and allies 
 to keep open the communication with Tacuba, 
 whence they were supplied with bread. In future 
 it was intended to fill up the causeways, and to de- 
 stroy the insulated houses in the water as fast as 
 they were gained; the materials from the latter 
 serving to throw into the canals, and to widen the 
 ground upon which the troops were acting. In the 
 work of demolition and filling up the allies were 
 employed, and their services were in this way 
 more effectual than any they could render with 
 their weapons. 
 
 The Mexicans, on their part, were so far from 
 being idle, that their attacks compelled the besie- 
 gers to keep a large portion of their men under 
 arms the whole night, and the rest ready for action 
 at a moment's notice. At times, the entire Span- 
 ish division on the Tacuba causeway was obliged 
 to remain under arms throughout the hours of dark- 
 ness. It was against this point that the Mexicans 
 bent their principal efforts. Their intention was 
 to assail it on all sides, and make themselves mas- 
 ters of Tacuba, which contained the baggage and 
 bakery of the hostile army. For several nights 
 in succession they made onsets upon Alvarado's 
 troops, from midnight to daybreak. All this, how- 
 ever, was only meant to weaken and weary their
 
 318 PERILOUS ADVENTURES 
 
 antagonists preparatory to a more desperate strug- 
 gle. To give effect to that struggle, art was 
 brought in aid of strength. "The Mexicans," 
 says the honest chronicler, " opposed our progress 
 by breaking a bridge in the rear of their parapets 
 and barricades, where the water was very deep, 
 leaving one obvious pass as a decoy, and in other 
 parts pitfalls under the water ; they also made par- 
 apets on both sides of the breach, they placed pal- 
 isades in the deep water where our vessels could 
 approach, and they had canoes manned ready to 
 sally out upon the signal given. When they had 
 made these preparations, they advanced against us 
 in three bodies, one by the side of Tacuba, anoth- 
 er by the ruins of the houses which had been de- 
 stroyed, and the third by the causeway where they 
 had contrived their plan to entrap us. Alvarado 
 had brought part of his cavalry to our post since 
 the houses were destroyed. We repulsed the ene- 
 my on all sides ; and one party of us, having for- 
 ced them from the works I have mentioned, cross- 
 ed the water, up to our necks, at the pass they had 
 left open, and followed them until we came to a 
 place where were large temples and towers of idols. 
 Here we were assailed by fresh troops from the 
 houses and roofs, and those whom we were pursu- 
 ing faced about and came against us, so that we 
 were obliged to retreat, which we did with regular- 
 ity; but when we came to the water, we found 
 that the enemy in their canoes had got possession 
 of the pass where we had crossed. We were 
 therefore obliged to look for other places ; but, as 
 they came pressing on us, we were at length com- 
 pelled to throw ourselves into the lake and get
 
 CORTEZ. 319 
 
 over as we could. Those who were not able to 
 awim fell into the pits ; the enemy closed in upon 
 them, wounded most, and took five of them alive. 
 The vessels which came to our relief could not ap- 
 proach, being embarrassed among the palisades, 
 and here they lost two soldiers. It was a wonder 
 we were not all destroyed in the pitfalls ; a number 
 of the enemy laid hands on me, but our Lord Jesus 
 Christ gave me force to disengage my arm, and by 
 dint of a good sword I got free from them, though 
 wounded, and arrived on the dry ground, where I 
 fainted away, and remained senseless for a time. 
 This was owing to my great exertions and loss of 
 blood. After this success the enemy kept us con- 
 stantly employed day and night, by attacks upon 
 our posts." 
 
 Cortez now endeavoured to carry an outpost 
 which was of so much importance to the city that 
 it had been strongly fortified. It was vigorously 
 defended both by land and water ; but Cortez, who 
 led the attack in person, at length obtained posses- 
 sion of it. He was, however, ultimately obliged to 
 retire, with considerable loss, and without having 
 been able to fill up the deep canal which was in 
 front of the work. The terraced houses in the vi- 
 cinity commanded the position, and the palisades 
 prevented the brigantines from acting in conjunc- 
 tion with the troops. For a few days after this 
 event, Cortez was too much occupied in defending 
 himself to think of offensive warfare. Guatimotzin 
 had resolved to try whether the Spaniards might not 
 be worn out by a series of almost unintermitted at- 
 tacks upon them. These attacks were commen- 
 ced simultaneously by land and water, two hours
 
 320 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 before daylight on the 21st of June, against all the 
 Spanish divisions : they were continued for the two 
 following nights, and ended in a combined assault 
 by the whole Mexican force upon Alvarado's divis- 
 ton. These desperate onsets, especially the last, 
 were not repelled without much difficulty and no 
 inconsiderable loss. 
 
