This solemnity was concluded on the 22nd of April, 1776; but the prosecutors still had a plan in embryo to confine the person of the Countess of Bristol, for to this rank she was now again reduced, to the kingdom, and to deprive her of her personal property; and a writ of ne exeat regno was actually in the course of preparation: but private notice being conveyed to her of this circumstance, she was advised immediately to quit the country. In order to conceal her flight, she caused her carriage to be driven publicly through the streets, and invited a large party to dine at her house; but, without waiting to apologise to her guests, she drove to Dover in a post-chaise, and there entering a boat with Mr. Harvey, the captain of her yacht, she accompanied him to Calais. Circumstances of which she had been advised, and which had occurred during the period of her absence from Rome, rendered her immediate presence in that city necessary, and proceeding thither, without loss of time, she found that a Spanish friar, whom she had left in charge of her palace and furniture, had found means to convert her property into money, and after having seduced a young English girl, who had also been left in the palace, had absconded. Having now obtained the whole of her plate from the public bank where she had deposited it, she returned to Calais, which she adopted as the best place at which she could fix her residence, in consequence of the expeditious communication which existed between that town and London, by means of which she might be afforded the earliest intelligence of the proceedings of her opponents. Their business was now to set aside, if possible, the will of the Duke of Kingston. There was no probability of the success of the attempt, but there was sufficient doubt upon the subject in the mind of the countess to keep all her apprehensions alive.
The will of his grace of Kingston, however, received every confirmation which the courts of justice could give, and the object of the countess now was to dissipate rather than expend the income of his estates. A house which she had purchased at Calais was not sufficient for her purpose; a mansion at Mont Martre, near Paris, was fixed on, and the purchase of it was negotiated in as short a time as the duchess could desire. There were only a few obstacles to enjoyment which were not considered until the purchase was completed. The house was in so ruinous a condition as to be in momentary danger of falling. The land was more like the field of the slothful than the vineyard of the industrious; and these evils were not perceived by the countess till she was in possession of her wishes. A lawsuit with the owner of the estate was the consequence, and the countess went to St. Petersburgh, and there turned brandy distiller, and returned to Paris before it was concluded. The possession of such a place, however, was not sufficient for the countess, and she proceeded to make a second purchase of a house, built upon a scale of infinite grandeur. The brother of the existing French king was the owner of a domain, suited in every respect for the residence of a person of such nobility, and the countess determined to become its mistress. It was called the territory of St. Assise, and was situated at a pleasant distance from Paris, abounding in game of all descriptions, and rich in all the luxuriant embellishments of nature. The mansion was of a size which rendered it fit for the occupation of a king; it contained three hundred beds. The value of such an estate was too considerable to be expected in one payment: she therefore agreed to discharge the whole of the sum demanded, which was fifty-five thousand pounds, by instalments. The purchase on the part of the countess was a good one. It afforded not only game, but rabbits in plenty; and finding them of superior quality and flavour, her ladyship, during the first week of her possession, had as many killed and sold as brought her three hundred guineas. At St. Petersburgh she had been a distiller of brandy; and now at Paris she turned rabbit-merchant.
Such was her situation, when one day, while she was at dinner, her servants received the intelligence that judgment respecting the house near Paris had been awarded against her. The sudden communication of the news produced an agitation of her whole frame. She flew into a violent passion, and burst an internal blood-vessel: but she appeared to have surmounted even this, until a few days afterwards, when preparing to rise from her bed, a servant who had long been with her endeavoured to dissuade her from her purpose. The countess said, “I am not very well, but I will rise;” and on a remonstrance being attempted, she said, “At your peril disobey me: I will get up and walk about the room; ring for the secretary to assist me.” She was obeyed, dressed, and the secretary entered the chamber. The countess then walked about, complained of thirst, and said, “I could drink a glass of my fine Madeira, and eat a slice of toasted bread. I shall be quite well afterwards; but let it be a large glass of wine.” The attendant reluctantly brought, and the countess drank the wine. She then said, “I am perfectly recovered; I knew the Madeira would do me good. My heart feels oddly. I will have another glass.” The servant here observed that such a quantity of wine in the morning might intoxicate rather than benefit. The countess persisted in her orders, and the second glass of Madeira being produced, she drank that also, and pronounced herself to be charmingly indeed. She then walked a little about the room, and afterwards said, “I will lie down on the couch; I can sleep, and after that I shall be entirely recovered.” She seated herself on the couch, a female having hold of each hand. In this situation she soon appeared to have fallen into a sound sleep, until the women felt her hands colder than ordinary, and she was found to have expired. She died August 26th, 1796.
PETER LE MAITRE.
CONVICTED OF ROBBING THE ASHMOLEAN MUSEUM AT OXFORD.
WHEN Lord Thurlow was chancellor of England some villains broke into his house, in Great Ormond-street, and stole the great seal of England, which was never recovered, nor were the thieves known. We have heard also of a valuable diamond being stolen from the late Duke of Cumberland, when pressing into the theatre in the Haymarket to see the bubble of the bottle conjurer. It is also a fact that the Duke of Beaufort was robbed of his diamond order of St. George as he went to Court on a royal birthday; but we have yet to tell that a museum was robbed of its curious medals.
Peter Le Maitre, the thief, was a French teacher at Oxford, and being supposed to be a man of industry and good morals, he was indulged with free admission to the Ashmolean Museum. Thither he frequently went, and appeared very studious over the rare books, and other valuable articles there deposited. He was frequently left alone to his researches. At one of such times he stole two medals, and at another he secreted himself until the doors were locked for the night. When all had retired he came from his lurking-place, and broke open the cabinet where the medals were locked up, and possessed himself of its contents; he then wrenched a bar from the window, and, unsuspected, made his escape.
The college was thrown into the utmost consternation on finding their Museum thus plundered. Some were suspected, but least of all Le Maitre, until it was discovered that he had privately left the city in a post-chaise and four, and that he had pledged two of the stolen medals to pay the post-boys. This left little doubt that he was the ungrateful thief. He was advertised and described, and by this means apprehended in Ireland.
He was conveyed back to Oxford, in order to take his trial; and it appeared that two of the stolen medals were found in a bureau in his lodgings, of which he had the use; and two more were traced to the persons to whom he had sold them.
He had little to offer in extenuation of his crime, and on the clearest evidence he was found guilty on the 7th March, 1777; and he paid the penalty of his offence by enduring five years’ hard labour at ballast-heaving on the river Thames.