The Vauxhall affray: or, the Macaronies defeated : being a compilation of all the letters, squibs, &c. on both sides of that dispute. With an introductory dedication to the Hon. Tho. Lyttleton, Esq;.

Table of contents

- [titlepage]

- EPISTLE DEDICATORY. To the Hon. THO. LYTTLETON, Esq.

- THE VAUXHALL AFFRAY; OR, MACARONIES DEFEATED.

- THE FOLLOWING Occasional LETTERS and SQUIBS, By different WRITERS On the Subject, appeared in the Course of the Debate, As here addressed and dated.

THE END.

The Vauxhall Affray; OR, THE MACARONIES DEFEATED: BEING A Compilation of all the LETTERS, SQUIBS, &c. on both Sides of that Dispute.

WITH AN INTRODUCTORY DEDICATION TO THE Hon. THO. LYTTLETON, Esq

He that fights, and runs away,

May live to fight another day.

HUD.

LONDON: Sold by J. WILLIAMS, No. 39, FLEET-STREET, and all the Booksellers in Town and Country. M,DCC,LXXIII.

EPISTLE DEDICATORY. To the Hon. THO. LYTTLETON, Esq.

SIR,

AS I would not insult your singular countenance with any thing like the appearance of a blush, I inform you that the following pages are not sacrificed to you as a compliment, but entirely due to you as a most distinguished character. The position, I believe, will stand uncontroverted, that there is not another man so circumstanced in the three kingdoms, on whom they would not sit aukward. Whatever consequences we derive from an effect, the primary cause should neither be neglected, nor forgotten. Immortal deeds, I own, have been atchieved by the executive sinews of military veterans; but an acquisition of empire or honours, we rather owe to the wisdom of the Minister, than the mechanical prowess of the Troops.

The actions of your life, previous to the AFFRAY in point, have given you that rank in the Annals of Modern HEROISM, which your generalship, had it been fortunate in this instance, could scarcely elevate.

Human policy, however circumspect, is subject to disasters; and, therefore, we wonder not, that this your last undertaking, although truly meritorious and momentous, has fatally miscarried. But I am no mercenary sycophant, and can therefore accost the great man with honest panegyric, tho' success keep not equal pace with his merits. Be it my business, therefore, in this offering, to proclaim,—That whereever LYTTLETON the II. d failed, it was neither from ignorance nor inattention, but some over-ruling necessity.—

I have the vanity to imagine, that these sheets will find their way to all those various places on the continent, which, having once known you, will eagerly snatch the future anecdotes of a man, rendered a glaring phaenomenon throughout Europe. The shades of Hagley I could wish sacred from their approach: For the muses will fly abashed their wonted groves;—the venerable and noble Peer must weep blood at that unnatural portrait, where the Prodigal insultingly refuses the repeated offers of forgiveness, and the virtuous robes of restoration—insolently approaching his aged sire, with the tattered garb of every studied, and possible deformity.—

I have the honour to be, Sir, Yours, &c. The COMPILER.

THE VAUXHALL AFFRAY; OR, MACARONIES DEFEATED.

THE following paragraph appearing in the MORNING CHRONICLE of Tuesday, July 27, opened the literary campaign, in which the Macaroni forces have so fatally suffered.

"THAT the public may not be mis-informed by the news collectors of an affray and its consequences, which happened at Vauxhall last Friday night, the following is declared to be the truth of the whole.—Mrs. Hartley, the celebrated actress, being in company with others, among whom was the Rev. Mr. Bate and Mr. Colman, was put out of countenance, by what she deemed the impudent looks of four or five gentlemen, who purposely placed themselves directly opposite to her, which obliged her to appeal to Mr. Bate on the occasion, who, observing as she did, arose and seated himself between her and these rude-looking gentlemen, who taking offence at this, got up one by one, and reconnoitred him with all possible contempt, telling him, the said Bate, that he looked like a stout, tight-made fellow, and capable, no doubt, of bruising; to which Mr. Bate replied, They were four impertinent puppies, and could not be gentlemen for their behaviour to Mrs. Hartley, &c. This brought on a general dispute, which was divided into three acts, till at last a gentleman, one Captain Crofts, addressed himself to Mr. Bate, and asked him, Whether he meant any thing against him? who was answered, No: however, Capt. Crofts, perhaps imprudently, made himself a principal with the rest, and after much ill language had passed, brought upon himself an expression of anger from Mr. Bate, that he would wring him by the nose: addresses were then given; very scurrilous language was received by Mr. Bate afterwards in the Gardens, a challenge was sent to him the next morning, and an appointment made in the afternoon at the Turk's Head Coffee-house, Strand, where Mr. Bate with a friend, Mr. Dawes, waited with punctuality for near an hour, when Captain Crofts, in company with the honourable Mr. Lyttleton, came in: a short recapitulation began between Mr. Bate and Capt. Crofts, who were interrupted by Mr. Lyttleton, as second to the latter, by desiring that a crisis should be made without words; that Mr. Bate should ask the Captain's pardon in the papers, or name his weapon, and go with him in half an hour. Mr. Bate, in a very manly way, refused begging pardon, where no offence was given; but after expatiating on the impropriety of his deciding the difference as a clergyman in a military manner, waved a remembrance of his profession in defence of his honour, and agreed to adjourn with Captain Crofts, to such place as should be appointed by the seconds, Mr. Dawes for Mr. Bate, and Mr. Lyttleton for the Captain; who, after exerting every thing in their power to prevent any ill consequences, reduced the causes of quarrel and defence to writing, the better to understand what ground they were to stand upon, as friends to the combatants, Mr. Bate being the whole time as impatient for decision as any man living, who had conceived himself injured; but just as Mr. Lyttleton and Mr. Dawes were going out to chuse their pistols, the Hon. Mr. Fitz-Gerall broke in with apparent anger, and demanded satisfaction of Mr. Bate, for his friend Capt. Miles; but Mr. Lyttleton and Mr. Bate remonstrated with him on the great inconsistency of giving that satisfaction, when Mr. Bate and Capt. Crofts were then going out; yet he insisted on his friend's having satisfaction first; to which Capt Crofts, replied, in a way that did him honour, that he was highly offended at the mode of Mr. Fitz-Gerall's calling on Mr. Bate, after they had agreed to go out on one and the same quarrel, and said that he never understood that one man was bound to fight a whole company, where the supposed offence was given in gross, and not in particular. Mr. Fitz-Gerall however continued his anger, saying that his friend could not wait, and he was determined Mr. Bate should not go out with Capt. Crofts till his affair was settled. From this circumstance, Mr. Lyttleton and Mr. Dawes then thinking, from the particulars they had heard on both sides, a trifling acknowledgment that each was wrong, would be best, recommended it to the parties, who, with some difficulty complied, and were made friends. Thus ended matters relative to Capt. Crofts; and with respect to Mr. Fitz-Gerall, he declared, that had Capt. Crofts, Mr. Bate, and their seconds, Mr. Dawes and Mr. Lyttleton, gone out, he would have prevented a duel, by putting the former under an arrest. The former matter being thus settled, Mr. Bate desired Mr. Fitz-Gerall to introduce his friend, who he alledged was injured. He answered, that it would be better without, for that he was a hot-headed man, and might come to blows without ceremony. Mr. Bate, however, insisted on seeing him, observing that he could not receive any violence from him, being conscious he had never offended him. On being introduced, he said, unless Mr. Bate would box him, he would beat him in every public place he met him. Mr. Bate then said, if he did, he would defend himself; for though he was capable of boxing, he never chose to decide any differences that way, but with those from whom he could have no other satisfaction; still, as Capt. Miles triumphed in this refusal, Mr. Bate, with very great reluctance, consented to meet him on his own terms, and accordingly a long room was fixed on, and Mr. Dawes and Mr. Fitz-Gerall were to second the bruisers, who immediately prepared themselves for battle, in the presence of Mr. Lyttleton, Mr. Fitz-Gerall, and another. At first, the advantage seemed against Mr. Bate, but a fair set-to for about twenty minutes, convinced the company (but particularly Capt. Miles) that Mr. Bate, though inferior in size, was victorious, who never received one blow that he felt. Capt. Miles was sent home in a coach, with his face a perfect jelly, and Mr. Bate was invited to dine with the Hon. Mr. Lyttleton on the morrow, as a proof of the applause he highly merited. A greater instance of true courage never appeared in man, than in Mr. Bate, who according to the proverb, etiam quos contra statuit equos placatosque demisit, enforced the applause of his adversaries."

