FLIGHT FROM LONDON TO BERLIN - Chapter XVI
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.
