The Vauxhall Affray; OR, THE MACARONIES DEFEATED: BEING A Compilation of all the LETTERS, SQUIBS, &c. on both Sides of that Diſpute.
WITH AN INTRODUCTORY DEDICATION TO THE Hon. THO. LYTTLETON, Eſq
LONDON: Sold by J. WILLIAMS, No. 39, FLEET-STREET, and all the Bookſellers in Town and Country. M,DCC,LXXIII.
EPISTLE DEDICATORY. To the Hon. THO. LYTTLETON, Eſq.
[iii]AS I would not inſult your ſingular countenance with any thing like the appearance of a bluſh, I inform you that the following pages are not ſacrificed to you as a compliment, but entirely due to you as a moſt diſtinguiſhed character. The poſition, I believe, will ſtand uncontro⯑verted, that there is not another man ſo circumſtanced in the three kingdoms, on whom they would not ſit aukward. What⯑ever conſequences we derive from an ef⯑fect, the primary cauſe ſhould neither be neglected, nor forgotten. Immortal deeds, I own, have been atchieved by the execu⯑tive ſinews of military veterans; but an acquiſition of empire or honours, we rather owe to the wiſdom of the Miniſter, than the mechanical proweſs of the Troops.
The actions of your life, previous to the AFFRAY in point, have given you that rank in the Annals of Modern HEROISM, which your generalſhip, had it been for⯑tunate in this inſtance, could ſcarcely ele⯑vate.
Human policy, however circumſpect, is ſubject to diſaſters; and, therefore, we [iv] wonder not, that this your laſt undertaking, although truly meritorious and momentous, has fatally miſcarried. But I am no mer⯑cenary ſycophant, and can therefore accoſt the great man with honeſt panegyric, tho' ſucceſs keep not equal pace with his merits. Be it my buſineſs, therefore, in this offering, to proclaim,—That where⯑ever LYTTLETON the II. d failed, it was neither from ignorance nor inattention, but ſome over-ruling neceſſity.—
I have the vanity to imagine, that theſe ſheets will find their way to all thoſe va⯑rious places on the continent, which, ha⯑ving once known you, will eagerly ſnatch the future anecdotes of a man, rendered a glaring phaenomenon throughout Europe. The ſhades of Hagley I could wiſh ſacred from their approach: For the muſes will fly abaſhed their wonted groves;—the venerable and noble Peer muſt weep blood at that unnatural portrait, where the Pro⯑digal inſultingly refuſes the repeated offers of forgiveneſs, and the virtuous robes of reſtoration—inſolently approaching his aged ſire, with the tattered garb of every ſtudied, and poſſible deformity.—
THE VAUXHALL AFFRAY; OR, MACARONIES DEFEATED.
[]THE following paragraph appearing in the MORNING CHRONICLE of Tueſday, July 27, opened the literary campaign, in which the Maca⯑roni forces have ſo fatally ſuffered.
‘"THAT the public may not be mis-informed by the news collectors of an affray and its conſequences, which happened at Vauxhall laſt Friday night, the following is declared to be the truth of the whole.—Mrs. Hartley, the celebrated actreſs, being in com⯑pany with others, among whom was the Rev. Mr. Bate and Mr. Colman, was put out of countenance, by what ſhe deemed the impudent looks of four or five gentlemen, who purpoſely placed themſelves di⯑rectly oppoſite to her, which obliged her to appeal to Mr. Bate on the occaſion, who, obſerving as ſhe did, aroſe and ſeated himſelf between her and theſe rude-looking gentlemen, who taking offence at this, [6] got up one by one, and reconnoitred him with all poſſible contempt, telling him, the ſaid Bate, that he looked like a ſtout, tight-made fellow, and capa⯑ble, no doubt, of bruiſing; to which Mr. Bate re⯑plied, They were four impertinent puppies, and could not be gentlemen for their behaviour to Mrs. Hartley, &c. This brought on a general diſpute, which was divided into three acts, till at laſt a gentleman, one Captain Crofts, addreſſed himſelf to Mr. Bate, and aſked him, Whether he meant any thing againſt him? who was anſwered, No: however, Capt. Crofts, perhaps imprudently, made himſelf a principal with the reſt, and after much ill language had paſſed, brought upon himſelf an expreſſion of anger from Mr. Bate, that he would wring him by the noſe: addreſſes were then given; very ſcurrilous language was received by Mr. Bate afterwards in the Gardens, a challenge was ſent to him the next morning, and an appointment made in the afternoon at the Turk's Head Coffee-houſe, Strand, where Mr. Bate with a friend, Mr. Dawes, waited with punctuality for near an hour, when Captain Crofts, in company with the honourable Mr. Lyttleton, came in: a ſhort recapitulation began between Mr. Bate and Capt. Crofts, who were interrupted by Mr. Lyttleton, as ſecond to the latter, by deſiring that a criſis ſhould be made without words; that Mr. Bate ſhould aſk the Captain's pardon in the papers, or name his weapon, and go with him in half an hour. Mr. Bate, in a very manly way, refuſed begging par⯑don, where no offence was given; but after expatiat⯑ing on the impropriety of his deciding the difference as a clergyman in a military manner, waved a re⯑membrance of his profeſſion in defence of his honour, and agreed to adjourn with Captain Crofts, to ſuch [7] place as ſhould be appointed by the ſeconds, Mr. Dawes for Mr. Bate, and Mr. Lyttleton for the Captain; who, after exerting every thing in their power to prevent any ill conſequences, reduced the cauſes of quarrel and defence to writing, the better to un⯑derſtand what ground they were to ſtand upon, as friends to the combatants, Mr. Bate being the whole time as impatient for deciſion as any man living, who had conceived himſelf injured; but juſt as Mr. Lyttleton and Mr. Dawes were going out to chuſe their piſtols, the Hon. Mr. Fitz-Gerall broke in with apparent anger, and demanded ſatisfaction of Mr. Bate, for his friend Capt. Miles; but Mr. Lyttleton and Mr. Bate remonſtrated with him on the great in⯑conſiſtency of giving that ſatisfaction, when Mr. Bate and Capt. Crofts were then going out; yet he inſiſted on his friend's having ſatisfaction firſt; to which Capt Crofts, replied, in a way that did him honour, that he was highly offended at the mode of Mr. Fitz-Gerall's calling on Mr. Bate, after they had agreed to go out on one and the ſame quarrel, and ſaid that he never underſtood that one man was bound to fight a whole company, where the ſup⯑poſed offence was given in groſs, and not in par⯑ticular. Mr. Fitz-Gerall however continued his an⯑ger, ſaying that his friend could not wait, and he was determined Mr. Bate ſhould not go out with Capt. Crofts till his affair was ſettled. From this circumſtance, Mr. Lyttleton and Mr. Dawes then thinking, from the particulars they had heard on both ſides, a trifling acknowledgment that each was wrong, would be beſt, recommended it to the parties, who, with ſome difficulty complied, and were made friends. Thus ended matters relative to Capt. Crofts; and with reſpect to Mr. Fitz-Gerall, [8] he declared, that had Capt. Crofts, Mr. Bate, and their ſeconds, Mr. Dawes and Mr. Lyttleton, gone out, he would have prevented a duel, by putting the former under an arreſt. The former matter be⯑ing thus ſettled, Mr. Bate deſired Mr. Fitz-Gerall to introduce his friend, who he alledged was in⯑jured. He anſwered, that it would be better with⯑out, for that he was a hot-headed man, and might come to blows without ceremony. Mr. Bate, however, inſiſted on ſeeing him, obſerving that he could not receive any violence from him, being con⯑ſcious he had never offended him. On being intro⯑duced, he ſaid, unleſs Mr. Bate would box him, he would beat him in every public place he met him. Mr. Bate then ſaid, if he did, he would defend himſelf; for though he was capable of boxing, he never choſe to decide any differences that way, but with thoſe from whom he could have no other ſatis⯑faction; ſtill, as Capt. Miles triumphed in this refuſal, Mr. Bate, with very great reluctance, con⯑ſented to meet him on his own terms, and accord⯑ingly a long room was fixed on, and Mr. Dawes and Mr. Fitz-Gerall were to ſecond the bruiſers, who immediately prepared themſelves for battle, in the preſence of Mr. Lyttleton, Mr. Fitz-Gerall, and ano⯑ther. At firſt, the advantage ſeemed againſt Mr. Bate, but a fair ſet-to for about twenty minutes, convinced the company (but particularly Capt. Miles) that Mr. Bate, though inferior in ſize, was victorious, who never received one blow that he felt. Capt. Miles was ſent home in a coach, with his face a perfect jelly, and Mr. Bate was invited to dine with the Hon. Mr. Lyttleton on the morrow, as a proof of the applauſe he highly merited. A greater inſtance of true courage never [9] appeared in man, than in Mr. Bate, who ac⯑cording to the proverb, etiam quos contra ſtatuit equos placatoſque demiſit, enforced the applauſe of his ad⯑verſaries."’
In conſequence of the foregoing imperfect ac⯑count, the following appeared in the MORNING POST of Friday, July 30.
LETTER I.
I SHOULD hold it an inſult to the world, if this public appeal on a late diſpute, was grounded ſimply on injuries I had received individually. So⯑ciety at large is however ſo far connected with it, as to render it a matter of ſome importance; a miſ⯑repreſentation of facts cannot therefore be permitted, without a manifeſt partiality to that indecorum my ſituation compelled me to correct.
There will not be wanting thoſe, even amongſt my own fraternity, rigid enough to cenſure my con⯑duct in a profeſſional point of view, however com⯑mendable it may appear to them in any other. For theſe I have no other anſwer, than—I was neither born a Philoſopher—nor bred a Phariſee. The candid however, from ſimilar feelings with my own, will acknowledge, that during the outrage I complain of, the formalities of my profeſſion might ſlumber, without any glaring injuſtice to decency, or religion.—I mean no contempt to the natural laws of gallantry, when waving their ſanction I appeal to the more ſerious one of humanity, where an helpleſs [10] woman was wantonly, and repeatedly inſulted, by a ſet of poltroons the moſt wretched, and contemp⯑tible.—
The CASE.
BEING at Vauxhall Gardens on Friday evening laſt, I ſaw Mrs. Hartley (in company with Mr. Hartley, Mr. Colman, and Mr. Tateham) ſeated on a bench, not very far diſtant from the orcheſtra. Hav⯑ing the pleaſure of her acquaintance, I joined the party and their converſation; when we preſently ob⯑ſerved two gentlemen paſs by, and look at her in a manner not altogether genteel; however, as cuſtom has in ſome meaſure ridiculouſly indulged our fine gentlemen in theſe familiarities en paſſant, little or no notice was taken of it. Not ſatisfied with this in⯑dulgence, theſe gentlemen preſently returned, with two or three others of a military appearance, who all ſeated themſelves at a table directly oppoſite to her, and began an attack in form, reſolutely determined to ſtare her out of countenance. Situated in the middle of her company, ſhe bore this treatment for ſome minutes, before ſhe even complained to Mr. Hartley of her diſtreſs. Imagining that their triumph was near complete, he begged her to continue her ſeat, till the concluſion of the Cantata then ſinging, after which we would all retire. Theſe gallant heroes however ſtill continuing the ſiege, ſhe found her⯑ſelf under the diſagreeable neceſſity of addreſſing her friends generally, telling us, ‘"That the behaviour of theſe Gentlemen was ſo uncommonly rude, ſhe could bear it no longer."’ On this I turned my head, and diſcovered four of theſe pretty beings ſtaring at her [11] with that kind of petit maitre audacity, which no language, but the modern French, can poſſibly de⯑ſcribe! and triumphing over thoſe female diſtreſſes which their proweſs had nobly occaſioned.
To be a ſilent ſpectator of ſuch inſolence, would be tacitly to countenance it; loudly therefore, in order that they might hear it, I obſerved to her, ‘"that I begged ſhe would not be diſtreſſed, as I would prevent any future inſult of that nature."’—In conſequence of which, I immediately placed my⯑ſelf on a ſeat directly between them and Mrs. Hartley. This was an intimation, that their behaviour was generally remarked; and I expected to find it at leaſt productive of the end intended; inſtead of which, I became now the ſubject of their loud horſe⯑laughs and wiſe remarks. Thus unpleaſantly cir⯑cumſtanced, I thought it better to face theſe deſpera⯑does, and therefore turned about and looked them, in my turn, full in the face; in conſequence of which, ſome diſtortions of features, I believe, paſſed on both ſides.
Mrs. Hartley, during this latter tranſaction, roſe up, and made for the walk; obſerving which, I followed her, with the reſt of the company, firſt juſtly remarking as I quitted the ſcene, ‘"that they were four impertinent puppies."’ A gentleman in⯑ſtantly followed me, whom I afterwards found to be Capt. Crofts, of Burgoyne's light dragoons, and aſked me, ‘"Whether I addreſſed myſelf in that ſpeech to him?"’—To which I replied, ‘"Certainly not; as I did not recollect to have ſeen him in the party."’—Not ſatisfied with this anſwer, he again demanded, ‘"Whether I called him a puppy?"’—To which I rejoin⯑ed as before, adding however, ‘"That the only way to [12] be perfectly convinced in this particular, was to tell me whether he was one of the four, or more, who formed the party, and then the application would come home; for that I ſaid, and ſtill perſiſted,—the Gentlemen, who ſo meanly, and ſcandalouſly diſtreſſed the Lady with whom I was in company, were four dirty, impertinent puppies."’