In consequence of the foregoing imperfect account, the following appeared in the MORNING POST of Friday, July 30.

To the EDITOR of the MORNING POST.

LETTER I.

SIR,

I SHOULD hold it an insult to the world, if this public appeal on a late dispute, was grounded simply on injuries I had received individually. Society at large is however so far connected with it, as to render it a matter of some importance; a misrepresentation of facts cannot therefore be permitted, without a manifest partiality to that indecorum my situation compelled me to correct.

There will not be wanting those, even amongst my own fraternity, rigid enough to censure my conduct in a professional point of view, however commendable it may appear to them in any other. For these I have no other answer, than—I was neither born a Philosopher—nor bred a Pharisee. The candid however, from similar feelings with my own, will acknowledge, that during the outrage I complain of, the formalities of my profession might slumber, without any glaring injustice to decency, or religion.—I mean no contempt to the natural laws of gallantry, when waving their sanction I appeal to the more serious one of humanity, where an helpless woman was wantonly, and repeatedly insulted, by a set of poltroons the most wretched, and contemptible.—

The CASE.

BEING at Vauxhall Gardens on Friday evening last, I saw Mrs. Hartley (in company with Mr. Hartley, Mr. Colman, and Mr. Tateham) seated on a bench, not very far distant from the orchestra. Having the pleasure of her acquaintance, I joined the party and their conversation; when we presently observed two gentlemen pass by, and look at her in a manner not altogether genteel; however, as custom has in some measure ridiculously indulged our fine gentlemen in these familiarities en passant, little or no notice was taken of it. Not satisfied with this indulgence, these gentlemen presently returned, with two or three others of a military appearance, who all seated themselves at a table directly opposite to her, and began an attack in form, resolutely determined to stare her out of countenance. Situated in the middle of her company, she bore this treatment for some minutes, before she even complained to Mr. Hartley of her distress. Imagining that their triumph was near complete, he begged her to continue her seat, till the conclusion of the Cantata then singing, after which we would all retire. These gallant heroes however still continuing the siege, she found herself under the disagreeable necessity of addressing her friends generally, telling us, "That the behaviour of these Gentlemen was so uncommonly rude, she could bear it no longer." On this I turned my head, and discovered four of these pretty beings staring at her with that kind of petit maitre audacity, which no language, but the modern French, can possibly describe! and triumphing over those female distresses which their prowess had nobly occasioned.

To be a silent spectator of such insolence, would be tacitly to countenance it; loudly therefore, in order that they might hear it, I observed to her, "that I begged she would not be distressed, as I would prevent any future insult of that nature."—In consequence of which, I immediately placed myself on a seat directly between them and Mrs. Hartley. This was an intimation, that their behaviour was generally remarked; and I expected to find it at least productive of the end intended; instead of which, I became now the subject of their loud horselaughs and wise remarks. Thus unpleasantly circumstanced, I thought it better to face these desperadoes, and therefore turned about and looked them, in my turn, full in the face; in consequence of which, some distortions of features, I believe, passed on both sides.

Mrs. Hartley, during this latter transaction, rose up, and made for the walk; observing which, I followed her, with the rest of the company, first justly remarking as I quitted the scene, "that they were four impertinent puppies." A gentleman instantly followed me, whom I afterwards found to be Capt. Crofts, of Burgoyne's light dragoons, and asked me, "Whether I addressed myself in that speech to him?"—To which I replied, "Certainly not; as I did not recollect to have seen him in the party."—Not satisfied with this answer, he again demanded, "Whether I called him a puppy?"—To which I rejoined as before, adding however, "That the only way to be perfectly convinced in this particular, was to tell me whether he was one of the four, or more, who formed the party, and then the application would come home; for that I said, and still persisted,—the Gentlemen, who so meanly, and scandalously distressed the Lady with whom I was in company, were four dirty, impertinent puppies."

After this answer, Capt. Crofts observed, that I look'd very big upon the occasion,—surveyed me, with a supercilious kind of air from head to foot, and then remarked, "You are indeed a good tight fellow, and therefore mean to intimidate me I suppose, because you are a boxer." To this he received for reply, "that boxing was by no means my plan; however, as he seemed determined not to be satisfied, but continued to follow me, if he spoke three more impertinent words to me, I would wring his nose off his face."—On this he demanded my name and address, which was instantly given him; I then drew off to my company, imagining that the affair would at least stand peaceably over till the morrow.

Previous to our leaving the Gardens, which we intended to do immediately, we were under the necessity of walking round, in search of one of our company; when at the further end of the walk, we discovered our former assailants, now made doubly formidable by a considerable augmentation.—No sooner did we approach, than they began a fresh attack with redoubled insolence, interlarding their loud sallies of pleasantry, with "Twig the Curate, &c." Submitting to this as long as human nature could do, at last I stopp'd short, with a view of knocking down the first man that insulted me; when Capt. Crofts touched me on the shoulder, called me by name, and begged to speak another word with me, which I complied with, by going back with him; he observed, "That he had forgotten my address, which was the cause of this second application on that subject." I immediately told him again, "No. 17, Clifford's-Inn; but desired that he would now make sure of it, by getting pen and ink from one of the waiters, and take it down;" which he did accordingly.

During this transaction, a little effeminate being, whom I afterwards found to be a Mr. Fitz-Gerall, came up to me, dressed a la Macaroni, and impertinently asked me, "Whether any man had not a right to look at a fine woman?" After getting over my first surprize at this wanton interference of a man, who was not even present at the dispute, I answered, "Most certainly; and that I despised the man who did not look at a fine woman; however, I begged leave to observe, that there were two distinct ways of looking at her—with admiration, and with unauthorized contempt:—that the conduct I censured, was strongly of the latter kind; and on that I founded my opinion, that the offenders were four dirty impertinent puppies." On this, he consequentially remarked, "That even he himself had been served thus, when he look'd at a fine woman." To which I answered, "That I had not the least doubt, but that he merited any observation which might be made to him on that head." On this, he greatly answered, "That he would knock the rascal down who dared to say so;" and nobly put his hand to his sword.

This interesting conference was, for the moment, interrupted by Capt. Crofts, who observed, that he supposed I was a Clergyman. Receiving an answer in the affirmative, he said, "Perhaps then, you will take the advantage of your profession, and not give me the satisfaction I shall demand." To which I replied, That he never should find I availed myself of that, to act in any manner derogatory from the character of the Gentleman.—Mr. Fitz-Gerall now became abundantly pleasant on this discovery of my profession, which I parried as well as I was able; and, in return, began to hold up this creature of all creatures to public derision. The dress, hat and feather,—miniature picture, pendant at his snowwhite bosom, and a variety of other delicate appendages to this man of fashion, were naturally seized upon by me, and set off to the best advantage.—Here, however, as the laugh grew warm against him, I was attacked by a bran-span new face, another redhot Hibernian, who was scarcely intelligible. His ignorance of our language, I believe, preserved me from that insolence, which his savage countenance strongly menaced. Him however I soon cut short, by observing, "that the affair could by no means concern him, and that therefore, he was an impertinent fellow for his pains."

The company who assembled round us, on this occasion, being desirous of knowing the cause of the dispute, I told it them in a few words, and then appealed, whether I had not done as much as could be expected of me, even if wrong in the first instance, by giving my name and address?—And whether Mr. Fitz-Gerall, or any indifferent person, had a right thus wantonly to interfere in a matter, in which he was by no means concerned?—So far sensible of the impropriety of his conduct, he was generally hooted by the whole company, and jostled into the middle of the Gardens, where I left him to lament his folly; and immediately took coach, and returned with Mrs. Hartley, &c. to town.

For a confirmation of these several particulars, I beg leave to refer to the Gentlemen above mentioned. The very extraordinary consequences of this transaction you will receive, in order to lay before your readers to-morrow.

Your's, &c. HEN. BATE.
No. 17, Clifford's-Inn, July 29, 1773.

