misfortunes, whose limbs were contracted by the dampness of his prison, and who had undergone the most excruciating tortures, was sent to the tower of Montgomery, there to remain, without assistance or consolation, till the convicts condemned to the galleys were ready to go. He was then chained with them; a situation how dreadful! for a gentleman, whose sensibility of mind was extreme, and who had never suffered the least hardship or difficulty till then; when he was plunged at once into the lowest abyss of misery, chained among felons, and condemned to the most hopeless confinement and the severest labour, without any support, but what he could procure from the pity of those who saw him; for of his own he had now nothing! dreadful as these evils were, he supported them with patient firmness, which nothing but conscious innocence could have produced. Reduced to the extreme of human wretchedness, he felt not for himself; but when he reflected on the situation of his wife, and infant daughter, his fortitude forsook him. A fever had, from his first confinement, preyed on his frame; its progress grew more rapid, and he felt his death inevitable. When the galley slaves being collected to depart, he besought leave to see his wife, and to give his last blessing to his child

Yet,

but

but it was denied him!-He submitted, and prepared to go; but being too weak to stand, he was put into a waggon, whence he was lifted off at night, when they stopped, and laid on straw, in a barn or out-house, and the next morning carried again between two men to the waggon to continue his journey. In this manner, and believing every hour would be his last, the unhappy man arrived at Marseilles.

It was asserted, but for the honour of human nature should not be believed, that the Count de Montgomery pressed his departure, notwithstanding the deplorable condition he was in, and even waited on the road to see him pass, and enjoy the horrid spectacle of his sufferings. The unhappy wife of this injured man had not been treated with more humanity. She had been dragged to prison, separate from that of her husband, and confined in a dungeon. She was with child, and the terror she had undergone occasioned her to miscarry.-Long fainting fits succeeded; and she had no help but that of her little girl, who, young as she was, endeavoured to recall her dying mother by bathing her temples, and by making her smell to bread dipped in wine. But as she believed that every fainting fit would be her last, she implored the F 2 jailor

jailor to allow her a confessor: after much delay he sent one; and by his means the poor woman received succour and sustenance: but while she slowly gathered strength her little girl grew ill. The noisome damps, the want of proper food, and of fresh air, overcame the tender frame of the poor child; and then it was that the distraction and despair of the mother was at its height. In the middle of a rigorous winter, they were in a cavern, where no air could enter, and where the damps only lined the walls; a little charcoal, in an earthen pot, was all the fire they had, and the smoke was so offensive and dangerous, that it increased rather than diminished their sufferings. In this dismal place the mother saw her child sinking under a disease for which she had no remedies. Cold sweats accompanied it, and she had neither clean linen for her, or fire to warm her; and as even her food depended on charity, and they were not allowed to see any body, they had no relief but what the priest from time to time procured them. At length, and as a great favour, they were removed to a place less damp, to which there was a little window; but the window was stopped, and the fumes of the charcoal were as noxious here as in the cavern they had left. Here they remained, however, (Providence

vidence having prolonged their lives) for four or five months.

Monsieur d'Anglade, not being in a condition to be chained to the oar, was sent to the hospital of the convicts, at Marseilles; his disease still preyed on the poor remains of a ruined constitution, but his sufferings were lengthened out beyond what his weaknesses seemed to promise. It was near four months after his arrival at Marseilles, that being totally exhausted, he felt his last moments approach, and desired to receive the sacraments.-Before they were administered to him, he solemnly declared, as he hoped to be received into the presence of the Searcher of Hearts, that he was innocent of the crime laid to his charge; that he forgave his inexorable prosecutor, and his partial judge, and felt no other regret in quitting the world, than that of leaving his wife and his child exposed to the miseries of poverty, and the disgrace of his imputed crime; but he trusted his vindication to God, who had, he said, lent him fortitude to endure the sufferings he had not deserved and then after having received the Eucharist with piety and composure, he expired; a martyr to unjust suspicion, and hasty or malicious judg

ment.

He

He had been dead only a few weeks, when several persons who had known him, received anonymous letters.-The letters signified that the person who wrote them, was on the point of hiding himself in a convent for the rest of his life; but before he did so, his conscience obliged him to inform whom it might concern, that the Sieur d'Anglade was innocent of the robbery committed in the apartments of the Count de Montgomery; that the perpetrators were one Vincent Belestre, the son of a tanner at Mans, and a priest named Gagnard, a native also of Mans, who had been the Count's almoner. The letters added, that a woman of the name of De la Comble could give light into the whole affair.

One of these letters was sent to the Countess de Montgomery, who however had not generosity enough to shew it; but the Sieur Loysillon, and some others, who had received at the same time the same kind of letters, determined to enquire into the affair; while the friends of the Count de Montgomery, who began to apprehend that he would be disagreeably situated if his prosecution of d'Anglade should be found unjust, pretended to discover that these letters were dictated by Madame d'Anglade,

whe