It is an old saying, Every man for himself, and God for us all. John in his hurry, barricading his doors, and posting his people, forgot his sister Margaret altogether. There was, indeed, a game-keeper lodged in her house, but this poor fellow could scarcely pretend to secure one door, and Lewis had twenty methods of coming into her house, where there was neither lock nor latch, nor a single pistol to resist any body, that should attempt to force his way; and the worst on’t was, that Lewis had sent a sculler, with some of his game-keepers boys, to take advantage of this situation. What could a poor woman do? the maids and the children screamed in every corner of the house, and Jowler sent a gun to Mac Lurchar, as if Peg’s garret was the only place exposed, and left her pantry and her cellar to take care of themselves.

Many people in the house were of opinion, that she should write immediately to her brother John, to represent her case, and put him in mind, that when she trusted her affairs to the management of his clerks, it was in hopes that her concerns would be equally looked after with his own. Jack, who by this time had sown his wild oats, and was grown an orderly conversable fellow as you would desire to see, was clear for writing this letter. “From the little I have seen of this troublesome neighbourhood,” says he, “I am convinced that no family is safe from ill neighbours, and thievish servants, without the master and his children can take care of themselves. As arrows are in the hands of a mighty man, says the Psalmist, so are children of the youth. Happy the man that hath his quiver full of them: they shall not be ashamed, but speak with the enemies in the gate. That is the true defence,” says Jack, “and let us have it. A game-keeper may be out of the way, but the child of the house is always by his father’s side.” In short, as he was no trifler, so he was seldom idle, when there was any thing of consequence to be done, and never minded whether his opinion was asked or no. He spoke loudly on this occasion, and as he kept a regular correspondence with Sir Thomas, never failed to tell him his mind. Peg herself, who, as we have said, was rather gentle and inoffensive in her ordinary deportment, gave some signs of discontent and vexation; you could see a little fierceness return to her eye, and the affection and confidence with which she had always of late regarded her brother, perhaps, at this time helped to augment her displeasure. It is a grievous thing to be neglected by people to whom we make advances of kindness and respect: this, however, did not extort from her any injurious terms to her brother. If there was a cloud, it was readier to break upon his enemies head than on his. The truth is, that instead of having that waspish cross disposition, which she had often discovered in her youth, she now needed some encouragement and spiriting up, to be able to defend her own. This did not hinder many people from thinking her greatly improved; she had, indeed, more bloom in her complexion, or was rather less pale than formerly, and was what you may call a tight comely woman to converse with, rather than one of your delicate beauties. But be her person what it would, it was necessary to defend her house and her children; and people told her, that if she would write to her brother, he would not hesitate a moment about putting it in her power to do so. Peg was not near so ready in taking resolutions as she used to be, when left entirely to shift for herself; and even so small a matter as writing a letter, she put off from day to day; at last, she got up one morning very early, and with the assistance of some of her children and relations, drew up a scroll of the following letter, which was afterwards copied out fair, and sent by a careful person to her brother.

A copy of Margaret’s letter to her brother John.

“My dear Brother,

“It was with great pleasure that I heard lately from people who frequent your house, that you had taken a resolution not to depend any longer upon Nicholas Frog or Rousterdivel for your defence; that you had collected your spirit very opportunely, and have since found yourself fortified, by what is the real strength of every family, the affection and vigour of your own children. My heart warmed to the prospect of finding myself in the same situation, and I could have almost wished for an opportunity to see your children and mine fairly united, against some common oppressor, a case in which I hope they will always be invincible. But whatever my situation may be, I do not repine at your prosperity. Our interests, indeed, are unseparable, and I cannot be persuaded, when matters go well with you, that they can, at the long run, go ill with me or my family. This made me bear patiently with your people’s neglect of me, when they ordered your family into a posture of defence; and indeed, unless it had come of yourself at that time, I was unwilling to have any matter started, which might have embarassed you in what you was about, by furnishing, as I was told it might do, the people who were disposed to cross you, with arguments against your scheme. Those gentlemen, it seems, have a language ready prepared with respect to me, but I enter into no contentions with them. It seems that words have their weight after their meaning has ceased to be believed. It is in this way only, that I can understand, why a suspicion thrown upon me in words should be regarded, whilst your servants in my own sight, carry arms to Mac Lurchar, the only person almost whom you or I have reason to distrust. I do not condemn that proceeding of yours; it is an instance of your openness and good-nature, and I believe has met with a fellow, who has the heart to stand by his friends, and who, if properly directed, will fight for you and me, rather than for any body else.

“But whatever my reasons were, for delaying to put you and Mrs. Bull in mind of me, I cannot, in justice to my own family, delay it any longer. Your prosperity I shall always consider as my own; but there are certain distinctions, which if borne in silence by me, must, even in your own opinion, render me unworthy of the relation I bear to you. You used to call me proud. I wish I may not have erred on the other extreme. When you cease to be proud, I shall not esteem my brother the more. But whatever weaknesses I may have, how could you for a moment think of reducing me to the necessity of asking as a favour, what is the birth-right of all mankind, liberty to defend myself? I was possessed of this liberty, before I entrusted my affairs to the management of your servants; and if you and I both afterwards ceased to use it, that part of our history, perhaps, had better be past in silence. It never occurred to me, that you might perhaps resume it yourself, without offering it to me.

“If a partial distribution of arms in your own family alarmed you, as it must do every man of common reason, what must I think? the only person to whom the means of self-defence are denied, whilst I am surrounded on every hand, by those who carry a badge of superiority, more certain than scepters or empty pageantry. If my neighbours are at variance, whoever is uppermost, it seems, I must be at under, a poor tame drudge, unable to keep my own, or assist my friends.

“I should tire you, if I was to say every thing that occurs to me on this alarming subject, and upon an occasion which would justify greater degrees of impatience, than I have hitherto expressed. When I think, that the very enemy against whom your people have taken such care to secure themselves, is now hovering about my doors, where he is sure neither to find lock nor bar, nor a single musket to oppose his entry, I may well lose my patience, and wish at least to hear the cause of this difference explained.

“I shall direct my own people with you, how to act upon this occasion; and I must beg the favour, that you will assist in procuring me directions how to proceed in warding off the blow, with which I am now threatened; or let me know where I am to find bread for my children, if what I have within my doors is the property of every fool, who may be disposed to take it.

“I am,
with the sincerest esteem
and affection, yours, &c.