[From Buck Whaley's Memoirs]

CHAPTER VII.

My Return to Paris-The Valois Club-The King's Trial-His Death -The Duke of Orleans-A Duel-tgalité-Lisle-Brussels-The Theatre-Calais-A Journey to Ostend-to Dover-to London -Conclusion.

THE morning after my arrival O- T- entered my room and informed my companion and me that there was much danger in walking the streets, and advised us to be upon our guard. As I thought it would be an imputation on my courage to keep within doors on that account, I was determined not to regard his injunctions, be the consequence what it might. This was the very point he wished to gain. Danger there was indeed, but not of the nature he represented.

After we had dined and drank pretty freely, we went together to the Valois Club, where I found the Count A- D-,¹ general of the Sans-culottes, G-² a Spanish count, then Commissary-at-War, both of whom have been since guillotined, and the Chevalier de St. M-. This party prevailed on me to play at hazard, and in the course of the evening I lost two thousand louis d'ors in ready money, and two thousand more on my parole.

At six o'clock in the morning I found my way home, perplexed and stupified with my losses, and cursing that infatuation, which was continually involving me in new distresses.

My situation was certainly as deplorable as could be imagined-in a city where no person could be secure for a moment, and deprived of every means of quitting it ; but what still encreased my apprehensions and embarrassment was, that a war was on the eve of breaking out between England and France. In this emergency I determined on sending my fair friend to England to procure me some money, if possible. It was agreed that she should turn into cash what jewels she had, part of which would bear her expenses to England, and the remainder was to be left with me.

Everything being settled according to this plan, she departed accompanied only by her servant, leaving with me our little boy Tom, who had been my companion in all my travels, and a footman. I then threw myself on the bed and remained some time overwhelmed with grief and vexation, during which an accident happened to her which proved the danger of appearing at that time in the streets of Paris.

Mrs. W-³ had scarce left me and prepared to get into the carriage, when a rascal who had been my valet de chambre, and whom I had dismissed from my service for having robbed me, and to whom I did not owe a sixpence, instantly raised a mob around her by exclaiming that she was an aristocrat, and that her motive for absconding was to evade paying him fifty Louis due of his wages.

Had he accused her of being a thief or a murderer, she might, in all probability, have passed unmolested : but to be an aristocrat precluded all chance of mercy, and she must inevitably have been torn to pieces, if, fortunately, a member of the National Assembly had not passed by at that moment, and rescued her from the hands of those furies. This, however, he could not effect till he had paid the fifty Louis to the villain who had excited the tumult, after which he conducted her safe to her carriage and took his leave.

I endeavoured to find out who the generous person was, to whom I was so much indebted, and discharge at least the pecuniary part of the obligation ; but I could never discover him. Since my return to England I learned that his name is Monsieur de Naublanc, now a member of the Council of Five Hundred, and who has lately so eminently distinguished himself by pleading the cause of the oppressed and unfortunate.

The next morning I received a letter from A- D-,⁴ in which he proposed that if it was not in my power to pay the two thousand Louis d'ors I had lost to him, he would content himself with my note of hand payable in three months ; to which I replied, that as I had sent to England for money, [and] I hoped to pay him before the expiration of that time, any such engagement appeared to me totally useless and unnecessary.

At that time Paris was in a state of the most dreadful consternation. The trial of the King had commenced, and all minds were intent upon the issue : but no one dare communicate his thoughts to another. All was distrust, and gloomy silence, in a city once the seat of mirth and noisy festivity. But though the anxiety as to the event of the trial was general, yet the motives that actuated each party were very different. Good men were struck with the horror of what they had but too much reason to apprehend, and bloodthirsty miscreants feared that their rage might be disappointed.

At length the regicide Assembly passed the horrible .decree and doomed the unfortunate Louis to an ignominious death. I saw Garat, the Minister of Justice, Le Brun, Minister for Foreign Affairs, and Gourvelle, Secretary of the Council, mount the carriage pale and trembling, like so many culprits, charged with the awful commission of announcing to the King a sentence which was at once a mockery of justice and a disgrace to human nature.

I shall pass over everything relative to what happened within the walls of the temple, of which so many contradictory accounts have been given, and confine myself to what fell within my own observation.

