Introduction.

When we parted from Galesia
last, it was in St. Germain’s
Garden;Open note a02-rota See The Amours of Bosvil and Galesia, one of Mrs. Barker’s
Novels. Printed 1719. and now we meet
with her in England, travelling
in a Stage-Coach from London
Northward; where she had the Luck to
meet with good Company, who entertained
each other agreeably with Things indifferent,
suitable to the Times; thereby beguiling
the Tediousness of the Way, and
the tiresome Rocking of the Vehicle they
were in, ’till they came where the Road extended
it-self between Two Woods, a Place
well known for the many Robberies which
had been there commited.

A Here A1v

Here our Passengers began to fear it
was now their Turn to be rifled of what
they had, especially when they saw divers
Horsemen, well mounted, crossing the Way
backward and forward, in and out of the
Woods, whooping and hollowing to one
another; ’till the Sight of a Huntsman with
his Horn, and a Pack of Hounds rushing
out of the Wood, in Pursuit of a Hare which
was gone a little while before, eas’d them
of their Apprehensions, and convinc’d them,
That the Horsemen they had seen, were
only some of the Gentry of that Neighbourhood,
diverting themselves with their Dogs.
However, this Accident put them in Mind
of many criminal Adventures and Robberies,
which they related, one Story bringing
on another, as is usual amongst Company;
some of which, perhaps, will not be
disagreeable to the Reader; and therefore
I shall insert them here; beginning with
the following, as related by one of the Gentlemen.

A certain Robber that lived in Wales,
knowing the Day of Shrewsbury-Fair, came
down from the Mountains in the Night,
that he might be at the Town early enough
to slip no Opportunity that might be to his
Advantage; the Graziers-Fair beginning early
in most Places, and it being the Business
of Cheats and Robbers to watch who buys, A2r
buys, and who sells, who receives Money,
and where they carry or deposite it.

When he was got within Eight or Ten
Miles of Shrewsbury, he saw grazing in a
Farmer’s Ground a Yoke or two of large
Fat Oxen; these he thought would be ready
Money at the Fair, and accordingly
drove them away, ’till he came to a Publick
House in the Road, near the Town,
where he called to drink, and asked the
Landlord, If he had any Pasturage, where
he might graze his Oxen a while, to plump
them so as to make them appear better at
the Fair? Hereupon the Landlord put them
in a very good Pasture just by his House;
and then our Mountainier went into the
Fair, amongst the Farmers and Graziers,
and met with a Chapman, who was buying
from one Farmer to another, in order
to make up his Droves; so our Thief told
him, That he had some very good Oxen
feeding just without the Town-Gate, where
he had left them to rest a while, they being
heavy and weary. The Grazier went
readily along with him, and, in few Words,
bargained for the Beasts, paid down the
Money, and, finding the Pasture good, desired
the Landlord to let them rest there,
and he would send more to them, ’till he
had compleated his Drove: So both went
their Way, one about his Honest Calling,
the other to pursue his Wicked Projects.

A2 What A2v

What other Advantage this Thief made
at the Fair, is not come to our Knowledge:
But having taken Notice of a very pretty
Mare that ran in the same Ground with
the Oxen, he thought he would not miss
that Booty, and went in the Evening to
the same House, ordering a good Supper,
and treated himself and his Landlord
very well. In the Night he got up, and
having remarked where a Bridle and
Saddle hung, he went into the Ground,
took the Mare, and away he rode, ’till he
arrived pretty near the Place where he had
taken the Oxen. He there met the Owner
of them, who inquir’d of him concerning
his Beasts, (as he had done all about those
Parts, of every one he met) describing to
him their Age, Shape, and Marks. To
which our Thief reply’d, That in such a
Ground, belonging to such a Man, near
Shrewsbury, there were just such Oxen as
he described. The Farmer, overjoy’d to
hear of his Cattle, began to lament that
his Horse was so ridden down, that he
fear’d, he would not be able to carry
him to Shrewbury. Ah me! said he, if
I had my good Horse I was bid Money for
t’other Day, he would have done my Business.
The Mountainier presently formed
another Cheat in his Head, and seem’d to
pity the good Man, telling him, He would
lend him that Mare on which he rode, pro- A3r
provided he would give him some Mark
or Token, by which he might have the
Horse he mentioned. The Farmer, much
rejoyced hereat, told him, That he should
go to his Wife, and give her that tired
Horse, and bid her deliver the bald Horse
which was in the Stable; by the same Token,
“That he was bid Ten Guineas for him
such a Day, she being by, making up her Butter.”
By these punctual Tokens, the Thief
got the good Horse, and away he rode to
the Mountains with his Booty.

