Augusta Becomes Lord Pembroke's Titular Mistress The King of Corsica's
Son--M. du Claude, or the Jesuit Lavalette--Departure of the Hanoverians
I Balance My Accounts--The Baron Stenau--The English Girl, and What She
Gave Me--Daturi--My Flight from London--Comte St. Germain--Wesel
Lord Pembroke wrote to Augusta offering her fifty guineas a month for
three years, with lodging, board, servants, and carriage at St. Albans,
without reckoning what she might expect from his grateful affection if it
were returned.
Augusta translated the letter for me, and asked for my advice.
"I can't give you any counsel," said I, "in a matter which only concerns
your own heart and your own interests."
She went up to her mother, who would come to no conclusion without first
consulting me, because, as she said, I was the wisest and most virtuous
of men. I am afraid the reader will differ from her here, but I comfort
myself by the thought that I, too, think like the reader. At last it was
agreed that Augusta should accept the offer if Lord Pembroke would find a
surety in the person of some reputable London merchant, for with her
beauty and numerous graces she was sure to, become Lady Pembroke before
long. Indeed, the mother said she was perfectly certain of it, as
otherwise she could not have given her consent, as her daughters were
countesses, and too good to be any man's mistresses.
The consequence was that Augusta wrote my lord a letter, and in three
days it was all settled. The merchant duly signed the contract, at the
foot of which I had the honour of inscribing my name as a witness, and
then I took the merchant to the mother, and he witnessed her cession of
her daughter. She would not see Pembroke, but she kissed her daughter,
and held a private colloquy with her.
The day on which Augusta left my house was signalized by an event which I
must set down.
The day after I had given the Marquis Petina's future bride the required
certificate, I had taken out Gabrielle and Hippolyta for a ride. When I
got home I found waiting for me a person calling himself Sir Frederick,
who was said to be the son of Theodore, King of Corsica, who had died in
London. This gentleman said he wished to speak to me in private, and when
we were alone he said he was aware of my acquaintance with the Marquis
Petina, and being on the eve of discounting a bill of two hundred guineas
for him he wished to be informed whether it was likely that he could meet
the bill when it fell due.
"It is important that I should be informed on that point," he added, "for
the persons who are going to discount the bill want me to put my
signature to it."
"Sir," I replied, "I certainly am acquainted with the marquis, but I know
nothing about his fortune. However, the Neapolitan ambassador assured me
that he was the Marquis Petina."
"If the persons who have the matter in hand should drop it, would you
discount the bill? You shall have it cheap."
"I never meddle with these speculations. Good day, Sir Frederick."
The next day Goudar came and said that a M. du Claude wanted to speak to
me.
"Who is M. du Claude?"
"The famous Jesuit Lavalette, who was concerned in the great bankruptcy
case which ruined the Society in France. He fled to England under a false
name. I advise you to listen to him, for he must have plenty of money."
"A Jesuit and a bankrupt; that does not sound very well."
"Well, I have met him in good houses, and knowing that I was acquainted
with you he addressed himself to me. After all, you run no risk in
listening to what he has to say."
"Well, well, you can take me to him; it will be easier to avoid any
entanglement than if he came to see me."
Goudar went to Lavalette to prepare the way, and in the afternoon he took
me to see him. I was well enough pleased to see the man, whose rascality
had destroyed the infamous work of many years. He welcomed me with great
politeness, and as soon as we were alone he shewed me a bill of Petina's,
saying,--
"The young man wants me to discount it, and says you can give me the
necessary information."
I gave the reverend father the same answer as I had given the King of
Corsica's son, and left him angry with this Marquis of Misery who had
given me so much needless trouble. I was minded to have done with him,
and resolved to let him know through his mistress that I would not be his
reference, but I could not find an opportunity that day.
The next day I took my two nymphs for a ride, and asked Pembroke to
dinner. In vain we waited for Petina's mistress; she was nowhere to be
found. At nine o'clock I got a letter from her, with a German letter
enclosed for her mother. She said that feeling certain that her mother
would not give her consent to her marriage, she had eloped with her
lover, who had got together enough money to go to Naples, and when they
reached that town he would marry her. She begged me to console her mother
and make her listen to reason, as she had not gone off with an adventurer
but with a man of rank, her equal. My lips curled into a smile of pity
and contempt, which made the three sisters curious. I shewed them the
letter I had just received, and asked them to come with me to their
mother.
"Not to-night," said Victoire, "this terrible news would keep her awake."
I took her advice and we supped together, sadly enough.