 It was now July, and the Spaniards, though they 
 had been six weeks before the Mexican capital, 
 had made but little progress. Grown impatient 
 from his want of success, Cortez now formed the 
 desperate resolution of endeavouring to carry the 
 city by a general assault. His intention was to 
 push forward along the three causeways, and reach, 
 if possible, the great square, the possession of which 
 would, he thought, enable him to command all the 
 streets which led to it. In the council of war which 
 he called on this occasion, the scheme was strongly 
 opposed by several of his officers. They urged 
 that if they should even succeed in reaching the 
 great square, they would then be only in the same 
 situation as when they were expelled from Mexico, 
 with the additional disadvantage of having to con- 
 tend against a more numerous force ; and that this 
 time the enemy would perhaps effectually preclude 
 their retreat by cutting the causeways behind them. 
 It was therefore more prudent to adhere to the slow 
 but sure system of destroying the houses and filling 
 up the canals as they went along, thus gradually 
 gaining a firm footing. They were, however, over- 
 ruled by a majority of the council, and it was deter- 
 mined that the plan of Cortez should be carried into 
 execution by the whole of the Spanish and allied 
 force.
 
 CORTEZ. 321 
 
 This ill-advised adventure had the result which 
 the minority anticipated. At first, the division led 
 by Cortez in person met with less violent opposi- 
 tion than was experienced by the other two. But 
 this apparent slackness of the enemy was only a 
 feint tc draw on their adversaries. The Mexicans 
 had narrowed the causeway, which was also cover- 
 ed with water in some places and deep in mud, ana 
 had got everything in readiness to fall upon the 
 Spaniards at the proper moment. Cortez himself 
 added to the danger by neglecting to give orders for 
 filling up the ditches he had passed. No sooner 
 had he reached a certain point, than multitudes of 
 canoes sallied forth and took him in flank and rear, 
 his own vessels being unable to succour him on ac- 
 count of the palisades. A retreat was in conse- 
 quence ordered, which was conducted with tolerable 
 regularity till the Spaniards arrived at a narrow 
 pass, where their assailants fell upon them with ten- 
 fold fury. " The retreat," says Diaz, " was turned 
 into a race, our people flying before the enemy with- 
 out attempting to defend themselves." Cortez 
 tried to rally them, but in vain. He was now in 
 imminent peril; already wounded in the leg, he was 
 seized upon by six Mexican chiefs, and must have 
 fallen a victim had he not been saved by the valour 
 of Lerma and De Oli. The latter paid with his life 
 for the rescue of his commander ; he was slain, after 
 having killed four of the chiefs with his own hand. 
 The liberated general was dragged out of the water, 
 mounted on horseback, and hurried off to his quar- 
 ters. Seventy-two Spaniards fell alive into the 
 hands of the Mexice.ns, and the slaughter made 
 among the allies was mmense.
 
 322 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 No better fortune attended the division led by 
 Alvarado. The first dike which it attacked was 
 so obstinately defended that above a thousand of 
 the allies were slain or hurt, one of the Span- 
 iards was killed, and most of them were wounded. 
 The dike was nevertheless carried. But here 
 ended the success of this column. " As we were 
 advancing," says Diaz, " we were met by fresh 
 troops in great parade, bearing plumes of feathers, 
 and devices on their standards. When we came 
 near them, they threw down before us five bleeding 
 heads, crying out to us that they were those of 
 Cortez and his officers, and that we should meet 
 the same fate as our companions ; they then march- 
 ed up, and fighting us foot to foot, compelled us to 
 retreat. We, as usual, called to our allies to make 
 way for us, but in the present case there was no 
 occasion ; the sight of the bloody heads had done it 
 effectually, nor did one of them remain on the cause- 
 way to impede our retreat. Before we arrived 
 at our quarters, and while the enemy were pursu- 
 ing us, we heard their shrill tymbals, and the dis- 
 mal sound of the great drum, from the top of the 
 principal temple of the god of war, which overlook- 
 ed the whole city. Its mournful noise was such 
 as may be imagined the music of the infernal gods, 
 and it might be heard at the distance of almost 
 three leagues. They were then sacrificing the 
 hearts of ten of our companions to their idols. 
 Shortly after this the King of Mexico's horn was 
 blown, giving notice to his captains that they were 
 then to take their enemies prisoners, or perish in 
 the attempt. It is impossible to describe the fury 
 with which they closed upon us when they heard
 