After I had seen, with heartfelt indignation, the three wretches depart on their mission, I went to an appointment I had made with one of my friends at the Café de Foix. I had scarce entered the room when I saw two men approach, armed with sabres and pistols, exclaiming and repeating many times " Let all join with us who wish to save our unfortunate monarch." To this no answer was made ; and while I was reflecting on so strange an occurrence, my friend arrived and we soon retired to our hotel.

The next day was the memorable twenty-first of January, 1793. At nine in the morning, habited like a true Sans culotte, I repaired to the Place Louis Quinze, now the Place of the Revolution. All the streets were lined with armed men, and cannon placed at the entrances.

The concourse of people was prodigious. I pushed my way through with much difficulty, so as to get near the scaffold, which was erected between the pedestal of the statue and the Elysian Fields.

But when I came to the fatal spot, my resolution failed me, and fully convinced that there was not the smallest prospect of rescuing the unfortunate victim from the hands of his murderers, I fled with as much precipitancy from this scene of slaughter, this deed of blood by which human nature was so woefully outraged, as I had used before in approaching it.

At ten a large body of soldiers, both horse and foot, made their appearance. They were followed by a coach drawn by two black horses, in which were the royal victim, his confessor, a municipal officer, two officers of the National Guards, J. Roux and P. Bernard, two municipal priests. Before the coach rode Berruyer, pensioner of the King, and the infamous Santerre.

When arrived at the foot of the scaffold, the King alighted, pulled off his coat, which was of a grey colour,, and ascended the scaffold with a firm step and tranquil aspect, while he benignly cast his eyes on the surrounding multitude. He then advanced, and would have addressed the people ; but the noise of the drums, which were then ordered to be beat, drowned his voice, so that these words only, could be distinctly heard. " I die innocent. I forgive my enemies, and Heaven grant that France "-here, on a signal from Santerre, the executioner seized the King and tied him to the plank. In this position he raised his head, and once more gazed on the multitude. It was at this instant that his confessor, kneeling close to his face, pronounced with an emphatic tone, " Son of St. Louis, ascend to Heaven," when the fatal axe immediately fell, and this faithful adherent was besprinkled with the blood of his royal master.

The falling of the guillotine did not immediately separate the head from the body ; but upon a pressure of the iron it fell into a casket placed for the purpose.

One of the executioners, who was said to be a tavern-keeper, and had been clerk to a wine-merchant of Rheims; took up his head and, walking round the scaffold, exposed it to the people. A few voices, and but few, exclaimed, " Vive la nation, vive la République."

During the whole proceeding, the soldiers observed the most profound silence. All expressions of pity were suppressed by terror; and after the execution a deathlike stillness prevailed throughout, which gave additional horror to the scene.

I was told that the Duke of Orleans was on the Pont Louis, seated in a cabriolet, and calmly beholding the murder in which he bore so principal a part.

He stayed till the body was removed, and drove afterwards to his palace, where an elegant carriage drawn by six bays waited to convey him to Rincy, one of his country seats, a few miles from Paris, where he had invited Robespierre, Collot d'Herbois, Cambon, and some other conspirators to dine with him and to celebrate the death of their royal master.

I have before mentioned that my feelings could not endure this bloody spectacle. The relation I have given of it is, however, but too correct. I had not returned many minutes from this fatal spot, my mind tortured with the most afflicting sensations, and with the dreadful consequences likely to ensue, when O ! shame on the perversion of every best principle-0 ! shame upon those degraded Englishmen !-no, can I call them by that dignified name ?-some of my countrymen entered the coffee-room, and with an air of self-complacency and grim satisfaction displayed to my view their handkerchiefs, stained with drops of the blood of the mild and beneficent Lewis.

My own blood curdled at the sight, and with a stern-ness produced by a kind of sensation I had never felt before, I boldly rebuked them for the savage pleasure they testified and the mean part they had acted.

"These are accursed spots," exclaimed I, with the liveliest emotion, "which not all the waters of the Thames or the Seine can wash away."

On the following day I did not go out till it was late ; and on the Pont Neuf I met my friend Colonel Wall, a most loyal though unfortunate man, to whom

I related my adventure with Arthur D-.⁵ He was clearly of opinion that I had been cheated, and advised me by no means to pay the two thousand Louis, which I had lost upon my parole, or give him any security for that sum.