And now let us follow the Farmer;
who soon arrived at the Place where his
Oxen were grazing; and challenging them,
the Landlord refus’d to deliver them, as
not being put there by him; and, on the
other Hand, seiz’d his Mare, and the Farmer
for the Thief that stole her. This created
a great deal of Trouble between the
Landlord, the honest Farmer, and the Grazier
who had bought the Beasts; and, one
may suppose, took up much Time and Money
before the Right could be understood.
But, in Conclusion, “The Man had his Mare again.”
From whence, I suppose, said the Gentleman,
arose that Proverb.

A3 The A3v

The Gentleman having thus finish’d his
Proverbial-Story, another of the Company
was incited thereby to call to Mind a Proverbial-Story
of later Date; but first asked
the Company, If they knew how ill-dress’d
Perukes came to be called Kaxtons? To
whom all answering No; he began his
Story as follows.

There is, said he, a good Farm-House
just by the Road near Kaxton; the honest
Master of which, having, at some Market
or Fair, received Money for Goods he had
sold, was telling it over on Saturday Night,
and put up in a Bag as much as would
pay his Half-Year’s Rent, telling his Man,
That on Monday he should carry it to his
Landlord; and, at the same Time, ordered
his Labourer, (who was then receiving his
Wages) to be sure to come early on Monday-Morning
to take Care of the Yard,
while his Man was out.

Next Day, being Sunday, the Young
Man went, in the Afternoon, to visit and
divert himself amongst his Friends and Companions;
and coming home a little late,
he found the Gates shut fast, that he could
not get in; and knowing that his Mistress
Lay-in, he would not make a Noise by
knocking, lest it should disturb or fright
her, but went quietly away, and lay with
some of his Companions.

Next A4r

Next Morning he came again, thinking
to go about his Business, but found all fast
shut still; and though he knock’d often and
loud, could make No body hear: He saunter’d
about ’till towards Noon, and still it
was the same; no Noise was to be heard
but the Herds lowing in the Yard for Fodder.
Hereupon he went to the Town, and
informed several People of the Matter, who
all agreed to take a Constable and some
of the best of the Parish, and if they could
make No-body hear by knocking, e’en to
break open the Gates and Doors, and see
what should be the Matter; some conjecturing
one thing, some another; but most
concluding with the Servant, That the
good Man was gone to carry his Rent,
and the good Woman fallen into some
grievous Fit, if not dead.

In short, They broke open the Gates,
and while some went to force the House-
Doors, others proceeded to the Barn for
Straw to throw into the Cribs, and there
they beheld the most amazing Sight imaginable;
the Good Man and his Wife both
murder’d on the Floor, and two Forks
broken! Hereupon, they went towards
the House, and passing cross the Yard,
they saw the Child’s Swath dropt, and
when they came into the House, found the
Babe in the Cradle, with its Neck wrung
behind it. They proceeded then to search A4 the A4v
the House; The Goods all remain’d; but
the Money, and divers Silver Things, as
Spoons, Porringers, Cups, and the like,
were gone.

Upon due Consideration, they suspected
the Labourer, he being no where to be
found; Hereupon Hue-and-Cries were
sent forth, every way describing his Person,
Age, and Cloaths: But all in vain;
no News could be heard. The Manner of
the Murder, they conjectur’d, was on this
wise: That the Labourer was in the Barn,
and when the good Man went to give
his Beasts Fodder, the Villain fell upon
him, and he resisting, caus’d the two
Forks to be broke. The poor Woman
sitting in the House with her Child on
her Lap, hearing the Noise in the Barn,
rose hastily, and clapping the Child in
the Cradle, with its Clouts hanging loose
about it, ran to the Barn, and dropt the
Swath; which was found as aforesaid:
And so met her poor Husband’s Fate.

Thus Things pass’d without Discovery
for Seven Years, all which Time the Villain
liv’d beyond Sea. At the Seven
Years End, thinking the Matter might
be forgot, he came into England, and
being a North-country Man, directed his
Journey towards Kaxton; And calling at
an Alehouse in a Village near that Town
to drink and rest himself, it so happen’d, that A5r
that the Master of the House was Constable
at the Time he fled, when the
Hue-and Cries were after him; and now,
in Seven Years Time, the Office having
been round the Village, was come to
him again. By what Spirit or Genius this
Constable was inspired, cannot be guess’d;
but so it was, he thought this Man answer’d
the Character of the Hue-and-Cry
which came to his Hands Seven Years
before, of which, perhaps, he had the
Copy by him; Wherefore, by Virtue of
his Office, he seiz’d him, and carry’d him
before a Justice, who examin’d and committed
him: But the Crime of which
he was suspected being committed Southward,
near Kaxton, he was conveyed
thither to be Try’d; At what Time, there
were many Witnesses appear’d to testify
that he was the Labourer in that Farmyard,
when this Murder was committed;
all which he most stedfastly deny’d, protesting,
that he never was there in his Life, nor
knew the Place. At last, the Servant of
that Farm, who knew him very well by his
Face and Speech, added one Circumstantial
more, saying, That the Man who then
thrash’d in the Barn, had a Running-Sore
on his Side; which, said he, I have divers
times help’d him to dress; so that if the
Sore should be heal’d, there must needs be
a Scar. Hereupon the Part being search’d, A5 and A5v
and the Scar plainly appearing, he could no
longer oppose or deny so manifest a Truth.
He was hang’d in Chains by the Road-side
near Kaxton; an Example of the most vile
Cruelty that could be committed.