The succeeding Day, Saturday July 31, the following appeared in the same paper.

To the EDITOR of the MORNING POST.

LETTER II.

SIR,

ABOUT two o'clock in the morning, my servant came to my bed-side, and awaked me, in order to deliver the following laconic epistle, which he said, he had that instant received from a man who had the appearance of a waiter, and was then in my chambers expecting an answer.

COPY.

SIR,

WHEREAS you insulted me last night in a manner not to be suffered by a man, much less by a gentleman; I am determined to have satisfaction; and, as boxing is the exercise you seem to pride yourself upon, and the only one that I apprehend you will partake of with me, this is to give you notice, that if you will appoint your time and place, I will meet you upon your own terms; and if you do refuse to give me the satisfaction I require, I will hunt you up and down London till I find you, and will then pull your nose—spit in your face, and pull your black coat off your back.

A. CROFTS.

To the Rev. Mr. Bate, M.A.

Though in expectation of some interview on the preceding night's fracas, and perhaps a recapitulation of circumstances, yet I must confess, the style of this letter,—the bearer,—the time,—and mode of its delivery, staggered me not a little. However, I ordered my servant to tell the man who waited without,—"That having some little business to settle in the morning, I must defer seeing the Gentleman till two o'clock in the afternoon, at which time I would expect him."—Contemplation naturally arose with me in the morning, when the impropriety of this intended meeting struck me, having no friend, on my part, to be privy to any transaction that might succeed. I resolved, therefore, to adjourn the ecclaircissement of this matter to a place less exceptionable than my own chambers, and in the mean time, prevail upon some friend to be present at the interview. Accordingly I wrote the following, which I delivered to my servant, with strict injunctions not to leave the chambers on any pretence whatever; that if any Gentleman of the name of Crofts, or any Gentleman who said he came from Mr. Crofts, should call, to deliver it to either of them.

To Captain CROFTS.

SIR,

I WAS in hopes, that a moment's reflection would have convinced you of the general impropriety of that conduct last night, I was under the necessity of remarking. However, from a letter the most extraordinary, which I received in bed, at near two o'clock this morning (by the hands I suppose of a waiter) without any date or address, I am sorry to find, that you mean a justification of the measures of your associates, and further, insist upon satisfaction from me for my just censure of them.—The unseasonable hour was the cause of your receiving a verbal answer,—that I should be at home precisely at two o'clock, and expect you. However, upon more serious consideration, I find myself under the necessity of begging you to meet me at the Turk's Head Coffee-house, in the Strand, that I may avail myself of a friend's presence at our interview, lest our conversation be misrepresented.—I shall wait for you till four.—Violent measures are in every point of view disagreeable to me; but, when I wish to avoid them, it cannot be expected that it should be done at the expence of my honour. I heartily wish our meeting may be different from what your threats seem to denounce; for you must take some pains to bring me to extremities. However, sensible that the cause I espouse was strictly a just one, I am determined neither to be shaken from it by menaces, nor intimidated by any of your most desperate resolutions.

I am, Sir, Your most obedient Servant, H. BATE.
No. 17, Clifford's-Inn, Saturday Morning, July 24, 1773.

Immediately upon this, I repaired in search of, and soon found Mr. Tateham, a gentleman who was present at the affray in the Gardens, and who readily accompanied me to dinner to the Turk's Head Coffee-house, in the Strand. On our arrival here, I gave orders to the waiters, that if any gentlemen inquired for me, to shew them to our room. In the course of our dinner, Mr. Dawes, a young gentleman of the law, and a friend of mine, hearing of the nature of the dispute, and of my being there, sent in his name, and begged to attend me through it; to this I willingly consented, as Mr. Tateham was under the necessity of going out of town that evening, and I knew not at a certainty when the matter might be finally decided.

Not long after this, Capt. Crofts, attended by his friend, (whom I afterwards found to be the Honourable Mr. Lyttleton) arrived, who were immediately shewn in. After some customary civilities on each side, Capt. Crofts addressed me, by observing, "That he supposed I knew the nature of his visit."—To which I answered, "I certainly did, if that letter which I had then in my hand was written by him, and contained his sentiments."—He rejoined in the affirmative to both; on which I remarked, that it was not possible then we could go out upon the terms he might require, until he had put some of his threats in execution.

Mr. Lyttleton on this warmly interfered; and observed, "that this was not the time to recapitulate particulars; the matter being simply reduced to one point, which, as Capt. Crofts's friend, he was deputed to ask me, viz. Whether I chose to ask Capt. Crofts's pardon in all the public papers, for saying I would wring his nose off his face, or go out with him in half an hour?"—To this peremptory demand, I directly replied:—"That being sensible of no impropriety in this instance, I should not make any concession at all; nor did I think myself justified, after the treatment I had received in Capt. Crofts's letter, to go out with him, till he had executed one of his threats; after which I would certainly attend him."—

Mr. Lyttleton on this begged leave to reduce the substance of the question and answer to writing; which was done by him and me, in words nearly as above.—After this he asked me, "Whether I was not now wrong in urging Capt. Crofts to strike me; as from his situation in a military capacity, nothing but the life of one of us could atone for it?"—To this I answered, "That having been in the army myself, I was not to be informed of the etiquette thereof in this particular; and was therefore apprized of the grounds on which I stood."

On this Mr. Lyttleton observed, "that he must beg then I would go over to France, lest the consequence might prove fatal to his friend."—This new expedition however, I begged leave to wave, by informing him, "That sensible of the propriety of my conduct, I would by no means leave England, be the event what it would."—Here Capt. Crofts interposed, and said, "The matter might be settled without such an excursion; for as a misrepresentation of my character had been the cause of his sending me the above letter, and being now convinced that the reverse of the report was the fact, he apologized for the error, and acquainted me, that he now looked upon me as a gentleman in every respect."

Immediately upon this, I took him by the hand, confessed his behaviour to be manly, and told him, "That as we could now go out as gentlemen, I was ready to attend him, according to his request:"—Then turning to Mr. Dawes, begged he would provide a case of pistols, and any other necessaries that might be wanting. The Ring in Hyde Park being proposed as the ground, I objected to it, for fear of interruption; and therefore recommended to Mr. Lyttleton and Mr. Dawes, our seconds, to provide a more private place; at the same time intimating a desire, that we might have a gentleman of the faculty near us, in case either of us should unfortunately stand in need of his assistance.—Here Mr. Lyttleton observed, that the afternoon was rather an unusual time for these matters, and therefore urged it might stand over till Sunday morning four o'clock.

To this I answered, "That the affair was disagreeable enough at present in every point of view to me, and therefore I would not on any account, suffer it to hang another night upon my mind." This, with Mr. Dawes's citing the case of Lords Townshend and Bellamont, to prove that it was not so very unusual as was represented, produced an unanimous agreement, that we should therefore instantly take a post coach and four, with a surgeon, drive down to Richmond-Park, and there finally determine the whole difference.

At the instant we were about to quit the room, Mr. Fitz-Gerall abruptly broke in upon us, with his hat on, and, in the most insolent tone of voice, demanded satisfaction of me, "in the name of his friend Capt. Miles, who was without in the Coffeeroom, waiting with the utmost impatience." Haying recovered from the surprize, I answered, "That he came rather mal a propos, as I was going out that moment to settle a point of honour with Capt. Crofts, which I hoped would rectify the whole matter."—To this he replied, "That his friend insisted upon satisfaction first; and therefore I should not go out with any other man until he had received it; and that even after this, there were three or four others who insisted upon the same."—I now appealed to Mr. Lyttleton and Capt. Crofts, to know in what manner I should act; telling them, I could fight but one at a time, and therefore would be directed by them; my second frequently interrupting with similar observations:—I begged leave that Mr. Fitz-Gerall would introduce his friend Capt. Miles, that I might see this man, whom I was assured I could not have offended.