After this anſwer, Capt. Crofts obſerved, that I look'd very big upon the occaſion,—ſurveyed me, with a ſupercilious kind of air from head to foot, and then remarked, ‘"You are indeed a good tight fellow, and there⯑fore mean to intimidate me I ſuppoſe, becauſe you are a boxer."’ To this he received for reply, ‘"that box⯑ing was by no means my plan; however, as he ſeemed determined not to be ſatisfied, but continued to follow me, if he ſpoke three more impertinent words to me, I would wring his noſe off his face."’—On this he demanded my name and addreſs, which was inſtantly given him; I then drew off to my company, imagining that the affair would at leaſt ſtand peaceably over till the morrow.
Previous to our leaving the Gardens, which we intended to do immediately, we were under the ne⯑ceſſity of walking round, in ſearch of one of our com⯑pany; when at the further end of the walk, we diſ⯑covered our former aſſailants, now made doubly for⯑midable by a conſiderable augmentation.—No ſooner did we approach, than they began a freſh attack with redoubled inſolence, interlarding their loud ſallies of pleaſantry, with ‘"Twig the Curate, &c."’ Sub⯑mitting to this as long as human nature could do, at laſt I ſtopp'd ſhort, with a view of knocking down the firſt man that inſulted me; when Capt. Crofts touched me on the ſhoulder, called me by name, and [13] begged to ſpeak another word with me, which I com⯑plied with, by going back with him; he obſerved, ‘"That he had forgotten my addreſs, which was the cauſe of this ſecond application on that ſubject."’ I immediately told him again, ‘"No. 17, Clifford's-Inn; but deſired that he would now make ſure of it, by getting pen and ink from one of the waiters, and take it down;"’ which he did accordingly.
During this tranſaction, a little effeminate being, whom I afterwards found to be a Mr. Fitz-Gerall, came up to me, dreſſed a la Macaroni, and impertinently aſked me, ‘"Whether any man had not a right to look at a fine woman?"’ After getting over my firſt ſurprize at this wanton interference of a man, who was not even preſent at the diſpute, I anſwered, ‘"Moſt certainly; and that I deſpiſed the man who did not look at a fine woman; however, I begged leave to obſerve, that there were two diſtinct ways of looking at her—with admiration, and with un⯑authorized contempt:—that the conduct I cenſured, was ſtrongly of the latter kind; and on that I founded my opinion, that the offenders were four dirty impertinent puppies."’ On this, he conſequen⯑tially remarked, ‘"That even he himſelf had been ſerv⯑ed thus, when he look'd at a fine woman."’ To which I anſwered, ‘"That I had not the leaſt doubt, but that he merited any obſervation which might be made to him on that head."’ On this, he greatly anſwered, ‘"That he would knock the raſcal down who dared to ſay ſo;"’ and nobly put his hand to his ſword.
This intereſting conference was, for the moment, interrupted by Capt. Crofts, who obſerved, that he ſuppoſed I was a Clergyman. Receiving an anſwer in the affirmative, he ſaid, ‘"Perhaps then, you will [14] take the advantage of your profeſſion, and not give me the ſatisfaction I ſhall demand."’ To which I replied, That he never ſhould find I availed myſelf of that, to act in any manner derogatory from the cha⯑racter of the Gentleman.—Mr. Fitz-Gerall now be⯑came abundantly pleaſant on this diſcovery of my profeſſion, which I parried as well as I was able; and, in return, began to hold up this creature of all creatures to public deriſion. The dreſs, hat and feather,—miniature picture, pendant at his ſnow⯑white boſom, and a variety of other delicate appen⯑dages to this man of faſhion, were naturally ſeized upon by me, and ſet off to the beſt advantage.—Here, however, as the laugh grew warm againſt him, I was attacked by a bran-ſpan new face, another red⯑hot Hibernian, who was ſcarcely intelligible. His ignorance of our language, I believe, preſerved me from that inſolence, which his ſavage countenance ſtrongly menaced. Him however I ſoon cut ſhort, by obſerving, ‘"that the affair could by no means concern him, and that therefore, he was an im⯑pertinent fellow for his pains."’
The company who aſſembled round us, on this occaſion, being deſirous of knowing the cauſe of the diſpute, I told it them in a few words, and then appealed, whether I had not done as much as could be expected of me, even if wrong in the firſt inſtance, by giving my name and addreſs?—And whether Mr. Fitz-Gerall, or any indifferent perſon, had a right thus wantonly to interfere in a matter, in which he was by no means concerned?—So far ſenſible of the impropriety of his conduct, he was generally hooted by the whole company, and joſtled into the middle of the Gardens, where I left him to lament his folly; and immediately took coach, and returned with Mrs. Hartley, &c. to town.
[15] For a confirmation of theſe ſeveral particulars, I beg leave to refer to the Gentlemen above mentioned. The very extraordinary conſequences of this tranſ⯑action you will receive, in order to lay before your readers to-morrow.
The ſucceeding Day, Saturday July 31, the fol⯑lowing appeared in the ſame paper.
LETTER II.
ABOUT two o'clock in the morning, my ſer⯑vant came to my bed-ſide, and awaked me, in order to deliver the following laconic epiſtle, which he ſaid, he had that inſtant received from a man who had the appearance of a waiter, and was then in my chambers expecting an anſwer.
COPY.
WHEREAS you inſulted me laſt night in a manner not to be ſuffered by a man, much leſs by a gentleman; I am determined to have ſatisfaction; and, as boxing is the exerciſe you ſeem to pride yourſelf upon, and the only one that I apprehend you will partake of with me, [16] this is to give you notice, that if you will ap⯑point your time and place, I will meet you upon your own terms; and if you do refuſe to give me the ſatisfaction I require, I will hunt you up and down London till I find you, and will then pull your noſe—ſpit in your face, and pull your black coat off your back.
To the Rev. Mr. Bate, M.A.
Though in expectation of ſome interview on the preceding night's fracas, and perhaps a recapitulation of circumſtances, yet I muſt confeſs, the ſtyle of this letter,—the bearer,—the time,—and mode of its delivery, ſtaggered me not a little. However, I ordered my ſervant to tell the man who waited with⯑out,—‘"That having ſome little buſineſs to ſettle in the morning, I muſt defer ſeeing the Gentleman till two o'clock in the afternoon, at which time I would expect him."’—Contemplation naturally aroſe with me in the morning, when the impropriety of this intended meeting ſtruck me, having no friend, on my part, to be privy to any tranſaction that might ſucceed. I reſolved, therefore, to adjourn the ecclairciſſement of this matter to a place leſs exceptionable than my own chambers, and in the mean time, prevail upon ſome friend to be preſent at the interview. Accordingly I wrote the following, which I delivered to my ſer⯑vant, with ſtrict injunctions not to leave the cham⯑bers on any pretence whatever; that if any Gentle⯑man of the name of Crofts, or any Gentleman who ſaid he came from Mr. Crofts, ſhould call, to deliver it to either of them.
I WAS in hopes, that a moment's reflection would have convinced you of the general im⯑propriety of that conduct laſt night, I was un⯑der the neceſſity of remarking. However, from a letter the moſt extraordinary, which I received in bed, at near two o'clock this morning (by the hands I ſuppoſe of a waiter) without any date or addreſs, I am ſorry to find, that you mean a juſtification of the meaſures of your aſſociates, and further, inſiſt upon ſatisfaction from me for my juſt cenſure of them.—The unſeaſonable hour was the cauſe of your receiv⯑ing a verbal anſwer,—that I ſhould be at home preciſely at two o'clock, and expect you. However, upon more ſerious conſideration, I find myſelf under the neceſſity of begging you to meet me at the Turk's Head Coffee-houſe, in the Strand, that I may avail myſelf of a friend's preſence at our interview, leſt our converſation be miſrepre⯑ſented.—I ſhall wait for you till four.—Violent meaſures are in every point of view diſagreeable to me; but, when I wiſh to avoid them, it can⯑not be expected that it ſhould be done at the expence of my honour. I heartily wiſh our meeting may be different from what your threats ſeem to denounce; for you muſt take ſome pains to bring me to extremities. However, ſenſible that the cauſe I eſpouſe was ſtrictly a [18] juſt one, I am determined neither to be ſhaken from it by menaces, nor intimidated by any of your moſt deſperate reſolutions.
Immediately upon this, I repaired in ſearch of, and ſoon found Mr. Tateham, a gentleman who was preſent at the affray in the Gardens, and who readily accompanied me to dinner to the Turk's Head Coffee-houſe, in the Strand. On our arrival here, I gave orders to the waiters, that if any gentlemen inquired for me, to ſhew them to our room. In the courſe of our dinner, Mr. Dawes, a young gentleman of the law, and a friend of mine, hearing of the nature of the diſpute, and of my being there, ſent in his name, and begged to attend me through it; to this I will⯑ingly conſented, as Mr. Tateham was under the ne⯑ceſſity of going out of town that evening, and I knew not at a certainty when the matter might be finally decided.
Not long after this, Capt. Crofts, attended by his friend, (whom I afterwards found to be the Honour⯑able Mr. Lyttleton) arrived, who were immediately ſhewn in. After ſome cuſtomary civilities on each ſide, Capt. Crofts addreſſed me, by obſerving, ‘"That he ſuppoſed I knew the nature of his viſit."’—To which I anſwered, ‘"I certainly did, if that letter which I had then in my hand was written by him, and contained his ſentiments."’—He rejoined in the affirmative to both; [19] on which I remarked, that it was not poſſible then we could go out upon the terms he might require, until he had put ſome of his threats in execution.
Mr. Lyttleton on this warmly interfered; and ob⯑ſerved, ‘"that this was not the time to recapitulate parti⯑culars; the matter being ſimply reduced to one point, which, as Capt. Crofts's friend, he was deputed to aſk me, viz. Whether I choſe to aſk Capt. Crofts's par⯑don in all the public papers, for ſaying I would wring his noſe off his face, or go out with him in half an hour?"’—To this peremptory demand, I directly replied:—‘"That being ſenſible of no impropriety in this inſtance, I ſhould not make any conceſſion at all; nor did I think myſelf juſtified, after the treatment I had received in Capt. Crofts's letter, to go out with him, till he had executed one of his threats; after which I would certain⯑ly attend him."’—
Mr. Lyttleton on this begged leave to reduce the ſubſtance of the queſtion and anſwer to writing; which was done by him and me, in words nearly as above.—After this he aſked me, ‘"Whether I was not now wrong in urging Capt. Crofts to ſtrike me; as from his ſituation in a military capacity, nothing but the life of one of us could atone for it?"’—To this I an⯑ſwered, ‘"That having been in the army myſelf, I was not to be informed of the etiquette thereof in this particular; and was therefore apprized of the grounds on which I ſtood."’
On this Mr. Lyttleton obſerved, ‘"that he muſt beg then I would go over to France, leſt the conſequence might prove fatal to his friend."’—This new expedition however, I begged leave to wave, by informing him, ‘"That ſenſible of the propriety of my conduct, I would by no means leave England, be the event what it would."’—Here Capt. Crofts interpoſed, [20] and ſaid, ‘"The matter might be ſettled without ſuch an excurſion; for as a miſrepreſentation of my character had been the cauſe of his ſending me the above letter, and being now convinced that the reverſe of the report was the fact, he apologized for the error, and acquainted me, that he now looked upon me as a gentleman in every reſpect."’
Immediately upon this, I took him by the hand, confeſſed his behaviour to be manly, and told him, ‘"That as we could now go out as gentlemen, I was ready to attend him, according to his requeſt:"’—Then turning to Mr. Dawes, begged he would provide a caſe of piſtols, and any other neceſſaries that might be wanting. The Ring in Hyde Park being propoſed as the ground, I objected to it, for fear of interruption; and therefore recommended to Mr. Lyttleton and Mr. Dawes, our ſeconds, to pro⯑vide a more private place; at the ſame time intimat⯑ing a deſire, that we might have a gentleman of the faculty near us, in caſe either of us ſhould unfor⯑tunately ſtand in need of his aſſiſtance.—Here Mr. Lyttleton obſerved, that the afternoon was rather an unuſual time for theſe matters, and therefore urged it might ſtand over till Sunday morning four o'clock.
To this I anſwered, ‘"That the affair was diſ⯑agreeable enough at preſent in every point of view to me, and therefore I would not on any account, ſuffer it to hang another night upon my mind."’ This, with Mr. Dawes's citing the caſe of Lords Townſhend and Bellamont, to prove that it was not ſo very unuſual as was repreſented, produced an unani⯑mous agreement, that we ſhould therefore inſtantly take a poſt coach and four, with a ſurgeon, drive down to Richmond-Park, and there finally deter⯑mine the whole difference.
[21] At the inſtant we were about to quit the room, Mr. Fitz-Gerall abruptly broke in upon us, with his hat on, and, in the moſt inſolent tone of voice, demanded ſatisfaction of me, ‘"in the name of his friend Capt. Miles, who was without in the Coffee⯑room, waiting with the utmoſt impatience."’ Hay⯑ing recovered from the ſurprize, I anſwered, ‘"That he came rather mal a propos, as I was going out that moment to ſettle a point of honour with Capt. Crofts, which I hoped would rectify the whole matter."’—To this he replied, ‘"That his friend inſiſted upon ſatisfaction firſt; and therefore I ſhould not go out with any other man until he had received it; and that even after this, there were three or four others who inſiſted upon the ſame."’—I now appealed to Mr. Lyttleton and Capt. Crofts, to know in what manner I ſhould act; telling them, I could fight but one at a time, and therefore would be directed by them; my ſecond frequently interrupting with ſimilar obſervations:—I begged leave that Mr. Fitz-Gerall would introduce his friend Capt. Miles, that I might ſee this man, whom I was aſſured I could not have offended.
