LADY G----, TO MISS BYRON
SATURDAY, MAY 6.
I thank you, Harriet, for yours. What must your fellows think of you?
In this gross age, your delicacy must astonish them. There used to be
more of it formerly. But how should men know any thing of it, when women
have forgot it? Lord be thanked, we females, since we have been admitted
into so constant a share of the public diversions, want not courage. We
can give the men stare for stare wherever we meet them. The next age,
nay, the rising generation, must surely be all heroes and heroines. But
whither has this word delicacy carried me? Me, who, it seems, have
faults to be corrected for of another sort; and who want not the courage
for which I congratulate others?
But to other subjects. I could write a vast deal of stuff about my lord
and self, and Lord and Lady L----, who assume parts which I know not how
to allow them: and sometimes they threaten me with my brother's
resentments, sometimes with my Harriet's; so that I must really have
leading-strings fastened to my shoulders. O, my dear, a fond husband is
a surfeiting thing; and yet I believe most women love to be made monkeys
of.
***
But all other subjects must now give way. We have heard of, though not
from, my brother. A particular friend of Mr. Lowther was here with a
letter from that gentleman, acquainting us, that Sir Charles and he were
arrived at Paris.
Mr. Beauchamp was with us when Mr. Lowther's friend came. He borrowed
the letter on account of the extraordinary adventure mentioned in it.
Make your heart easy, in the first place, about Sir Hargrave. He is
indeed in town; but very ill. He was frightened into England, and
intends not ever again to quit it. In all probability, he owes it to my
brother that he exists.
Mr. Beauchamp went directly to Cavendish-square, and informed himself
there of other particulars relating to the affair, from the very servant
who was present, and acting in it; and from those particulars, and Mr.
Lowther's letter, wrote one for Dr. Bartlett. Mr. Beauchamp obliged me
with the perusal of what he wrote; whence I have extracted the following
account: for his letter is long and circumstantial; and I did not ask his
leave to take a copy, as he seemed desirous to hasten it to the doctor.
On Wednesday, the 19-30 of April, in the evening, as my brother was
pursuing his journey to Paris, and was within two miles of that capital,
a servant-man rode up, in visible terror, to his post-chaise, in which
were Mr. Lowther and himself, and besought them to hear his dreadful
tale. The gentlemen stopt, and he told them, that his master, who was an
Englishman, and his friend of the same nation, had been but a little
while before attacked, and forced out of the road in their post-chaise,
as he doubted not, to be murdered, by no less than seven armed horsemen;
and he pointed to a hill, at distance, called Mont Matre, behind which
they were, at that moment, perpetrating their bloody purpose. He had
just before, he said, addressed himself to two other gentlemen, and their
retinue, who drove on the faster for it.
The servant's great coat was open; and Sir Charles observing his livery,
asked him, If he were not a servant of Sir Hargrave Pollexfen? and was
answered in the affirmative.
There are, it seems, trees planted on each side the road from St. Denis
to Paris, but which, as France is an open and uninclosed country, would
not, but for the hill, have hindered the seeing a great way off, the
scuffling of so many men on horseback. There is also a ditch on either
hand; but places left for owners to come at their grounds, with their
carts, and other carriages. Sir Charles ordered the post boy to drive to
one of those passages; saying, He could not forgive himself, if he did
not endeavour to save Sir Hargrave, and his friend, whose name the man
told him was Merceda.
His own servants were three in number, besides one of Mr. Lowther. My
brother made Mr. Lowther's servant dismount; and, getting himself on his
horse, ordered the others to follow him. He begged Mr. Lowther to
continue in the chaise, bidding the dismounted servant stay, and attend
his master, and galloped away towards the hill. His ears were soon
pierced with the cries of the poor wretches; and presently he saw two men
on horseback holding the horses of four others, who had under them the
two gentlemen, struggling, groaning, and crying out for mercy.
Sir Charles, who was a good way a-head of his servants, calling out to
spare the gentlemen, and bending his course to relieve the prostrate
sufferers, two of the four quitted their prey, and mounting, joined the
other two horsemen, and advanced to meet him, with a shew of supporting
the two men on foot in their violence; who continued laying on the
wretches, with the but-ends of their whips, unmercifully.
As the assailants offered not to fly, and as they had more than time
enough to execute their purpose, had it been robbery and murder; Sir
Charles concluded it was likely that these men were actuated by a private
revenge. He was confirmed in this surmise, when the four men on
horseback, though each had his pistol ready drawn, as Sir Charles also
had his, demanded a conference; warning Sir Charles how he provoked his
fate by his rashness; and declaring, that he was a dead man if he fired.
Forbear, then, said Sir Charles, all further violences to the gentlemen,
and I will hear what you have to say.