 CORTEZ. 323 
 
 this signal. Though all is as perfect to my recol- 
 lection as if passing before my eyes, it is utterly 
 beyond my power to describe ; all I can say is, it 
 was God's will that we should escape from their 
 hands, and get back in safety to our post. Praised 
 be He for his mercies, now and at all other times !" 
 
 The column headed by Sandoval suffered the 
 least of the three. He seems to have been allow, 
 ed to advance with only slender opposition, till the 
 fate of the two other columns was decided. The 
 moment that was ascertained, the Mexicans turned 
 upon him with the utmost fury, wounded him in 
 three places, killed two of his men at the first dis- 
 charge, and wounded all the test. Six Spanish 
 heads were also thrown before his soldiers, accom- 
 panied by loud threats that they should soon be 
 treated in the same manner as their companions 
 had been. Sandoval, however, retained all his 
 presence of mind, and succeeded in keeping his 
 men to their ranks, and in bringing them off with 
 but inconsiderable loss. 
 
 The post of Sandoval on the mainland was left 
 in comparative quiet, but not so those which were 
 occupied by Alvarado and Cortez : they were as- 
 sailed with the utmost fury by the victors. Into 
 the quarters of Cortez they threw four heads, 
 which they said were those of Sandoval, Alvarado, 
 and two other officers. At Tacuba the Spanish 
 division would probably have been overpowered 
 but for the fire of two guns which raked the cause- 
 way. Yet, in spite of the deadly discharges from 
 these cannon, the natives persisted in pressing on. 
 One of the brigantines had fallen into their power, 
 but it was subsequently recovered. Of the canoes 
 BB
 
 324 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 belonging to the allies, one half were taken 01 de. 
 stroyed. Sandoval, who had come to inquire what 
 was the real situation of Cortez, was now despatch, 
 ed by him to Tacuba, to assist in repelling the 
 Mexicans. A short pause ensued in the contest 
 soon after his arrival at that position. "Here," 
 says Bernal Diaz, " we were for a time at rest, 
 and engaged in relating the events which had hap- 
 pened at each post, when on a sudden our ears 
 were struck by the horrific sound of the great drum, 
 the tymbals, horns, and trumpets, in the temple of 
 the god of war. We all directed our eyes thither, 
 and, shocking to relate, saw our unfortunate coun- 
 trymen driven by force, cuffs, and bastinades to 
 the place where they were to be sacrificed, which 
 bloody ceremony was accompanied by the mourn- 
 ful sound of all the instruments of the temple. We 
 perceived that when they had brought the unfortu. 
 nate victims to the flat summit of the body of the 
 temple, where the sacrifices were offered, they put 
 plumes upon their heads, and with a kind of fan 
 in the hand of each, made them dance before theii 
 accursed idols. When they had done this, they 
 laid them on their backs, upon the stone used foi 
 the purpose, where they cut out their hearts, alive, 
 and having presented them, yet palpitating, to their 
 gods, they drew the bodies down the steps by the 
 feet, when they were taken by others of their 
 priests. Let the reader think what were our sen- 
 sations on this occasion." This horrible and dis- 
 gusting sight had a powerful and lasting effect upon 
 him. " From this time," says Diaz, " I feared that 
 cruel death ; and this I mention l>ecause, before I 
 went into battle, I felt a great depression and unea-
 
 CORTEZ. 325 
 
 nnoss about my heart ; and then recommending 
 myself to God and our blessed Lady, the instant I 
 was engaged with the enemy it left me." 
 