He replied, ‘"he could not do that, as Capt. Miles was ſo enraged againſt me, that probably he might beat me."’ I obſerved, That I fancied myſelf in the company of Gentlemen; and even at the worſt I could defend myſelf, and therefore begged he might be introduced.—He now informed me, ‘"That Capt. Miles only came to fight me my own way; and there⯑fore if I did not box him immediately, he would knock me down wherever he ſaw me in public."’ Mr. Lyttleton, Capt. Crofts, and Mr. Dawes now in⯑terpoſed, by obſerving, That I had behaved in every reſpect like the gentleman; that from my preſent [22] conduct, my character muſt have been totally miſre⯑preſented; and therefore begged this matter might drop, and Capt. Crofts and I go out to ſettle our point:—This however Mr. Fitz-Gerall flatly refuſed; but while I was in converſation with him, Mr. Lyttleton, Capt. Crofts, and Mr. Dawes conſulted together, and agreed, that with my conſent, the affair between Capt. Crofts and me might be adjuſted, if ſome conceſſions were made on either ſide; to which I immediately aſſented, if it could poſſibly be done conſiſtent with my honour. Capt. Crofts there⯑fore firſt declared, ‘"That Mrs. Hartley having been ungenteelly treated, Mr. Bate acted with great ſpirit and propriety in defending her."’ To which I readily replied, ‘"That point being granted, I begged Mr. Crofts's pardon for any unguarded ex⯑preſſion, which aroſe from a miſunderſtanding on both ſides."’
Thus far being amicably ſettled, we returned to the former ſubject; and on Capt. Crofts's retiring, Captain Miles was introduced. Addreſſing myſelf to him, I acquainted him, ‘"That I had never ſeen his face before, and therefore was ignorant how I could offend him."’ I therefore begg'd leave to aſk him, Whether he was the perſon who took Mr. Fitz-Gerall's part in Vauxhall-Gardens? To which he confuſedly anſwered, ‘"Yes; and he now came to take the part of his friend Mr. Fitz-Gerall."’ I told him, ‘"That he would be diſappointed of the ſatisfaction he intended himſelf, for that I never boxed with a gentleman, nor ever would; but if he had a violent inclination to box, and nothing would ſatisfy him without it, I would ſend for two chairmen, give them a guinea a-piece, and beat, or be beaten, by them."’—Mr. Fitz-Gerall [23] now ſaid, ‘"It did not ſignify talking any more about it, for that if I did not fight him now, Capt. Miles was determined to beat me at Vaux⯑hall, or any where he next ſaw me."’ To which I anſwered, ‘"I ſhould be there every night next week, and would certainly defend myſelf."’
Here the congreſs broke up, Meſſ. Lyttleton, Fitz-Gerall, and Capt. Miles going out. Not willing they ſhould enjoy any thing like the ſhadow of a triumph, I run inſtantly after them into the ſtreet, perhaps indeed, imprudently, and, overtaking them on the pavement, oppoſite Catharine-ſtreet, I told the Captain, ‘"That rather than receive any public inſults, if he would fix an hour on Monday morning, and bring either of the gentlemen then with him, I would meet him, and give him the ſatisfaction he re⯑quired."’ I received no other anſwer than ‘"Damn ye now, Sir."’—Not able to contain myſelf any longer, I beckoned him into the paſſage of the Spread Eagle Tavern, where we went into the front dining-room, attended by our friends, as before. I again addreſſed him, and begged he would not inſiſt upon this porter-like buſineſs, or that he would tell me how I had offended him; intimating to him, at the ſame time, that I ſhrewdly ſuſpected I could beat him. Not being able to pacify him with words, we ſtripped, and previous to the onſet, I addreſſed Mr. Lyttleton, ‘"to teſtify how diſagreeable it was to me; and if there could be a propriety in ſuch an exerciſe, which I much doubted, begged it might be here obſerved on both ſides."’ Theſe proper preliminaries being ſettled, the Captain received in about fifteen minutes the ſatisfaction he required, not being able to diſcern a ſingle ray of light, by which to find his way home.
[24] Three Iriſh Chairmen, I have this inſtant learnt, were hired to attend the meeting (according to their own confeſſion to Mr. Engliſh, Hoſier, in Catharine-Street) ‘"to ſee their little Tommy, (Capt. Miles) had fair play;"’ and if it came to a riot in the ſtreet, that they might lend a friendly hand, to carry the point of an infamous aſſaſſin.
This ungentlemanlike buſineſs being however ſettled, we all returned to the Turk's Head, except the un⯑fortunate Capt. Miles, when my conduct was in general highly commended, and Mr. Lyttleton, on his leaving us, begged I would oblige him with my company to dinner the next day, (Sunday.)
On their departure, Mr. Dawes and I began to collect together ſome circumſtances, which led us to ſuſpect, that this Capt. Miles was an hired bruiſer.—His moſt amazingly confuſed addreſs, the manner in which his friends treated him, and his new awk⯑ward veſtments, all conſpired to convince us he was a made-up gentleman for the buſineſs. Determined, however, to act with caution in the inveſtigation of the matter, the next day when I dined with Mr. Lyttleton, I aſked him in the drawing-room apart, ‘"Whether he knew Capt. Miles?"’ To which he anſwered, with a ſhrug of the ſhoulders, ‘"He did not."’ Not a word more on the ſubject paſſed the whole day, though Capt. Crofts and Mr. Fitz-Gerall were of the party.
On the Monday morning I was informed, that his vanquiſhed friend Capt. Miles was Mr. Fitz-Gerall's own footman. In conſequence of this intelligence, which was a confirmation of my own ſuſpicions, I ſent the following note to Mr. Lyttleton:
COPY.
MR. Bate's compliments to the Honourable Mr. Lyttleton, and requeſts he would favour him with the addreſs of Mr. Fitz-Gerall.—Every thing having been ſettled of the late fracas to Mr. Bate's entire ſatisfaction, except the affair of Mr. Fitz-Gerall's friend, the boxing Capt. Miles, he wiſhes to have that ſingle point (which ap⯑pears at preſent myſterious) cleared up, to com⯑plete the general ecclairciſſement.
To the Hon. Tho. Lyttleton, Gerrard-ſtreet.
To this I could get no anſwer till Tueſday, which was then but a verbal one, with, ‘"his compliments, and that Mr. Fitz-Gerall was to be found always at dinner at the Cocoa-tree."’
I now immediately wrote and ſent the following:
COPY.
MR. Bate's compliments to Mr. Fitz-Gerall, and having a ſmall matter of buſineſs to ſettle with his friend Capt. Miles, requeſts the favour of his addreſs, or the name of the place at which he is moſt likely to be met with.
To — Fitz-Gerrall, Eſq. Cocoa-tree, Pall-Mall.
From ſending repeatedly after him, I received the following conciſe meſſage at twelve o'clock at night, [26] ‘"That there was no anſwer."’—On the Wedneſday I therefore wrote thus to him:
COPY.
MR. Bate's compliments to Mr. Fitz-Gerall, and is ſorry to inform him, that the meſ⯑ſage he has received in anſwer to his note, gives him ſtrong reaſon to apprehend, that there are ſome grounds for the report, that his friend Capt. Miles, was no other than his own foot⯑man. However, not willing to condemn him without the fulleſt conviction, he gives him by this intimation, an opportunity of confirming the truth, or falſity of ſuch report.
To — Fitz-Gerrall, Eſq. Cocoa-tree, Pall-Mall.
To this I have not been able to procure the leaſt anſwer whatever, even to the preſent hour.—
This is a ſtrict, and nearly literal recapitulation of the various occurences which have attended this diſpute, and is now preſented to the public for their concluſions. From the tenor of the whole, I hope it will be at leaſt obſervable, that wherever I erred, it was from judgment only, and not from principle. The reader will diſcover, that I have been particu⯑larly attentive to the darkeſt hero of the piece, whoſe principal ſhades have ever owed their height of colour⯑ing to the diſtreſſes he could force upon an individual, or his daring outrages on ſociety at large. This in⯑timation will therefore be ſufficient to prevent the public interpoſition, ſhould ſuch a wretch be ſeverely cudgelled by the man he has now ſo groſsly inſulted; [27] who means only by ſo friendly an act, to prevent his making a more general atonement at the hands of a common executioner.
In conſequence of an unſeaſonable viſit from Mr. Fitz-Gerall to Mr. Bate, at his chambers on Sunday morning, the following was publiſhed in Monday's MORNING POST.
LETTER III.
THE honour of your viſit to me this morning at one o'clock, was of ſo ſingular a nature, that a pub⯑lic acknowledgement of it cannot be chargeable with any violent impropriety.—It will ſave us both an infinity of trouble. The curious will be informed of the circumſtances on both ſides, without the tedious formalities of ſeparate narrations.—
In the late infamous affray, from whence I de⯑rived the melancholy conſequence of your ac⯑quaintance, it is I believe, generally underſtood, that I acquitted myſelf with a tolerable degree of prudence and fortitude. The voice of candour has therefore upon that event, preſcribed a ſolemn di⯑ſtance [28] between us for ever: you will, perhaps, think it too rigid; ſince it will now ſcarce permit me to look down upon, or lament the ſituation of a wretch, ſince that wretch is the wanton, ſelf-created, out-caſt of ſociety. Yet premeditated Villainy muſt not go unpuniſhed: However dark and ſecret his footſteps, I will induſtriouſly trace the monſter, till public atonement be made, or he hide his ſavage head eter⯑nally in oblivion.
I would fain attribute your dark attempt of laſt night, or rather this morning, to thoſe Bacchana⯑lian ſallies, which have regularly preceded you to the chair of Infamy: But it ſavours too much of deliberate villainy, to be leſs than the machination of ſome daemon of revenge.—I own my ſituation was ſomewhat unpleaſant, when four armed gentlemen, attended by two others, came to my chambers in the dead of night, knocked up my ſervant, and endea⯑voured, under a feigned voice, and other ſpecious pretences, to allure me from my bed: the inſtant I had entered amongſt you in the dark, I doubt not but your triumph had been complete. The ſummons of a known poltroon I never obey, and therefore I eſcaped; for, Mr. Fitz-Gerall I believe was the only one who had even a pretence for ſpeaking with me. I honour the impudence of that man, who, knowing he has too far degraded himſelf below the dignity of a gentleman ever to be ſeen in that light again, now talks of nothing but Bullets and Bagſhot. Before my knowledge of your friend Captain Miles, you could tamely ſubmit to be called an impertinent, meddling puppy in the midſt of Vauxhall Gardens; a phraſe that would have called forth the reſentment of a grocer's apprentice; but when you and the world are informed of the mode of chaſtiſement I have [29] laid out for you, and which is the only one I can now condeſcend to beſtow upon you, we hear of nothing but Slugs in a Saw-pit.
Think not, young gentleman, that the humours of laſt night, however oft repeated, will ſhake me from my reſolve. I have zeal in ſome inſtances, which may ſurmount the reſolution of an aſſaſſin. Should you continue to watch each pale moon to her cham⯑bers of retirement through the circling year, and then ſteal out when darkneſs reigns propitious to your de⯑ſign, ſtill, as long as I can eſcape the ſtiletto, the ruffian ſhall be dragged forth, however reluctant, to public view; where, as his deſigns were dark and hor⯑rid, his puniſhment ſhall be proportionably ignomi⯑nious.
The day after, Tueſday Aug. 3, the following was publiſhed in the GAZETTEER.
LETTER IV.
THE unwarrantable freedom you have taken with my character in your narrative of the Vauxhall tranſ⯑actions, and the little regard you have paid to truth and candour, conſtrain me to lay before the public a [30] true and impartial account of that affair, ſo far as I had any concerns in it directly or indirectly: Nor can I entertain the leaſt doubt, but that upon a fair hearing, my conduct from the beginning to the end will bear the common ſterling ſtamp of the gentleman, the man of honour, and, (if rightly conſidered by Mr. Bate himſelf) the real friend.
