Hunt, Henry, 1773-1835; Social reformers -- Great Britain -- Biography
dishonourable and unworthy act, after hesitating a little, he said, "Pray,
Sir, did you not receive a letter from me?" I hastily answered, "Yes, and
I am here to demand in person an explanation, and to know what charge you
have to make against me, either as a soldier or a gentleman." He now
seemed still more confused, and he looked everywhere except in my face. He
then cast his eyes towards the troop, as much as to say, will you not
protect me? will you not assist to get me out of this dilemma? but all was
as silent as the grave, and every eye was fixed upon him. At length he
mustered courage to say, _"I make no charge against you; neither do I feel
myself called upon to give you any reason for my conduct. I--I, as
commanding officer of this regiment, have a right to receive any man into
it, or to dismiss any man from it, without assigning any reason for my so
doing."_
This was a critical moment of my life. It is in vain now to lament my want
of discretion. I was young--I was devoted to the service of my country--I
was a soldier--I was insulted without the shadow of a pretext to justify
the insult--I was wounded in the most tender part--my patriotic zeal! At
such a moment I could take no counsel of cold, calculating prudence. I
sternly replied, "then, my lord, you are no longer my officer--you have
offered me a deliberate insult, which it seems you are not prepared to
explain or apologise for; I therefore demand that satisfaction which is
due from one gentleman to another; and mark me well, unless you give me
that satisfaction I will post you as a coward:" upon which I took my
pistols from the holsters, and was taking my sword from the belt, in order
to cast them with defiance at his horse's feet, these arms being the only
thing that I possessed belonging to the government. Expecting, perhaps,
that I was going to make use of them in a different way, his lordship
wheeled suddenly round, and clapping spurs to his charger, he was, without
once looking behind him, soon out of sight; he having wheeled into the
gateway of Savernake Lodge, his lordship's residence.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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