There happen’d to pass some Cambridge
Scholars that way to visit some Friends
thereabouts; and the Weather being a
little turbulent, the Wind and Wet so discompos’d
their Wiggs, that when they
came in, they fancy’d them to look like
that on the Head of the Hang’d Man.
This Fancy they carry’d back with them
to Cambridge, and there broach’d it amongst
the Youth of their Time; which, by Degrees,
spread over the Nation. Afterwards,
by reason of many of our young
Gentlemen going into the Wars in divers
and distant Countries, this Fancy was carried
with them, so that in most Parts of Europe,
to this Day, an ill-dress’d Wigg is call’d “A Caxton, or Kak.”

According to the usual Proverb as aforesaid,
“One Story begets another”, so it happen’d
amongst this Company: The next
Gentleman said, That forasmuch as the
two former had embellish’d their Stories by
Proverbs, he would not offer to the Company
a Relation but what he knew to be Truth.

There was, said he, a certain Gentleman
of Distinction, who at his Death, left three A6r
three Daughters Coheiresses, under the Guardianship
of their Uncle his Brother. The
Gentleman being dead, the young Ladies,
by Advice of their Uncle, broke up House,
and sold their Goods, in order to put
themselves into Places of polite Education,
thereby to improve themselves before they
entredentered into a Married State.

In order to which, their Family was retrench’d,
Servants paid off, and Goods
sold; And every Thing being thus dispos’d,
and they ready to leave the House,
there came one Evening, a Gentleman
that had lost his Way, and, driven by
ill Weather, begg’d Refuge at this House.
The young Ladies were fearful to receive
him, their Family being small, and the
Situation distant from Neighbours: But
Commiseration of the Gentleman’s distrest
Condition moving them, at last they entertain’d
him very kindly, made a handsome
Supper, and lodg’d him in a good
Room; but withal, took Care to fasten his
Door, and all Passages that led to it, in order
to secure themselves from any wicked
Intention he might possibly have to let
in any Gang of Villains to destroy or
disturb them: And, for their better Security,
they resolv’d not to go to Bed that
Night; but sate up, often descanting
on their Folly, in having admitted
this Stranger, which was the Cause of their Dis- A6v
Discomposure. Then would they reflect on
his Horse, Pistols, and Accoutrements, all
which, they fancy’d, had more the Air
of an Highway-man, than a solitary unfortunate
Traveller. Then again, they
would reflect on the Genteelness of his
Person and Behaviour; the Honesty and
Integrity of his Countenance; the Agreeableness
of his Discourse, all tending to Vertue
and Honesty, and adorn’d with Wit
and good Humour.

Thus, Pro and Con, they entertain’d
and rejected their Fears, ’till after Midnight;
and then their wavering Apprehensions
were turn’d into a substantial
thorow Fright; for they heard at the
Drawing-room Door, which open’d into
the Garden, a Noise of breaking open;
which made them presently conclude it
to be some of the Traveller’s Companions,
who, because he could not let ’em in, being
fast lock’d up, had betaken themselves to
this forcible Entry.

Thus being frighted, distressed, and distracted;
they went to see what was become
of the Traveller; but they peeping
and listening at the Door, could perceive
nothing, but that he was fast asleep;
Whereupon they took Courage, enter’d his
Chamber, awak’d him, and told him their
Distress. He immediately got up, took
his Sword and Pistols, went with them to the A7r
the Drawing-Room, and found the Door almost
ready to give the Villains Entrance:
The Door and the Jaumb being shatter’d,
the Gentleman had the better Opportunity
to let fly at them; which he did, and
with such Success, that one of them fell
down dead, or sore wounded; and the
others had enough to do to get him away,
and themselves off clear.

We may imagine how they spent the
rest of the Night; the least Part of which,
we may suppose, pass’d in Sleep. Next
Morning, they earnestly invited the Traveller
to stay with them the coming Day,
to prevent any farther Frights, though, we
may reasonably suppose, they provided
themselves of Assistance for the ensuing
Night. The Gentleman was too Generous
to refuse their Request, at least for a Day,
hoping their Spirits, which were greatly
disorder’d by the Night’s Distractions,
might be restored in that Time.

They had scarce din’d, when a Messenger
came from their Uncle, who liv’d
about Four Miles off, to invite them to
his Son’s Funeral the next Day. They
were greatly surprized at this sudden and
unexpected News; and divers Questions
they ask’d the Messenger; testified much
Grief for the Death of their dear Cousin;
promis’d to go and pay that last Respect
to his Memory; and with many dutiful and A7v
and compassionate Services to their Uncle,
dismis’d the Messenger.