To begin then my juſtification; even you your⯑ſelf, Mr. Bate, will do me the juſtice to acknowledge I was not preſent when the pretended rudeneſs you ſo much complain of was offered to Mrs. Hartley. In fact I was in another part of the gardens: But the rumour being inſtantaneouſly ſpread over the whole place, that Capt. Crofts had been inſulted with the groſſeſt abuſe and fouleſt language by a gentleman then unknown; I own, Sir, I made what expedi⯑tion I could to find my friend, in order, if poſſible, to prevent any fatal conſequences. When I found Capt. Crofts, Sir, you was in conference with him, words had run very high between you both, and the cauſe of all this fracas, it ſeems, was, that ‘"Mrs. Hartley had been looked at in a manner (as you ſay) not altogether genteel."’ This being the ground of the quarrel, I thought there was room to qualify the ſuppoſed affront that had unintentionally been given to this lady, and I obſerved, that certainly every man had a right to look at a fine woman. I flattered myſelf, that by giving Mrs. Hartley that epithet, which ſo juſtly is her due, I ſhould receive at leaſt a decent, if not a polite anſwer, more eſpecially as I declared to you, that I only came to mediate the af⯑fair. Sir, I am now appealing to the tribunal of the public, and upon my honour I ſolemnly de⯑clare I had no other intentions when I accoſted you, but to mediate the affair between Capt. Crofts and [31] you. The one I knew to be a gentleman, the other, by his dreſs, appeared to be ſo; and I was in hopes of reconciling you both. But, Sir, what opinion muſt the public have of your veracity in telling your own tale, when, inſtead of thanking, or at leaſt meeting me half way in my endeavours to mediate, you abruptly an⯑ſwered in theſe very words, ‘"Damn you for your mediation; you are an impertinent puppy for your pains."’ This anſwer of yours, Sir, you have not only jeſuitically with-held from the public; but you are pleaſed to tell them another ſtory, and add, ‘"that on this, I greatly anſwered, I would knock the raſcal down who dared to ſay ſo, and nobly put my hand to my ſword."’ Sir, you know in your own conſcience I never men⯑tioned the word raſcal, nor did I tell you that I would knock any man down who dared to ſay ſo. Nature, Sir, has not caſt me in an athletic mould, nor has the ſcience of bruiſing had any ſhare in my gymnaſtic education. It is true, indeed, when you gave me the ungentlemanlike anſwer I have mentioned above, I obſerved to you that you had no ſword, but that you might eaſily borrow one, and that we had better retire than make any noiſe in ſo public a place. I declare, Sir, upon my honour, that at the time I gave you this whiſper in the ear, I was an utter ſtran⯑ger to your profeſſion; nor, from your preceding be⯑haviour, could I poſſibly divine that you were in holy orders; much leſs could I dream of any ſuch thing by the anſwer you gave me, which was, that you did not chuſe to encounter me that way, but that, if I had a mind to try my ſkill at bruiſing, you was entirely at my ſervice. Thus, Sir, ſtood the demelé I had with you, when Capt. Crofts gave me to underſtand that you was a PARSON. Upon this ecclairciſſement you are pleaſed to ſay, that ‘"I became abundantly plea⯑ſant [32] and witty upon your eccleſiaſtical character."’ The real truth is, and I will not diſguiſe it, I replied, That I was aſhamed of your behaviour, and that you ought to have your gown publicly ſtripped from off your ſhoulders; and from that moment I determined, Sir, even though your conduct towards me had been a thouſand times more reprehenſible than it really was, and though you had ſworn a thouſand more oaths than I am ſorry to ſay you did, I determined within my own mind to pay every poſſible reſpect to your cloth, and treat you as a man, who, if not out of his ſenſes, was at leaſt within the ſacred pale and protection of the church. For, Sir, I had a character at ſtake, which I might have endangered, had I applied either my ſword or my cane, knowing you to be a clergy⯑man. But, Sir, notwithſtanding the lenity and pru⯑dence I manifeſted on this occaſion, I cannot help repeating, that I think you deſerve to have your caſ⯑ſock pulled over your ears. I may, however, be erroneous in my judgment, as no perſon is a proper judge in his own cauſe; but if you think my judg⯑ment in the wrong, Sir, I am very willing to ſubmit the cenſure I thus paſs upon your public conduct to the deciſion and final adjudication of your own Dio⯑ceſan, who, I underſtand, is the Biſhop of London, and whom all the world muſt allow to be a competent arbitrator.
[33]The ſucceeding day, this anſwer came out in the MORNING POST.
LETTER V.
WHEN villainy has wrought the human mind to a certain degree of deformity, the phaenomenon, at⯑tracting our admiration, may influence the weakeſt of our paſſions.—Having confeſſed the originality of your character, and even now aſtoniſhed at ſuch a wonder-work of Providence, conſidering the frailty of human nature, I wiſh our dealings hereafter to be as limited as poſſible. I own that you have betrayed me into a weakneſs, by forcing me for a moment to diſ⯑pute the rectitude of the univerſal ſyſtem. But, doubtleſs, the ſame extenſive Wiſdom who gave being to the blood-enveloped houſe-breaker, and aſſaſſinating foot⯑pad, found it neceſſary, in his myſterious operations, to create a being, in whom ſhould center the defor⯑mities of both. The man, impatient of violent in⯑juries, may here be rather innocently led to arraign the Divine Juſtice; but I am thankful, that reflection has weight enough with me to baniſh ſuch melancholy ideas; and rejoice from thence to find, that a ſacred ne plus is aſſigned even to the moſt refined degeneracy. If we could ever be led to doubt the poſition, your letter of this day muſt convince us—that the vicious ignorance of the darkeſt profligate betrays itſelf in language; and that his vices are therefore ſeldom or never contagious, but from a perſonal intercourſe.
[34] Being now in no danger of becoming a convert to the creed of libertiniſm and treachery, from the im⯑potence of thoſe arguments dealt out for their ſupport by niggard Nature, a diſtant correſpondence of this kind I will never refuſe you. If ſuch condeſcenſion can at all amuſe in this your diſgraceful ſtate of exile from ſociety, I have that Chriſtian charity which will not let me with-hold it from you.—Forlorn and wretched as you really are, I will give you a tempo⯑rary relief from the pangs of ſelf-conviction, by en⯑ticing your feeble talents ever and anon into their di⯑minutive kind of exertion.
Dragged forth with horrible reluctance, ten days being elapſed, you make a miſerable entrance in this day's Gazetteer; and after the example of every ſelf⯑convicted culprit, unwilling to plead guilty, you make a contemptible appeal to the public, in the nature of a defence. Generouſly giving you credit for its ma⯑ſterly formation, I apprehend the whole burden of it to be ſtrictly this:—That your interpoſition was that of a mediator;—that I damn'd you for your mediation, and called you an impertinent puppy for your pains;—that you told me I had no ſword on, but that I might borrow one;—and that I replied, I did not chuſe to engage you that way, but that if you had a mind to try your ſkill at bruiſing, I was entirely at your ſervice.—
Unfortunately for you, my gentle Paris! not a ſhadow of truth reſts on either of theſe aſſertions, ex⯑cept that indeed of your being ‘"an impertinent puppy for your pains,"’ which I acknowledged in my letter of yeſterday to have ſaid to you; nor need you there⯑fore have taken ſuch an infinity of pains to enforce, what is already ſo ſtrongly impreſſed on my mind, and on that of the public.
[35] Reſcued from the danger as a naked man, I can⯑not now but laugh at your ſavage notions of a media⯑tor;—but my wonder ceaſes, when I recollect to have read of two gentlemen going out to fight, one of whom was ſhot through the head by a mediatorial friend, in order to prevent the conſequence of a tri⯑umph on either ſide.—I fancy Capt. Crofts cannot but recollect the mode of your firſt addreſs, and there⯑fore I will not enforce the evidence of my friends, till that gentleman, or ſome other, will ſtep forth in public, and bear you witneſs. As far as reſpects the ſword buſineſs, it is entirely either the effect of a phrenſied and diſtempered brain, or the paltry, forged evaſion of an equivocating reptile. To one and the ſame cauſe muſt I aſſign the origin of the bruiſing, ſince I repeatedly and ſtudiouſly told you all, THAT was never my plan. Nay, had it been,—what could tempt me to it, when Mr. Fitz-Gerall was the tiny object of my reſentment! I appeal to your friend Capt. Crofts, whether I did not repeatedly diſown ſuch a mode to him? and if I waved it here, where ſome triumph might have been the conſequence, how could I condeſcend to think of ſuch an operation, when your little preſence of aerial divinity courted my thoughts from manhood, to a ſilent contemplation of the progreſſive beauties of the pigmy ſyſtem?
No, my dear little whimſey-formed being, let no ſuch rude forebodings diſturb thy pretty peace in future! Terrific as my ſtrides appear to ſuch ſilphs and ſilphids, I have long forgotten that ſchool-boy pleaſure of breaking butterflies on the wheel; nor would I now cruſh a noxious reptile, had it not attempted to ſting the foot, that meant not to diſturb it.
I cannot take leave of you, without acknowledging your political merit, in referring the nature of our [36] diſpute to the arbitration of the Biſhop of London. I will not accuſe you with the thought, notwithſtanding its excellence.—Candid as it may appear, I muſt however decline it, tho' no man eſteems this illuſtri⯑ous prelate more than I do. I know his worth, as a man; his excellence, as a chriſtian: yet his decree muſt be in ſome reſpect, oppoſite to the feelings of humanity. You know not perhaps, the motto of the reverend bench, ‘"If a man ſmite thee on the right cheek, turn unto him thy left alſo."’ This, I own is an ex⯑cellent ſyſtem, accompanied with lawn ſleeves: theſe pious appendages have a ſoporific quality, depriving the wearers of any other than a theorical knowledge of it. However, point me not out to their Lordſhips as an heretic in this inſtance; for I have no objection to fall into their notions, upon ſimilar terms.—
The fiery taper of youth will naturally burn leſs and leſs glaring, as Time with frigid hand ſhall call forth his hoary emblems on our head. The mitre then adorns the reverend brow; the holy croſier guards its ſingle prieſt from violence.—In this calm ſtand-ſtill of life, the hour may come, when I ſhall wiſh for ſuch ſacred protections; and without an abundance of miracles, time might vouchſafe to work me to the ſacred purpoſe.—Then, being free from the wanton attacks of libertiniſm, my right-reverend feelings, would be reduced to a narrow and peaceable compaſs;—then could I perhaps, declaim in favour of that non-reſiſtance which my youthful impetuoſity pointed out as no virtue, and even being ſmitten by Mr. Fitz-Gerall on the right cheek, might, from a fortitude truly religious,—turn unto him my left alſo.
[37]Mr. FITZ-GERALL's LETTER to the Rev. Mr. HENRY BATE, concluded in Thurſday's GA⯑ZETTEER, Auguſt 5.
LETTER VI.
THE letter I addreſſed to you, Sir, in Monday's Gazetteer, I flatter myſelf hath fully convinced the impartial Public, my conduct throughout this tranſ⯑action hath been that of the gentleman, and the man of honour: of the gentleman, by my treating you as ſuch, ſo long as I took you to be a LAYMAN. Of the man of honour, by ceaſing to demand ſatisfaction, the very moment I knew you to be in holy orders. It now remains that I convince the ſame impartial Public, that I alſo acted to you as a real friend; I ſay real friend, Sir, becauſe if I ſee a Clergyman of the Church of England ſcandalouſly expoſing himſelf in public, and can poſſibly make him feel his folly ſo as to prevent a return of a ſimilar paroxyſm; I think, Sir, even in your own opinion, I muſt be allowed to be doing that Clergyman an act of real friendſhip. If you grant me this poſition, then my reply is, ‘"Na⯑than, thou art the man."’ For I appeal to the whole company who were that night at Vauxhall, whether they did not deem you, as a man, loſt to all ſenſe of public ſhame, public character, and public decorum?
Deſperate as your diſorder was, I did not deſpair to cure it. The only doubt with me was the modus curandi.
To have conſigned you over to Lord Mansfield's tipſtaff might poſſibly have had a temporary effect, [38] but it would not have gone to the root of the diſorder, and a relapſe in ſuch a calenture as yours, ſeemed to me to be death unavoidable.
On the other hand, had I taken this matter up ſe⯑riouſly, had I attempted to convince you, that the fate of nations is not now-a-days, decided by bodily ſtrength or muſcular adroitneſs, but by the fuſil, bay⯑onet, and cannon; and that conſequently, in a poli⯑tical point of view, the ſcience of bruiſing, ſo far as it relates to gentlemen who are born to command fleets and armies, can be of no ſervice, and therefore contemned by them as a thing of no value; nay, had I even acknowledged that I approved of this bruiſing ſcience, when confined to the lower claſs of people, becauſe I think the national habits of vulgar courage ought never to be checked; I ſay, Sir, had I attempt⯑ed to have reaſoned with you in this manner, I ſhould only have added fuel to fire. The only method then I could make uſe of with any hopes of ſucceſs, was to hold up to you the mirror of ridicule, not doubting but that I ſhould find with the poet Horace,
On this plan, Sir, I will not conceal from you, that my firſt intention was to have borrowed one of Foote's wooden heroes; ſtrip him ſtark naked, put him in a true Broughtonian attitude, and have told you, that he inſiſted upon your fighting him. It was ob⯑jected, that you muſt certainly ſee through the game that was going to be played upon you. I was, indeed, of a different opinion; and I obſerved, that if the Knight of La Manch, who, in every reſpect, that of frantic courage excepted, was an excellent ſcholar, [39] and an accompliſhed gentleman, could ſeriouſly en⯑counter a wind-mill, or a barber's baſon, your diſ⯑order being ſimilar to his, you would eaſily fall into a ſimilar deception, ſpecie recti.—However, Sir, to comply with my friends, I ſuffered my opinion to be over-ruled; yet unwilling to leave you uncured, I dreſſed one of my ſervants, introduced you to him, as a perſon you greatly affronted, and a pitched battle enſued between you both, to the great diverſion of the few bye-ſtanders, who were privy to the ſecret, which hath been pompouſly recorded by your own pen in the Morning Poſt. But there is one little circumſtance, which out of charity I now tell you, and that is, I gave my ſervant ſtrict orders not to beat you unmercifully, and when we thought he had given you a ſufficient doſe, we not only interpoſed and parted you, but we highly commended your bravery, and made you believe that you had ſealed up both the peepers of the redoubtable Capt. Miles.
The good intention I had in playing the riſible farce upon you, was, that when you ſhould come to the denouement of the plot, you might ſee quaſi in ſpeculo into what an infinite number of abſurdities, embar⯑raſſments, and vulgariſms your unclaſſical propenſity for bruiſing muſt, as a Clergyman, unavoidably betray you; for, a man, not abſolutely bereft of reaſon, to ſee his error, is to be half cured of it; and I had flattered myſelf, indeed, that I had happily made this half-way progreſs, and was determined to be an au⯑toptical witneſs of the real fact. With this intent I went laſt Saturday to your chambers in Clifford's-Inn; Mr. Montague, Mr. Lyttleton, and Mr. Storer were ſo obliging as to accompany me. It was nearly eleven o'clock at night, when I pleaſed myſelf with thinking that cool reaſon would have reſumed her empire, and [40] that I ſhould have found you preparing yourſelf for the next morning's function of your holy office, and that conſequently all rancour, animoſity, and ill-will was buried for ever in oblivion. But, Sir, how greatly were my hopes creſt-fallen, when after gently knocking at your door, I found it barricadoed againſt me, though I repeatedly told you my name, and the real purport of my viſit. In return for this my care and attention, all the ſatisfaction I could obtain was, to hear myſelf called, ‘"an aſſaſſin,"’ with reiterated aſſurances from your own lips, that the firſt time you ſhould meet me, either in the Mall, Vauxhall, Ra⯑nelagh, or the Pantheon, you would break every bone in my ſkin. Sir, it is an eaſy matter to talk of breaking bones; but if you are not incurably gone, I now caution you not to attempt putting your menaces into execution. For if I muſt be ſerious with you, Mr. Bate, you ought to know that the gentleman who can reſpect the protection of your cloth to a cer⯑tain degree, will beyond that degree protect himſelf. And I muſt further obſerve to you, that if in the de⯑fence of my perſon, any fatal conſequence ſhould happen either to you or myſelf, the blame will now lie at the door of your Dioceſan, and not at that of
[41]Mr. BATE's Anſwer in the MORNING POST of Friday, Auguſt 6.
