LETTER VIII.

Lovely Peggy-Lovely Mary-Shipwreck.

THERE was now a small vessel ready to sail for Lisbon, called the Lovely Peggy, captain Knight; and it was stipulated that I should take my passage on board of her. On the same evening that I received the order to the gaoler to set me free, I lost not a moment in going to this captain, to make the necessary arrangements. And my faithful but unfortunate man, John Russel, followed after me, fearing perhaps some insult; for which act of zeal he was once more to pay dear, as you will see.

It was on the night of the rejoicings for the victory of lord Nelson, and many of the yeomanry were in disorder through the streets. There was a group squibbing off cartridges on the flags in Abbey-street, through which I was to pass; and one of them taking offence that we wore our hair short, called out, " Croppies," which was their word of attack; and, just as we passed, fired a blunt cartridge into John's shoulder. I paid no attention to the shot, not knowing what had happened; and I had now a fresh proof of the magnanimity of my unfortunate companion; for he never disclosed what had happened until we were at a considerable distance, fearing, and justly, that my patience might not have been proof against such atrocity: but when at length he thought it time to discover the wound he had received, I went with him into a shop to examine it, and found that his clothes had been pierced through, and the point of the cartridge forced into the very bone. The contusion was attended with violent swelling, and the pain doubtless aggravated extremely by the quantity of unburned gunpowder which was buried in his flesh. Such was the event of the first

ten minutes of my liberty, after a seclusion of so many months. At least it was well calculated to cure me of any regret I might have at leaving my native country, which I had loved but too well, and where I could boast certainly that the esteem of my fellow-citizens was a great part of my crime. Having thus once more escaped assassination, a fate I have not been unfrequently threatened with, we returned to Bridewell; where, with my wife, I spent the last evening in the society of my fellow-sufferers.

The following day I had occasion to buy a number of things in the shops, and also to go to the customhouse for a paper called a bill of health; but was no sooner returned to my lodgings, than my brother came to tell me, that the castle was crowded with persons flocking there to complain of my being suffered to appear in the streets. A strange instance, at once, of the meanness and impudence of that faction, and of the extent to which injustice had degraded the government of that hapless country. Mr. Knox accused my brother of an abuse of confidence, in trusting me with the order for my enlargement, without restraining me from such an open act of defiance as that of appearing in the streets. I confess, that much as I had seen, and much as I had heard, and much as I had felt, I was not without astonishment at such pertinacious extravagance. But so it is, that when men have been for a length of time actuated by party spirit, still more by terror, which entirely takes away the understanding, they no longer perceive what is right or what is wrong; what is decent or what is unbecoming. And in this abandonment of their judgment, and even of their senses, they rally to the first absurdity that wears the colour of their prejudices; and when it comes to that, it is as great madness on the other side to expect any thing from reason. The only remedy then to be hoped is from time, that tries all opinions. My brother told me, that it was desired by his friend that I should write to excuse myself for having been seen in the streets; and, as he had every title to my compliance

that an affectionate brother and a sincere friend could have, I acquiesced without hesitation in the following manner, as nearly as I can remember: I mentioned that it was in consequence of an order to come out of prison that I appeared in the streets, there being no other way of coming out of prison than through the streets; and that it was the more necessary, as having engaged to go immediately abroad, I was obliged to provide myself instantly with what was necessary for my departure. That I was sure the government was powerful enough to guarantee its own order; but if it were otherwise, and that it would condescend to accept of my support, which I had now the honour of offering for the first time, I would defend the agreement it had made with me, and the order given for my liberation, with both my hands, against whoever should dare to stop me; and that without giving the government the trouble of interfering in the least. I do not know whether this note was pleasing or otherwise, but I heard no more of the matter; and, by my brother's desire, I seldom went out afterwards but in a carriage, and that towards dinner hour, although I was at liberty for near two months, during which time I made, as you will see, four unsuccessful attempts to leave my enemies behind me.

It is incredible how much I suffered during the greatest part of the months of October and November. Four different times I went to sea, and was as often driven back by furious gales of wind into the same harbour. The vessel was very small and deeply laden. In the cabin I could not be upright, and on the deck it was always wet. This, with the sea-sickness and my habitual ill health, brought me back each time to my family more like a spectre than a living man. At length I was utterly unable to proceed; and it was, but not without much harshness, agreed that I should wait a few days for another vessel going out to Oporto. This was a brig called the Lovely Mary. The Lovely

Peggy went the fifth time without me, and was captured by the Spaniards.

During all this season the weather was so tempestuous that our coasts were covered with wrecks.

There was an interval of some days between the quitting of the Peggy and embarking in the Mary that I spent in peace in the bosom of my family. But the genius of persecution could not tolerate this; and the town-major, Mr. Sirr, was sent by lord Castlereagh to inform me that I must go back to Bridewell. The vessel was at this time ready, and only waiting for a wind. At the moment that this officer entered, armed with a case of pistols, and a dagger stuck in his girdle, I was in the act of making up my trunks to embark. My wife was lending her assistance, and my children were playing on the floor. This major Sirr* is a gentleman by no means celebrated for delicacy or gentleness in the city from which he derives his office. But I will do him the justice to say, that on this occasion he seemed to have some feelings of compunction for the mission he was charged with. He consented and even proposed to wait until I should write to the castle, and state that I was already preparing to go on board the ship. It was necessary to send twice, the person to whom my first letter was addressed being absent; and all that time he remained standing in a window, as, for some reason or other, he refused to sit down. An answer came, directed to him, from lord Castlereagh, and he only asked me to pledge my word that I would go on board that evening, and took his leave.

I accordingly went to live on board this vessel, but the wind continued unfavourable, and the weather so

*For a better account of him, see Mr. Curran's speech on the trial of Hevey: he was since high sheriff of the city of Dublin, and is now a zealous reformer. It would be perhaps too curious to inquire the process by which his conversion was effected.

tempestuous, that several ships were driven ashore, even in the harbour. During this time I had no other means of conversing with my wife than by stealing up at night, and returning before day-light on board; and this not without risk, as one night a man was assassinated by the military on the road where I had to pass. Such was the proceeding of that government which was "so unwilling to resort to painful steps!"

At length, on the 24th of November, the captain was ordered against his will to sea, and on the 27th we were stranded on the coast of North Wales, on the extreme point of Carnarvonshire, near the small port of Pullhelly.

Having got so far, give me leave again to pause, that you may have some time to repose, and I be the better able to resume my story.

LETTER IX.

Ancient Britons-Duke of Portland.

By a curious whim of fortune, the soil on which I was now to look for hospitality was the identical country of those ancient Britons, who had been made the blind instruments of so many crimes against the Irish, and which they finally expiated with their lives. They had been taken from their mountains and their ploughs, and inflamed by every artifice against their unfortunate fellow-subjects in Ireland, with whom they could possibly have no quarrel. For it is worthy of note, that besides the faction in our own country, the principal part of those employed in making war upon the Irish, were the mountaineers of Scotland and Wales, and also Hessians; who, not knowing the English language

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