Then they desir’d the Traveller to go
along with them on the Morrow, that
they might present him to their Uncle, as
the Author of their Safety. He was not
hard to be persuaded to defer his Journey, or
suspend his Business; Beauty and Fortunes
being always most powerful Rhetoricians.

In short, he went along with them;
where, we will suppose, they found all the
Desolation suitable to such an Occasion.
The Ladies desired to see their Cousin, e’er
he was interr’d; but he was fasten’d up
before they came: This increas’d the Gentleman’s
Suspicion, who having laid many
Ends together, being greatly to believe
there was some foul Play. Wherefore,
without saying a Word, he went to some
Officers of Justice, which he brought along
with him, and commanded the Coffin to be
open’d, and the Corps search’d: In so
doing, they found a Wound in the Body,
which had been his Death; upon which
surprizing Spectacle, the whole Family
was seized; And now, being in the Hands
of Justice, the old Man’s Grief and Remorse
would not permit him to conceal
any-thing; but he freely and openly
own’d, That he and his Son design’d to
murder the young Ladies, and so become
Lords of their Inheritance.

This A8r

This free Confession soon put a Period
to his Afflictions, by the Help of a Shameful
Death; and the young Gentleman,
who was a younger Brother, made his
Fortune and himself Happy in the Marriage
of one of the Ladies. And thus,
according to the Proverb, “One good Turn deserves Another.”

The Company having return’d the
Gentleman Thanks, told Galesia, That
they hop’d she had some Story or Adventure
wherewith to oblige them. To which
she reply’d, That, truly, she had pass’d
so many Years out of England, that she
should be obliged to conduct their Attention
as far as Paris. And so proceeded.

I suppose, said she, you all know there
is a great Fair, in the Fauxbourgh Saint
Germains at Paris, kept at a certain Time
of the Year; wherein there are, besides all
sorts of Merchandize, Shews, Games, and
Raffling, &c.

Hither it was that a Gentlewoman and
I were going, a little to divert ourselves
amongst other Holy-day Fools, and passing
through Luxembourg-Garden, we sate
down on a Bench, a-while to rest ourselves:
Where, regarding the well-built House of
Luxembourg, wherein lived the Princess Madam- A8v
Madamoiselle de Monpensier, we began to
reflect on the Folly of that Lady, for adhering
to the Rebels in the King’s Minority,
and how unfortunate she had made
herself in having lost his Majesty’s Favour
for so doing. Whilst we were in this Discourse,
a Gentleman of our own Country
came to us, and asked, If we were design’d
for the Fair? We told him Yes. There has
been, said he, a great Bustle in the Fair
to Day. Whereupon we desired him to
sit down, and tell us what was the Occasion.

Last Night, said he, there were Gentlemen
raffled in a Booth ’till it was pretty
late. At last, the Losers having pretty
well emptied their Pockets, departed. He
that was the chief Winner, was also about
to go; but the Master of the Booth dissuaded
him, telling him, That there were
many Spies about the Fair, taking Notice
of those that were Winners; and when
they went away, took Opportunity to
rob, and sometimes murder them: And
you, Sir, continued he, having won considerable,
will be in Danger; wherefore, I
beg you to remain here ’till Day-light.
The Gentleman found the Advice very reasonable,
and sate himself down in an Easy-
Chair, and bid them make him a Pot of
Chocolate, and he would there get a
little Sleep.

So A9r

So said, so done; but in the Chocolate,
they put a good Dose of Opium;
and when he was fallen into a sound Sleep,
they murder’d him, cut him in Pieces,
and carry’d him out to a Common Shore,
into which they threw him.

In the Morning, a Foot of him was seen
by Passengers, who calling Officers of
Justice, got out the Body Piece-meal as
it was, as also the Head; and amongst all
this, a Plate, which was writ on, belonging
to such a Cook.

The Cook and his Family were hereupon
seiz’d and examined, who knew nothing
of the Matter, but call’d to Mind to
whom they had sent out Meat that Day,
and who had, or had not return’d the
Plates. At last the People of the foresaid
Booth were seiz’d and examin’d: Conscience,
which flew in their Faces, would
not permit them to deny it much: The
Maid own’d, that she carried the Head
out upon a Plate, which Plate slipp’d out
of her Hands when she threw the Head into
the Common Shore. “Thus Murder will out.”

Thus Four of our Passengers told their
melancholy Stories, which the Danger of
the Road had first brought into their Memories.
There was a Fifth, a young Lady Daugh- A9v
Daughter to one of the Gentlemen; so
they ask’d, If she had not a Story wherewith
to oblige the Company? To which
she reply’d, That she had no Story of that
kind; being but, lately come out of a Nunnery,
(where her Father had plac’d her for
a safe Education, Death having depriv’d
her of her Mother); but she would relate a
Transaction which happen’d in the said
Convent.