LETTER VII.
THE thread of inconſiſtent villainy being this day re-united, I have now before me the whole contemp⯑tible defence of the moſt daring, yet ridiculous, diſ⯑turber of the public peace.—It has been obſerved, that my former letters ſoared too far above the nar⯑row limits of your puny underſtanding. I admit in part the propriety of the remark, and therefore, in this reply, I ſhall ſtudiouſly confine myſelf to that ſimplicity of language which is found the abler advo⯑cate in the cauſe of virtue.
Pardon me, if here I breathe a digreſſive ſigh for ſome noble and worthy perſonages, who, till the fatal concluſion of your letter, had comforted themſelves with a flattering idea, that their kinſman was rather vicious from accident, than from principle, or fatal neceſſity. The tears of penitence, young man, are a grateful and efficacious offering even to deſpairing friends, winning them, as it were, by enchantment, almoſt to our own terms of remiſſion;—but, from your example, we are taught not to wonder, that a wanton and ſtubborn perſeverance alarms the dig⯑nity of their fortitude, and bids them renounce for ever the villain they could not reclaim.—
I have hitherto, Mr. Fitz-Gerall, in this correſpond⯑ence with you, trifled with my own conſequence, [42] rather purſuing the deluſive flights of imagination, than ſtanding forth ſimply your accuſer, as the injured man. However, a juſt and public ſacrifice can never be out of ſeaſon, and therefore I will now pin you down to that public ſtake of infamy, from which the extravagance of your conduct will never let you riſe. Behold me, therefore, literally a rigid accuſer, no longer wiſhing to trifle with the deſpondency of a cri⯑minal, or the patience of the public, his appointed judge.—If ſhame will permit you to look up, you may now ſee how truly formidable is an injured indi⯑vidual rationally collected, and inſpired with a ſtrong but temperate fortitude, the powerful ſtaff ordained to ſupport him.—The public, Sir, are impatient for the deciſion, and therefore no hired evaſions will longer avail you. The following black indictment courts your dejected eyes; and truly diſmal is ſuch a ſcroll, which bears the ſtamp of unſhaken authen⯑ticity.—
- I. I have all along accuſed you, and now more ſolemn⯑ly accuſe you of being a wanton leader of the ſecond attack againſt me in Vauxhall-Gardens;—of being an impertinent meddler in my diſpute with Capt. Crofts, to whom I had previouſly given my name and addreſs; averring that the mode of your mediatorial interpo⯑ſition was audacious, and preſuming.
- II. I accuſe you of publickly ſporting with my pro⯑feſſion; of putting your hand to your ſword againſt [43] me as a naked man, without the leaſt intimation at any time of your deſiring ſatisfaction of me for the extorted ridicule, you received from me in the Gar⯑dens.
- III. I accuſe you of breaking into a * private room the next morning, in the moſt inſolent manner, juſt at that inſtant when Capt. Crofts and I were going out to terminate our difference; and, ruffian-like, pre⯑vented it, by inſiſting that your friend Capt. Miles ſhould have ſatisfaction firſt.
- IV. I accuſe you of introducing your own ſervant to me as a gentleman and an officer; and of perſiſting in my boxing with this ſavage, notwithſtanding the interpoſition of Mr. Lyttleton and Capt. Crofts, who repeatedly told you ‘"that my character had been miſ⯑conceived, and that I had acted in every reſpect like the gentleman, and man of honour."’
- V. I accuſe you likewiſe of hiring three other Iriſh ruffians, and planting them at the door of Mr. Engliſh, the corner of Catharine-ſtreet, in order to aid and aſſiſt in your infamous project, ſhould it be neceſſary to enforce it in the ſtreet.
- [44]VI. I accuſe you of totally miſrepreſenting the conſequences of the boxing buſineſs, ſince your friend was beat ſtone⯑blind in reality, and I did not receive a ſingle blow.
- VII. I accuſe you of miſrepreſenting the time of your in⯑tended aſſaſſination at my chambers on the Sunday morning, it being more than a quarter after one o'clock, as can be teſtified, if neceſſary, by the affi⯑davit of the porter of the Inn.—
This dark catalogue of poſitive charges, I ſolemn⯑ly lay at your door, and defy your every exertion to remove them. The fact on which they are ground⯑ed, I ſhall conceive as admitted even by your own partizans, who were preſent at the tranſactions, ex⯑cept one or more of them ſtep publicly forth, and confute them. I now leave you for the preſent deſpicable in the eyes of this vaſt metropolis, and even condemned, alas! by the generous natives of your own kingdom; whoſe notions of honour, though ſometimes too chimerical, will not permit them even to rank with a countryman, who, harſh as it may ſound, ſtands convicted as An INCENDIARY,—a LYAR,—and a POLTROON.
[45]The following appeared in the GAZETTEER of Monday, Auguſt 9.
LETTER VIII.
BY ſeeing this letter in the paper, do not think I mean to continue a literary correſpondence with you, Sir, who thrive by ſcandal, and live upon defamation; I therefore declare, that as this is the firſt, ſo it ſhall be the laſt time I will publiſh any thing concerning the late affair at Vauxhall. I had indeed imagined that you and I, Sir, had finally ſettled all our differences: but as I find you have revived the ſubject, by your letters in the Morning Poſt, it is incumbent upon me to ſet the miſinformed public right, in ſome particulars which you have groſsly falſified.
You publicly call upon me to certify the truth of your having declined boxing, during the whole courſe of your proceedings. Now, Sir, I as publicly declare, that ſo far from declining, you long inſiſted upon it, refuſing me the ſatisfaction I required, and calling upon me to put my threats into execution, which, you ſaid, you would reſent with your fiſt, and your fiſt only; and it was in conſequence of Mr. Lyttleton's aſſuring you, that the iſſue of the affair muſt then of neceſſity be fatal, that you condeſcended to ‘"wave your privilege;"’ and, for the firſt time in your life, put yourſelf upon the footing of a gentleman.
Again, Sir, in your letter to Mr. Fitz-Gerall, you aſſert that I ſaid, ‘"Mrs. Hartley having been ungen⯑teelly treated, Mr. Bate acted with great ſpirit and propriety in defending her."’—This, Sir, as I [46] never thought, I never ſaid: the concluding words that paſſed between us were as follows; I confeſſed that you would have acted properly in protecting a lady who had in your company been publicly affronted, but that I did not think Mrs. Hartley came under that predicament; and as to myſelf, I neither intended nor offered her an inſult. In anſwer to which, you re⯑plied, ‘"I am ſorry my paſſion forced improper words from me, and I aſk your pardon."’ Theſe, Sir, were your words; and as they were much attended to, they muſt have been heard and remembered by every gen⯑tleman preſent. I little thought the affair would have terminated thus amicably, as I was far from imagining that there would have been any ſtop put to my determined reſolution of chaſtiſing your in⯑ſolence.
Now, Sir, I take my leave of you, advertiſing you that I have heard of your terrific threats, and denun⯑ciations of revenge. Theſe I look upon as the ravings of a lunatic, and the frantic workings of a diſtempered brain. If, however, you have coolly concerted ſchemes of meditated vengeance, I ſhall not, Sir, appeal to the mediation of your dioceſan, or the interpoſition of Juſtice Fielding. I, Sir, am a ſoldier, and look equally with an eye of contempt at the miſchief of a monkey, and the malice of a monk.
[47]Mr. BATE'S Anſwer, on Tueſday, Auguſt 10, in the MORNING POST.
LETTER IX.
AS a man truly ſenſible of your ſituation, I cannot but pity your misfortunes.—You muſt at laſt I think diſcover, the fatality of your league with an abandoned and deſpicable aſſociate, who will not let you now en⯑joy that retreat from an extravagant imprudence, which your penitentials, and my ſympathy, had hap⯑pily wrought for you. Convicted himſelf,—after the moſt candid and diſpaſſionate hearing, he ſeems diveſted of that ſavage kind of clemency which has dignified the robber and aſſaſſin; who bear individually the ven⯑geance of ſociety, rather than involve the partner of their guilt in the horrors of their puniſhment. This was the etiquette of heroic villainy; but now loſt in the daſtard refinements introduced by our modern fine gentlemen: for Mr. Fitz-Gerall has hauled you forth, ere the conſcious bluſh of guilt had loſt its empire o'er your cheek, inſiſting that you ſhall make a ſimilar atonement with him, and that on the ſame public, and diſgraceful ſcaffold.
With what a becoming diffidence do you face the world, Mr. Croftes, in this day's Gazetteer!—Your anticipations are ſo melancholy and well founded, that I could, as far as reſpects myſelf, let them die away contemptibly with the jargon and nonſenſe of the day.—We lament the diſtreſſes of the wretched, culprit mariner, who declares with aching heart, that if he weathers but the perils of his preſent voyage, he ne'er [48] will tempt the watery main again.—Yet Society has its ſacred claims on culprits of every denomination; on that account, though you ſtudiouſly wiſh to pre⯑clude my reply, I cannot let you fall a ſlow and mi⯑ſerable ſacrifice to your own wretched feelings and falſehoods, when one friendly cruſh may annihilate you for ever.
After a lethargy of three tedious ſummer weeks, you are rouſed from your ſomnolency, and now attempt to invalidate a ſimple narration of facts, which your ſilence, and the public candour, have ſolemnly con⯑firmed. However apparently inſignificant its orbit, that little fiery meteor Fitz-Gerall has its influence I perceive on certain pliant bodies; forcing the timid into that diſgraceful ſervice in which he himſelf has been ſo ſhamefully defeated. The ſervile awe with which the whole petit maitre tribe look up to this gilded phantom of proweſs, is a juſtification of your prudence. I jump with you in opinion, that an ex⯑perimentary inſult on a peaceable clergyman, who fights not but from neceſſity, is leſs hazardous, than even a difference in opinion with another, whoſe va⯑lour is founded on * ‘"his having fought eleven duels,"’ and whoſe principal beauty ariſes from having loſt the roof of his ſkull by a piſtol ſhot.—
The world, Sir, are already convinced of your folly, and my circumſpection.—I will not therefore now diſpute with you myſelf on the two facts, the ſubject of your letters, which you have ſo totally miſrepre⯑ſented. The candid will be ſatisfied without it; and even the incredulous ſhall be eaſed of any doubts and [49] ſcruples about it, by the public teſtimony of thoſe Gentlemen, who were preſent at the diſcuſſion.
I cannot however but remind you of this aukward introduction of yourſelf to the public.—You ac⯑knowledge to ſtand forth on my appeal.—Now, Sir, if my memory ſerves me, the appeal was to prove, ‘"that I obſerved to you repeatedly at Vauxhall, that boxing was by no means my plan, and therefore, if I refuſed to you, where ſome honour might ſuc⯑ceed a bruiſing conqueſt, how could I (in Vauxhall obſerve) think of ſuch a mode with the tiny Fitz-Gerall?"’
Your maſterly reply (admitting it true for the mo⯑ment) is, ‘"That I inſiſted upon your putting the threats of your letter in execution, &c. &c. the next day at the Turk's Head Coffee-houſe."’ This is a mode of advancing ſo truly Hibernian, that nothing but Mr. Fitz-Gerall having a mechanical command of you, could poſſibly have occaſioned.
I believe I have worked myſelf up into that phi⯑loſophical contempt for complicated vice and folly, to be able to hear any thing you can advance, how⯑ever falſe and atrocious, without the leaſt emotion. Since your own paſſive diſpoſition, and the well-con⯑certed interpoſition of an Iriſh renegado, and his at⯑tendant ruffians, prevented the proof poſitive of my courage, I will not ſigh for a freſh opportunity of diſplaying it, but rather be thankful, that my honour has been preſerved, without the loſs of blood on either ſide.—You may now indulge yourſelf, young man, with paroxyſms of rage and vengeance; ſince neither my neceſſities, nor vices, are ſo preſſing, as ſeriouſly to demand my forfeit life,—ſince I never mean to be⯑friend that moſt abject of all beings, who has not ſpirit enough to diſengage himſelf from his miſeries, but [50] cowardly courts another's hand to drive him from ex⯑iſtence.
As a proof that I never vowed the leaſt vengeance againſt you whatever, I will even conſent that all your anxieties ſhall ceaſe in future.—You ſhall be a man of gallantry,—but it muſt only be in thoſe politer re⯑gions, where beaux plume themſelves on diſtreſſing the fair ſex!—You ſhall be a man of honour—in that country where they aſk a public, and an ignominious acknowledgment of a ſuppoſed offender, or his blood in half an hour, and yet after that—bluſh not to make the firſt conceſſion.—You ſhall be a man of cool, tho' reſolute courage,—where danger is happily precluded by the known interpoſition of ſome generous friends.—You ſhall be a man of ſtrict veracity,—where, after having been mean in one inſtance, they get over it, by honeſtly denying the fact in another.