 This reverse suspended for a while the progress 
 \>f the Spaniards. For four days Cortez contented 
 himself with endeavouring to keep the ground 
 which he had previously gained. Even in this he 
 did not quite succeed, for the Mexicans compelled 
 him to recede at some points, while at the same 
 time they strengthened their own defences. A cir- 
 cumstance now occurred which placed the invaders 
 in a very embarrassing situation, and might have 
 proved fatal to them. During their incessant at- 
 tacks on the Spanish posts, the Mexicans taunted 
 their enemies, and exultingly told them that the 
 gods had promised their destruction within eighi 
 days. This denunciation produced such an effect 
 upon the Tlascalans and other allies, that in the 
 course of one night nearly the whole of them de- 
 serted. Had the priests, by whom this assurance 
 was given to the people, been wise enough to fix a 
 more distant period for the downfall of their foes, 
 the prediction might perhaps have worked its own 
 fulfilment, as without auxiliaries it would have 
 been almost impossible for the Spaniards to con. 
 tend against the multitudes that surrounded them. 
 But, by limiting the term of the prediction to eight 
 days, the priests deprived themselves of the advan. 
 lages they might have otherwise secured. Cortez 
 saw this error, and turned it to account. Commit- 
 ting nothing to chance, he confined himself to hold, 
 ing the Mexicans at bay till the ominous time had 
 passed by. His policy was successful. When 
 the allies found that not only eight days, but several
 
 326 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 more, had elapsed without the Spaniards having 
 been destroyed, they were convinced that the Mex- 
 ican deities were unworthy of belief, and they again 
 thronged around the standard of Cortez. 
 
 From this time Cortez acted with more method 
 and caution than he had hitherto done. It is sin- 
 gular that the proper plan should have been pointed 
 out to him by a native warrior. This was Suchei, 
 a very brave man, brother to the lord of Tezcuco : 
 he had been baptized, and was known under the 
 name of Don Carlos. He was much attached to 
 the Spaniards, and was one of the very few who 
 had not been frightened away by the denunciations 
 of the Mexican oracles. He did not hesitate to 
 remonstrate with Cortez on his imprudent conduct. 
 " Cut off," said he, " their provisions and water : 
 there are in Mexico so many xiquipils of warriors, 
 and how can they subsist ? Their provisions must 
 at some time be expended ; the water which they 
 get from the wells is salt ; and they have no re- 
 source but from the frequent rains. Fight them 
 by hunger and thirst, and do not throw away your 
 own force." "Cortez," says Diaz, "embraced 
 him for his advice ; not that the same had not oc- 
 curred to many of us before, but we were too im- 
 patient." Men, however, who could suffer impa- 
 tience to get the better of discretion, were manifest- 
 ly deficient in one of the qualities most essential 
 to military leaders. 
 
 The first step taken by Cortez was to obtain a 
 more complete command of the lake, so as to cir- 
 cumscribe within narrower bounds the Mexican op. 
 erations and supplies. In this he was successful. 
 Two brigantines were always cruising in company
 
 CORTEZ. 327 
 
 and they were constantly intercepting canoes laden 
 with provisions and water for the city. The cap- 
 tains of his vessels also discovered a mode of break- 
 ing through the enemy's palisades, by dint of sails 
 and oars, and were thus enabled to cover the flanks 
 of the Spanish troops, and to harass those of the 
 Mexicans. This was an important advantage. 
 Strict care was now taken to fill up the canals and 
 ditches, and to level and enlarge the ground as fast 
 as the besiegers advanced, even Cortez himself 
 carrying beams and earth for that purpose. The 
 heavy rains, too, however unpleasant they might 
 be, were of service to the Spaniards, as during 
 such weather the Mexicans always relaxed in their 
 exertions. Thus the assailants worked forward, 
 slowly but surely, " gaining every day a bridge or 
 a parapet." In this manner each of the three at- 
 tacks was considerably advanced towards the city, 
 till at length the Spaniards reached some fountains, 
 which they cut off; their cavalry could likewise 
 act freely throughout the whole of the space which 
 they had won. 
 