I thought the poor wretch was ruined for life, and I reproached myself
with being the cause of her misfortune; for if I had not released the
marquis from prison this could never have happened. The Marquis
Caraccioli had been right in saying that I had done a good deed, but a
foolish one. I consoled myself in the arms of my dear Gabrielle.
I had a painful scene with the mother the next morning. She cursed her
daughter and her seducer, and even blamed me. She wept and stormed
alternately.
It is never of any use to try and convince people in distress that they
are wrong, for one may only do harm, while if they are left to themselves
they soon feel that they have been unjust, and are grateful to the person
who let them exhaust their grief without any contradiction.
After this event I spent a happy fortnight in the society of Gabrielle,
whom Hippolyta and Victoire looked on as my wife. She made my happiness
and I made hers in all sorts of ways, but especially by my fidelity; for
I treated her sisters as if they had been my sisters, shewing no
recollection of the favours I had obtained from them, and never taking
the slightest liberty, for I knew that friendship between women will
hardly brook amorous rivalry. I had bought them dresses and linen in
abundance, they were well lodged and well fed, I took them to the theatre
and to the country, and the consequence was they all adored me, and
seemed to think that this manner of living would go on for ever.
Nevertheless, I was every day nearer and nearer to moral and physical
bankruptcy. I had no more money, and I had sold all my diamonds and
precious stones. I still possessed my snuff-boxes, my watches, and
numerous trifles, which I loved and had not the heart to sell; and,
indeed, I should not have got the fifth part of what I gave for them. For
a whole month I had not paid my cook, or my wine merchant, but I liked to
feel that they trusted me. All I thought of was Gabrielle's love, and of
this I assured myself by a thousand delicacies and attentions.
This was my condition when one day Victoire came to me with sadness on
her face, and said that her mother had made up her mind to return to
Hanover, as she had lost all hope of getting anything from the English
Court.
"When does she intend to leave?"
"In three or four days."
"And is she going without telling me, as if she were leaving an inn after
paying her bill?"
"On the contrary, she wishes to have a private talk with you."
I paid her a visit, and she began by reproaching me tenderly for not
coming to see her more often. She said that as I had refused her hand she
would not run the risk of incurring censure or slander of any kind. "I
thank you from my heart," she added, "for all the kindness you have shewn
my girls, and I am going to take the three I have left away, lest I lose
them as I have lost the two eldest. If you like, you may come too and
stay with us as long as you like in my pretty country house near the
capital."
Of course I had to thank her and reply that my engagements did not allow
me to accept her kind offer.
Three days after, Victoire told me, as I was getting up, that they were
going on board ship at three o'clock. Hippolyta and Gabrielle made me
come for a ride, according to a promise I had given them the night
before. The poor things amused themselves, while I grieved bitterly, as
was my habit when I had to separate from anyone that I loved.
When we came home I lay down on my bed, not taking any dinner, and seeing
nothing of the three sisters till they had made everything ready for the
journey. I got up directly before they left, so as not to see the mother
in my own room, and I saw her in hers just as she was about to be taken
down into my carriage, which was in readiness at the door. The impudent
creature expected me to give her some money for the journey, but
perceiving that I was not likely to bleed, she observed, with involuntary
sincerity, that her purse contained the sum of a hundred and fifty
guineas, which I had given to her daughters; and these daughters of hers
were present, and sobbed bitterly.
When they were gone I closed my doors to everyone, and spent three days
in the melancholy occupation of making up my accounts. In the month I had
spent with the Hanoverians I had dissipated the whole of the sum
resulting from the sale of the precious stones, and I found that I was in
debt to the amount of four hundred guineas. I resolved to go to Lisbon by
sea, and sold my diamond cross, six or seven gold snuff-boxes (after
removing the portraits), all my watches except one, and two great trunks
full of clothes. I then discharged my debts and found I was eighty
guineas to the good, this being what remained of the fine fortune I had
squandered away like a fool or a philosopher, or, perhaps, a little like
both. I left my fine house where I had lived so pleasantly, and took a
little room at a guinea a week. I still kept my negro, as I had every
reason to believe him to be a faithful servant.
After taking these measures I wrote to M. de Bragadin, begging him to
send me two hundred sequins.
Thus having made up my mind to leave London without owing a penny to
anyone, and under obligations to no man's purse, I waited for the bill of
exchange from Venice. When it came I resolved to bid farewell to all my
friends and to try my fortune in Lisbon, but such was not the fate which
the fickle goddess had assigned to me.
