One day when she was walking out arm-in-arm with my father, unluckily
she was met by one of her Woolwich acquaintances. This was the severest
stroke of all, as she had intended to return to Woolwich; but now she
was discovered, and avoided by one party, as well as insulted by the
other. I cannot defend my mother's conduct; nor indeed was she deserving
of pity, as her treatment had been brought about by her own folly and
pride. The effect of all this was, however, that of souring her temper
still more; and the constant vituperation poured out upon my father so
roused his indignation that one evening, when more than usually
intoxicated, the "lady's ladies' maid" received such a severe box on the
ear that the one candle turned to a general illumination. This blow was
never forgotten nor forgiven, although my father was very sorry for it,
and begged her pardon the next day, with promises of amendment.
Just at this time the French Revolution commenced, and there was
expectation of a war with France; the press-gangs were ordered out, and
the seamen, aware of it, remained concealed until they should leave the
town. But my mother had made up her mind. She found out an officer who
commanded one of the press-gangs, gave her address, and, having supplied
my father with spirits until he was stupefied, she let in the gang, and
before morning my father was safe on board of the tender lying off the
Tower. This treachery on her part my father did not discover until some
time afterward; and it was the occasion of a scene between them, as I
shall hereafter show. The next day my mother went on board of the tender
to visit my father, put her cambric handkerchief to her eyes, pressed
his hand between the iron bars, and lamented _his_ hard fate, and _her_
hard fate; but when requested by him to smuggle a little liquor in a
bladder to comfort him with, she tossed up her head, and declared "that
nothing could induce her to do anything so ungenteel." Whereupon my
father turned away, lamenting the day that ever he had married a lady's
ladies' maid.
A day or two afterward my mother brought my father his kit of clothes,
and two pounds of his own money. As a war was expected, my mother would
have persuaded my father to give her his "will and power" to receive his
prize money; but my father, grown comparatively wiser, positively
refused. He turned away on his heel, and they parted.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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