These plausible reasons of M. de Lambertie decided us to choose the latter alternative. This good nobleman kept his the next day; that he could still procure our exemption from joining it; but that he must warn us, so that we might have the choice of going or remain-word; for instead of chaining ing, that this would be the last us to the twenty-five or thirty chain which would go to the galley-slaves who composed the Dunkirk galleys; that all the band, and who went on foot, subsequent ones would go to he put us into a cart, and every Marseilles, a journey of more evening they gave us a good than three hundred leagues, bed. The officer of the archers which would be much harder who guarded the chain made and more painful for us; that us take our meals at his table we should be obliged to do it at Ypres, Furnes, and other all on foot, with the chain round places which we passed through, our necks. Moreover, he should so that we were taken for people have to go himself into the of distinction. But, alas! this country in the month of March, comfort was only a smoke, which and would no longer be able to soon disappeared; for the third render us any service at Lille. day after our departure from He advised us, therefore, to Lille, we arrived in Dunkirk, start with the chain which to- when we were all placed in the morrow began its journey to galley L'Heureuse, commanded Dunkirk. This chain was under by Captain de la Pailletine, his orders as far as that town; who was the head of the squadhe would have us conveyed ron of six galleys which were apart from the other galley- in the port.-By permission from slaves in a cart, as comfortably the Autobiography of a French as possible, the distance being Galley-Slave.' about twelve leagues. CHAPTER II. THE ESCAPE OF THE EARL OF NITHSDALE FROM THE TOWER. It was at the surrender of Pres- |ceived the melancholy tidings Although at Terregles, near Traquair in Peeblesshire, when the news reached her, consulting only her affection, this nobleminded woman determined to set off without delay. In these days, when conveyances were of the most imperfect kind, a hasty journey, at such a dreary season, to the British capital was not a light undertaking. She rode to Newcastle on horseback, whence she proceeded to York by stage. On her arrival at York, the country was covered to such a depth with snow, and the weather was so inclement, that it was impossible for the stage to continue its progress. Even the mail could not be forwarded. But while her husband stood in need of comfort and succour, she was not to be stopped by the formidable obstacles which were opposed to her. She resolutely took horse, and though the snow was generally above the horse's girths, she reached London safe and sound, without any accident. But though she had happily accomplished her toilsome journey, there were still serious difficulties to be overcome. On applying to the government to be allowed to see her husband, she met with a repulse; she was told that her wish could not be granted, unless she would consent to be shut up with him in the Tower. To this, however, she would not submit, and she assigned as her reason, that she was in a state of health which would not suffer her to undergo confinement. Her real motive for refusing was, that her being thus secluded would prevent her from soliciting in her husband's behalf, and, which was of far more importance, would render abortive a scheme which she had already formed to effect his escape. The negative which she had received from the government did not prevent her from obtaining frequent interviews with her husband. By bribing the guards she often contrived to see her lord, till the day upon which he was condemned; after that she was allowed, for the last week, to see and take her leave of him. As soon as she arrived in London, she began her exertions to ward off the danger which hung over the man she loved. Her first applications were made to persons in office, and those possessing political influence. The result would have disheartened any one less determined than she was to persevere. Not a single individual held out to her the slightest hope; from every mouth she heard the dreadful assurance, that though some of the captives would be pardoned, it was absolutely certain that Lord Nithsdale would not be included in the number. From a direct appeal to the sovereign there was little or no prospect of benefit. George 1. is said to have expressly prohibited any petition being conveyed into his hands from the earl, and even to have taken precautions to avoid a personal supplication being made to him. Lord Nithsdale, however, was he might stop and hear me. He endeavoured to escape out of my hands, but I kept such strong hold, that he dragged me on my knees from the middle of the room to the very door of the drawing-room. At last one of the blue ribbons who attended his majesty took me round the waist, while another wrested the coat out of my hands. The petition, which I had endeavoured to thrust into his pocket, fell down in the scuffle, and I almost fainted away through grief and disappointment. One of the gentlemen in waiting picked up the petition; and as 'So the first day that I heard the king was to go to the drawing-room, I dressed myself in black, as if I had been in mourn-I knew that it ought to have ing, and sent for Mrs. Morgan (the same who accompanied me to the Tower); because, as I did not know his majesty personally, I might have mistaken some other person for him. She stayed by me, and told me when he was coming. I had another lady with me (Lady Nairn), and we remained in a room between the king's apartments and the drawing-room, so that he was obliged to go through it; and as there were three windows in it, we sat in the middle one, that I might have time enough to meet him before he could pass. I threw myself at his feet, and told him in French that I was the unfortunate Countess of Nithsdale, that he might not pretend to be ignorant of my person. But perceiving that he wanted to go off without receiving my petition, I caught hold of the skirt of his coat, that been given to the