There was a beautiful young Lady said
she, and a Gentleman, suitable in Years,
Quality, and all other Accomplishments of
Mind and Person, who contracted a mutual
Affection for each other; but the Gifts of Fortune
were not such as could probably make
them happy; for which Reason, the Parents
on both Sides oppos’d their Espousals.

The young Lady, finding that she could
not give her Person to him to whom
she had surrender’d her Affections, implored
the Favour of her Parents, to let her
enter into a Convent, where, amongst those
holy Votaries, she might endeavour to
overcome her Passion. Her Friends consented
to the Proposal, concluding that
Time and perpetual Absence might give
her that Tranquility which could not be
had otherwise.

Our young Lady being in the Convent,
began to be charm’d with that devout and
heavenly Way of Living: Such Regularityrity A10r
and Exactitude in their Religious Performances:
Such Patience; such Obedience:
Such Purity of Manners; by which
those holy Souls climb to Heaven; that,
considering the Difficulty, or rather, Impossibility
of ever possessing her Cavalier,
she resolved to bury all Thoughts of him,
together with her own Beauty, under a
holy Veil: To which her Friends giving
Consent, though very unwillingly, she
betook herself to a Religious Habit, in
order to perform her Time of Probation.
In the mean time, our Cavalier was
ingaged in the Army far distant, both performing
their Duties according to their Stations.

And now, behold the Vicissitude of
Human Affairs: Our Cavalier, by his valiant
and noble Atchievements, was advanc’d
to great Honours in the Army,
and at the same Time he had an Uncle
dy’d, who left him an Estate that seem’d
to put him above the Reach of adverse
Fortune; and not knowing the Fate of
his Beloved Mistress, he returned Home,
not fearing any Obstacle in his Addresses,
(after such Acquisitions of Glory and Fortune)
either from the young Lady or her
Parents.

But, alas! when he came and found
his dear Mistress ingaged in a Religious
Order, how great his Affliction was, is hard A10v
hard to describe. Ah! said he, had she
been taken Prisoner by the Turk, one
might hope, by Valour or Money, for
her Inlargement: or had she been married
to some old unworthy Rival, Time
or Death might provide her a Release;
or was she confin’d or forbidden by the
Caprice of humoursome Parents, Respect,
Duty, and Indearments to them, might
gain not only their Consent, but their
Affections. But, as it is, (O wretched as
I am! unfortunate and miserable!) I am
not only deprived of all Hopes of injoying
her, but of ever seeing her; Nor can
so much as the least Line from me reach
her Hands; Nay, so unhappy I am, that
it is said to be a Crime in me even to
complain to my-self. Unhappy that I
am! to have mov’d and acted in Showers
of Bullets untouch’d, and now to sink under
the most incurable of all Wounds! I
coveted the Glory of Conquest, and the
Riches of Reward, for no other End, but
to render me more acceptable to her, and
her Parents. I have no Taste of the Glory
of Victory, or the Pleasure of Plenty,
since she is not to be Copartner in my
Glory or Abundance.

These and a thousand such Lamentations
he utter’d when alone, or only in the
hearing of a little pretty Hugonot-Page,
which he had taken whilst in the Army, who A11r
who hearing his Complaints, took the Liberty
to speak to his Master, telling him,
That he doubted not but by his Means
he might find a way to correspond with
this his Religious Mistress, and know,
at least, whether she had thus sequester’d
her self from him out of real Devotion,
or the Persuasions of her Parents, or Despair
of the Continuation of his Kindness;
for the last of which he thought she had
no Reason; for though he was long absent,
and far distant, yet he had not
fail’d to give her perpetual Assurances in
Writing, not reflecting how difficult, if
not impossible, it is in those Places for
Letters to come to the Hands of the Beloved.
But to return to our Page:

The Master and he agreed, that he
should be dress’d like a Girl, and put
into that Convent, to be educated in good
Manners, and instructed in Religion. This
they contriv’d with the utmost Dexterity,
and executed with Success. And now
behold our Page-Damsel is got into the
Convent with full Instructions from his
Master, to the young Nun, or rather Novice;
for, as Luck was, she was not yet
profess’d, though she had been there above
a Year; the Order of that House requiring
Two Years Probation.

And here the young Gentlewoman who
related the Story, read to us the following Let- A11v
Letter, which the Cavalier intrusted to
the young Hugonot, which, she said, she
had procured a Copy of.

