But the adventures of our ingenious Princess increase in magnitude as they multiply in number. Being arrayed in her sable robes, and having taken lodgings in Holborn, she sent for a barrister of Gray’s Inn, and informed him, that by the death of her father, she was sole heir to his fortune, but that she was married to an extravagant husband, who was resolved to secure her property to himself. Here she poured forth a torrent of tears and the most grievous lamentations, the more to interest the young barrister in her favor. But while the lawyer was squaring his features to the occasion, and talking of the matter in a learned and eloquent strain, a woman ran up stairs, exclaiming, “O, madam, we are all undone! for my master is below; he has been asking for you, and swears that he will come up to your chamber. I am afraid the people of the house will not be able to hinder him, he appears so resolute.”—“O heavens!” exclaimed Madame, “what shall I do?”—“Why?” cried the lawyer. “Why!” quoth she, “I mean how shall I dispose of you? Dear me, what excuse shall I make for your being here? I dare not tell him your quality and business, for that would endanger all; and, on the other side, he is extremely jealous. Therefore, good sir, step into that closet until I can send him away.” Surprised, and at a loss what to do, the lawyer complied. The closet being locked, and the curtains of the bed drawn, she opened the door to her husband, who was loudly demanding admittance.
The moment he entered, he gave his spouse the most opprobrious language. “O, mistress abandoned! I understand you have a man in the room: a pretty companion for a poor innocent woman, truly! one who is always complaining how hardly I use her. Where is the villain? I shall sacrifice him this moment. Is this your modesty, madam? this your virtue? Let me see your gallant immediately, or, by the light! you shall be the first victim yourself.” Saying this, he made to the closet door, and burst it open like a fury. The young lawyer was discovered with shame, though innocent, and trembling in every limb. The husband’s sword was unsheathed, and death was before the barrister’s eyes. But Madame, interposing, seemed determined rather to die herself than to suffer the blood of an innocent man to stain her chamber. A companion of the husband also fortunately came to her assistance, and seizing the arm of the infuriated man, struggled to wrest the sword from his hand.
The discernment of the lawyer soon discovered the deception, and, to exculpate and relieve himself, he candidly related the whole matter, and the reason for which he was introduced into that place. But all was in vain. The injured and enraged husband insisted that this was only a feigned narrative to cover his villany, and nothing but his blood, or an adequate remuneration, would assuage his fury. The cause was at last referred to the arbitration of the kind stranger who had interfered, and aided Madame in protecting the young lawyer. Five hundred pounds were proposed as a proper recompense; but that was far beyond the power of the lawyer to command. It was with no small difficulty agreed that he should give a hundred pounds, rather than be found exposed to the consequences of detection, in a situation where he was unable to vindicate his innocence. He sent a note to a friend for that sum, the confederates being careful to examine it before it was transmitted, lest it should be for a constable, instead of a hundred pounds. Upon the payment of that sum the lawyer was liberated, and went off with the bitter reflection, that, instead of receiving a good fee for writing a deed of settlement, he had paid a hundred pounds for a few minutes’ lodging in a closet; but, consoling himself with the hopes of seeing this amiable widow speedily exalted to merited honor.
The good wishes of the lawyer were in a very few years verified in her history. Not long after this, Madame was apprehended, accused of stealing a silver tankard at Covent Garden, and sent to Newgate. At the next sessions she was tried, and transported to Jamaica; where, however, she only remained two years, when she returned to England, and appeared in the character of a great heiress. The result of this artifice was, that she was speedily married to a rich apothecary, whom she soon robbed of above three hundred pounds, and then left him to resolve the question whether the loss of his money or the loss of his wife was the greatest misfortune. Madame went next to lodge in a house where the landlady, a watchmaker, herself, and her faithful maid, composed the whole family. Having established her character for sobriety and probity, she invited her landlady and the watchmaker to the play, and treated them with tickets. They accepted the invitation, and the maid remained at home, sole guardian of the garrison. But during their absence, she broke open the locks, extracted about two hundred pounds, and made free with about thirty watches; so that her spoil amounted in all to six hundred pounds, which she carried to the appointed place of rendezvous. Meanwhile, Madame, not satisfied with treating the watchmaker and her good landlady with tickets to the play, after it was over took them to a tavern to treat them to a small collation, where she embraced an opportunity to decamp.
It happened that one Mr. Freeman, a brewer, had been robbed of two hundred pounds, and that an officer had been sent to search every suspected place for the thieves. One Lancaster was the person upon whom suspicion chiefly rested, and, while searching a house for him, they discovered Madame walking in a night-gown. The thief-catcher entered her room, and, seeing two letters upon the table, he began to examine their contents. Madame was highly displeased with his impertinent freedom, and, in the course of the dispute which ensued, he had occasion to examine the features of her countenance, and recognising her ladyship, took both her and her letters along with him.
When removed to the Old Bailey, she was interrogated, whether she was the woman who usually went by the name of Mary Carleton. She answered, “Yes.” The court then demanded the reason of her return from banishment before the specified time. She made many trifling excuses, which detained the court for a few days; but finding these excuses would not answer her purpose, she pleaded pregnancy. A committee of matrons was then appointed to examine her, who gave a verdict against her, and she was condemned to suffer in conformity with her previous sentence.
In prison she was visited by many, out of curiosity to see the behavior of such a remarkable character in confinement and under sentence of death; and several clergymen attended her to conduct her devotions, and to direct her in her calamitous situation. She confessed herself to be a Roman Catholic, and sincerely bewailed her criminal conduct, frequently wishing that she could again renew her life, in order to spend it in a more exemplary and virtuous manner.
On the day of her execution, she appeared more cheerful and gay than usual, and, placing the picture of her husband upon her arm, she went to Tyburn with it. She appeared devout, and, when she heard St. Sepulchre’s bell begin to toll, uttered several pious ejaculations. To a friend, who rode in a cart with her to the place of execution, she delivered two Roman Catholic books; and, addressing the multitude, owned that she had been a very vain woman, and hoped that her fate would deter others from the same evil ways; and that, though the world had condemned her, she had much to say for herself. Then, praying God to forgive her as she did her most inveterate enemies, she was in a few minutes launched into eternity. She was executed in the year 1672, in the thirty-eighth year of her age, and in the same month of the year in which she was born.
CAPTAIN DUDLEY.
Captain Dudley was born at Swepston in Leicestershire. His father once possessed a considerable estate, but through extravagance lost the whole except about sixty pounds per annum. In these reduced circumstances he went to London, intending to live in obscurity, corresponding to the state of his finances.