I remained for eight days without hearing any thing from him ; when one morning O- entered my apartment. I immediately charged him with being in league with the set who had plundered me, and threatened to chastise him on the spot : upon which he burst into tears, and confessed that he was an accomplice in their villainous transactions ; but solemnly protested that he had not touched a sol of the ready money, and that his share of the spoil was to be five hundred louis out of the two thousand due, provided he could find means to recover it. He then declared that if I would give him the five hundred, he would not only discover to me how I had been cheated but avow it openly to their faces.

I told him that I felt infinitely more hurt at the idea of being injured by him, who must be sensible how much I had been his friend, than by being betrayed by those to whom I was a perfect stranger. He acknowledged that his conduct was reprehensible in the highest degree, and that he deserved nothing from me but the severest reproaches : but at the same time observed, by way of justification of his conduct, that as he saw I was plundered by every one he thought he had as good a right to a share of the spoil as any other. He concluded by repeating his offer of disclosing the villainy on condition of being recompensed with five hundred louis ; to which I made no other return than that of kicking him out of doors.

Two days after I had another message from A- D-, in consequence of which I went to him accompanied by my friend W-.⁶ There we found D- and G- with pistols lying on the table. This apparatus did not prevent me from telling D- what I thought of his behaviour, or signifying my determination not to pay him, as I was convinced I had been cheated, which I could prove by the evidence of O- one of his associates.

W- supported my charge, and the two friends of D- ranged themselves on his side.

It was impossible that a dispute of this kind could end amicably, and accordingly D- demanded satisfaction, which I readily agreed to grant, notwithstanding the advice of W- to the contrary. We appointed the following evening to meet at six o'clock, in the Elysian Fields-we were to begin with pistols and, should these take no effect, the contest was to be decided by the sword.

W-- and I were punctual to the time and place appointed ; but we waited near half an hour before Dappeared. At last we saw him advancing, accompanied by G- and two others, who were entire strangers to us W- who had no sword, perceiving that G-, second to Dillon,⁷ had one by his side, desired him instantly to quit it, threatening, in case of refusal, to lodge the contents of his pistols in his body. This demand Gthought proper to comply with ; and no further obstacle remaining, I took my station. W- called on D- to do the same ; but he expressed a wish to speak to G-, to which my friend would by no means consent, having some suspicion of foul play.

While this matter was in agitation, the man who held our horses came speedily to inform us that a troop of National Guards was coming towards us, which I perceived to be really the case. I had scarcely time to mount my horse, and apprise W- of our danger, when the horsemen came close upon us. We immediately set off full gallop : D-- pursued us till we were out of hearing, uttering all the invectives and opprobrious language he could think of.

By the excellence of our horses, however, we escaped our pursuers, and in about an hour arrived at Nanterre, a little village three leagues from Paris. Here we stopped for the night; and in the morning sent a person on whose fidelity we could depend to make inquiries concerning the general opinion entertained of our adventure.

From this faithful emissary we learned that Dexerted all his influence with the Jacobin Club to get me imprisoned.

At that time, there was from the prison to the guillotine but a regular step, and the interval very short between the one and the other.

Notwithstanding this alarming information, I returned to Paris the same day, and remained there for three weeks, skulking about like a thief; never sleeping two nights in succession in the same place, to evade the domiciliary visits that were made almost every night.

Harassed with fatigue, exposed to every kind of danger, and feeling the greatest solicitude for my little boy, for whose safety I entertained a thousand fears, receiving no intelligence from his mother, whom I had dispatched to England, and finding from the information of my friends that D- had laid a plan to assassinate me, or at least to intimidate me so as to extort payment of the debt he claimed, I determined to leave this wretched capital and repair to Brussels; but the difficulty was how to obtain a passport, all the avenues to Paris being closely guarded.

In this extremity I applied to W-y, formerly under-secretary ⁸ to a Viceroy of Ireland, a man of whose honour and integrity I had repeated proofs. He not only offered me his assistance, but proposed to accompany me, if [I] should succeed in getting off. In consequence of which, the next day we set out together on foot for Rincy, where, as I have already observed, the Duke of Orleans had a country-house.

While we waited for a favourable opportunity of procuring a carriage we strolled into the Park, and had proceeded but a few paces when we saw the execrable proprietor himself walking towards us with a book in his hand.