“The Letter. Madam, I cannot tell whether Grief or Surprize
have the greatest Share in my
Breast, to find you ingaged in a State so
absolutely destructive to my Happiness;
but both exceed all Degrees of Comparison.
Ah! my fair and dear Creature, how could you
be so cruel to your self and me! For I flatter
my-self, it was and is a Cruelty to You
as well as to Me your fond Lover: I say,
How could you abandon me to Despair? In
which I would say (if I durst) that you are
not only Unkind, but Criminal: For you
ought not thus to have given yourself away
without my Consent or Knowledge. Recollect,
how often you have assured me of your Affections,
and everlasting Love; and that the
only Objection you or your Parents had against
our Espousals, was Narrowness of Fortune.
But that Objection being remov’d,
you ought to be wholly Mine; You ought
not to give away that which is not your
own. Stollen goods are an unworthy, nay,
an impious Offering to Heaven. King Saul sav’d A12r
sav’d that which was none of his, to sacrifice
to the Lord, and how unacceptable it was,
I desire you to consider, and make the Application.
Think on these Things, my Bright, my
Fair, my Dear Charmer: And think what
Injustice you do me, every Moment you
deprive me of your Person. And, believe
it, you are but a Murderer, as long as you
seclude yourself from me, who cannot live
without you: Therefore, bethink yourself
of the Injury you do me; and repair all, by
the Surrender of your Person to me, who
have the True and Real, though not the
common Legal Right to alledge. The young Lady that gives you this,
will take Measures with you; Take Courage
then, my dearest Life! to put in Practice
what is so well contrived; and so
make Happy the most Faithful of Lovers,
even Your Constant and Passionate, Chevalier.”

This Letter our young Hugonot found
an Opportunity, to deliver, though with
great Difficulty; for in those Houses they
correspond very little, but live in Solitude
and Silence, nor ever go into each other’s Cells, A12v
Cells, those Places being the Recesses for
solitary Meditation: But more especially
the Religious Dames converse not with
the young Ladies who are there for Education,
except those that are placed over
them, as Teachers and Governesses. Nevertheless,
our fair Messenger, found some
lucky Moment to deliver the Letter, and
recount to her the Griefs her Cavalier
suffer’d for her sake, the many Sighs he
breath’d, the many Tears he shed, and
Groans he utter’d, with continual Languishing
in Discontent and Despair; All
which so touch’d our Novice, that she began
to regret what she had done, and to
wish she could find a Way, handsomely
and without Contempt, to undo what she
had done.

Millions of Things she revolved in her
Mind, discuss’d the Matter between the
poor State of a Religious Life, destitute
of all Comforts, and those Pleasures which
are to be found in a Plentiful Fortune,
with a noble young Husband, honour’d
with Wreaths of martial Glory; In all
which she made her own Inclinations Arbitrator
between Heaven and Earth, God
and the World, &c.—After many Debates
with herself, she wrote to her Cavalier
as follows.

Sir, a1r “Sir, Your Letter has so ruffled my whole
Interior, that I know not how to write
common Sense: Therefore, if my Answer be
unintelligible, blame me not, for I am utterly
lost in an Abyss of Confusion: The
Thoughts of breaking my holy Resolutions on
one Hand, and the Sufferings which the
keeping them, makes us both undergo, on the
other, distracts me. My dear Chevalier!
change your Reproaches into Pity: I will endeavour
to repair my Faults: Faults! did I
say? Ah me! it is a Crime, to call this my
Religious Enterprize a Fault! My Thoughts,
Words, Writings, on this Occasion, are
Faults! The very Corresponding with the
young Lady you placed here, is a Fault! Yet,
a Fault so sweet, so delicious, that I cannot
refrain, because she recounts a thousand
tender Things of you; repeats your Sighs
and Grief in such soft and melting Words
and Accents, as would soften the most obdurate
Heart. Then, what Effect, think you, must it have
on Mine, which is prepared to be set on
Fire by the least Spark struck from your dear
Assurances, which she most industriously blows
into a Flame, not to be suppres’d by any devout
Sighs, Tears, or other Religious Mortifications;
by which I suffer a perpetual Martyrdom,a dom, a1v
and see no Way of Delivery, but by adhering
to your Advice sent by her, and come
to your Arms: Those dear glorious Arms!
those Arms, that have honoured your Family,
Friends, and Native Country! Those Arms,
that have crown’d the Hero with Lawrels,
and the Lover with Myrtles. Those Arms,
that have greatly help’d to subdue the Enemies
of France, and built Trophies in the
Hearts of the Fair. O! can I refuse my Hero? Can I refuse my
Lover? Can I refuse my dear Chevalier?
Indeed, I cannot! No, no, I cannot! I will
not! The Temptation is too great to be resisted
by frail Mortality. Wherefore, my beloved Chevalier, I will
comply with those Measures you and your
young Hugonot have taken.”

This Letter being writ, our Two young
Ladies were greatly embarrass’d how to
get it to the Cavalier’s Hands: At last,
they thought on the following Means.
The Hugonot work’d a curious fine Purse,
and begg’d Leave of the Abbess to present
it to her Patron the Cavalier. So between
the Lining and the Out-side they plac’d this
Letter, writ on fine Paper and in a small Character,
and so convey’d it to the Cavalier.

