that he should live, abandoned and desperate as his
state seemed to be. Yet (which to me appeared
very astonishing) he had little thoughts of humbling
himself before God, and returning to him after the
wanderings of a life so licentiously begun. But,
expecting to recover, his mind was taken up with contrivances
to secure his gold, of which he had a good deal about
him; and he had recourse to a very odd expedient,
which proved successful. Expecting to be stripped,
he first took out a handful of that clotted gore of
which he was frequently obliged to clear his mouth,
or he would have been choked; and putting it into
his left hand, he took out his money, which I think
was about 19 pistoles, and shutting his hand, and besmearing
the back part of it with blood, he kept in this position
till the blood dried in such a manner that his hand
could not easily fall open, though any sudden surprise
should happen, in which he might lose the presence
of mind which that concealment otherwise would have
required.
In the morning the French, who were masters of that
spot, though their forces were defeated at some distance,
came to plunder the slain; and seeing him to appearance
almost expiring, one of them was just applying a sword
to his breast, to destroy the little remainder of life,
when, in the critical moment, upon which all the extraordinary
events of such a life as his afterwards proved, were
suspended, a Cordelier who attended the plunderers
interposed, (taking him by his dress for a Frenchman)
and said, “Do not kill that poor child.”
Our young soldier heard all that passed, though he
was not able to speak one word; and, opening his eyes,
made a sign for something to drink. They gave
him a sup of some spirituous liquor which happened
to be at hand, by which he said he found a more sensible
refreshment than he could remember from anything he
had tasted either before or since. Then signifying
to the friar to lean down his ear to his mouth, he
employed the first efforts of his feeble breath in
telling him (what, alas! was a contrived falsehood)
that he was a nephew to the governor of Huy, a neutral
town in the neighbourhood; and that if he could take
any method of conveying him thither, he did not doubt
but his uncle would liberally reward him. He had
indeed a friend at Huy, who I think was governor,
and, if I mistake not, had been acquainted with the
captain, his father, from whom he expected a kind reception;
but the relation was only pretended. On hearing
this, they laid him on a sort of hand-barrow, and
sent him by a file of musqueteers towards the place;
but the men lost their way, and, towards the evening,
got into a wood in which they were obliged to continue
all night. The poor patient’s wound being
still undressed, it is not to be wondered at that by
this time it raged violently. The anguish of
it engaged him earnestly to beg that they would either
kill him outright, or leave him there to die without
the torture of any further motion; and indeed they
were obliged to rest for a considerable time, on account
of their own weariness. Thus he spent the second
night in the open air, without any thing more than
a common bandage to staunch the blood. He has
often mentioned it as a most astonishing providence
that he did not bleed to death, which, under God,
he ascribed to the remarkable coldness of these two
nights.