He replied, "he could not do that, as Capt. Miles was so enraged against me, that probably he might beat me." I observed, That I fancied myself in the company of Gentlemen; and even at the worst I could defend myself, and therefore begged he might be introduced.—He now informed me, "That Capt. Miles only came to fight me my own way; and therefore if I did not box him immediately, he would knock me down wherever he saw me in public." Mr. Lyttleton, Capt. Crofts, and Mr. Dawes now interposed, by observing, That I had behaved in every respect like the gentleman; that from my present conduct, my character must have been totally misrepresented; and therefore begged this matter might drop, and Capt. Crofts and I go out to settle our point:—This however Mr. Fitz-Gerall flatly refused; but while I was in conversation with him, Mr. Lyttleton, Capt. Crofts, and Mr. Dawes consulted together, and agreed, that with my consent, the affair between Capt. Crofts and me might be adjusted, if some concessions were made on either side; to which I immediately assented, if it could possibly be done consistent with my honour. Capt. Crofts therefore first declared, "That Mrs. Hartley having been ungenteelly treated, Mr. Bate acted with great spirit and propriety in defending her." To which I readily replied, "That point being granted, I begged Mr. Crofts's pardon for any unguarded expression, which arose from a misunderstanding on both sides."

Thus far being amicably settled, we returned to the former subject; and on Capt. Crofts's retiring, Captain Miles was introduced. Addressing myself to him, I acquainted him, "That I had never seen his face before, and therefore was ignorant how I could offend him." I therefore begg'd leave to ask him, Whether he was the person who took Mr. Fitz-Gerall's part in Vauxhall-Gardens? To which he confusedly answered, "Yes; and he now came to take the part of his friend Mr. Fitz-Gerall." I told him, "That he would be disappointed of the satisfaction he intended himself, for that I never boxed with a gentleman, nor ever would; but if he had a violent inclination to box, and nothing would satisfy him without it, I would send for two chairmen, give them a guinea a-piece, and beat, or be beaten, by them."—Mr. Fitz-Gerall now said, "It did not signify talking any more about it, for that if I did not fight him now, Capt. Miles was determined to beat me at Vauxhall, or any where he next saw me." To which I answered, "I should be there every night next week, and would certainly defend myself."

Here the congress broke up, Mess. Lyttleton, Fitz-Gerall, and Capt. Miles going out. Not willing they should enjoy any thing like the shadow of a triumph, I run instantly after them into the street, perhaps indeed, imprudently, and, overtaking them on the pavement, opposite Catharine-street, I told the Captain, "That rather than receive any public insults, if he would fix an hour on Monday morning, and bring either of the gentlemen then with him, I would meet him, and give him the satisfaction he required." I received no other answer than "Damn ye now, Sir."—Not able to contain myself any longer, I beckoned him into the passage of the Spread Eagle Tavern, where we went into the front dining-room, attended by our friends, as before. I again addressed him, and begged he would not insist upon this porter-like business, or that he would tell me how I had offended him; intimating to him, at the same time, that I shrewdly suspected I could beat him. Not being able to pacify him with words, we stripped, and previous to the onset, I addressed Mr. Lyttleton, "to testify how disagreeable it was to me; and if there could be a propriety in such an exercise, which I much doubted, begged it might be here observed on both sides." These proper preliminaries being settled, the Captain received in about fifteen minutes the satisfaction he required, not being able to discern a single ray of light, by which to find his way home.

Three Irish Chairmen, I have this instant learnt, were hired to attend the meeting (according to their own confession to Mr. English, Hosier, in Catharine-Street) "to see their little Tommy, (Capt. Miles) had fair play;" and if it came to a riot in the street, that they might lend a friendly hand, to carry the point of an infamous assassin.

This ungentlemanlike business being however settled, we all returned to the Turk's Head, except the unfortunate Capt. Miles, when my conduct was in general highly commended, and Mr. Lyttleton, on his leaving us, begged I would oblige him with my company to dinner the next day, (Sunday.)

On their departure, Mr. Dawes and I began to collect together some circumstances, which led us to suspect, that this Capt. Miles was an hired bruiser.—His most amazingly confused address, the manner in which his friends treated him, and his new awkward vestments, all conspired to convince us he was a made-up gentleman for the business. Determined, however, to act with caution in the investigation of the matter, the next day when I dined with Mr. Lyttleton, I asked him in the drawing-room apart, "Whether he knew Capt. Miles?" To which he answered, with a shrug of the shoulders, "He did not." Not a word more on the subject passed the whole day, though Capt. Crofts and Mr. Fitz-Gerall were of the party.

On the Monday morning I was informed, that his vanquished friend Capt. Miles was Mr. Fitz-Gerall's own footman. In consequence of this intelligence, which was a confirmation of my own suspicions, I sent the following note to Mr. Lyttleton:

COPY.

Clifford's-Inn, Monday July 26, 1773.

MR. Bate's compliments to the Honourable Mr. Lyttleton, and requests he would favour him with the address of Mr. Fitz-Gerall.—Every thing having been settled of the late fracas to Mr. Bate's entire satisfaction, except the affair of Mr. Fitz-Gerall's friend, the boxing Capt. Miles, he wishes to have that single point (which appears at present mysterious) cleared up, to complete the general ecclaircissement.

To the Hon. Tho. Lyttleton, Gerrard-street.

To this I could get no answer till Tuesday, which was then but a verbal one, with, "his compliments, and that Mr. Fitz-Gerall was to be found always at dinner at the Cocoa-tree."

I now immediately wrote and sent the following:

COPY.

Clifford's-Inn, Tuesday July 27, 1773.

MR. Bate's compliments to Mr. Fitz-Gerall, and having a small matter of business to settle with his friend Capt. Miles, requests the favour of his address, or the name of the place at which he is most likely to be met with.

To — Fitz-Gerrall, Esq. Cocoa-tree, Pall-Mall.

From sending repeatedly after him, I received the following concise message at twelve o'clock at night, "That there was no answer."—On the Wednesday I therefore wrote thus to him:

COPY.

Clifford's-Inn, Wednesday.

MR. Bate's compliments to Mr. Fitz-Gerall, and is sorry to inform him, that the message he has received in answer to his note, gives him strong reason to apprehend, that there are some grounds for the report, that his friend Capt. Miles, was no other than his own footman. However, not willing to condemn him without the fullest conviction, he gives him by this intimation, an opportunity of confirming the truth, or falsity of such report.

To — Fitz-Gerrall, Esq. Cocoa-tree, Pall-Mall.

To this I have not been able to procure the least answer whatever, even to the present hour.—

This is a strict, and nearly literal recapitulation of the various occurences which have attended this dispute, and is now presented to the public for their conclusions. From the tenor of the whole, I hope it will be at least observable, that wherever I erred, it was from judgment only, and not from principle. The reader will discover, that I have been particularly attentive to the darkest hero of the piece, whose principal shades have ever owed their height of colouring to the distresses he could force upon an individual, or his daring outrages on society at large. This intimation will therefore be sufficient to prevent the public interposition, should such a wretch be severely cudgelled by the man he has now so grossly insulted; who means only by so friendly an act, to prevent his making a more general atonement at the hands of a common executioner.

I am, SIR, Yours, &c. H. BATE.
No. 17, Clifford's-Inn, July 30, 1773.

In consequence of an unseasonable visit from Mr. Fitz-Gerall to Mr. Bate, at his chambers on Sunday morning, the following was published in Monday's MORNING POST.

LETTER III.

To — FITZ-GERALL, Esq.

SIR,

THE honour of your visit to me this morning at one o'clock, was of so singular a nature, that a public acknowledgement of it cannot be chargeable with any violent impropriety.—It will save us both an infinity of trouble. The curious will be informed of the circumstances on both sides, without the tedious formalities of separate narrations.—

In the late infamous affray, from whence I derived the melancholy consequence of your acquaintance, it is I believe, generally understood, that I acquitted myself with a tolerable degree of prudence and fortitude. The voice of candour has therefore upon that event, prescribed a solemn distance between us for ever: you will, perhaps, think it too rigid; since it will now scarce permit me to look down upon, or lament the situation of a wretch, since that wretch is the wanton, self-created, out-cast of society. Yet premeditated Villainy must not go unpunished: However dark and secret his footsteps, I will industriously trace the monster, till public atonement be made, or he hide his savage head eternally in oblivion.