Now the Way, contriv’d to extricate the
Fair Novice from the Convent, was thus; That a2r
That the Cavalier should be present at the
Altar, when she should come to take her
Religious Vows; At what Time, she declar’d
before the whole Congregation, That
all the Vow she meant to take, should be
in Holy Marriage to that Gentleman, taking
him by the Hand. This surpriz’d
the whole Congregation; in particular,
her Parents, and the Quire of Nuns. Some
blam’d the Boldness of that Proceeding,
saying she might have gone out quietly
and privately: Others prais’d the generous
open Way she had taken. The Clergy,
which were there assembled, all told her
Parents, That they could not refuse their
Consent, since she had demanded him at
the Altar of God. All the Quality there
(which were many, who came to assist and
grace the Ceremony) said the same. The
Parents were very well content, only
wish’d she had proceeded otherwise, and
not made herself the Publick Subject of
a Nine Days Wonder.

In short, all were pleas’d, and the Marriage
was accomplished to every Body’s
Satisfaction, except to that of the young
Hugonot; Who came forth, and, on her
Knees, begg’d Pardon for having deluded
her Master; For, indeed, said she, I am
not a Boy, as I pretended to be, but a
foolish Girl, that took that Disguise upon
me to be near your Person; that illustriousa2 ous a2v
Person, which not only dazled the
Eyes of me, an unthinking Maid, but
which, joyn’d with your Noble Actions,
made all Hearts rejoice. But when I came
to be Witness of your Grief for this Lady,
Pity and Generosity supplanted Affection,
and made me undertake this Enterprize;
for which, I humbly beg Pardon of all these
holy Votaries; and that they will receive
me a Member of their Pious Society; in
which Station, I shall offer my daily
Prayers for the Happiness and Prosperity
of this Noble Couple.

This Discovery was a Surprize greater
than the other; But there being many of
the dignified Clergy as well as Quality,
all interceded so, that, in short, the Nuns
received the Hugonot; the Couple was
married; and Things were brought to a
happy Conclusion.

The Company return’d Thanks to the
young Lady, for her diverting Story:
And by this Time, the Coach was got to
the Town, where the Company were all
to alight, except Galesia, who was to go
alone in the Coach to the End of the
Stage. It happen’d, that there was another
Stage-Coach stopp’d at the same Place,
and set out at the same Time with hers;
and whether the Bounty of the Passengers
had over-filled the Heads of the Coachmen,men, a3r
or what other Freak, is unknown;
but they drove the Two Coaches full Gallop,
’till they came to a Bridge, and there
one Coach jostled the other so, that that
in which was our Galesia, fell, together
with its Horses, off the Bridge into the
River.

By good Luck, this Bridge was at the
Entry of a little Village, so that People
hastened to their Assistance; some helping
the Horses, some the Coach, and some
with Difficulty getting out Galesia; Who
however, when she was got out, found no
Hurt, only was very wet: She was much
pity’d by the good People; amongst whom
there was a poor Woman took her under
the Arm, and told her, she would conduct
her to a House, where she might be accommodated
with all Manner of Conveniencies.

All wet and dropping, she got to this
House, which was a poor Village-Alehouse;
and a poor one indeed it was;
It being Evening, the Woman of the House
was gone out a Milking, so that the good
Man could come at no Sheets, that she
might have got rid of her wet Cloaths,
by going to Bed; However, he laid on a
large Country Faggot; so she sat and smoaked
in her wet Cloaths, ’till the good Woman
came; who hasten’d and got the Bed Sheeted,
into which she gladly laid herself; a3 but a3v
but the poorest that her Bones ever felt,
there being a few Flocks that stank; and
so thin of the same, that she felt the
Cords cut through. The Blankets were
of Thread-bare Home-spun Stuff, which
felt and smelt like a Pancake fry’d in
Grease; There were Four Curtains at
the Four Corners, from whence they could
no more stir, than Curtains in a Picture;
for there were neither Rods nor Ropes for
them to run upon; no Testern, but the
Thatch of the House; A Chair with a
Piece of a Bottom, and a brown Chamberpot,
furr’d as thick as a Crown Piece.

However, all this was a better Lodging
than the Bottom of the River; and great
and many Thanks were due to God for it.
The good Woman was kind, and brought
Galesia a good wooden Dish-full of boil’d
Milk, well crumb’d with brown Barley-
Bread; which she persuaded her to eat,
to drive out the Cold. She took Care to
get her Cloaths dry, and brought them to
her, e’er she went a Milking. And notwithstanding
all these Hardships, she got
no Cold, Cough or Lameness; but arose
well-refresh’d; took Leave of her Landlord
and departed, directing her Steps and Intentions
towards the Town were the Stage-
Coach’d Inn’d.

