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 chain which would go to the Dunkirk galleys; that all the subsequent ones would go to Marseilles, a journey of more than three hundred leagues, which would be much harder and more painful for us; that we should be obliged to do it all on foot, with the chain round our necks. Moreover, he should have to go himself into the country in the month of March, and would no longer be able to render us any service at Lille. He advised us, therefore, to start with the chain which tomorrow began its journey to Dunkirk. This chain was under his orders as far as that town; he would have us conveyed apart from the other galleyslaves in a cart, as comfortably as possible, the distance being about twelve leagues. us to the twenty-five or thirty galley-slaves who composed the band, and who went on foot, he put us into a cart, and every evening they gave us a good bed. The officer of the archers who guarded the chain made us take our meals at his table at Ypres, Furnes, and other places which we passed through, so that we were taken for people of distinction. But, alas! this comfort was only a smoke, which soon disappeared; for the third day after our departure from Lille, we arrived in Dunkirk, when we were all placed in the galley L'Heureuse, commanded by Captain de la Pailletine, who was the head of the squadron of six galleys which were in the port.-By permission from the Autobiography of a French Galley-Slave.' 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 rigour before the countess re- 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 extremely anxious that the king should receive one,-not, it appears, merely for his own sake, but because he flattered himself that it might excite an interest in favour of his wife. Though the countess felt convinced that the step would be unavailing, she consented to make the trial, for the purpose of satisfying her husband. In the narrative she wrote to her sister of her husband's escape, she gives an account of her interview with the king: : '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 mourning, 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 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 I knew that it ought to have 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 the virulent abuse and slander Saturday. While these matters of the ministerial journals. The were in progress, the Countess motion to address the king in of Derwentwater, accompanied favour of the delinquents, was by the Duchesses of Cleveland hotly opposed by the ministers and Bolton, and several other and the staunchest of their ladies of the highest rank, suc- adherents. Walpole with vioceeded in obtaining a private lence scarcely stopped short of audience with the king, and im- stigmatizing as traitors all who plored his clemency for her hus-wished the king to exercise in band. She was suffered to speak, this instance his prerogative of but her prayers were in vain. 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. 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 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 |