A fortnight after the departure of the Hanoverians (it was the end of
February in the year 1764), my evil genius made me go to the "Canon
Tavern," where I usually dined in a room by myself. The table was laid
and I was just going to sit down, when Baron Stenau came in and begged me
to have my dinner brought into the next room, where he and his mistress
were dining.
"I thank you," said I, "for the solitary man grows weary of his company."
I saw the English woman I had met at Sartori's, the same to whom the
baron had been so generous. She spoke Italian, and was attractive in many
ways, so I was well pleased to find myself opposite to her, and we had a
pleasant dinner.
After a fortnight's abstinence it was not surprising that she inspired me
with desires, but I concealed them nevertheless, for her lover seemed to
respect her. I only allowed myself to tell the baron that I thought him
the happiest of men.
Towards the close of the dinner the girl noticed three dice on the mantel
and took them up, saying,--
"Let us have a wager of a guinea, and spend it on oysters and champagne."
We could not refuse, and the baron having lost called the waiter and gave
him his orders.
While we were eating the oysters she suggested that we should throw again
to see which should pay for the dinner.
We did so and she lost.
I did not like my luck, and wishing to lose a couple of guineas I offered
to throw against the baron. He accepted, and to my annoyance I won. He
asked for his revenge and lost again.
"I don't want to win your money," said I, "and I will give you your
revenge up to a hundred guineas."
He seemed grateful and we went on playing, and in less than half an hour
he owed me a hundred guineas.
"Let us go on," said he.
"My dear baron, the luck's against you; you might lose a large sum of
money. I really think we have had enough."
Without heeding my politeness, he swore against fortune and against the
favour I seemed to be shewing him. Finally he got up, and taking his hat
and cane, went out, saying,--
"I will pay you when I come back."
As soon as he had gone the girl said:
"I am sure you have been regarding me as your partner at play."
"If you have guessed that, you will also have guessed that I think you
charming."
"Yes, I think I have."
"Are you angry with me?"
"Not in the least."
"You shall have the fifty guineas as soon as he has paid me."
"Very good, but the baron must know nothing about it."
"Of course not."
The bargain was scarcely struck before I began to shew her how much I
loved her. I had every reason to congratulate myself on her complaisance,
and I thought this meeting a welcome gleam of light when all looked dark
around me. We had to make haste, however, as the door was only shut with
a catch. I had barely time to ascertain her address and the hour at which
she could see me, and whether I should have to be careful with her lover.
She replied that the baron's fidelity was not of a character to make him
very exacting. I put the address in my pocket, and promised to pass a
night with her.
The baron came in again, and said,--
"I have been to a merchant to discount this bill of exchange, and though
it is drawn on one of the best house in Cadiz, and made out by a good
house in London, he would not have anything to do with it."
I took the bill and saw some millions mentioned on it, which astonished
me.
The baron said with a laugh that the currency was Portuguese milries, and
that they amounted to five hundred pounds sterling.
"If the signatures are known," said I, "I don't understand why the man
won't discount it. Why don't you take it to your banker?"
"I haven't got one. I came to England with a thousand gold pieces in my
pocket, and I have spent them all. As I have not got any letters of
credit I cannot pay you unless the bill is discounted. If you have got
any friends on the Exchange, however, you could get it done."
"If the names prove good ones I will let you have the money to-morrow
morning."
"Then I will make it payable to your order."
He put his name to it, and I promised to send him either the money or the
bill before noon on the day following. He gave me his address and begged
me to come and dine with him, and so we parted.
The next day I went to Bosanquet, who told me that Mr. Leigh was looking
out for bills of exchange on Cadiz, and I accordingly waited on him. He
exclaimed that such paper was worth more than gold to him, and gave me
five hundred and twenty guineas, of course after I had endorsed it.
I called on the baron and gave him the money I had just received, and he
thanked me and gave me back the hundred guineas. Afterwards we had
dinner, and fell to talking of his mistress.
"Are you in love with her?" said I.
"No; I have plenty of others, and if you like her you can have her for
ten guineas."
I liked this way of putting it, though I had not the slightest idea of
cheating the girl out of the sum I had promised her. On leaving the baron
I went to see her, and as soon as she heard that the baron had paid me
she ordered a delicious supper, and made me spend a night that
obliterated all my sorrows from my memory. In the morning, when I handed
over the fifty guineas, she said that as a reward for the way in which I
kept my promise I could sup with her whenever I liked to spend six
guineas. I promised to come and see her often.