I would fain attribute your dark attempt of last night, or rather this morning, to those Bacchanalian sallies, which have regularly preceded you to the chair of Infamy: But it savours too much of deliberate villainy, to be less than the machination of some daemon of revenge.—I own my situation was somewhat unpleasant, when four armed gentlemen, attended by two others, came to my chambers in the dead of night, knocked up my servant, and endeavoured, under a feigned voice, and other specious pretences, to allure me from my bed: the instant I had entered amongst you in the dark, I doubt not but your triumph had been complete. The summons of a known poltroon I never obey, and therefore I escaped; for, Mr. Fitz-Gerall I believe was the only one who had even a pretence for speaking with me. I honour the impudence of that man, who, knowing he has too far degraded himself below the dignity of a gentleman ever to be seen in that light again, now talks of nothing but Bullets and Bagshot. Before my knowledge of your friend Captain Miles, you could tamely submit to be called an impertinent, meddling puppy in the midst of Vauxhall Gardens; a phrase that would have called forth the resentment of a grocer's apprentice; but when you and the world are informed of the mode of chastisement I have laid out for you, and which is the only one I can now condescend to bestow upon you, we hear of nothing but Slugs in a Saw-pit.

Think not, young gentleman, that the humours of last night, however oft repeated, will shake me from my resolve. I have zeal in some instances, which may surmount the resolution of an assassin. Should you continue to watch each pale moon to her chambers of retirement through the circling year, and then steal out when darkness reigns propitious to your design, still, as long as I can escape the stiletto, the ruffian shall be dragged forth, however reluctant, to public view; where, as his designs were dark and horrid, his punishment shall be proportionably ignominious.

I am, Sir, Yours, &c. H. BATE.
Clifford's Inn, Sunday noon, Aug. 1. 1773.

The day after, Tuesday Aug. 3, the following was published in the GAZETTEER.

LETTER IV.

To the Rev. Mr. HENRY BATE.

SIR,

THE unwarrantable freedom you have taken with my character in your narrative of the Vauxhall transactions, and the little regard you have paid to truth and candour, constrain me to lay before the public a true and impartial account of that affair, so far as I had any concerns in it directly or indirectly: Nor can I entertain the least doubt, but that upon a fair hearing, my conduct from the beginning to the end will bear the common sterling stamp of the gentleman, the man of honour, and, (if rightly considered by Mr. Bate himself) the real friend.

To begin then my justification; even you yourself, Mr. Bate, will do me the justice to acknowledge I was not present when the pretended rudeness you so much complain of was offered to Mrs. Hartley. In fact I was in another part of the gardens: But the rumour being instantaneously spread over the whole place, that Capt. Crofts had been insulted with the grossest abuse and foulest language by a gentleman then unknown; I own, Sir, I made what expedition I could to find my friend, in order, if possible, to prevent any fatal consequences. When I found Capt. Crofts, Sir, you was in conference with him, words had run very high between you both, and the cause of all this fracas, it seems, was, that "Mrs. Hartley had been looked at in a manner (as you say) not altogether genteel." This being the ground of the quarrel, I thought there was room to qualify the supposed affront that had unintentionally been given to this lady, and I observed, that certainly every man had a right to look at a fine woman. I flattered myself, that by giving Mrs. Hartley that epithet, which so justly is her due, I should receive at least a decent, if not a polite answer, more especially as I declared to you, that I only came to mediate the affair. Sir, I am now appealing to the tribunal of the public, and upon my honour I solemnly declare I had no other intentions when I accosted you, but to mediate the affair between Capt. Crofts and you. The one I knew to be a gentleman, the other, by his dress, appeared to be so; and I was in hopes of reconciling you both. But, Sir, what opinion must the public have of your veracity in telling your own tale, when, instead of thanking, or at least meeting me half way in my endeavours to mediate, you abruptly answered in these very words, "Damn you for your mediation; you are an impertinent puppy for your pains." This answer of yours, Sir, you have not only jesuitically with-held from the public; but you are pleased to tell them another story, and add, "that on this, I greatly answered, I would knock the rascal down who dared to say so, and nobly put my hand to my sword." Sir, you know in your own conscience I never mentioned the word rascal, nor did I tell you that I would knock any man down who dared to say so. Nature, Sir, has not cast me in an athletic mould, nor has the science of bruising had any share in my gymnastic education. It is true, indeed, when you gave me the ungentlemanlike answer I have mentioned above, I observed to you that you had no sword, but that you might easily borrow one, and that we had better retire than make any noise in so public a place. I declare, Sir, upon my honour, that at the time I gave you this whisper in the ear, I was an utter stranger to your profession; nor, from your preceding behaviour, could I possibly divine that you were in holy orders; much less could I dream of any such thing by the answer you gave me, which was, that you did not chuse to encounter me that way, but that, if I had a mind to try my skill at bruising, you was entirely at my service. Thus, Sir, stood the demelé I had with you, when Capt. Crofts gave me to understand that you was a PARSON. Upon this ecclaircissement you are pleased to say, that "I became abundantly pleasant and witty upon your ecclesiastical character." The real truth is, and I will not disguise it, I replied, That I was ashamed of your behaviour, and that you ought to have your gown publicly stripped from off your shoulders; and from that moment I determined, Sir, even though your conduct towards me had been a thousand times more reprehensible than it really was, and though you had sworn a thousand more oaths than I am sorry to say you did, I determined within my own mind to pay every possible respect to your cloth, and treat you as a man, who, if not out of his senses, was at least within the sacred pale and protection of the church. For, Sir, I had a character at stake, which I might have endangered, had I applied either my sword or my cane, knowing you to be a clergyman. But, Sir, notwithstanding the lenity and prudence I manifested on this occasion, I cannot help repeating, that I think you deserve to have your cassock pulled over your ears. I may, however, be erroneous in my judgment, as no person is a proper judge in his own cause; but if you think my judgment in the wrong, Sir, I am very willing to submit the censure I thus pass upon your public conduct to the decision and final adjudication of your own Diocesan, who, I understand, is the Bishop of London, and whom all the world must allow to be a competent arbitrator.

GEO.-ROB. FITZ-GERALL.

The succeeding day, this answer came out in the MORNING POST.

LETTER V.

To GEO.-ROBERT FITZ-GERALL, Esq.

SIR,

WHEN villainy has wrought the human mind to a certain degree of deformity, the phaenomenon, attracting our admiration, may influence the weakest of our passions.—Having confessed the originality of your character, and even now astonished at such a wonder-work of Providence, considering the frailty of human nature, I wish our dealings hereafter to be as limited as possible. I own that you have betrayed me into a weakness, by forcing me for a moment to dispute the rectitude of the universal system. But, doubtless, the same extensive Wisdom who gave being to the blood-enveloped house-breaker, and assassinating footpad, found it necessary, in his mysterious operations, to create a being, in whom should center the deformities of both. The man, impatient of violent injuries, may here be rather innocently led to arraign the Divine Justice; but I am thankful, that reflection has weight enough with me to banish such melancholy ideas; and rejoice from thence to find, that a sacred ne plus is assigned even to the most refined degeneracy. If we could ever be led to doubt the position, your letter of this day must convince us—that the vicious ignorance of the darkest profligate betrays itself in language; and that his vices are therefore seldom or never contagious, but from a personal intercourse.

Being now in no danger of becoming a convert to the creed of libertinism and treachery, from the impotence of those arguments dealt out for their support by niggard Nature, a distant correspondence of this kind I will never refuse you. If such condescension can at all amuse in this your disgraceful state of exile from society, I have that Christian charity which will not let me with-hold it from you.—Forlorn and wretched as you really are, I will give you a temporary relief from the pangs of self-conviction, by enticing your feeble talents ever and anon into their diminutive kind of exertion.

Dragged forth with horrible reluctance, ten days being elapsed, you make a miserable entrance in this day's Gazetteer; and after the example of every selfconvicted culprit, unwilling to plead guilty, you make a contemptible appeal to the public, in the nature of a defence. Generously giving you credit for its masterly formation, I apprehend the whole burden of it to be strictly this:—That your interposition was that of a mediator;—that I damn'd you for your mediation, and called you an impertinent puppy for your pains;—that you told me I had no sword on, but that I might borrow one;—and that I replied, I did not chuse to engage you that way, but that if you had a mind to try your skill at bruising, I was entirely at your service.—

Unfortunately for you, my gentle Paris! not a shadow of truth rests on either of these assertions, except that indeed of your being "an impertinent puppy for your pains," which I acknowledged in my letter of yesterday to have said to you; nor need you therefore have taken such an infinity of pains to enforce, what is already so strongly impressed on my mind, and on that of the public.