lord of the bedchamber, who was then in waiting, I wrote to him, and entreated him to do me the favour to read the petition which I had had the honour to present to his majesty. Fortunately for me, it happened to be my Lord Dorset, with whom Mrs. Morgan was very intimate. Accordingly, she went into the drawing-room and delivered him the letter, which he received very graciously. He could not read it then, as he was at cards with the prince; but as soon as ever the game was over, he read it, and behaved (as I afterwards learned) with the warmest zeal for my interest, and was seconded by the Duke of Montrose, who had seen me in the ante-chamber, and wanted to speak to me. But I made him a sign not to come near me, lest his acquaintance might thwart my designs. They read over the petition several times, but without any success; but it became the topic of their conversation the rest of the evening; and the harshness with which I had been treated soon spread abroad, not much to the honour of the king.' Nothing, however, was done by either assembly on that day. On the ensuing morning the mournful bands of wives, with an increased number of female friends, again stationed themselves in the lobbies to win the votes of the members. This measure produced considerable effect; many were moved by the tears and pleadings of the melancholy supplicants. In the Commons the petitions were presented by Sir Richard Steele, Mr. Shippen, and others, all of whom strenuously exerted themselves to turn the scale on the side of mercy. The speech of Sir Richard Steele in particular was copious and forcible; it must have been powerful in its This abortive supplication seems to have even accelerated the fate of Lord Nithsdale and his fellow-prisoners. It was made on Monday the 13th of February, and on Thursday or Friday following, it was resolved in council, that the sentence passed on the delinquents should be carried into effect. The needful preliminary warrants and orders to the lieutenant of the Tower, and to the sheriffs of London and Middle-effect, for it drew down on him sex, were accordingly issued on Saturday. While these matters were in progress, the Countess of Derwentwater, accompanied by the Duchesses of Cleveland and Bolton, and several other ladies of the highest rank, succeeded in obtaining a private audience with the king, and implored his clemency for her husband. She was suffered to speak, but her prayers were in vain. There was yet one resource left. It was, indeed, a weak one. This was to petition the two Houses of Parliament to intercede for the criminals. On the 21st of February the wives of the doomed lords, with about twenty more women of rank, went to the Parliament House to present petitions, and solicit the members as they entered. the virulent abuse and slander of the ministerial journals. The motion to address the king in favour of the delinquents, was hotly opposed by the ministers and the staunchest of their adherents. Walpole with violence scarcely stopped short of stigmatizing as traitors all who wished the king to exercise in this instance his prerogative of pardoning. Fearing that, if the question of an address were put to the vote, he should be left in a minority, he moved an adjournment for a week. He carried his point, but in so doing closed one avenue to the gates of mercy. The struggle was still more vigorously made in the Upper House. Many of the Lords had been gained over by female eloquence. An animated de bate took place on the question of whether the petitions should be read. The permitting them to be read was vehemently opposed by the ministers and their friends; nevertheless it was carried in the affirmative by a small majority. Foiled in this point, the opponents of the petitions next contended, that the sovereign had no power to pardon or reprieve persons who had been sentenced under an impeachment. But here again they failed, it being decided that the disputed power was possessed by the king. Having thus far succeeded, the advocates of the condemned peers moved that an address should be presented to his majesty, entreating him to grant a respite to the convicted lords. The opposite party, however, moved as an amendment, that his majesty should be requested to reprieve such of the guilty peers as should deserve his mercy. The amendment was carried, as was also another-that the time of the respite should be left to his majesty's discretion. The address was presented on the same evening; and the king replied, that, on this and other occasions, he would do as he thought most consistent with the dignity of his crown and the safety of his people. The meaning of the king's words did not long remain ambiguous. On the evening of the next day, the 23d of February, a council was held to decide upon, or rather to announce, the fate of the prisoners. A respite was granted to the Earl of Carnwath and the Lords Widdington and Nairn, but orders were given to execute the Earls of Derwentwater, Nithsdale, and Viscount Kenmure, on the following morning. From the very first, the Countess of Nithsdale had placed but little reliance upon the royal clemency, and had busied herself in devising the means for the earl's escape. But as soon as she heard the turn which the debate had taken in the House of Peers, she saw clearly that her husband must expect no favour from the Government. There remained, therefore, no other resource than to carry into effect, without delay, the scheme which she had formed to save him. She had less than twenty-four hours in which to accomplish her purpose. If within that short time she could not rescue her husband, his death was inevitable. With what admirable skill and presence of mind she achieved her arduous task, must be told in her own words :— 'As the motion had passed generally, I thought I could draw some advantage in favour of my design. Accordingly, I immediately left the House of Lords, and hastened to the Tower, where, after affecting an air of joy and satisfaction, I told all the guards I passed that I came to bring joyful tidings to the prisoner. I desired them to lay aside their fears, for the |