Nay! come back from Richmond;—for, however offenſive to Colonel Burgoyne, you ſhall even be a SOLDIER ſtill!—But it muſt be in that arduous ſervice, where FORTS and ARMIES own your friend Fitz-Gerall's hereditary government; where they fight with ſcented quil pop-guns, loaded with bleu mange;—whoſe armour is compoſed of miniature pictures, and chicken gloves;—who eſcape the ſeverities of a noxious climate, by an artificial atmoſphere of ambroſial eſſences.
THE FOLLOWING Occaſional LETTERS and SQUIBS, By different WRITERS On the Subject, appeared in the Courſe of the Debate, As here addreſſed and dated.
[51]YOUR paragraph reſpecting the late fray at Vaux⯑hall Gardens, diverted me more than any thing I have met with for ſome time. Surely it could not be as I have heard it whiſpered: Is it poſſible little Coly could conceal himſelf under the Lady's petticoats all the while? I mean, while the rugged parſon, like a ma⯑ſtiff bayed the preſſing throng? 'Twas very good up⯑on my word: I admire Coly's policy; he could not have got a better bully in the world than a prieſt; their blows are weighty; he knows that he has ex⯑perienced them, and lately too.—Was it not great! plume thy feathers, wench, for who but thee could charm two ſages from the ſolemn chair of ſophiſtry, and make them take the cudgel for the pen?—Well, 'tis an ill wind that blows no one any good;—the parſon is to write a play—Coly is to bring it out—the lady is to play a principal part in it—and the town [52] is to be diverted with it, as no doubt it will—good luck for the town—ſome comfort for our theatrical expectations—ſince there was never a better manager than Coly—a better actreſs than the Lady—or a ſubli⯑mer poet than the parſon—and I—but don't tell any body—I intend to write them a farce—and what do you think I mean to call it, eh?—perhaps you cannot gueſs, and ſo I'll tell you—The Vauxhall Fray, or a Peep through the Pocket-hole—damn'd good, is it not?—don't you think 'twill take?—if it don't, the devil take the town, I ſay—perhaps I may take it in my head to ſend it you in a day or two, and if you don't like it, I'll give you leave to print it without my conſent, and take the copy-right out of my hands, in ſpight of my teeth.
PEEP-O-MALICO is one of the greateſt wits that has ever exhibited in your paper, or indeed in any other; it is pity but his courage was equal to his wit, but where is the man that excels in all things?—He was certainly a party in that entertaining fracas which he has immortalized by his pen, and, from his deſcription of Coly's fear, ſeems entirely to underſtand that ſenſation and its effects.—The public muſt be delighted with his propoſal to write a farce on the oc⯑caſion; I have no doubt it will be an admirable per⯑formance, [53] but a more ſuitable name might be found. Suppoſe it was to be called, ‘"The Sham Captain threſh'd, or the Feather in diſgrace?"’—Peep-o-Ma⯑lico knows what I mean by the Feather—a fitter ſubject for a farce could never have been choſen; for what can be imagined more truly laughable than to ſee FIVE Heroes, all men of the ſword—men whoſe very looks might ſtrike terror—picking a quarrel with one poor Parſon, and after having each of them challenged him, and ſworn, ‘"If all his hairs were lives, their great revenge had ſtomach for them all;"’—what, I ſay, could be a worthier ſubject of dramatic ridicule, than their hiring a footman, and dreſſing him as a gentleman, to ſtand their champion in this noble cauſe?
The piece, if Peep-o-Malico does juſtice to the ſtory, will have an excellence not often met with in ſuch compoſitions; it will convey ſome uſeful leſſons—the Macaroni tribe may learn from it, ‘"That they ſhould be cautious of hunting a prig, leſt they ſhould happen to catch a Tartar,"’ and ‘"that a man of ſpirit, in a juſt cauſe, is ſuperior to a little army of bullies, whether in livery or in lace."’—I am, Mr. Printer, I aſſure you, equally unknown to all the parties of this famous Vauxhall affray, but a much diverted ſpectator laſt Friday evening, and
THE public has been lately much obliged to the literary talents of a Reverend Gentleman, for inveſti⯑gating a difference between himſelf and an other, founded on a political cauſe; they are now enter⯑tained with one ſomething ſimilar, and equally as important to the world, but formed on a voluptuous one; for what, Sir, can we ſtyle a party at Vauxhall, an intimate acquaintance with a Lady in a public character, and a diſplay of knight-errantry in her de⯑fence, but an offering to the ſhrine of Pleaſure? Our young Clergy, convinced of the ill effects of theolo⯑gical diſputes, are contriving ſome means to ſoften the auſterity of religion; ſenſible how diſguſtful ſub⯑jects of that nature are become to this polite age; they have changed the tedious diſquiſitions of the fathers, to the more gentle topicks of gallantry and honour. 'Tis true their intention is humane and cha⯑ritable, worthy the applauſe of the preſent rewarders of merit; but methinks (to pleaſe the generality of mankind) the tranſition is rather too rapid. Though Mr. Bate did not contemplate, like Harvey, the calm delights of a garden, he might have ſhunned the tu⯑multuous reverſe; he might have enjoyed the ſocial converſe of a friend, without making himſelf the partizan of a quarrel; he could have noticed an in⯑ſult to a Lady, without particularizing himſelf in an affair which her huſband thought unintereſting. Per⯑haps he was impelled by a warmer motive, and had a deeper ſenſe of her diſtreſs than the other gentlemen preſent; but ſtill he ſhould have conſidered the badge of his profeſſion, and ſtifled his reſentment to ſome [55] degree of ſtoiciſm. The world is too apt to judge from ſuch appearance, that prieſts are juggling with their conſciences, that their own example ſhews the decency and ceremony of religion, is nothing more than a cheat upon them. Great changes are brought about ſlowly and imperceptibly; men of pleaſure will admire the ſpirit of Mr. Bate, but thoſe who are wont to approach a pulpit, will reflect that the old precepts of obedience and humility, are violated by the very hand and tongue that enforced them; they will appeal to their own underſtandings, and deſpiſe the man who attempts to pay ſo ill a tribute to their memories, and by loſing the good opinion of a few, may fail of their ſalutary deſigns in general.
Theſe, Sir, are my thoughts upon the ſubject, which, if you pleaſe, you may communicate to the Public, that thoſe who are engaged in Mr. Bate's laudable plan, may avoid thoſe indiſcretions he has been guilty of, and by a ‘"cunning working of the ſcene,"’ deſcend gradually to a new mode of re⯑ligion. May they retain the exalted courage of that gentleman, but endeavour to improve on his conduct, is the wiſh of
For the MORNING CHRONICLE.
I AM ſorry to ſee, in your letter of to-day, that you have allowed Mr. Fitz-Gerall any degree of lite⯑rary reputation. I would not have any man pluck a [56] ſingle bay-leaf, that does not belong to him; there⯑fore I inform you, that Mr. Fitz-Gerall writes, as well as fights, by proxy. His literary ſubſtitute is Mr. B—k, Attorney General to the Gazetteer.
I honour your ſpirit as a man, equally with your a⯑bilities as a writer. At the ſame time I cannot help in⯑forming you, that your letters (particularly the laſt) are generally cenſured, as too florid and declamatory. This kind of dreſs is calculated to hide flaws, and varniſh over defects, and therefore ſhould properly belong to your antagoniſt. Yours ſhould be the ſtern voice of rigid Truth, founded upon ſtubborn facts. Your caſe is a good one, and ſhould be enveloped as little as poſſible. Truth is always painted naked, hav⯑ing no defects to hide, and would make but an in⯑different figure in the meretricious ornaments of a modern dreſs.
For the WHITEHALL EVENING POST.
The MACARONIAD; OR, The PRIEST TRIUMPHANT.
For the MORNING POST. The four following on the ſame day.
YOU have been after getting into the wrong box, do you ſee now, with this ſame clargyman; for not ſatisfied with terrifying you with his bodily ſtrength, for a little peaceable nonſenſe and ſweating at Vaux⯑hall, he now is eternally lapping you with his damn'd great Engliſh gooſe-quill.—But I'll give you a word of advice, my honey, be after ſtealing a march as ſoon as you can; and ſince you may be a little puzzled to anſwer ſome of his damn'd logic, which, as a gentle⯑man, you need not be after underſtanding; why, do you ſee me, get Capt. Miles to ſwear himſelf an Iriſh gentleman, and hire over again Paddy Murphy, Teddy Bughlin, and Murd. O'Shochlin, who waited in the ſtreet to get at the parſon's coat, to ſwear it is all a lie about their being hired, and ſo you'll get out of this damn'd naſty ſcrape.
For the MORNING POST.
A CARD.
AN Officer deſires a ſimple anſwer to theſe que⯑ſtions: Whether Mr. Fitz-Gerall's conduct is not too infamous for juſtification even upon his own grounds in his letter of yeſterday?
Whether he would have been tempted to a defence but from the generous intimation of Lord Briſtol and the Harvey family, who peremptorily refuſe to ſee him in future, except the principal of the accuſation be proved erroneous?
Whether all the Gentlemen at the Cocoa-tree and St. James's coffee-houſe have not, on this occaſion, turned their backs upon him?
Whether he has invalidated a tittle of Mr. Bate's evidence? on the contrary, whether he does not ſtill appear what he was termed by that ſpirited gentleman, an impertinent meddling puppy? and the whole of his after conduct ſavour much of the poltroon and aſſaſſin?
To the EDITOR of the MORNING POST.
By inſerting the following you will oblige a conſtant Reader.
IN reading your l [...]tter to Mr. Fitz-Gerall, on Monday the 2d of Auguſt, I there find a phraſe, [62] which I cannot altogether agree with you in; you ſay to Mr. Fitz-Gerall, ‘"That he tamely ſubmitted to be called an impertinent, meddling Puppy, in the middle of Vauxhall-Gardens, (a phraſe that would have called forth the reſentment of a Grocer's Apprentice.")’ Now, Sir, as I have been an admirer of your conduct throughout the whole affray at Vauxhall, you will excuſe me, as being in trade, of taking the preſent liberty, as I imagine you addreſs the public in general.—Therefore, Mr. Bate, do you imagine, that a Grocer's APPRENTICE, or any mechanical perſon, has not the ſame paſſions, the ſame ſpirit, and the ſame reſentment, as you, or any other perſon in a higher ſphere of life? and I muſt acquaint you, Sir, that had you, or any other gen⯑tleman, uſed the former expreſſion to me, I ſhould moſt certainly have uſed a proper and becoming ſpirit on the occaſion. Now, Sir, if, in your next letter to the Morning Poſt, you will allow, that a mecha⯑nical perſon, or Grocer's Apprentice, has the ſame feelings as you, or any of thoſe Gentlemen concern⯑ed in the above affray, you will make me ſtill remain, what I already am, an admirer of your conduct.
For the MORNING POST.
IF truth belies me not, you are ‘"an impertinent meddling puppy."’ Heaven forbid I ſhould merit [63] that reproachful epithet or ſtigma! much leſs take courage to reſent it, though juſtly beſtowed. You will not be eaſy, Mr. Kickſhaw, till you get yourſelf into bad bread; and what will you do then? Your premeditated, malignant, villainous, and daſtardly conduct muſt by no means paſs off with impunity: Mr. Bate would be highly culpable, as a duty he owes to himſelf and to ſociety, in permitting it. His declared reſentment, the offspring of a juſt indigna⯑tion, muſt be put in force, to make you remember how you wantonly abuſe any ſociety in future. It is indiſpenſibly neceſſary, that your Bacchanalian bre⯑thren may take warning by the Parſon's exemplary puniſhment.—Becauſe you have a fortune, you are licenced to do as you pleaſe, and indulge your wanton and vicious diſpoſition in every thing, be it ever ſo wicked and oppoſite to the laws of God and man! If theſe are your ideas, and this your temper, the ſooner you are out of this world the better. I wiſh refor⯑mation to you and your comrades; but, at the ſame time, am ſorry to ſay, that, when the branch of a young tree begins to bend, it is a difficult matter for it to be ſtreightened when it grows old.
For the MORNING POST, Friday Aug. 6.
AS the late altercations between the Rev. Mr. Bate, and ſome gentlemen of the laity, at Vauxhall, [64] have prepoſſeſſed the Public to know who is the moſt cenſurable; I cannot help (as I happened to be a ſpectator) giving an impartial and candid account ſo far as I ſaw and heard, which was as follows, viz.
As Mr. and Mrs. Hartley, the Rev. Mr. Bate, with another gentleman or two were innocently enjoying themſelves over a few Vauxhall ſlices, while their auricular faculties were raviſh'd with the melodious ſtrains from the orcheſtra, ſuddenly a violent ſquall of ſome deſcendants of Adam (whoſe occupations might be in the manufactory of wigs, for what I can tell, as I never ſaw any of them before) overſet their tranquillity, and entirely ſunk for that night their pleaſures to the bottom. The Mariners, however, exerted all their efforts to weather the ſtorm, which I'm afraid they would not have accompliſh'd, had not Mr. Bate plied his oar in ſo judicious a manner as fairly kept them above water, though he rowed into the very noſe of the ſquall. But to be conciſe,—thoſe gentlemen, the inconſiſtencies of whoſe behavi⯑our the Rev. Mr. Bate ſo ſenſibly delineated, in my opinion were highly reprehenſible; if ſome open re⯑marks and long impertinent ſtarings to diſcover the exact ſymmetry of every feature in Mrs. Hartley's face in that ſituation, are to be deem'd ſo. One of the Macaroni Antiloguiſts, not quite ſix feet ten inches high, but uncommonly full of garrulity, with a look that would have intimidated a butterfly, thus ad⯑dreſſed Mr. Bate; ‘"Parſon Bate! Parſon Bate, as you are a ſoul-driver, it would much redound to my diſhonour to box you, and as I believe you wou'd thraſh me were you to try, I will not attempt it; but you may be aſſured I ſhall procure one, who will wallop you to your heart's content, the firſt time he meets you."’ By this requeſt Mr. Bate gave them directions where he was to be [65] found, and as to the reſult, he has candidly laid it open to the public in this paper before; it would therefore be neceſſary to quote it again.