Rescued from the danger as a naked man, I cannot now but laugh at your savage notions of a mediator;—but my wonder ceases, when I recollect to have read of two gentlemen going out to fight, one of whom was shot through the head by a mediatorial friend, in order to prevent the consequence of a triumph on either side.—I fancy Capt. Crofts cannot but recollect the mode of your first address, and therefore I will not enforce the evidence of my friends, till that gentleman, or some other, will step forth in public, and bear you witness. As far as respects the sword business, it is entirely either the effect of a phrensied and distempered brain, or the paltry, forged evasion of an equivocating reptile. To one and the same cause must I assign the origin of the bruising, since I repeatedly and studiously told you all, THAT was never my plan. Nay, had it been,—what could tempt me to it, when Mr. Fitz-Gerall was the tiny object of my resentment! I appeal to your friend Capt. Crofts, whether I did not repeatedly disown such a mode to him? and if I waved it here, where some triumph might have been the consequence, how could I condescend to think of such an operation, when your little presence of aerial divinity courted my thoughts from manhood, to a silent contemplation of the progressive beauties of the pigmy system?

No, my dear little whimsey-formed being, let no such rude forebodings disturb thy pretty peace in future! Terrific as my strides appear to such silphs and silphids, I have long forgotten that school-boy pleasure of breaking butterflies on the wheel; nor would I now crush a noxious reptile, had it not attempted to sting the foot, that meant not to disturb it.

I cannot take leave of you, without acknowledging your political merit, in referring the nature of our dispute to the arbitration of the Bishop of London. I will not accuse you with the thought, notwithstanding its excellence.—Candid as it may appear, I must however decline it, tho' no man esteems this illustrious prelate more than I do. I know his worth, as a man; his excellence, as a christian: yet his decree must be in some respect, opposite to the feelings of humanity. You know not perhaps, the motto of the reverend bench, "If a man smite thee on the right cheek, turn unto him thy left also." This, I own is an excellent system, accompanied with lawn sleeves: these pious appendages have a soporific quality, depriving the wearers of any other than a theorical knowledge of it. However, point me not out to their Lordships as an heretic in this instance; for I have no objection to fall into their notions, upon similar terms.—

The fiery taper of youth will naturally burn less and less glaring, as Time with frigid hand shall call forth his hoary emblems on our head. The mitre then adorns the reverend brow; the holy crosier guards its single priest from violence.—In this calm stand-still of life, the hour may come, when I shall wish for such sacred protections; and without an abundance of miracles, time might vouchsafe to work me to the sacred purpose.—Then, being free from the wanton attacks of libertinism, my right-reverend feelings, would be reduced to a narrow and peaceable compass;—then could I perhaps, declaim in favour of that non-resistance which my youthful impetuosity pointed out as no virtue, and even being smitten by Mr. Fitz-Gerall on the right cheek, might, from a fortitude truly religious,—turn unto him my left also.

I am, SIR, Your's, &c. HENRY BATE.
Clifford's-Inn, Aug. 3, 1773.

Mr. FITZ-GERALL's LETTER to the Rev. Mr. HENRY BATE, concluded in Thursday's GAZETTEER, August 5.

LETTER VI.

To the Rev. Mr. HENRY BATE.

SIR,

THE letter I addressed to you, Sir, in Monday's Gazetteer, I flatter myself hath fully convinced the impartial Public, my conduct throughout this transaction hath been that of the gentleman, and the man of honour: of the gentleman, by my treating you as such, so long as I took you to be a LAYMAN. Of the man of honour, by ceasing to demand satisfaction, the very moment I knew you to be in holy orders. It now remains that I convince the same impartial Public, that I also acted to you as a real friend; I say real friend, Sir, because if I see a Clergyman of the Church of England scandalously exposing himself in public, and can possibly make him feel his folly so as to prevent a return of a similar paroxysm; I think, Sir, even in your own opinion, I must be allowed to be doing that Clergyman an act of real friendship. If you grant me this position, then my reply is, "Nathan, thou art the man." For I appeal to the whole company who were that night at Vauxhall, whether they did not deem you, as a man, lost to all sense of public shame, public character, and public decorum?

Desperate as your disorder was, I did not despair to cure it. The only doubt with me was the modus curandi.

To have consigned you over to Lord Mansfield's tipstaff might possibly have had a temporary effect, but it would not have gone to the root of the disorder, and a relapse in such a calenture as yours, seemed to me to be death unavoidable.

On the other hand, had I taken this matter up seriously, had I attempted to convince you, that the fate of nations is not now-a-days, decided by bodily strength or muscular adroitness, but by the fusil, bayonet, and cannon; and that consequently, in a political point of view, the science of bruising, so far as it relates to gentlemen who are born to command fleets and armies, can be of no service, and therefore contemned by them as a thing of no value; nay, had I even acknowledged that I approved of this bruising science, when confined to the lower class of people, because I think the national habits of vulgar courage ought never to be checked; I say, Sir, had I attempted to have reasoned with you in this manner, I should only have added fuel to fire. The only method then I could make use of with any hopes of success, was to hold up to you the mirror of ridicule, not doubting but that I should find with the poet Horace,

Ridiculum Aeri

Fortius ac Melius, magnas plerumque secat res.

On this plan, Sir, I will not conceal from you, that my first intention was to have borrowed one of Foote's wooden heroes; strip him stark naked, put him in a true Broughtonian attitude, and have told you, that he insisted upon your fighting him. It was objected, that you must certainly see through the game that was going to be played upon you. I was, indeed, of a different opinion; and I observed, that if the Knight of La Manch, who, in every respect, that of frantic courage excepted, was an excellent scholar, and an accomplished gentleman, could seriously encounter a wind-mill, or a barber's bason, your disorder being similar to his, you would easily fall into a similar deception, specie recti.—However, Sir, to comply with my friends, I suffered my opinion to be over-ruled; yet unwilling to leave you uncured, I dressed one of my servants, introduced you to him, as a person you greatly affronted, and a pitched battle ensued between you both, to the great diversion of the few bye-standers, who were privy to the secret, which hath been pompously recorded by your own pen in the Morning Post. But there is one little circumstance, which out of charity I now tell you, and that is, I gave my servant strict orders not to beat you unmercifully, and when we thought he had given you a sufficient dose, we not only interposed and parted you, but we highly commended your bravery, and made you believe that you had sealed up both the peepers of the redoubtable Capt. Miles.

The good intention I had in playing the risible farce upon you, was, that when you should come to the denouement of the plot, you might see quasi in speculo into what an infinite number of absurdities, embarrassments, and vulgarisms your unclassical propensity for bruising must, as a Clergyman, unavoidably betray you; for, a man, not absolutely bereft of reason, to see his error, is to be half cured of it; and I had flattered myself, indeed, that I had happily made this half-way progress, and was determined to be an autoptical witness of the real fact. With this intent I went last Saturday to your chambers in Clifford's-Inn; Mr. Montague, Mr. Lyttleton, and Mr. Storer were so obliging as to accompany me. It was nearly eleven o'clock at night, when I pleased myself with thinking that cool reason would have resumed her empire, and that I should have found you preparing yourself for the next morning's function of your holy office, and that consequently all rancour, animosity, and ill-will was buried for ever in oblivion. But, Sir, how greatly were my hopes crest-fallen, when after gently knocking at your door, I found it barricadoed against me, though I repeatedly told you my name, and the real purport of my visit. In return for this my care and attention, all the satisfaction I could obtain was, to hear myself called, "an assassin," with reiterated assurances from your own lips, that the first time you should meet me, either in the Mall, Vauxhall, Ranelagh, or the Pantheon, you would break every bone in my skin. Sir, it is an easy matter to talk of breaking bones; but if you are not incurably gone, I now caution you not to attempt putting your menaces into execution. For if I must be serious with you, Mr. Bate, you ought to know that the gentleman who can respect the protection of your cloth to a certain degree, will beyond that degree protect himself. And I must further observe to you, that if in the defence of my person, any fatal consequence should happen either to you or myself, the blame will now lie at the door of your Diocesan, and not at that of

Your humble servant, GEORGE ROBERT FITZ-GERALL.