Having had the misfortune of being introduced to him before the Revolution, he recollected me. But my friend and he had been upon intimate terms. He seemed much surprised at meeting us, and asked a number of questions as to the cause of our being there.

When we had fully satisfied him, he invited us to dinner, and promised us a passport to Brussels that should secure us from either insult or interruption on the way. As we walked towards the house he took notice of Mr. W-'s being in mourning, and without ceremony demanded the occasion. Mr. W- told him he wore it in honour of the good King who had been recently murdered.

I shuddered at the boldness of his expression ; but Orleans, with well-dissembled candour and an affectation of a deep sense of public justice, observed, that as it was an act the sole object of which was the good of the people, it was not only justifiable in itself, but such as every true Frenchman should glory in. " However that may be," replied W-y, " every man is at liberty to judge for himself, and our opinions, I believe, can never coincide upon that subject."

I wished to give a turn to the conversation, and for the present succeeded ; but at dinner it was impossible to exclude politics ; and this infamous modern Nero, equally detestable as a father, a husband or a subject, and even a traitor to the cause he espoused, manifested, throughout the whole of his political discussion that evening, a degree of depravity which till then I thought human nature incapable of.

I felt so uneasy in his company that I could have gladly quitted it even without the passport, which, however we at last obtained, with a letter to the mulatto St. George, then commandant at Lisle.

I shall always regret the necessity I was under of being obliged to such a monster ; but our very critical situation at that time rendered it unavoidable, and necessity often silences every other consideration.

It was seven in the evening when we reached Lisle the Gates were shut, and we could not get admittance until I produced my letter for the Commandant, who came himself to receive it. This officer gave us a very friendly and polite reception, and during our stay treated us with the utmost respect and civility. What he may have done since I know not ; but certain it is that though a creature of the Duke's he seemed composed of very different materials, and consequently possessed very different sentiments from those of his detestable superior. Not only he, but all the officers who were with him, spoke with detestation and horror of the act perpetrated by Orleans and his gang of assassins.

St. George had the precaution to send with me a friend of his as far as Brussels, where, without his assistance, I should certainly have been assassinated for ' my anti-sansculottism.

I was one night at the theatre where a new Republican piece was performed, composed for the express purpose of insulting the memory of the late unfortunate King. It afforded high entertainment to the audience ; but only served to fill my mind alternately with indignation and melancholy ideas; till at length I felt my situation so disagreeable that I was on the point of leaving the house, when a Jacobin, who stood near me, asked why I did not seem to participate in the general satisfaction. To which I answered that every man may be supposed master of his actions, but could not always command or suppress his feelings ; and that what produced joy in some minds, may have quite the contrary effect on others. " You are then an aristocrat," said he ; to which I imprudently answered in the affirmative. I had scarcely pronounced the word, when he vociferated " Here is a rascally aristocrat got among us."

In an instant the whole house was in confusion-every eye sought me with evident malignancy, and I should certainly have paid very dearly for my temerity had not the officer who accompanied me, by threatening to call in the National Guard, rescued me from their clutches and conveyed me home in safety.

The next day I met Prince Louis de A- who by his revolutionary principles had acquired popularity, and even some ascendancy over the Jacobins.

He found no difficulty in persuading them that what I said was merely in jest, and without any intention of giving offence ; so that for the time I remained among them, which was near a month, I met with neither insult or molestation.

From Brussels I proceeded to Dunkirk, where I obtained a passport to Calais, as I entertained the pleasing hope of meeting my companion there and taking her with me into Switzerland. In this I was disappointed but I had the pleasure of meeting with many of my countrymen here, who were waiting with impatience for an opportunity of returning to England.

In the hotel where I lodged was a French duke, who endeavoured with unremitting assiduity to draw me into an intimacy with him, but as his conversation shewed him to be of the most violent democratic principles, I shrunk from his advances as much as I could consistently with propriety and good manners. One night as I was preparing to go to bed, he begged leave to accompany me to my chamber, having, as he said, something of importance to communicate ; to which I assented. When [we] were in the room he observed little Tom in bed, and asked if he understood French; I told him he did, but that he might speak freely as the boy was fast asleep. He then spoke thus to me. " My dear sir, from what I have heard of you, and the disinclination you have manifested to enter into any degree of familiarity with me, I feel myself warranted in giving you my entire confidence, and disclosing to you my real sentiments ; particularly on the subject of modern politics, which are the very reverse of what you may be induced to imagine from the tenor of my conversation on that favourite subject. But it is of the utmost consequence to me and some others, whom I highly esteem, that we should thus assume a character and outwardly profess sentiments which we despise and inwardly disavow. Grant me your confidence and esteem, and you shall never find me unworthy of either. There are many others whom you have it in your power to serve ; and who, you may rest assured, will always preserve a grateful sense of their obligations to you.