The next morning I received a letter through the post, written in bad
Italian, and signed, "Your obedient godson, Daturi." This godson of mine
was in prison for debt, and begged me to give him a few shillings to buy
some food.
I had nothing particular to do, the appellation of godson made me
curious, and so I went to the prison to see Daturi, of whose identity I
had not the slightest idea. He was a fine young man of twenty; he did not
know me, nor I him. I gave him his letter, and begging me to forgive him
he drew a paper from his pocket and shewed me his certificate of baptism,
on which I saw my own name inscribed beside his name and those of his
father and mother, the parish of Venice, where he was born, and the
church in which he was baptized; but still I racked my memory in vain; I
could not recollect him.
"If you will listen to me," he said, "I can set you right; my mother has
told me the story a hundred times."
"Go on," said I, "I will listen;" and as he told his story I remembered
who he was.
This young man whom I had held at the font as the son of the actor Daturi
was possibly my own son. He had come to London with a troupe of jugglers
to play the illustrious part of clown, or pagliazzo, but having
quarrelled with the company he had lost his place and had got into debt
to the extent of ten pounds sterling, and for this debt he had been
imprisoned. Without saying anything to him about my relations with his
mother, I set him free on the spot, telling him to come to me every
morning, as I would give him two shillings a day for his support.
A week after I had done this good work I felt that I had caught the
fearful disease from which the god Mercury had already delivered me three
times, though with great danger and peril of my life. I had spent three
nights with the fatal English woman, and the misfortune was doubly
inconvenient under the circumstances. I was on the eve of a long sea
voyage, and though Venus may have risen from the waves of the sea, sea
air is by no means favourable to those on whom she has cast her malign
aspect. I knew what to do, and resolved to have my case taken in hand
without delay.
I left my house, not with the intention of reproaching the English woman
after the manner of fools, but rather of going to a good surgeon, with
whom I could make an agreement to stay in his house till my cure was
completed.
I had my trunks packed just as if I was going to leave London, excepting
my linen, which I sent to my washerwoman who lived at a distance of six
miles from town, and drove a great trade.
The very day I meant to change my lodging a letter was handed to me. It
was from Mr. Leigh, and ran as follows:
"The bill of exchange I discounted for you is a forgery, so please to
send me at your earliest convenience the five hundred and twenty guineas;
and if the man who has cheated you will not reimburse the money, have him
arrested. For Heaven's sake do not force me to have you arrested
to-morrow, and whatever you do make haste, for this may prove a hanging
matter."
Fortunately I was by myself when I received the letter. I fell upon my
bed, and in a moment I was covered with a cold sweat, while I trembled
like a leaf. I saw the gallows before me, for nobody would lend me the
money, and they would not wait for my remittance from Venice to reach me.
To my shuddering fit succeeded a burning fever. I loaded my pistols, and
went out with the determination of blowing out Baron Stenau's brains, or
putting him under arrest if he did not give me the money. I reached his
house, and was informed that he had sailed for Lisbon four days ago.
This Baron Stenau was a Livonian, and four months after these events he
was hanged at Lisbon. I only anticipate this little event in his life
because I might possibly forget it when I come to my sojourn at Riga.
As soon as I heard he was gone I saw there was no remedy, and that I must
save myself. I had only ten or twelve guineas left, and this sum was
insufficient. I went to Treves, a Venetian Jew to whom I had a letter
from Count Algarotti, the Venetian banker. I did not think of going to
Bosanquet, or Sanhel, or Salvador, who might possibly have got wind of my
trouble, while Treves had no dealings with these great bankers, and
discounted a bill for a hundred sequins readily enough. With the money in
my pocket I made my way to my lodging, while deadly fear dogged every
step. Leigh had given me twenty-four hours' breathing time, and I did not
think him capable of breaking his word, still it would not do to trust to
it. I did not want to lose my linen nor three fine suits of clothes which
my tailor was keeping for me, and yet I had need of the greatest
promptitude.
I called in Jarbe and asked him whether he would prefer to take twenty
guineas and his dismissal, or to continue in my service. I explained that
he would have to wait in London for a week, and join me at the place from
which I wrote to him.
"Sir," said he, "I should like to remain in your service, and I will
rejoin you wherever you please. When are you leaving?"
"In an hour's time; but say not a word, or it will cost me my life."
"Why can't you take me with you?"
"Because I want you to bring my linen which is at the wash, and my
clothes which the tailor is making. I will give you sufficient money for
the journey."
"I don't want anything. You shall pay me what I have spent when I rejoin
you. Wait a moment."