Mr. BATE's Answer in the MORNING POST of Friday, August 6.

LETTER VII.

To GEO.-ROB. FITZ-GERALL, Esq.

SIR,

THE thread of inconsistent villainy being this day re-united, I have now before me the whole contemptible defence of the most daring, yet ridiculous, disturber of the public peace.—It has been observed, that my former letters soared too far above the narrow limits of your puny understanding. I admit in part the propriety of the remark, and therefore, in this reply, I shall studiously confine myself to that simplicity of language which is found the abler advocate in the cause of virtue.

Pardon me, if here I breathe a digressive sigh for some noble and worthy personages, who, till the fatal conclusion of your letter, had comforted themselves with a flattering idea, that their kinsman was rather vicious from accident, than from principle, or fatal necessity. The tears of penitence, young man, are a grateful and efficacious offering even to despairing friends, winning them, as it were, by enchantment, almost to our own terms of remission;—but, from your example, we are taught not to wonder, that a wanton and stubborn perseverance alarms the dignity of their fortitude, and bids them renounce for ever the villain they could not reclaim.—

I have hitherto, Mr. Fitz-Gerall, in this correspondence with you, trifled with my own consequence, rather pursuing the delusive flights of imagination, than standing forth simply your accuser, as the injured man. However, a just and public sacrifice can never be out of season, and therefore I will now pin you down to that public stake of infamy, from which the extravagance of your conduct will never let you rise. Behold me, therefore, literally a rigid accuser, no longer wishing to trifle with the despondency of a criminal, or the patience of the public, his appointed judge.—If shame will permit you to look up, you may now see how truly formidable is an injured individual rationally collected, and inspired with a strong but temperate fortitude, the powerful staff ordained to support him.—The public, Sir, are impatient for the decision, and therefore no hired evasions will longer avail you. The following black indictment courts your dejected eyes; and truly dismal is such a scroll, which bears the stamp of unshaken authenticity.—

CHARGES Against GEORGE ROBERT FITZ-GERALL, Esq.

- I. I have all along accused you, and now more solemnly accuse you of being a wanton leader of the second attack against me in Vauxhall-Gardens;—of being an impertinent meddler in my dispute with Capt. Crofts, to whom I had previously given my name and address; averring that the mode of your mediatorial interposition was audacious, and presuming.

- II. I accuse you of publickly sporting with my profession; of putting your hand to your sword against me as a naked man, without the least intimation at any time of your desiring satisfaction of me for the extorted ridicule, you received from me in the Gardens.

- III. I accuse you of breaking into a [*] private room the next morning, in the most insolent manner, just at that instant when Capt. Crofts and I were going out to terminate our difference; and, ruffian-like, prevented it, by insisting that your friend Capt. Miles should have satisfaction first.

- IV. I accuse you of introducing your own servant to me as a gentleman and an officer; and of persisting in my boxing with this savage, notwithstanding the interposition of Mr. Lyttleton and Capt. Crofts, who repeatedly told you "that my character had been misconceived, and that I had acted in every respect like the gentleman, and man of honour."

- V. I accuse you likewise of hiring three other Irish ruffians, and planting them at the door of Mr. English, the corner of Catharine-street, in order to aid and assist in your infamous project, should it be necessary to enforce it in the street.

- VI. I accuse you of totally misrepresenting the consequences of the boxing business, since your friend was beat stoneblind in reality, and I did not receive a single blow.

- VII. I accuse you of misrepresenting the time of your intended assassination at my chambers on the Sunday morning, it being more than a quarter after one o'clock, as can be testified, if necessary, by the affidavit of the porter of the Inn.—

This dark catalogue of positive charges, I solemnly lay at your door, and defy your every exertion to remove them. The fact on which they are grounded, I shall conceive as admitted even by your own partizans, who were present at the transactions, except one or more of them step publicly forth, and confute them. I now leave you for the present despicable in the eyes of this vast metropolis, and even condemned, alas! by the generous natives of your own kingdom; whose notions of honour, though sometimes too chimerical, will not permit them even to rank with a countryman, who, harsh as it may sound, stands convicted as An INCENDIARY,—a LYAR,—and a POLTROON.

Yours, &c. H. BATE.
Clifford's-Inn, Thursday, Aug. 5.

The following appeared in the GAZETTEER of Monday, August 9.

LETTER VIII.

To the Rev. Mr. BATE.

BY seeing this letter in the paper, do not think I mean to continue a literary correspondence with you, Sir, who thrive by scandal, and live upon defamation; I therefore declare, that as this is the first, so it shall be the last time I will publish any thing concerning the late affair at Vauxhall. I had indeed imagined that you and I, Sir, had finally settled all our differences: but as I find you have revived the subject, by your letters in the Morning Post, it is incumbent upon me to set the misinformed public right, in some particulars which you have grossly falsified.

You publicly call upon me to certify the truth of your having declined boxing, during the whole course of your proceedings. Now, Sir, I as publicly declare, that so far from declining, you long insisted upon it, refusing me the satisfaction I required, and calling upon me to put my threats into execution, which, you said, you would resent with your fist, and your fist only; and it was in consequence of Mr. Lyttleton's assuring you, that the issue of the affair must then of necessity be fatal, that you condescended to "wave your privilege;" and, for the first time in your life, put yourself upon the footing of a gentleman.

Again, Sir, in your letter to Mr. Fitz-Gerall, you assert that I said, "Mrs. Hartley having been ungenteelly treated, Mr. Bate acted with great spirit and propriety in defending her."—This, Sir, as I never thought, I never said: the concluding words that passed between us were as follows; I confessed that you would have acted properly in protecting a lady who had in your company been publicly affronted, but that I did not think Mrs. Hartley came under that predicament; and as to myself, I neither intended nor offered her an insult. In answer to which, you replied, "I am sorry my passion forced improper words from me, and I ask your pardon." These, Sir, were your words; and as they were much attended to, they must have been heard and remembered by every gentleman present. I little thought the affair would have terminated thus amicably, as I was far from imagining that there would have been any stop put to my determined resolution of chastising your insolence.

Now, Sir, I take my leave of you, advertising you that I have heard of your terrific threats, and denunciations of revenge. These I look upon as the ravings of a lunatic, and the frantic workings of a distempered brain. If, however, you have coolly concerted schemes of meditated vengeance, I shall not, Sir, appeal to the mediation of your diocesan, or the interposition of Justice Fielding. I, Sir, am a soldier, and look equally with an eye of contempt at the mischief of a monkey, and the malice of a monk.

W. CROFTES.
Richmond, August 5.

Mr. BATE'S Answer, on Tuesday, August 10, in the MORNING POST.

LETTER IX.

To W. CROFTES, Esq.

SIR,

AS a man truly sensible of your situation, I cannot but pity your misfortunes.—You must at last I think discover, the fatality of your league with an abandoned and despicable associate, who will not let you now enjoy that retreat from an extravagant imprudence, which your penitentials, and my sympathy, had happily wrought for you. Convicted himself,—after the most candid and dispassionate hearing, he seems divested of that savage kind of clemency which has dignified the robber and assassin; who bear individually the vengeance of society, rather than involve the partner of their guilt in the horrors of their punishment. This was the etiquette of heroic villainy; but now lost in the dastard refinements introduced by our modern fine gentlemen: for Mr. Fitz-Gerall has hauled you forth, ere the conscious blush of guilt had lost its empire o'er your cheek, insisting that you shall make a similar atonement with him, and that on the same public, and disgraceful scaffold.

With what a becoming diffidence do you face the world, Mr. Croftes, in this day's Gazetteer!—Your anticipations are so melancholy and well founded, that I could, as far as respects myself, let them die away contemptibly with the jargon and nonsense of the day.—We lament the distresses of the wretched, culprit mariner, who declares with aching heart, that if he weathers but the perils of his present voyage, he ne'er will tempt the watery main again.—Yet Society has its sacred claims on culprits of every denomination; on that account, though you studiously wish to preclude my reply, I cannot let you fall a slow and miserable sacrifice to your own wretched feelings and falsehoods, when one friendly crush may annihilate you for ever.