" Is it in your power to set out directly for Paris and repair to an hotel I shall point out to you ? There you will meet a man whom you will readily distinguish by the description I shall give you. He will give into your hands a thousand louis d'ors, and to him you are to consign this letter."

I asked him what the purport of the letter might be ; to which he answered that he was not at liberty to discover ; but solemnly declared, upon his honour, that it was such as could not in any wise tend to involve me in either difficulty or danger, even should the contents be made publicly known. I told him I felt highly honoured by the confidence he was pleased to repose in me ; but that the offer of the money was totally unnecessary, as I should without any such inducement readily undertake what he proposed, were it not that I was waiting for the arrival of a lady from England, who would be much embarrassed and distressed should she not find me there but if he could postpone the business till then, I should with alacrity enter upon and execute it to the utmost of my power and abilities. He expressed his thanks, but said that the delay of a few hours would render the whole scheme abortive. Since that time I have heard no more of the French duke and the letter.

While I thus remained in expectation of some intelligence from England, I became acquainted with an American lady, who was then at Calais with her two daughters, waiting for the arrival of her husband from Vienna, where he had been sent in a diplomatic capacity from the United States. These ladies took a great liking to my little boy ; asked me his name and age, and after some conversation I discovered that the old lady was acquainted with my mother. When she. understood my situation she kindly offered me every assistance in her power, and very soon had an opportunity of shewing the sincerity of her professions.

At length a signal was given of a Packet from England being in sight; upon which I went down to the Quay, and by the help of my glass discovered my dear companion among several other females on board. I had very little time to rejoice at the prospect of my troubles and anxiety being nearly at an end, when I was informed that the Municipality of Calais had refused to admit the Packet-boat into the harbour. I immediately wrote a letter and endeavoured to get it conveyed on board, offering a reward of twenty louis d'ors to any person who would engage to convey it safe. But no one would undertake the office without permission from the Municipality. I applied to them myself and skewed them the letter, which contained nothing more than to inform my friend of my being there, and to desire she would return to London, and wait there till I could find an opportunity of joining her. I requested they would permit me to send this letter by the boat that was to convey their determination to the Packet : but this they refused, and I had the mortification of seeing the vessel leave the coast, without being able to give my dear, companion the least information concerning myself or any measures I may have [had] in contemplation for our mutual accommodation.

Vexed to the soul at seeing all my hopes thus frustrated, and having no prospect of an end to my misfortunes, I applied to the American lady for advice. As she had determined on going to Ostend she proposed that I should accompany her, and accordingly we dispatched a courier to Paris for permission to quit France. He soon returned with a direct refusal to our request, the only reason alleged for which was, that in the present critical state of affairs no person whatsoever could be allowed to leave the country.

Notwithstanding this prohibition, we did not give up our determination or hopes of visiting Ostend ; and to this end, we availed ourselves of an old passport which the lady had for herself, her two daughters and her son, who was then absent and whom, on this occasion, I was to personate.

Having procured four stout horses, and harnessed them to my carriage, we proceeded as far as Farnese without interruption, as we travelled for the most part through by-roads : but here we were stopped, and after receiving many insults from the soldiers on guard, we were carried before the Commissary, though he was then in bed. Fortunately for us, this gentleman was of a mild and humane disposition ; and after having examined our passports, and understanding that we were subjects of the United States, he not only imprisoned the soldiers who had insulted us, but gave us a fresh passport, and sent an escort to conduct us safe out of the town.

We now resumed our journey with less apprehensions on our minds than when we first set out, and travelled without stopping till we arrived at a small town within six leagues of our journey's end, where we found it necessary to halt, in order to refresh our horses. While this was doing I took a walk to a small eminence to enjoy the prospect, leaving the ladies in the carriage. On my return I found the inn beset by ten or twelve hundred Republicans, a part of whom surrounded me as I approached the carriage and strictly interrogated me as to my name and country, backing each impertinent question with a bayonet pointed at my breast.