He went out and came back again directly, and holding out sixty guineas,
said,--
"Take this, sir, I entreat you, my credit is good for as much more in
case of need."
"I thank you, my good fellow, but I will not take your money, but be sure
I will not forget your fidelity."
My tailor lived close by and I called on him, and seeing that my clothes
were not yet made up I told him that I should like to sell them, and also
the gold lace that was to be used in the trimming. He instantly gave me
thirty guineas which meant a gain to him of twenty-five per cent. I paid
the week's rent of my lodging, and after bidding farewell to my negro I
set out with Daturi. We slept at Rochester, as my strength would carry me
no farther. I was in convulsions, and had a sort of delirium. Daturi was
the means of saving my life.
I had ordered post-horses to continue our journey, and Daturi of his own
authority sent them back and went for a doctor, who pronounced me to be
in danger of an apoplectic fit and ordered a copious blood-letting, which
restored my calm. Six hours later he pronounced me fit to travel. I got
to Dover early in the morning, and had only half an hour to stop, as the
captain of the packet said that the tide would not allow of any delay.
The worthy sailor little knew how well his views suited mine. I used this
half hour in writing to Jarbe, telling him to rejoin me at Calais, and
Mrs. Mercier, my landlady, to whom I had addressed the letter, wrote to
tell me that she had given it him with her own hands. However, Jarbe did
not come. We shall hear more of this negro in the course of two years.
The fever and the virus that was in my blood put me in danger of my life,
and on the third day I was in extremis. A fourth blood-letting exhausted
my strength, and left me in a state of coma which lasted for twenty-four
hours. This was succeeded by a crisis which restored me to life again,
but it was only by dint of the most careful treatment that I found myself
able to continue my journey a fortnight after my arrival in France.
Weak in health, grieved at having been the innocent cause of the worthy
Mr. Leigh's losing a large sum of money, humiliated by my flight from
London, indignant with Jarbe, and angry at being obliged to abandon my
Portuguese project, I got into a post-chaise with Daturi, not knowing
where to turn or where to go, or whether I had many more weeks to live.
I had written to Venice asking M. de Bragadin to send the sum I have
mentioned to Brussels instead of London.
When I got to Dunkirk, the day after I left Paris, the first person I saw
was the merchant S----, the husband of that Therese whom my readers may
remember, the niece of Tiretta's mistress, with whom I had been in love
seven years ago. The worthy man recognized me, and seeing his
astonishment at the change in my appearance I told him I was recovering
from a long illness, and then asked after his wife.
"She is wonderfully well," he answered, "and I hope we shall have the
pleasure of seeing you to dinner tomorrow."
I said I wanted to be off at day-break, but he would not hear of it, and
protested he would be quite hurt if I went away without seeing his wife
and his three children. At last I appeased him by saying that we would
sup together.
My readers will remember that I had been on the point of marrying
Therese, and this circumstance made me ashamed of presenting myself to
her in such a sorry plight.
In a quarter of an hour the husband arrived with his wife and three
children, the eldest of whom looked, about six. After the usual greetings
and tiresome enquiries after my health, Therese sent back the two younger
children, rightly thinking that the eldest would be the only one in whom
I should take any interest. He was a charming boy; and as he was exactly
like his mother, the worthy merchant had no doubts as to the parentage of
the child.
I laughed to myself at finding my offspring thus scattered all over
Europe. At supper Therese gave me news of Tiretta. He had entered the
Dutch East India Company's service, but having been concerned in a revolt
at Batavia, he had only escaped the gallows by flight--I had my own
thoughts as to the similarity between his destiny and mine, but I did not
reveal them. After all it is an easy enough matter for an adventurous
man, who does not look where he is going, to get hanged for a mere
trifle.
The next day, when I got to Tournay, I saw some grooms walking fine
horses up and down, and I asked to whom they belonged.
"'To the Comte de St. Germain, the adept, who has been here a month, and
never goes out. Everybody who passes through the place wants to see him;
but he is invisible."
This was enough to give me the same desire, so I wrote him a letter,
expressing my wish to speak to him, and asking him to name an hour. His
reply, which I have preserved, ran as follows:
"The gravity of my occupation compels me to exclude everyone, but you are
an exception. Come whenever you like, you will be shewn in. You need not
mention my name nor your own. I do not ask you to share my repast, far my
food is not suitable to others--to you least of all, if your appetite is
what it used to be."