 The progress which he was now making indu- 
 ced Cortez to hope that the Mexicans would listen 
 to proposals. He therefore despatched three of 
 his principal prisoners with a message to Guati- 
 motzin : a mission which they undertook with no 
 small degree of reluctance. In this communica- 
 tion Cortez dwelt upon the sufferings and dangers 
 to which the Mexicans were exposed, his wish to 
 prevent the loss of lives and the destruction of the 
 city, and the affection which he bore to all the fam. 
 ily of the great Montezuma ! The Mexican mon- 
 arch summoned a council of nobles and priests to
 
 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 deliberate upon the propositions of the enemy. 
 Brave though he was, he was willing to consent to 
 a peace ; for he was moved by the distresses of his 
 people, and, being abandoned by his allies, he saw 
 but little chance of making an effectual resistance 
 The priests, however, were of a different opinion 
 They painted in glowing and true colours the con 
 duct of the Spaniards to Montezuma and his fami- 
 ly, to other princes, and, indeed, to all those who 
 had fallen under their yoke ; they warned him to 
 beware of the treachery of Cortez ; reminded him 
 of his own martial fame ; and once more boldly 
 promised, in the name of the gods, that his arms 
 should be crowned with victory. Thus stimulated 
 by every motive that can actuate the brave and 
 the patriotic, Guatimotzin declared that he would 
 fight to the last man ; and he issued orders to sink 
 wells, to husband the provisions, and to spare no 
 exertions for the procuring of nocturnal supplies. 
 
 The Spaniards were not long before they felt the 
 effects of this desperate resolution. " Our army," 
 says Diaz, " remained quietly at their post for two 
 days, expecting the answer from Mexico. We 
 were then attacked at all points by fresh bodies ol 
 the enemy, who fell on us like lions, closing upon 
 and endeavouring to seize us with their hands 
 whenever the horn of Guatimotzin was sounded. 
 For seven days were we thus engaged, watching in 
 a body during the night, at daybreak going into ac- 
 tion, fighting through the whole day, and in the 
 evening retiring to console ourselves with our 
 wretched maize, cakes, agi or pepper, tunas, and 
 herbs. Our offer of peace only furnished new 
 matter for the enemy to revile us upon, reproach
 
 CORTEZ. 329 
 
 ,>\% us as cowards, and saying that peace was for 
 women and arms for men." While the Mexicans 
 were thus keeping the Spaniards occupied in de. 
 fending their position towards the lake, they were 
 busy in assembling troops to fall upon it on the 
 land-side. The mutilated remains of the captured 
 Spaniards were sent round the provinces, to encour- 
 age the rising in arms of such of the natives as 
 were yet faithful to Guatimotzin. A considerable 
 force was by this means brought into the field, 
 which commenced its operations by falling upon 
 the allies of Cortez. Ill as he could spare them, 
 the Spanish general was compelled to send two 
 strong detachments, under De Tapia and Sandoval, 
 to support his friends. Both officers accomplished 
 their object, and Sandoval came back just in time to 
 sustain the besieging army, which his departure 
 had so much weakened that it was now " in a most 
 perilous way." His opportune arrival, however, 
 turned the scale in its favour. 
 
 In the hope that the dispersion of the provincial 
 succours might have somewhat discouraged the en- 
 emy, Cortez now sent another embassy to Guati- 
 motzin. Of promises and professions he was as 
 lavish as on the former occasion. Perhaps, too, he 
 was prompted by another consideration of no tri- 
 fling weight. His stock of gunpowder was re- 
 duced almost to nothing. It was well for him that, 
 by mere chance, at this critical moment he re- 
 cived a supply of soldiers and ordnance stores, 
 which had been intended for another destination. 
 This was singularly fortunate, for this embassy 
 again proved abortive. The only notice which 
 Guatimotzin condescended to take of it was to or-
 
 330 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 der that the envoys should quit the city without de. 
 lay. 
 
 Negotiation having failed, Cortez was obliged to 
 recur to arms. There were some indications 
 which justified him in looking forward to a success- 
 ful issue of the contest. The Mexicans, it is true, 
 still manifested the same spirit of hatred and the 
 eame determination ; they still loaded their enemies 
 with curses, menaces, and insults ; they were still 
 e&ger to rush upon the sword ; but famine was ev- 
 idently doing its dreadful work among them ; and, 
 though their minds were unconquered, their bodies 
 wee become less capable of endurance and exer- 
 tion ; " there was not so much movement among 
 them as formerly," says the Spanish chronicler, 
 " noi Jid they so busily employ themselves in open- 
 ing the ditches." In proportion as their energy 
 declined, that of their enemies increased. Every 
 day the invaders made some progress towards the 
 devoted city. At length, Cortez determined to 
 make a vigorous and combined attack, for the pur- 
 pose of gaining a footing in the heart of the capi- 
 tal. The three divisions were to establish them- 
 selves in the Taltelulco, or great square, in which 
 stood the principal temples and strong buildings. 
 The plan was ably executed. Alvarado, whose 
 division was the nearest to the square, was the first 
 to force an entrance. After a sharp combat of two 
 hours, he drove the Mexicans from their barricades, 
 and penetrated into it. Then, retaining two thirds 
 of his men to keep the enemy in the streets at 
 bay, he gave the remainder to Gutierre de Badajoz, 
 lo storm the temple of the war-god. Headed b\ 
 the priests, a body of the natives defended thi.-
 