Notwithstanding I repeatedly assured them that I was an American, yet I should have hardly escaped with life, if the officers, who were more rational beings, had not interposed and rescued me from the hands of these drunken scoundrels.

It was with the utmost difficulty I could approach the carriage, where I found another set of those miscreants, and the ladies half dead with apprehension. They had, however, presence of mind to make signs to me, not by any means to skew the least appearance of resentment. By dint of entreaties and fair words, I was at length suffered to step into the carriage : but we had scarcely recovered from our agitation and apprehensions, when we were assailed by another set, and again relieved by the officers, though not without being obliged to cry out repeatedly " Vive la Republique ! " to which, with true politeness, they answered " Vivent les Americains ! " We were then permitted to prosecute our journey; but every half league we met with parties of the National Guards, who all took care to lay us under some contribution.

In this pleasant way of travelling we arrived under the walls of Ostend ; and after waiting a short time, were admitted into the town, having announced ourselves as English, the garrison being at that time in anxious expectation of a fleet with troops from England.

In ten days after my arrival I had the satisfaction of seeing the British flag flying in the harbour, and among the officers recognized some of my old acquaintance, who supplied me with money sufficient to pursue my route with the American ladies ; and we accordingly embarked in the first Packet for Dover, where we soon arrived.

After having procured proper accommodations for the ladies, the first thing I did was to inquire after my companion. For this purpose I repaired to the York Hotel, where I was well known from an act of folly I had committed there some years before.

I had laid a wager with a young man as giddy and inconsiderate as myself, that I would leap out of the window, on the second floor, over the roof of the mailcoach that was then standing near the door. By laying mattresses in the street to break the fall, I performed the feat and had the honour of winning the wager which was two thousand guineas, besides the good fortune to escape with whole bones.

To return, however, from this digression, I was informed in the hotel that my friend had gone to Deal, in hopes of procuring a passage to France. I instantly set out for Deal where I learned that she had proceeded directly from thence to London without taking any refreshment. Now I had not a guinea in my pocket, and to complete my embarrassment I had sufficient reason to apprehend, that on my arrival in the capital, I should be arrested by the creditors of two young men for whom I was security.

While I was revolving in my mind the extent of my present distress, I discovered that my friend Admiral M_⁹ was then at Deal, under orders for Ostend. To him I gave a succinct detail of all my distresses ; of the fatigue I had undergone, not having been in bed for the last five days, and of the extreme desire I had of getting to London, whatever might be the consequence.

Like a true friend he removed all my difficulties, and I immediately set out for London, accompanied by an officer charged with dispatches for the Admiralty.

We arrived at six in the morning and my first visit was to my old lodging, where I indulged myself with the pleasing hope of finding my companion, or, at least, of gaining such intelligence of her as would remove those apprehensions which our separation had occasioned. But by a strange fatality, she had, a short time before, returned to Deal with an intention of embarking for Ostend.

These repeated disappointments did not cool my ardour or abate my activity. I therefore returned directly to Deal, where I had the additional mortification of finding that only three hours before she had embarked in the Packet that sailed for Ostend. By the powerful bait of twenty guineas, I prevailed on the master of a boat immediately to take me on board, and exert all his nautical skill and powers to overtake the Packet. 'Tis true I had not in my possession the means of fulfilling my engagement, but I knew that could I overtake my friend, she had money sufficient to answer every exigency.

After five hours' rowing we came alongside of the Packet, not above three leagues from land, where she had come to an anchor owing to contrary winds. Here I found my Eurydice, who was then in bed, worn out with fatigue and anxiety. After we had recounted our adventures to each other and described the dangers we had passed, through flood and field, she desired me to observe a petticoat she then wore, and which, she said, had not been off for three weeks. I begged to know what charm it possessed that could thus peculiarly attach her ; upon which she shewed me two thousand pounds sewed in the binding. But alas ! this sum, considerable as it was, did not prove of much advantage to us, as will shortly appear.

We had now no motive or inducement to proceed any farther on our way to Ostend ; and therefore we returned to Deal, and from thence to London, where I was no sooner arrived than I encountered one of my creditors, to whom I was under the necessity of giving seventeen hundred pounds to stop his mouth and prevent his giving intelligence to the rest. But still this could give me no hope of perfect security ; and as my debts amounted to upwards of ten thousand pounds, I knew it would be impossible for me to remain in the heart of London without being every moment under the painful apprehensions of a discovery.