Upon the whole, I hope every impartial perſon will acquieſce with me, that the Rev. Mr. Bate acted the part of a man, by heroically fruſtrating the de⯑ſigns of thoſe that certainly attempted to break a very material part of the Tenth Commandment.
To the EDITOR of the MORNING POST.
MR. BATE having this day publiſhed a narrative of the affray at Vauxhall, the public therefore have a right to make their remarks on it. I ſhall obſerve then, that I don't in the leaſt doubt the veracity of it in any one particular, for theſe reaſons; firſt, it is atteſted with his name, and an appeal to the parties concerned; ſecondly, the ſignature wears the name of a man who has acted nobly, in ſhewing a nice ſenſe of honour, and a man of nice honour ſcorns a lie. Ha⯑ving ſo far premiſed, what muſt we think of the mili⯑tary gentlemen, in drawing up their brazen artillery to attack a woman, and ſtare her out of countenance? The anſwer is plain; that for their rude behaviour to our theatrical Shore, they are undeſerving of the name of Gentlemen, in poorly daring to inſult a woman. Mr. BATE (like a Dumont) protected her, and every man of honour muſt applaud him for the part he acted. He was ready to give them either gentleman or ungentle⯑manlike ſatisfaction, and to ſhew there was a poetical [66] juſtice in the concluſion of this piece; the perſon who was himſelf no gentleman (the boxing Capt. Miles) met with ungentlemanlike ſatisfaction: I am only ſorry that the ſervant received the wages which were ſo properly due to the maſter, and that the maſter was beat by proxy. But there is one point particularly wants clearing up, and the worthy triumvirate are publicly called upon to anſwer theſe queſtions. Was not Capt. Miles a coun⯑terfeit man of war, and no ſoldier (as Brainworm ſays), or, in plain Engliſh, was he not either Mr. Fitz-Ge⯑rall's ſervant, or a perſon employed to fight for him and the party? Did not Capt. Crofts challenge Mr. Bate at the coffee-houſe, to try his courage, with an intent, if he was found wanting therein, to expoſe him as a coward? And, laſtly, was not the introducing of the ſuppoſed Capt. Miles at the ſame time, perempto⯑rily inſiſting, that Mr. Bate ſhould fight him firſt, a ſcheme planned to ſecure a retreat to Capt. Crofts, if Mr. Bate accepted his challenge? Should this be the caſe, it is making courage, as it were, a game at Brag, and the Captain was bragging with Pam in hand, for there was a knave ſecured in his favour, being determined not to ſleep with his forefathers, but to ſleep in a whole ſkin. An anſwer therefore is neceſſary, to remove a ſtigma, which ſilence on this head will conſtrue in the affirmative.
P.S. I am an entire ſtranger to Mr. Bate, but will adviſe him, as a clergyman, againſt duelling in future, though (in my opinion) when he is in⯑ſulted, he has a right to make uſe of thoſe weapons which Nature (that is to ſay, the God of Nature) has armed him with.
To the EDITOR of the MORNING POST.
THE concluſion of Fitz-Gerall's reply having made its appearance in this day's Gazetteer, I will venture to ſay that it is the weakeſt defence I ever ſaw; and had a premium been offered for the moſt fooliſh production of the daily papers, the Gazetteer would have carried off the prize nem. con. To prove this, what can be more weak and ridiculous than his tale about Mr. Foote's poppets, or more infamous than that a man (pardon the miſnomer) who bears a com⯑miſſion under the king, ſhould even bribe his foot⯑man to do that which he was afraid to do himſelf; that is, fight Mr. Bate. This was not only an affront to that gentleman, by putting his footman on a level with him, but to the army in general, in equipping a man with military veſtments, cockade, &c. that was a diſgrace to it, and could be equalled in infamy only by his maſter. But to return to Mr. Foote's poppets:—Though it is well known that Mr. Foote does not love fighting himſelf, I am of opinion he admires that ſpirit ſo much in others, he would not even keep a poppet in his pay, that would turn his back on Mr. Fitz-Gerall; whom, for his puſillanimous behaviour in this affair, I ſhall characteriſe as a kind of mandrake tottering under the mighty load of a cockade, like the poppy percharged with the morning dew. I ſhall only ſay, Mr. Fitz-Gerall in both his letters ſeems very deſirous of having the Biſhop of London for his ſecond, as well knowing that the ſword, piſtol, and hammer of death, form no part of his Lordſhip's camp equipage; and, ſhould Mr. Bate make his ap⯑pearance, that he could ſquat entrenched behind his [68] Grace's Church Bible: But I am afraid he will meet with very little relief from this quarter—for his crime is of ſo atrocious a nature, that it is not entitled to the Benefit of clergy.
For the MORNING POST.
IN the preamble to your defence, you intimate, that the impartial public will find, that your conduct to Mr. Bate in the late fracas, has been not only that of a Gentleman and Man of Honour, but of a Real Friend. Now, Sir, as I cannot trace the leaſt glimpſe of any one of thoſe characters through your whole narrative, I'm apt to conceive ſome errata have been committed to the preſs.
I have therefore taken the liberty to read for a Gentleman—a noiſy coxcomb; for a Man of Honour—an Aſſaſſin; and for a Real Friend, (ob mon Dieu!) a Villain. Indeed, Maſter Bobby, you have diſcovered ſo infamous an heart, that the philoſophic eye cannot but drop a pitying tear for the depravity of human nature. Thanks to the Rev. Clergyman for having put his mark upon you. The unwary may now avoid you as a noxious reptile; and the diſcerning deſpiſe you as an infamous ſcoundrel. There is little doubt, but the baſtinado would be of ſervice to you, and as I've your amendment much at heart, the firſt time you give me a gentleman-like opportunity, I will ſerve you as my grandfather did Capt. Bobadil. [69] I will wait for no ecclarciſſement of the matter: A Blow and a Word is my motto.
To the PRINTER of the MORNING CHRONICLE.
SINCE I have had a douſe of the chops given me by a ſatirical rogue in your paper of laſt Tueſday, pray give me room, while my blood is up, to take a fair knock at him in return; he ſhall have it, d—n me! in the true Batenian ſtyle. Oh, oh! Mr. Q in the Corner, you've taken it into your head to ſhew your tail at laſt; I have often heard of Q in the corner, and was always told it was an ugly thing with a long tail; but you are a plaguy fool for ſhewing your head, and opening your mouth: any body may ſee it is but a block-head, a mere mechanical wooden head; and I dare ſay the firſt knock that I ſhall hit it, 'twill ſound like an empty pumpkin, brainleſs and light;—and ſo you are in the queue, for writing, eh? have at you then, and ſee if I don't ſet you upon your head;—there, take that—there's a croſs buttock for you, Q. I told you I could turn you topſy-turvy in a minute. What a contemptible figure you cut now!—Coly looked not worſe when he peep'd thro' the pocket hole; nor the Parſon when he was popp'd in the pond, and pelted from the purlieus of Prittle⯑well, in Eſſex. You ſay you know him not; that is another proof of your having a wooden head; for who but a block-head would have expoſed his tail in defence of a ſuperficial paragraph-maker; one that has been ſcribbling theſe ſeven years in oblivion, wri⯑ting [70] abuſe for the ſake of popularity, and has often been about to hang himſelf, that he never could extort an anſwer.—Without a bluſh, he has addreſſed the Muſes too; but they with indignation turned their backs; Apollo refuſed to beam one ray upon him, and Pegaſus would have kicked his brains out for da⯑ring to ride, had not Hercules interfered, and ſnatch⯑ed him from deſpair, adviſed him to lay down his pen, take up his fiſt, fix upon the firſt coward he could meet with, and that way fight his way to fame; and that way the parſon has ſucceeded. And ſo, Mr. Q, you would adviſe me to change the title of my farce; but when you know me better, you will find me a man who never takes a fool's advice; I ſhall give it you under the title I have propoſed; The Vauxhall Fray; or, A Peep through the Pocket Hole; I am about the laſt ſcene, and you ſhall have it forthwith; till when, I am your's,
The following was ſeen in the MORNING POST of the ſame day.
And this in the St. JAMES'S CHRONICLE of the ſame Evening.
To the EDITOR of the MORNING POST.
MR. FITZ-GERALL being convicted yeſter⯑day, on his own confeſſion in the public papers, of infamouſly employing his footman to fight Mr. Bate, under the diſguiſe of a gentleman in the army, Mr. Lyttleton (for I will not call him the Honourable, till this point is determined) and Capt. Crofts are publicly called upon to anſwer this queſtion, Were they, or were they not, ſeparately or collectively, privy to the above diſgraceful ſcheme? It lies particularly on Capt. Crofts to make a reply, or it will confirm the opinion of the town, that when he gave a challenge to Mr. Bate, he had taken care to ſecure his own perſon, by providing a ſubſtitute to fight for him.—Their anſwer will enable the public to beſtow on them their proper epithets; and their ſilence deemed a te⯑ſtimony of their guilt.
The ſame Day theſe Paragraphs appeared in the ſame.
The Paragraph beneath is taken from the LONDON PACKET of the ſame evening.
To the EDITOR of the MORNING POST.
By inſerting the following letter you will very much oblige a conſtant reader.
YOUR behaviour concerning the Vauxhall affray has not only made you more contemptible in the eyes of the public than you really were before, but has likewiſe ſhown a meanneſs in you, which I think im⯑poſſible to be paralleled. You, Mr. Fitz-Gerall, I principally addreſs, as having acted inconſiſtent both with the character of a ſoldier and a man of honour. Your behaviour, Sir, was more like that of an aſſaſſin than of a gentleman, to come to a perſon's chambers at the dead of night, armed, and along with a ſet of ruffians, who, no doubt, if you could have drawn [74] Mr. Bate from his bed with feigned pretences, were to have aſſiſted you in your black purpoſe.—Your bring⯑ing your own footman, in the habit of a military gen⯑tleman, and impoſing him as ſuch upon Mr. Bate, under a feigned pretence that he was affronted by Mr. Bate at Vauxhall, will that, Mr. Fitz-Gerall, (as you expreſs in your letter) bear the uniform ſtamp of the gentleman, or the man of honour; and, if rightly conſidered by Mr. Bate himſelf, the real friend?—No, Sir; it will only bear the uniform ſtamp of a villain; and in no other light can I look on the man who, becauſe he was afraid to vindicate the cauſe he had unjuſtly eſpouſed, brought his own footman to undergo the chaſtiſement he himſelf ſo juſtly merited. You, Mr. Crofts and Mr. Lyttleton, muſt have been ac⯑quainted with the whole; it muſt have been a con⯑certed ſcheme; for, after you found Mr. Bate had ſpi⯑rit enough to give you the ſatisfaction you required, you meanly, while Mr. Bate was engaged in a talk with Mr. Fitz Gerall and his friend Captain Miles, (only fit for each other's company retired to a corner of the room, and propoſed making up the affair ami⯑cably: how far different this behaviour was to the letter you ſent at two o'clock in the morning, I leave the public to the reference of the Morning Poſt for.—Neither could I, was I Mr. Bate, have ſat down ta⯑citly, and not have called you both to account, both being privy to it, although the former affair was ami⯑cably cancelled; and how Mr. Lyttleton could have the effrontery to aſk Mr. Bate home to dinner with him, being ſenſible, as he certainly muſt, that he had acted to a man of honour with ſuch impropriety, is to me moſt aſtoniſhing.—If Mr. Fitz-Gerall, or any of the Gentlemen concerned, can vindicate themſelves againſt the above charges, I ſhall be quite happy to find I have been miſtaken in their real characters.
For the PUBLIC LEDGER.
YOU, and your reverend adverſary have appealed to the Public, as if they were intereſted in your diſ⯑putes, or as if a quarrel between two obſcure indivi⯑duals (of little conſequence to ſociety, and not very reſpectable) was an event of importance to the whole human race.
Such vanity I can eaſily pardon, but when it is accompanied with an impudent and avowed inſult, with a violation of that decency and reſpect which are due to the military, I hold it deſerving of the ſe⯑vereſt cenſure; and ſince you have ſubmitted your conduct to the tribunal of the Public, I ſhall examine it with great freedom, but not I aſſure you without candour.
As to the Prieſt, I ſhall leave him to contemplate the diſgraceful conſequences of an impertinent and officious interpoſition. The huſband of the woman (who by the bye appears to have been too ſqueamiſh, conſidering her ſtation in life) only was obligated to take cognizance of your rudeneſs, and in his ab⯑ſence, her two friends who accompanied her to Vaux⯑hall, were the propereſt perſons to chaſtiſe your in⯑ſolence; but Prieſts, in all ages, and of every com⯑munity, have been diſtinguiſhed and deſpiſed for their officiouſneſs, and the conduct of this Reverend Gen⯑tlemen affords me a ſufficient reaſon why I ſhould leave him to his reflections.
Your giving the rank of Captain to your livery ſervant, is the occaſion of this letter; and though [76] you may poſſibly find an excuſe for every other part of your behaviour, I am fully perſuaded, Sir, you will not be able to juſtify the liberty which you have taken with the Gentlemen of the army upon this oc⯑caſion.
The military will not thank you for reducing them to a level with your domeſtic, and after declar⯑ing that your reſpect for the Church prevented your puniſhing your adverſary, it is ſomewhat extra⯑ordinary that the only inſtance you give of your re⯑ſpect for religion, was the greateſt indignity you could poſſibly offer to it! This circumſtance I pro⯑teſt is rather unlucky. It is a certificate of your country, but neither a proof of your courage nor humanity.
