Lowther's letter, wrote one for Dr. Bartlett. Mr. Beauchamp obliged me
with the perusal of what he wrote; whence I have extracted the following
account: for his letter is long and circumstantial; and I did not ask his
leave to take a copy, as he seemed desirous to hasten it to the doctor.
On Wednesday, the 19-30 of April, in the evening, as my brother was
pursuing his journey to Paris, and was within two miles of that capital,
a servant-man rode up, in visible terror, to his post-chaise, in which
were Mr. Lowther and himself, and besought them to hear his dreadful
tale. The gentlemen stopt, and he told them, that his master, who was an
Englishman, and his friend of the same nation, had been but a little
while before attacked, and forced out of the road in their post-chaise,
as he doubted not, to be murdered, by no less than seven armed horsemen;
and he pointed to a hill, at distance, called Mont Matre, behind which
they were, at that moment, perpetrating their bloody purpose. He had
just before, he said, addressed himself to two other gentlemen, and their
retinue, who drove on the faster for it.
The servant's great coat was open; and Sir Charles observing his livery,
asked him, If he were not a servant of Sir Hargrave Pollexfen? and was
answered in the affirmative.
There are, it seems, trees planted on each side the road from St.
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