I therefore took a lodging in the suburbs, in the neighbourhood of Moorfields, where I lived as retired and private as possible, never stirring out but on Sunday evenings, and associating with no person excepting my brother. I had only one servant, and of his fidelity I could not, without doing him the highest injustice, entertain the smallest doubt.

One day, as he was out for beer, a man followed him unperceived, and the instant my servant opened the door, he forced himself in and was followed by six more who, ranged themselves in the passage, while the first entered the room where I was sitting. " Good morning to you Mr. W-" said he with a sneer. " I am very glad to see you again in London." As I then passed under another name, for the same reason which induced me to live in that part of the town, I told him he was mistaken, that my name was not W-. " No, no," replied he, " I am not mistaken, and your memory must be very bad indeed, if you do not know me to be the waiter at Brook's to whom you are indebted four hundred pounds. I have here a writ against you for that sum, which you must either pay or go to prison."

While this was passing, the landlord and my servant entered the room and prepared to defend me. I seized a sword and pistol, and retired through a door leading to a room the windows of which fronted the street. While I was meditating an escape by this means, the people called to me not to risk my neck by such an attempt, which must prove fruitless, as the house was surrounded by at least twenty constables. I then returned to the room I had quitted, and assisted by my two friends, endeavoured to keep at bay the whole gang, who were just entering.

But my companion, who was at that time very ill, entreated me not to hazard my life in opposing so many, who could not fail to overpower me in the end. Her entreaties, and a conviction in my own mind that resistance would be in vain, induced me at length to surrender ; upon which I was instantly conveyed to the Bridewell, a prison solely designed for thieves and murderers.

My female friend intended to accompany me, but was refused admittance ; and I was thrust into a common room, amidst wretched criminals of all descriptions. I represented to the tailor, that I was not committed on a charge of any crime, and that I was a gentleman. " That may be," said the tailor : " but here we make no distinction but according to the money a man can afford to spend. I have excellent Champaign and claret, and if you choose to call for either, I can accommodate you with one of my own apartments." I acceded to the proposal and was shewn into a room, which, immediately upon my entrance, suggested an idea of my being able to effect my escape.

With this view, I desired my servant to wait in the street, within a few yards of the prison, and invited the tailor to take a glass of wine with me; an offer which I had no occasion to repeat ; and accordingly I plied him so closely with his own home-brewed Champaign, that he was soon in a fit condition for my purpose, which was that of descending from the window into the street and this I could have easily effected but for a circumstance I was [not] aware of.

I had scarce made the attempt when the tailor's daughter, a stout athletic wench, assisted by two of the understrappers, seized me and immediately conveyed me to the common room, where I should have been very roughly handled were it not for the interposition of ten guineas, which I fortunately had then in my pocket, and with which I appeased the infernal crew there assembled and prepared to load me with blows and insults.

The tailor on recovering from the state in which I had left him, shewed a grateful remembrance of my generous hospitality without once adverting to the motive ; and not only liberated me from the purgatory, but even gave me up his own bed.

In the meantime my faithful friend had gone to my brother and related to him the whole of my misfortune. He bade her be of good cheer, as he had just learned that my brother-in-law, the Chancellor,¹⁰ was then in London, to whom he would immediately communicate my situation.

Lord CLARE, Thos Whaley's brother in law
(Hopner pinst C. Turner sculpt., April 1802 ; in the British Museum)

He accordingly went to his lodging, but as he had dined abroad that day it was impossible to do any thing effectual till the next. In the morning, however, they were both at the prison door by six o'clock. My brother-in-law readily undertook to discharge the action ; but before I could obtain my liberty it was necessary to search the office, which luckily happened to be in the county of Surrey. Had it been in Middlesex, there would in all probability have been detainers to the amount of all my debts. As it was he had only four hundred pounds to pay with the costs.

I was now determined not to stay another hour in London ; and immediately set out for Dublin.

The first thing I did after my arrival was to dispose of all my estates, for the discharge of my personal debts ; and with the remainder, amounting to about five thousand pounds, I resolved to try my fortune at play and either retrieve myself or complete my ruin.