At nine o'clock I paid my call, and found he had grown a beard two inches
long. He had a score of retorts before him, full of liquids in various
stages of digestion. He told me he was experimenting with colours for his
own amusement, and that he had established a hat factory for Count
Cobenzl, the Austrian ambassador at Brussels. He added that the count had
only given him a hundred and fifty thousand florins, which were
insufficient. Then we spoke of Madame d'Urfe.
"She poisoned herself," said he, "by taking too strong a dose of the
Universal Medicine, and her will shews that she thought herself to be
with child. If she had come to me, I could have really made her so,
though it is a difficult process, and science has not advanced far enough
for us to be able to guarantee the sex of the child."
When he heard the nature of my disease, he wanted me to stay three days
at Tournay for him to give me fifteen pills, which would effectually cure
me, and restore me to perfect health. Then he shewed me his magistrum,
which he called athoeter. It was a white liquid contained in a
well-stoppered phial. He told me that this liquid was the universal
spirit of nature, and that if the wax on the stopper was pricked ever so
lightly, the whole of the contents would disappear. I begged him to make
the experiment. He gave me the phial and a pin, and I pricked the wax,
and to lo! the phial was empty.
"It is very fine," said I, "but what good is all this?"
"I cannot tell you; that is my secret."
He wanted to astonish me before I went, and asked me if I had any money
about me. I took out several pieces and put them on the table. He got up,
and without saying what he was going to do he took a burning coal and put
it on a metal plate, and placed a twelve-sols piece with a small black
grain on the coal. He then blew it, and in two minutes it seemed on fire.
"Wait a moment," said the alchemist, "let it get cool;" and it cooled
almost directly.
"Take it; it is yours," said he.
I took up the piece of money and found it had become gold. I felt
perfectly certain that he had smuggled my silver piece away, and had
substituted a gold piece coated with silver for it. I did not care to
tell him as much, but to let him see that I was not taken in, I said,--
"It is really very wonderful, but another time you should warn me what
you are going to do, so that the operation might be attentively watched,
and the piece of money noted before being placed on the burning coal."
"Those that are capable of entertaining doubts of my art," said the
rogue, "are not worthy to speak to me."
This was in his usual style of arrogance, to which I was accustomed. This
was the last time I saw this celebrated and learned impostor; he died at
Schlesing six or seven years after. The piece of money he gave me was
pure gold, and two months after Field-marshal Keith took such a fancy to
it that I gave it him.
I left Tournay the next morning, and stopped at Brussels to await the
answer of the letter which I had written to M. de Bragadin. Five days
after I got the letter with a bill of exchange for two hundred ducats.
I thought of staying in Brussels to get cured, but Daturi told me that he
had heard from a rope-dancer that his father and mother and the whole
family were at Brunswick, and he persuaded me to go there, assuring me
that I should be carefully looked after.
He had not much difficulty in getting me to go to Brunswick, as I was
curious to see again the mother of my godson, so I started the same day.
At Ruremonde I was so ill that I had to stop for thirty-six hours. At
Wesel I wished to get rid of my post-chaise, for the horses of the
country are not used to going between shafts, but what was my surprise to
meet General Bekw there.
After the usual compliments had passed, and the general had condoled with
me on my weak state of health, he said he should like to buy my chaise
and exchange it for a commodious carriage, in which I could travel all
over Germany. The bargain was soon struck, and the general advised me to
stay at Wesel where there was a clever young doctor from the University
of Leyden, who would understand my case better than the Brunswick
physicians.
Nothing is easier than to influence a sick man, especially if he be in
search of fortune, and knows not where to look for the fickle goddess.
General Bekw----, who was in garrison at Wesel, sent for Dr. Pipers, and
was present at my confession and even at the examination.
I will not revolt my readers by describing the disgusting state in which
I was, suffice it to say that I shudder still when I think of it.
The young doctor, who was gentleness personified, begged me to come and
stay with him, promising that his mother and sisters should take the
greatest care of me, and that he would effect a radical cure in the
course of six weeks if I would carry out all his directions. The general
advised me strongly to stay with the doctor, and I agreed all the more
readily as I wished to have some amusement at Brunswick and not to arrive
there deprived of the use of all my limbs. I therefore gave in, but the
doctor would not hear of any agreement. He told me that I could give him
whatever I liked when I went away, and he would certainly be satisfied.
He took his leave to go and make my room ready, and told me to come in an
hour's time. I went to his house in a sedan-chair, and held a
handkerchief before my face, as I was ashamed that the young doctor's
mother and sisters should see me in the state I was in.
As soon as I got to my room, Daturi undressed me and I went to bed.