 CORTEZ. 331 
 
 temple with the most obstinate valour. They re- 
 ceded slowly up the steps before their adversaries, 
 disputed every step, and, when they were at last 
 driven to the flat summit of the edifice, they con- 
 tinued the fight till darkness brought the sanguinary 
 struggle to a close. The triumphant Spaniards then 
 set fire to the images and sanctuaries of the Mexi- 
 can deities, and planted their standard on the top of 
 the temple. It was not till some time after Alvara- 
 do had achieved this conquest that Cortez and San- 
 doval were able to join him. Guatirnotzin had re- 
 tired to another part of the city, and the royal 
 palaces in this quarter were levelled to the ground 
 by the victors. Fifty thousand of the allies rapid, 
 ly and joyfully accomplished this work of destruc- 
 tion. 
 
 This was a fatal blow to the Mexicans, but they 
 did not yet lose heart. Their onsets continued to 
 be daily made upon the Spanish posts with the same 
 inveteracy as before, though with diminished means. 
 They soon, however, received a severe check, which 
 contributed greatly to repress their impetuosity. 
 An ambuscade, consisting of the flower of his army 
 and a thousand Tlascalans, was laid by Cortez du- 
 ring the night in some large houses which had be- 
 longed to a nobleman of the city. On the follow, 
 ing morning, by a feigned retreat, he drew the en- 
 emy into this snare. The signal being given, the 
 concealed party rushed out upon the rear of the 
 pursuing Mexicans, who, unable to advance or re- 
 tire, and assailed on all sides, were routed with fear- 
 ful slaughter. Henceforth they no longer follow, 
 ed up the Spaniards w^en they had succeeded in 
 repulsing them.
 
 332 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 For a few days Cortez desisted from active cp. 
 erations. He ordered the destruction of houses 
 to be suspended, and again endeavoured to open 
 a negotiation with the Mexican monarch, to whom 
 he gave the strongest assurances that " he should 
 enjoy the plenitude of power and honours." Cor- 
 tez was really solicitous to save the city from any 
 farther devastation ; he did not wish the trophy of 
 his conquest to be a heap of ruins. The overtures 
 of the Spanish general were received by Guatimot. 
 zin with an apparent disposition to come to an un- 
 derstanding ; but this was all fallacious, for the 
 king was wisely averse from trusting himself in the 
 hands of his unprincipled foes. His object in pre- 
 tending to listen to the proposals was solely to gain 
 time for strengthening the portion of the city in 
 which he resided, and for collecting forces to make 
 another assault upon the Spanish quarters. " The 
 mask," says Diaz, " was soon thrown off; we were 
 attacked by great bodies of the enemy with such 
 violence as if all were beginning anew. Having 
 been rather taken by surprise, they did us at first 
 some mischief." The Mexicans were ultimately 
 defeated ; and this was the last flickering of a flame 
 which was about to expire. 
 
 Another attempt to negotiate having failed, Cor- 
 tez resolved to force his way into the remainder of 
 the city. A tacit suspension of arms was, howev- 
 er, continued between the two parties for four or 
 five days : they paused from weakness, he with 
 the hope that the consciousness of their exhaustion 
 might lead them to surrender. " During this time, 
 numbers of the wretched Indians, reduced by fam- 
 ine, surrounded the Spanish quarters every night."
 