How unfortunate it is, that in almoſt every tranſ⯑action you prove yourſelf a native of Hibernia! Let us now, Sir, proceed to particulars.—You became engaged in a riot at Vauxhall, but not principally. The parties who were immediately concerned agreed to meet, and that meeting was at a Coffee-houſe. While they, attended by their ſeconds, were ſettling the diſpute, your ſervant, with an aſſumed name and rank, demanded ſatisfaction for a pretended inſult, and upon this occaſion you acted in your favourite character of a Mediator, by aſſuring the Parſon, that Capt. Miles was ſo paſſionate, that if he was admit⯑ted, he might beat him with uncommon fury. I will paſs over the indignity offered to the army, and leave the Military to correct your inſolence: they are very capable of doing it, and I have no doubt but they will take notice of the favour you have done them. I come now, Sir, to conſider you in the character of a Gentleman: When you officiouſly entered the room at the Coffee-houſe, to inform Mr. Bate that [77] Capt. Miles, whom he had inſulted, was below, did it not occur to you, that you was guilty of a pre⯑meditated falſehood, at all times unworthy of a Gen⯑tleman, and particularly in this inſtance? And was it from that confuſion of ideas ſo common to your countrymen, that you blended the character of an Officer with that of a Bravo?
Shame upon ſuch baſeneſs! By your letter of to⯑day, you ſpeak of Gentlemen that are BORN to command fleets and armies—BORN to command fleets and armies! Good Heavens!
I preſume, Sir, you imagine the ranks of Admiral and General are hereditary, and that the ſon of either muſt ſucceed to the honours of the father, though it is very poſſible this ſon might be an arrant Coward, and a conſummate Blockhead! The fate of a Nation ſo unfortunately circumſtanced would be as precari⯑ous, as if you was at the head of a Fleet or Army.—A misfortune which I truſt to God will never happen to us! I have one more remark to make, viz. the impropriety of a drunken man going at one o'clock in the morning to reaſon with his antagoniſt, attend⯑ed by three more. The late hour, and your different ſituations amount, Sir, to a preſumption, that with this auxiliary aid you meant to accompliſh what your ſervant was on trial found incapable of. To me, your intentions appear to have been hoſtile; and the difficulty, not to ſay impoſſibility of proving yourſelf a Gentleman, and a man of honour, is manifeſt in the confuſion and perplexity which appear through⯑out the whole of a laborious defence, neither plau⯑ſible nor free from grammatical errors. As to Capt. Crofts, was I not aſſured he had been in the army, I ſhould have concluded by his letter to Mr. Bate, that he was the Editor of the Gazette, or that a [78] Statute of Bankruptcy had lately been iſſued againſt him; and if he was in the ſecret, as you aſſert he was, of giving the title of Captain to a Bravo, I ſhall yet doubt the reality of his Military character.
As to Mr. Lyttleton, out of reſpect to his venerable and virtuous father, I ſhall remain ſilent; I will not add to the anxiety of an aged and unhappy father, already depreſſed with grief and ſorrow for the Vices of a diſſipated Son.
For the MORNING POST.
YOU ſurely cannot ſuffer ſuch indignity to be offered with impunity to your wooden bantlings—their creation cauſed you pleaſure—and their firſt ſymptoms of animation were employed in begging for their Papa—their legitimacy never can be queſtioned. Who can doubt of their belonging to the timbertoe family?—And now Mr. Foote, will you permit poor Punch, after the fatigues of his campaign, to be pulled from his dormitory, and expoſed to the fury of the Church Militant? St. Patrick's croſs now ‘"mocks the air with idle ſtate,"’ and not Jeruſalem but the Haymarket is to be the ſcene of holy confu⯑ſion, and pious murder. I reflect that ſimilar con⯑teſts have heretofore ſhook the thrones of Aſiatick Princes,—rely not on the ſtrength of man!—the valour of gigantick might—or the light troops of the immortal Bayes, even though they were led on by the [79] redoubted Capt. Crofts—Reject the Shilelah alliance, unworthy of your Engliſh Oak, and adhere to thoſe truly Machiavalian principles of ſound politicks—no money to be returned after the curtain is drawn up—nor any perſon upon any account to be admitted behind the ſcenes.—Beware, Sir! nothing, how⯑ever extraordinary, is impoſſible to a man of Mr. Lyttleton's abilities if he gains entrance; be not ſur⯑priſed at finding Piety in Pattens with a p—x, and Punch with a bloody noſe;—reflect on the perſonages who have dared to ſport with your family—Mr. L—n, the diſgrace of Engliſh nobility, the foetid ſink of vice, purveys for the debauches of this ſelect ſet—Mr. Fitz-Gerall, that eſſence of nothing!—that expatriated waſp—has already been depicted by Cap⯑tain Doctor Bate—and poor Bubble Crofts, who lugged into the company for the ſake of his 14,000 l. note, and into the quarrel for his Captainſhip, narrowly eſcaped the ſire in procuring a cheſnut for the amiable Mr. Lyttleton.
Such is the reſpectable triumvirate, which, after pro⯑claiming open war with decency, and ſetting all mo⯑rality at defiance, attacks your innocent family, and reſolves on the pollution and contuſion, beyond the ſkill of the moſt able carpenter, of your harmleſs, defenceleſs Mr. BATE.
I have juſt learned, that, in caſe you preſerve neu⯑trality, the junto have, for want of puppets, hired blockheads, and engaged the Captains O'Byrne and O'Fagan, two gentlemen of approved courage and abilities, as ſuccedaneums for Mr. Punch, and Bob [80] the Butler:—And Mr. Fitz-Gerall has beſpoke another pair of ceſtuſed pair of Vauxhall gloves for their arma⯑ment.—
To the EDITOR of the MORNING POST.
I AM one of that impartial Public who ſo heartily concur in applauding Mr. Bate for the great ſpirit and propriety with which he has conducted himſelf towards thoſe inſolent Macaronics, who dared to offend him, in the face of the world, in a manner ſo diametrically oppoſite to every ſentiment of honour and honeſty. It is not my preſent purpoſe to canvaſs this matter; the inveſtigation it has already gone through, ſuffi⯑ciently evinces Mr. Bate to be really the gentleman, and the man of honour; and that his greateſt mis⯑fortune has been, having to do with perſons ſo totally devoid of every quality requiſite to the conſtituting either of thoſe characters.—Nothing remains to be ſaid on this ſubject that can increaſe Mr. Bate's merit, or the infamy and diſgrace of his opponents. I defy either his, or any other pen, to add to that univerſal odium which they have ſo effectually procured to themſelves; and therefore I hope, and doubt not, Mr. Bate will treat the letter addreſſed to him in a paper of this day by Mr. Croftes, with that ſilent con⯑tempt ſo juſtly due to it.
And as to puniſhing theſe myrmidons * with words, it is not poſſible; we muſt of neceſſity conclude them [81] long ſince loſt to every feeling of humanity, or they never could, with that unparalleled effrontery, have made a public avowal of the ſcandalous and unwar⯑rantable impoſture put upon Mr. Bate, at the Turk's-head Coffee-houſe; for which however it ſeems he has an argument in ſtore that will convince the facetious gentleman who makes his boaſt of it, of his error; ‘"for boys and brutes are only taught by blows;"’ and I make no doubt but this doughty gentleman's back will be found, upon the application of a cane, to enjoy a more delicate ſenſation than his heart.
The Paragraphs following came forth in the MORN⯑ING CHRONICLE of Wedneſday, Auguſt 11.
IT is ſtrongly reported, that a friendſhip, which will probably be of duration, has commenced between a certain foppiſh Knight, now inveſted with an office of ſome conſequence to the city of London and county of Middleſex, and the fribbling, parſon-fearing Mr. Fitz-Gerall, founded on a fellow-feeling for each other. The Knight is beyond conception rejoiced that there is in the creation as abject a coward as himſelf; has therefore communicated to Mr. F. his readineſs to ac⯑company the Rev. Mr. Bate to Tyburn in his public character, if the ſaid B. ſhould be convicted of maim⯑ing and defacing, with an intention to kill, before his ſhrievalty expires.
[82] Now we ſee the denouement of the petit piece of Vauxhall, (which had like to have turned out a deep Tragedy, if not to the great actreſs, to the reverend, ſenſible, and ſpirited actor under her, and to ſome of the ſpectators) we ſurely cannot be at a loſs to de⯑termine that the Parſon behaved well, as a bruiſer and defender of the fair, but ill as a parſon and lecturer of others; as parſons, like coblers, ſhould not go beyond their laſt or text;
It is therefore hoped this will be a leſſon to all parſons to ſtick to their texts, and not ramble again to public places, not even with gods or goddeſſes either of the ſtage, pit, or gallery.
To the EDITOR of the MORNING POST.
Your anſwering the following queſtions impartially, will oblige the Public; and, it is hoped, be of no prejudice to the reſpectable part of the army in which you ſerve.
IF any commiſſioned officer whatever, belonging to any of his Majeſty's marching regiments had been privy to, and ſuffered any of his acquaintance to in⯑troduce [83] a livery-ſervant under the title of gentleman and an officer, to act as a bravo.—
Would the gentlemen ſerving in the ſame corps have done duty, or ranked with him after ſuch behaviour?
Would they not have inſiſted on his being tried by a Court-Martial for ungentleman-like behaviour?
Would not all of you (if you knew the man, and had been informed of his having acted as above) have ſhunned and deſpiſed him, and thought it a diſgrace to be ſeen in his company?
For the MORNING POST.
A CARD.
SEVERAL Gentlemen of the Army preſent their compliments to Capt. Crofts, the Soldier, and requeſt to know whether he really is one or not? becauſe they have heard that he was REQUESTED to leave the army, for fear it ſhould hurt his conſtitution. But, if that is as great a lie as his having any intention of fighting Mr. Bate, they now REQUEST he would reſign, as they are determined never to rank in the army with him in future.
To the EDITOR of the MORNING POST.
I HAVE ſent you a SKETCH as under, of a late affair, which, if well executed, would pay the artiſt for his trouble, and meet with a ready ſale. I hope, therefore, the PENCIL will follow the traces of the PEN; that, by their joint aſſiſtance, men may be held up to public ſcorn, who are ſo highly deſerving of public cenſure.
A CARICATURE.
TITLE.
FRIBBLE and FLASH in Alliance; OR, The MILITARY diſgraced, and The CHURCH TRIUMPHANT.
- Mr. Fitz-Gerall in the character of FRIBBLE,
Label—‘"Challenge him, Captain, my man ſhall fight for us both."’
- [85] Capt. Crofts in the character of FLASH,
Label—‘"Sir, your character is miſrepreſented, I did not think you would fight."’
- The Hon. Mr. Lyttleton in the character of The PRODIGAL SON,
Label—‘"Father, I am no more worthy to be called thy ſon."’
- The Rev. Mr. Bate in a BROUGHTONIAN AT⯑TITUDE,
Label—‘"Sound doctrine, knock-you-down Argu⯑ments."’
- Footman dreſſed as an OFFICER,
Label—‘"D—n this ſhort coat of my Maſter's, it is only fit for a monkey."’
- ATTENDANTS.—Three Iriſh chairmen waiting in the Street,
Labels—ALL HIRED.
For the MORNING POST. To the Rev. Mr. BATE.
AS I ſee by the papers, that you mean to carry a ſtick for the correction of Mr. Fitz-Gerall, being na⯑turally very humane, I would entreat you to alter the [86] mode of your correction, and, inſtead of a ſtick, to carry a good birch rod, as I think that by much the fitteſt implement for Mr. Fitz-Gerall, and what I am ſure his friend Mr. Lyttleton will recommend, HE being particularly acquainted with the virtue of it, as can by proved by moſt of the w***** on this town.
To the EDITOR of the MORNING POST.
IN your paper, ſome few days ſince, there appeared a letter under the ſignature of GEORGE-ROBERT FITZ-GERALL, (addreſſed to the Rev. Mr. HENRY BATE.)—We have never heard of any ſuch perſon as GEORGE-ROBERT FITZ-GE⯑RALL;—if you mean GEORGE-ROBERT FITZ-GERALD, who continued but a ſhort time with us after his retreat from his apartments in the bo⯑rough of South-wark, we have heard enough of HIM.
For the MORNING POST.
A CARD.
MR. BATE's compliments to the EDITOR, and begs leave, through the channel of the Morning Poſt, to inform the Public, whoſe patience he is afraid he has already tired in this diſpute, that the moment Meſſ. Tateham and Dawes come to town, (who were preſent at the daſtardly meeting at the Turk's Head Coffee-houſe, in which the Captains CROFTES and FITS-GERALL cut ſo capital a figure), their diſtinct evidence will be given in this Paper, in direct oppo⯑ſition to thoſe ſcandalouſly FALSE, and childiſh eva⯑ſions made uſe of by the contemptible Mr. Croftes, in yeſterday's Gazetteer.
Clifford's-Inn, Thurſday, Aug. 10.
*⁎* The impatience of the Public has been ſuch, that the publication of this pamphlet could not be retarded, in or⯑der to wait for the teſtimony of the gentlemen mentioned in Mr. BATE's card. However, as we ſuppoſe it can only be a confirmation of his own candid narrative, already univerſally admitted, the omiſſion of it here, we hope, will not be judged of any very material conſequence.
- Citation Suggestion for this Object
- TextGrid Repository (2020). TEI. 5067 The Vauxhall affray or the Macaronies defeated being a compilation of all the letters squibs c on both sides of that dispute With an introductory dedication to the Hon Tho Lyttleton Esq. University of Oxford Text Archive. . https://hdl.handle.net/21.T11991/0000-001A-59EF-4