He then put his pistol into his holster; and one of his servants being
come up, and the two others at hand, (to whom he called out, not to fire
till they had his orders,) he gave him his horse's reins; bidding him
have an eye on the holsters of both, and leapt down; and, drawing his
sword, made towards the two men who were so cruelly exercising their
whips; and who, on his approach, retired to some little distance, drawing
their hangers.
The four men on horseback joined the two on foot, just as they were
quitting the objects of their fury; and one of them said, Forbear, for
the present, further violence, brother; the gentleman shall be told the
cause of all this.--Murder, sir, said he, is not intended; nor are we
robbers: the men whom you are solicitous to save from our vengeance, are
villains.
Be the cause what it will, answered Sir Charles, you are in a country
noted for doing speedy justice, upon proper application to the
magistrates. In the same instant he raised first one groaning man, then
the other. Their heads were all over bloody, and they were so much
bruised, that they could not extend their arms to reach their wigs and
hats, which lay near them; nor put them on without Sir Charles's help.
The men on foot by this time had mounted their horses, and all six stood
upon their defence; but one of them was so furious, crying out, that his
vengeance should be yet more complete, that two of the others could
hardly restrain him.
Sir Charles asked Sir Hargrave and Mr. Merceda, Whether they had reason
to look upon themselves as injured men, or injurers? One of the
assailants answered, That they both knew themselves to be villains.
Either from consciousness, or terror, perhaps from both, they could not
speak for themselves, but by groans; nor could either of them stand or
sit upright.
Just then came up, in the chaise, Mr. Lowther and his servant, each a
pistol in his hand. He quitted the chaise, when he came near the
suffering men; and Sir Charles desired him instantly to examine whether
the gentlemen were dangerously hurt, or not.
The most enraged of the assailants, having slipt by the two who were
earnest to restrain him, would again have attacked Mr. Merceda; offering
a stroke at him with his hanger: but Sir Charles (his drawn sword still
in his hand) caught hold of his bridle; and, turning his horse's head
aside, diverted a stroke, which, in all probability, would otherwise have
been a finishing one.
They all came about Sir Charles, bidding him, at his peril, use his sword
upon their friend: and Sir Charles's servants were coming up to their
master's support, had there been occasion. At that instant Mr. Lowther,
assisted by his own servant, was examining the wounds and bruises of the
two terrified men, who had yet no reason to think themselves safe from
further violence.
Sir Charles repeatedly commanded his servants not to fire, nor approach
nearer, without his orders. The persons, said he, to the assailants,
whom you have so cruelly used, are Englishmen of condition. I will
protect them. Be the provocation what it will, you must know that your
attempt upon them is a criminal one; and if my friend last come up, who
is a very skilful surgeon, shall pronounce them in danger, you shall find
it so.
Still he held the horse of the furious one; and three of them who seemed
to be principals, were beginning to express some resentment at his
cavalier treatment, when Mr. Lowther gave his opinion, that there was no
apparent danger of death: and then Sir Charles, quitting the man's
bridle, and putting himself between the assailants and sufferers, said,
That as they had not either offered to fly, or to be guilty of violence
to himself, his friend, or servants; he was afraid they had some reason
to think themselves ill used by the gentlemen. But, however, as they
could not suppose they were at liberty, in a civilized country, to take
their revenge on the persons of those who were entitled to the protection
of that country; he should expect, that they would hold themselves to be
personally answerable for their conduct at a proper tribunal.
The villains, one of the men said, knew who they were, and what the
provocation was; which had merited a worse treatment than they had
hitherto met with. You, sir, proceeded he, seem to be a man of honour,
and temper: we are men of honour, as well as you. Our design, as we told
you, was not to kill the miscreants; but to give them reason to remember
their villainy as long as they lived; and to put it out of their power
ever to be guilty of the like. They have made a vile attempt, continued
he, on a lady's honour at Abbeville; and, finding themselves detected,
and in danger, took roundabout ways, and shifted from one vehicle to
another, to escape the vengeance of her friends. The gentleman, whose
horse you held, and who has reason to be in a passion, is the husband of
the lady. [A Spanish husband, surely, Harriet; not a French one,
according to our notions.] That gentleman, and that, are her brothers.
We have been in pursuit of them two days; for they gave out, (in order,
no doubt, to put us on a wrong scent,) that they were to go to Antwerp.
And it seems, my dear, that Sir Hargrave and his colleague had actually
sent some of their servants that way; which was the reason that they were
themselves attended but by one.