 CORTEZ. 333 
 
 In order to conciliate their fellow-countrymen, Cor- 
 tez ordered that no injury should be done to these 
 unfortunate beings. As, however, no signs of sub- 
 mission appeared, the Spaniards recommenced their 
 operations, and gradually gained ground in all di- 
 rections. The finishing blow was given to the 
 Mexican monarchy by the measures which Cortez 
 now adopted. All escape except by the lake was 
 already cut off from Guatimotzin ; that last re- 
 source he was on the point of losing. Cortez di' 
 reeled Sandoval to proceed with the flotilla, and in- 
 vest that quarter of the city in which the sovereign 
 had taken refuge. At the same time, he charged 
 him not to injure any of the natives unless he was 
 himself attacked, and even then not to go beyond 
 self-defence ; but to level all the houses, and the 
 numerous advanced works which the enemy had 
 constructed on the lake. 
 
 The fatal moment was at length arrived whee. 
 Guatimotzin must cease to hope that he could long- 
 er hold the city against his foe. To yield himsell 
 up to Cortez was abhorrent to his feelings, and con- 
 sequently nothing remained for him but flight. Be- 
 sides, if he could succeed in eluding pursuit, there 
 was a chance that he might raise his standard in 
 aome other part of his empire. As soon, therefore, 
 as he saw the preparations for surrounding him, he 
 embarked with his family, courtiers, and officers, 
 in fifty large piraguas, which had been held in read- 
 iness for the purpose. All the nobility and chiefs 
 likewise took to flight in various directions. But 
 the Spanish flotilla kept too close a watch to allowr 
 of his carrying his scheme into effect. He was 
 speedily discovered, pursued, and compelled to sur
 
 334 PERILOUS ADVENTURES. 
 
 render. This event, which terminated the siege of 
 Mexico, took place on the evening of the 15th of 
 August, 1521. 
 
 When the unfortunate Guatimotzin was brought 
 into the Spanish camp, Cortez embraced him, and 
 treated him with every semblance of respect. But 
 the fallen monarch could not conceal how deeply 
 his heart was wounded. While the tears gushed 
 into his eyes, he exclaimed to Cortez, " Malintzin ! 
 I have done that which was my duty in the defence 
 of my kingdom and people. My efforts have fail, 
 ed ; and being now brought by force a prisoner into 
 your hands, draw that poniard from your side and 
 stab me to the heart." In reply to this affecting 
 appeal, Cortez again embraced him, praised his val- 
 our and firmness, assured him that all which had 
 passed would be buried in oblivion, and promised 
 that he should retain his crown, and exercise his 
 authority as fully and as freely as he had hitherto 
 done. How well he kept his promise, history, to 
 his eternal shame, has recorded. 
 
 The dreadful state to which the Mexican capital 
 had been reduced is thus emphatically described by 
 Bernal Diaz. " What I am going to mention," 
 says he, " is truth, and I swear and say amen to it. 
 I have read of the destruction of Jerusalem, but 1 
 cannot conceive that the mortality there exceeded 
 this of Mexico ; for all the people from the distant 
 provinces which belonged to this empire had con- 
 centrated themselves here, where they mostly died. 
 The streets, the squares, the houses, and the court* 
 of the Taltelulco were covered with dead bodie* , 
 we could not step without treading on them ; the 
 lake and canals were filled with them, and the stenc*
 
 CORTEZ. 335 
 
 was intolerable. For this reason our troops, imme- 
 diately after the capture of the royal family, retired 
 to their former quarters. Cortez himself was for 
 some time ill from the effect of it. Guatimotzin 
 now requested of Cortez that permission should be 
 given to clear the city entirely of the inhabitants, 
 in order to purify it, and restore its salubrity. Ac- 
 cordingly, they were ordered to remove to the 
 neighbouring towns ; and for three days and three 
 nights all the causeways were full, from one end to 
 the other, of men, women, and children, so weak 
 and sickly, squalid, and dirty, and pestilential, that 
 it was misery to behold them. When all those 
 who were able had quitted the city, we went to ex- 
 amine the state of it, which was as I have descri- 
 bed. The streets, courts, and houses were cover- 
 ed with dead bodies, and some miserable wretchea 
 were creeping about, in the different stages of the 
 most offensive disorders, the consequences of fam- 
 ine and improper food. The ground was all broken 
 up to get at the roots of such vegetation as it afford- 
 ed, and the very trees were stripped of their bark ! 
 There was no fresh water in the town. During all 
 their distress, however, though their constant prac- 
 tice was to feast on such as they took prisoners, no 
 instance occurred of their having preyed on each 
 other ; and certainly never since the creation ex 
 isted a people who suffered so much from hunger 
 thirst, and warfare." 
 
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