CHARLES MATHEWS has met with a phaeton adventure, more perilous
and romantic than any he has recounted among his " Mail- coach Adventures," or other reminiscences. It was very near having a tragical termination, however ; and MATHEWS himself had nigh made Salisbury Plain his deathbed and Stonehenge his monument. Fancy the Arch-druid of Fun, the High-priest of Momus, entombed within this circle of Druidical stones, and the shepherds of the plain watching. over his bones Had MATHEWS died, "the gayety of nations" would have suffered another eclipse. Happily, he lives to chronicle his own story. Here it is in print, in a letter to a friend. We shall doubtless have it viva voce when we next meet him "At Home."
" I am well, and have suffered nothing, and therefore would never have related my adventure to you, but that it may be erroneously.reported from other quarters. As my setwant was absent, and the carriage obliged to be in Salisbury on Monday, I was too glad to spend all Sunday with my friends, Charles Young and his son, the Rev. Julian Young, in preference to remaining alone at Salisbury. Julian volunteered to drive me. the distance being ouly twelve miles from his house ; eighteen from Andover —beautiful day ; Charles Young accompanied us six miles across the Plain. In the way, they told me it was only a bridle-road, but they knew every inch of it, and it was as pleasant to travel over as a Macadamised one ; they described the difficulties people met within finding their way off the Plain. Sir John Pauline had last year been lost, and literally remained on horseback all night. About an hour after Charles Young left us we came to very rough ground, and I was shaken once or twice enough to make me cry, Oh I At last a collection of ruts ramie it evident that wheels. springs, and all were in danger. Julian paused, and proclaimed the necessity of getting out to lead the horses over ; requesting me to remain within. Oh had I !—my impulse was not strong enough to make me immediately decide ; but the Providence which watches over all, and has hitherto protected me, was my guide, and in a half -minute, an ago- nizing exclamatiou of wo was followed by my companions struggling with the horses, and before I could scramble with my weak limbs to assist, we saw the affrighted wild animals galloping at speed away with the light vehicle ester Salisbury Plain. It was undulating' ground, and from their ascending a steep bit, they were totally lost to our view in a very shed period or time. I advised Julian to rum as fast as possible, and if he could keep them in view, he might, at all events, see the result. He left me; he followed in the track, mounted the bill, and then 1 lost sight of him. .I remained, I believe, but a few minutes, when I saw him returning waving his hat over his head. I concluded the carriage and horses were found or stopped. No! he had not seen them, hut, all anxiety for me, came to say he knew one land-mark on the MU, that if I could walk or crawl to that, he should know how to find tae, but not where I was; that he had ascertained we were within a mile and a half of the high road, and then but four miles from Salisbury. He assured me if he could not find his carrriage. Le would go or send for a chaise to fetch me, and left his coat in my care that he might run the lighter, and again departed on the hopeless errand of overtaking two horses galloping at the rate of twenty miles an hour. I shall not attempt to describe my feelings when left alone on this wild heath. I call upon yoar imagination to assist me, 'helpless, for- gotten, sad, and lame.' I lay on the bare ground after praying on my knees to be res- cued from my desolation, and returning thanks for my mil:milieus preservation. foe had I remained in the carriage. Julian would have had the additional horror of seeing me borne away by the desperate :mime's, for the pole was broken by the uneven road, and his power of holding them entirely taken away by a blow front the point of it on his breast, a Ilia compelled him to snit his huh!. My reflections on the nature of my losses, and the possibility of repairing them—having the whale of my luggage with me (money* and all packed within), &c.—yon mast fancy. My bag had supported my legs and was loose in the front of the vehicles ; the portmanteau not secure, as it was an entirely open carriage, without a bead. I was encumbered with my heavy coat. I got on my legs, and, without a stick (which was left in the four-wheeler)—then exhausted, sat—then two hundred yards more, and again rested. My gouty toe, after being what I thought well, gave way (not that it is gout), and I crept on my hands and knees to the furze on the hill, where I was directed ; altogether about half a mile, we suppose. There I was seated, with a possibility of remaining all night. The world before me, but no choice. Not a house, hot a human being to be seen ; a wild waste immeasurable, and a shower of snow to cheer my spirits. After reflecting on the cold ground, 1 know not how long, I saw, at about half a mile distance, a man on horseback; I waved my .but, my handkerchief—he saw me not ; I shouted, lie heard me not ; a human voice. however rough and dissonant, would have been music to may ear. Ile seemed to direct his course towards me. Good God I 'Cis Julian—he brings me rescue front this comfort-
* Three hundred pounds in goad.
leashed. -Again I shouted, again I-waved my silken stillatitenerthere wee. no
recognition. I thought it could be no other than Julian.; sorely he must see me if it is he anti
here I am at his own app ad
ohtted spot. 'Tic he- no. He turns from me, antl again I am left, perhaps, to wash, unheeded, perfectly helpless—no friendly voice to cheer Me—no human arm to lift me from the sod. The only chance of help I had seeu disappeared in the dip of the hill in the old Roman road, Whose various fosses met my eye and impeded the view of the road which was nearer than I had dreamed of. In a short time the horseman, to my almost wild delighareappeared ; the movements of the form, the turn of the bead, indicated ,at inquiring look ; the rider was evidently in search of an object—he was, a wretehed one. My hopes revived. 'Tis an iron gray, I know the horae—it is Julien : I waved my hat (I could not get up), 'tis a countersign -he sees me; he waves in response. Mc knees obeved, though my legs had refused their (Alice, and I returned loud thanks to God ; fur it NVOS evident the horses had been stopped. Our meeting was curious. An hysteric. affection appeared to make him laugh at the accident. In brief, for I have not room, I find, for minute description, he told use that after the ponies runelna for a mile and a half, they had encountered the stump of a tree, about four fret Idelt. hich bat! impala: the course, completely overturned the - carriage, and, by a sudden ,Ilock, broke the traces all to. atoms, by which they were die- eneembered and released from their hit tering followers, and all their responsibility; and must have remain, -d inetantiv still. for there Juliati bound theta close by the remains of the phaeton- Tot he iutwortai honour of the gipsies, be it known, there was a camp of them near the :.pot; they had assembled retort the wreck before. Julian appeared ; they hail almialaeee of ti we to have appropriated our scattered luggage; the bags have been pa; pal into their camp.-and we should have concluded that they had been shaken out, ai.d all stanch useless. They had not touched an article.—all was safe, even to three sticks and an umbrella,—nothing shaken out till the overturn. Is it not marvellous ? hlad not this stump and a fuss within their sight have impeded them, it would be useless to conjecture atwitter they would have galloped five or twenty miles, or whether they had been found at Southampton or Andover. I attended (with the assiata nee or at Tipsy, who opportunely appeared, and Juliau on all fours—I treading on his bark) his bare backed pony, and without stirrups, of course, when lie led the animal ; and on toot did lie protect me. forgetting. all his cares and losses in his affect ienate anxiety. Thus. in misery of perspiring agony from hip and toe, did I necomplish three miles ; do it I did, but nature at last was exhausted, and I proclaimed my inability to proceed. We were then two miles from Salisbury, and I sat down by the rand-side. At this moment it stagewoach most ppmn timely presented itself,--we get on the top; n mau from the roof descended to lead the pony, and we ar • rived safe. Julian immediately took a chaise, and et six o'clock returned with every article safe—the dilapidated pliaeton excepted: this had been fiedened with ropes and attached to the chaise. 1 gave my entertainment that night in Salisbury ; and you may suppose what were my balmy renduisceuces of such events whets I laid my brad on my pillow."
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