But it so happen’d, in this her Journey,
that she lost her Way, and got, she knew not a4r
not how, into a fine Park, amongst Trees,
Firs, Thickets, Rabbet-burrows, and such
like; nor knew she where she was, nor
which Way to go; but standing still a
little while to consider, she heard a Tomtit
sing in a Tree, as her musing Fancy
made her imagine, “Sit thee down, sit thee down, sit thee down, sit.”

At the same time looking on one Side,
she saw a handsome Seat at a very little
Distance, to which she went, and obey’d
the threefold Advice. As she sat there to
rest herself, revolving divers Thoughts, a
little Hedge-Sparrow in a Bush, sung,
“Chear-up, Chear-up;” Ah! poor Bird! said
she, thou givest me good Counsel; but that
is all thou hast to give; and bare Words
help little to a hungry Stomach, and I
know not where to fill mine, unless I
could eat Grass like the Four-footed Beasts.

As she was in these Thoughts, a Crow
sitting in a Tree, with a hoarse Voice, seem’d
to say “Good-Luck, Good-Luck!” If thou art
a true Prophet, said Galesia, the Birds of
thy Colour, shall no more be counted Birds
of Ill Omen, but the Painters shall put a
long Tail to you, and the Poets shall call
you Birds of Paradise.

As she was thus musing on the Language
of the Birds, she heard a Noise of Hunting in a4v
in the Park, Horns winding, Men hollowing,
and calling “Ringwood, Rockwood, ho!
Boman! Blossom, ho.” She then began to reflect
how necessary this Diversion was:
Alas! said she, if it was not for this, we
might all lodge as bad as I did last Night.
We are beholden to Ringwood and Jowler,
for many a Dainty Morsel which Reynard
would deprive us of, if it were not for this
Pack of Allies, who oppose his Tyranny;
Who otherwise would not only over-run
the Woods, and Farmers Yards, ’till there
is neither Cocks nor Hens, but would also
ravage the Fens and Islands, the Habitations
of Ducks and Geese; Then long live
Ringwood, Rockwood, Boman and Jowler, by
whose Industry we eat good Bits, and lie
on good Beds.

Whilst Galesia was in these Cogitations,
the Dogs and Hunters came very near
where she was sitting; amongst whom,
was a Lady, mounted on a beautiful Steed,
who beginning to grow weary of the Chace,
order’d her Servants to stop, and help her
off her Horse, resolving to walk home over
the Park, it being a fine smooth Walk betwixt
two Rows of Lime trees, planted and
grown in exact Form, agreeable to the Eye,
pleasing to the Smell, and making a most
delightful Shade. The Lady directing her
Eyes and Steps towards this Walk, she saw
Galesia sitting in the disconsolate Posture afore- a5r
aforesaid, and being not a little surpriz’d
to see a Gentlewoman all alone in that
desolate Place, could not avoid interrogating
her thereupon.

Galesia, in few and respectful Words,
inform’d the Lady of her Disaster of being
overthrown into the River the Day before,
and her bad Lodging at Night, and her
losing her Way that Morning, all which
made her betake herself to that Seat. The
Lady most courteously and charitably took
her along with her to House, which was
a Noble Structure, situate in the midst of
that Park. Here she entertain’d her very
kindly; assuring her of all Assistance to
convey her to the Place to which she was
design’d, when she had rested and recover’d
her Fatigue. In the mean Time, she diverted
her, by shewing Galesia her Gardens,
House, and glorious Appartments, adorn’d
with rich Furniture of all Sorts; some were
the Work of hers and her Husband’s Ancestors,
who delighted to imploy poor Gentlewomen,
thereby to keep them from Distress,
and evil Company, ’till Time and
Friends could dispose Things for their better
Settlement.

At last, the Lady shew’d her an Appartment
embellish’d with Furniture of her own
making, which was Patch-Work, most
curiously compos’d of rich Silks, and Silver
and Gold Brocades: The whole Furniture was a5v
was compleated excepting a Screen,
which the Lady and her Maids were going
about. Her Ladyship told Galesia, She
would take it kindly if her Affairs would
permit her to stay with her some time, and
assist her in her Screen. Which Invitation
Galesia most gladly accepted, begging
the Lady to send to the next Stage of the
Coach and Carrier, for her Trunks and
Boxes, which contained her Wearing-
Cloaths. The Lady forthwith sent for the
Things, hoping that therein they might
find some Bits of one thing or other, that
might be useful to place in the Screen.
But when the Trunks and Boxes came, and
were opened, alas! they found nothing but
Pieces of Romances, Plays, Love-Letters,
and the like: At which the good Lady
smil’d, saying, She would not have her
Fancy balk’d, and therefore resolved to
have these ranged and mixed in due Order,
and thereof compose a Screen.

And thus it came to pass, that the following
Screen was compos’d.