The latter was my fate, as may easily be supposed ; for in one winter I lost ten thousand pounds, which obliged me to sell all my own jewels, and those I had given to my companion in my better days : so that in the course of a few years I dissipated a fortune of near four hundred thousand pounds, and contracted debts to the amount of thirty thousand more, without ever purchasing or acquiring contentment or one hour's true happiness.

Deprived now of all the means by which I could support my rank in a society the only cement of which is gold, I had leisure to look a little into myself, and for the first time saw my conduct in its true light. I am at present, as I have already related, retired from the world, and my principal occupation, since the above mentioned period, has been the compiling of this narrative, which I hope from its candour will, in the estimation of my friends, make some atonement for the folly and extravagance of the author.

CONCLUSION.

As I committed many of the preceding events to paper, I frequently paused to compare my present mode of thinking with the notions of life and happiness I had formerly entertained ; and as I occasionally sighed or smiled at the recollections of my past extravagancies, I have often doubted whether I really was the principal actor in the scenes I have here related.

When the effervescence of youth and the violence of passion are past, when the imagination has lost its power, and novelty no longer invites, because life has nothing new, the mind viewing things with the clear and unimpassioned eyes of reason, retraces the follies of our juvenile years with pity and astonishment.

The vanity of human happiness has ever been an inexhaustible theme for the moralist and philosopher. These by the incontrovertible evidence of experience and the sound arguments of reason, to which they have not infrequently added the lesson of instruction, have endeavoured to prove the fallacy of our fondest pursuits, and laboured to give to youth the judgment and solidity of age. But the inefficacy of their labours teaches us that our knowledge, in order to be productive of the advantages they boast of, must proceed from the same source; and that the precepts of the sage avail but little till they have been enforced by the sanction of experience.

A sigh involuntarily arises, when we reflect that the most enviable period of our existence must be thus are to be attributed, no small share may be laid to a neglected education.

The very causes from which many of my extravagancies sprung, would, if properly directed, have been a spur to actions which might have rendered me of use and an ornament to the age I live in. But either the good-nature or indolence of my tutor forbore to control the impetuosity of my disposition, till he found himself unequal to the task, and neglected to enforce the utility of instruction till my mind had contracted a habit of indolence that rendered the idea of study and application painful and disgusting.

If the ardour and activity of my mind had been directed to intellectual attainments, I should not have experienced the vanity of thought which made me delight in change and any expedient that could beguile the time and retrieve me from the most insupportable of maladies, ennui.

The calm shades of domestic life, the pleasures of social converse and the tranquil enjoyment of friendship, experience has taught me, have the most extensive power of conferring happiness : but, for the enjoyment of these it requires a mind enriched with information and refined by a cultivated taste : it requires that station where poverty excites not discontent, nor riches tempt to improper pursuits, [and] which affords a sufficiency for the necessities and a little for the elegancies of life.

Removed from the noise and bustle of the world, I have lost all relish for the tumultuous pleasures of life and little remains of all that is past, but the melancholy reflection of having applied to an improper use the gifts with which nature and fortune had richly endowed me. Blessed with the reciprocal friendship of a tender and beloved companion, and the society of a few rational friends ; dividing my time between their company and literary pursuits, my days might now roll on in serenity and repose, if retrospection did not sometimes damp the pleasure of enjoyment. But in proportion as the recollection of the past is painful, the mind directs its views to the future ; and I feel no trifling satisfaction from the prospect, that this simple narrative may persuade the young and inexperienced, if the language of truth has the power of persuasion, that a life of dissipation can produce no enjoyment, and that tumultuous pleasures afford no real happiness.

Footnotes

1 Arthur Dillon.
2 ? Gabbarus.
3 The only occasion on which she is so described. MS. No. 2 here reads " my fair friend," but the small " m " of " my " is written over a capital M in such a way as to suggest that the writer was beginning to write Mrs. W- but changed his mind.
4 Arthur Dillon
5 See post, 317, where " Dillon " is written in full.
6 Col. Wall, as mentioned at p. 315
7 See p. 315, n. MS. No. 2 here reads " D-"
8 Private secretary must be meant, as there was no under-secretary about the time whose name would fit the initial,
9 Rear-Admiral John MacBride, then in command in the Downs.
10 Viscount Fitzgibbon, then Lord Chancellor of Ireland.