The gentleman told Sir Charles that there was a third villain in their
plot. They had hopes, he said, that he would not escape the close
pursuit of a manufacturer at Abbeville, whose daughter, a lovely young
creature, he had seduced, under promises of marriage. Their government,
he observed, were great countenancers of the manufacturers at Abbeville;
and he would have reason, if he were laid hold of, to think himself
happy, if he came off with being obliged to perform his promises.
This third wretch must be Mr. Bagenhall. The Lord grant, say I, that he
may be laid hold of; and obliged to make a ruined girl an honest woman,
as they phrase it in LANCASHIRE. Don't you wish so, my dear? And let me
add, that had the relations of the injured lady completed their intended
vengeance on those two libertines; (a very proper punishment, I ween, for
all libertines;) it might have helped them to pass the rest of their
lives with great tranquillity; and honest girls might, for any
contrivances of theirs, have passed to and from masquerades without
molestation.
Sir Hargrave and his companion intended, it seems, at first, to make some
resistance; four only, of the seven, stopping the chaise: but when the
other three came up, and they saw who they were, and knew their own
guilt, their courage failed them.
The seventh man was set over the post-boy, whom he had led about half a
mile from the spot they had chosen as a convenient one for their purpose.
Sir Hargrave's servant was secured by them at their first attack; but
after they had disarmed him and his masters, he found an opportunity to
slip from them, and made the best of his way to the road, in hopes of
procuring assistance for them.
While Sir Charles was busy in helping the bruised wretches on their feet,
the seventh man came up to the others, followed by Sir Hargrave's chaise.
The assailants had retired to some distance, and, after a consultation
together, they all advanced towards Sir Charles; who, bidding his
servants be on their guard, leapt on his horse, with that agility and
presence of mind, for which, Mr. Beauchamp says, he excels most men; and
leading towards them, Do you advance, gentlemen, said he, as friends, or
otherwise?--Mr. Lowther took a pistol in each hand, and held himself
ready to support him; and the servants disposed themselves to obey their
master's orders.
Our enmity, answered one of them, is only to these two inhospitable
villains: murder, as we told you, was not our design. They know where we
are to be found; and that they are the vilest of men, and have not been
punished equal to their demerits. Let them on their knees ask this
gentleman's pardon; pointing to the husband of the insulted lady. We
insist upon this satisfaction; and upon their promise, that they never
more will come within two leagues of Abbeville; and we will leave them to
your protection. I fancy, Harriet, that these women-frightening heroes
needed not to have been urged to make this promise.
Sir Charles, turning towards them, said, If you have done wrong,
gentlemen, you ought not to scruple asking pardon. If you know
yourselves to be innocent, though I should be loath to risk the lives of
my friend and servants, yet shall not my countrymen make so undue a
submission.
The wretches kneeled; and the seven men, civilly saluting Sir Charles and
Mr. Lowther, rode off; to the joy of the two delinquents, who kneeled
again to their deliverer, and poured forth blessings upon the man whose
life, so lately, one of them sought; and whose preservation he had now so
much reason to rejoice in, for the sake of his own safety.
My brother himself could not but be well pleased that he was not obliged
to come to extremities, which might have ended fatally on both sides.
By this time Sir Hargrave's post-chaise was come up. He and his
colleague were with difficulty lifted into it. My brother and Mr.
Lowther went into theirs; and being but a small distance from Paris, they
proceeded thither in company; the poor wretches blessing them all the
way; and at Paris found their other servants waiting for them.
Sir Charles and Mr. Lowther saw them in bed in the lodgings that had been
taken for them. They were so stiff with the bastinado they had met with,
that they were unable to help themselves. Mr. Merceda had been more
severely (I cannot call it more cruelly) treated than the other; for he,
it seems, was the greatest malefactor in the attempt made upon the lady:
and he had, besides, two or three gashes, which, but for his struggles,
would have been but one.
As you, my dear, always turn pale when the word masquerade is mentioned;
so, I warrant, will ABBEVILLE be a word of terror to these wretches, as
long as they live.
Their enemies, it seems, carried off their arms; perhaps, in the true
spirit of French chivalry, with a view to lay them, as so many trophies,
at the feet of the insulted lady.
Mr. Lowther writes, that my brother and he are lodged in the hotel of a
man of quality, a dear friend of the late Mr. Danby, and one of the three
whom he has remembered in his will; and that Sir Charles is extremely
busy in relation to the executorship; and, having not a moment to spare,
desired Mr. Lowther to engage his friend, to whom he wrote, to let us
know as much; and that he was hastening every thing for his journey
onwards.
Mr. Beauchamp's narrative of this affair is, as I told you, very
circumstantial. I thought to have shortened it more than I have done. I
wish I have not made my abstract confused, in several material places:
but I have not time to clear it up. Adieu, my dear.