After a lethargy of three tedious summer weeks, you are roused from your somnolency, and now attempt to invalidate a simple narration of facts, which your silence, and the public candour, have solemnly confirmed. However apparently insignificant its orbit, that little fiery meteor Fitz-Gerall has its influence I perceive on certain pliant bodies; forcing the timid into that disgraceful service in which he himself has been so shamefully defeated. The servile awe with which the whole petit maitre tribe look up to this gilded phantom of prowess, is a justification of your prudence. I jump with you in opinion, that an experimentary insult on a peaceable clergyman, who fights not but from necessity, is less hazardous, than even a difference in opinion with another, whose valour is founded on [*] "his having fought eleven duels," and whose principal beauty arises from having lost the roof of his skull by a pistol shot.—

The world, Sir, are already convinced of your folly, and my circumspection.—I will not therefore now dispute with you myself on the two facts, the subject of your letters, which you have so totally misrepresented. The candid will be satisfied without it; and even the incredulous shall be eased of any doubts and scruples about it, by the public testimony of those Gentlemen, who were present at the discussion.

I cannot however but remind you of this aukward introduction of yourself to the public.—You acknowledge to stand forth on my appeal.—Now, Sir, if my memory serves me, the appeal was to prove, "that I observed to you repeatedly at Vauxhall, that boxing was by no means my plan, and therefore, if I refused to you, where some honour might succeed a bruising conquest, how could I (in Vauxhall observe) think of such a mode with the tiny Fitz-Gerall?"

Your masterly reply (admitting it true for the moment) is, "That I insisted upon your putting the threats of your letter in execution, &c. &c. the next day at the Turk's Head Coffee-house." This is a mode of advancing so truly Hibernian, that nothing but Mr. Fitz-Gerall having a mechanical command of you, could possibly have occasioned.

I believe I have worked myself up into that philosophical contempt for complicated vice and folly, to be able to hear any thing you can advance, however false and atrocious, without the least emotion. Since your own passive disposition, and the well-concerted interposition of an Irish renegado, and his attendant ruffians, prevented the proof positive of my courage, I will not sigh for a fresh opportunity of displaying it, but rather be thankful, that my honour has been preserved, without the loss of blood on either side.—You may now indulge yourself, young man, with paroxysms of rage and vengeance; since neither my necessities, nor vices, are so pressing, as seriously to demand my forfeit life,—since I never mean to befriend that most abject of all beings, who has not spirit enough to disengage himself from his miseries, but cowardly courts another's hand to drive him from existence.

As a proof that I never vowed the least vengeance against you whatever, I will even consent that all your anxieties shall cease in future.—You shall be a man of gallantry,—but it must only be in those politer regions, where beaux plume themselves on distressing the fair sex!—You shall be a man of honour—in that country where they ask a public, and an ignominious acknowledgment of a supposed offender, or his blood in half an hour, and yet after that—blush not to make the first concession.—You shall be a man of cool, tho' resolute courage,—where danger is happily precluded by the known interposition of some generous friends.—You shall be a man of strict veracity,—where, after having been mean in one instance, they get over it, by honestly denying the fact in another.

Nay! come back from Richmond;—for, however offensive to Colonel Burgoyne, you shall even be a SOLDIER still!—But it must be in that arduous service, where FORTS and ARMIES own your friend Fitz-Gerall's hereditary government; where they fight with scented quil pop-guns, loaded with bleu mange;—whose armour is composed of miniature pictures, and chicken gloves;—who escape the severities of a noxious climate, by an artificial atmosphere of ambrosial essences.

H. BATE.
Clifford's-Inn, Aug. 9, 1773.

Notes

*
It remains to be answered—How Mr. Fitz-Gerall came to know of this place of meeting, except from Capt. Crofts or Mr. Lyttleton; as Mr. Fitz-Gerall never called at Mr. Bate's chambers; nor did even Capt. Crofts, and his second, Mr. Lyttleton, know it was to be at the Turk's-Head, until the receipt of Mr. Bate's letter to Capt. Crofts a few minutes before their arrival there.
↵

*
This was one, amongst others, of Mr. Lyttleton's observations to me (perhaps in terr••••… ) at the Turk's Head. It seems not to tally, however, with an anecdote now circulating at Stuart's, in Bond-street; where a case of pistols are said to be still hanging as disgraceful mementos of Mr. F—'s forgetfulness.
↵

THE FOLLOWING Occasional LETTERS and SQUIBS, By different WRITERS On the Subject, appeared in the Course of the Debate, As here addressed and dated.

To the PRINTER of the MORNING CHRONICLE.

July 31.
SIR,

YOUR paragraph respecting the late fray at Vauxhall Gardens, diverted me more than any thing I have met with for some time. Surely it could not be as I have heard it whispered: Is it possible little Coly could conceal himself under the Lady's petticoats all the while? I mean, while the rugged parson, like a mastiff bayed the pressing throng? 'Twas very good upon my word: I admire Coly's policy; he could not have got a better bully in the world than a priest; their blows are weighty; he knows that he has experienced them, and lately too.—Was it not great! plume thy feathers, wench, for who but thee could charm two sages from the solemn chair of sophistry, and make them take the cudgel for the pen?—Well, 'tis an ill wind that blows no one any good;—the parson is to write a play—Coly is to bring it out—the lady is to play a principal part in it—and the town is to be diverted with it, as no doubt it will—good luck for the town—some comfort for our theatrical expectations—since there was never a better manager than Coly—a better actress than the Lady—or a sublimer poet than the parson—and I—but don't tell any body—I intend to write them a farce—and what do you think I mean to call it, eh?—perhaps you cannot guess, and so I'll tell you—The Vauxhall Fray, or a Peep through the Pocket-hole—damn'd good, is it not?—don't you think 'twill take?—if it don't, the devil take the town, I say—perhaps I may take it in my head to send it you in a day or two, and if you don't like it, I'll give you leave to print it without my consent, and take the copy-right out of my hands, in spight of my teeth.

Adieu, your's, PEEP-O-MALICO.

To the PRINTER of the MORNING CHRONICLE.

Aug. 3.
SIR,

PEEP-O-MALICO is one of the greatest wits that has ever exhibited in your paper, or indeed in any other; it is pity but his courage was equal to his wit, but where is the man that excels in all things?—He was certainly a party in that entertaining fracas which he has immortalized by his pen, and, from his description of Coly's fear, seems entirely to understand that sensation and its effects.—The public must be delighted with his proposal to write a farce on the occasion; I have no doubt it will be an admirable performance, but a more suitable name might be found. Suppose it was to be called, "The Sham Captain thresh'd, or the Feather in disgrace?"—Peep-o-Malico knows what I mean by the Feather—a fitter subject for a farce could never have been chosen; for what can be imagined more truly laughable than to see FIVE Heroes, all men of the sword—men whose very looks might strike terror—picking a quarrel with one poor Parson, and after having each of them challenged him, and sworn, "If all his hairs were lives, their great revenge had stomach for them all;"—what, I say, could be a worthier subject of dramatic ridicule, than their hiring a footman, and dressing him as a gentleman, to stand their champion in this noble cause?

The piece, if Peep-o-Malico does justice to the story, will have an excellence not often met with in such compositions; it will convey some useful lessons—the Macaroni tribe may learn from it, "That they should be cautious of hunting a prig, lest they should happen to catch a Tartar," and "that a man of spirit, in a just cause, is superior to a little army of bullies, whether in livery or in lace."—I am, Mr. Printer, I assure you, equally unknown to all the parties of this famous Vauxhall affray, but a much diverted spectator last Friday evening, and

Your very humble servant, Q.

To the Printer of the MORNING CHRONICLE.

Aug. 4.
SIR,

THE public has been lately much obliged to the literary talents of a Reverend Gentleman, for investigating a difference between himself and an other, founded on a political cause; they are now entertained with one something similar, and equally as important to the world, but formed on a voluptuous one; for what, Sir, can we style a party at Vauxhall, an intimate acquaintance with a Lady in a public character, and a display of knight-errantry in her defence, but an offering to the shrine of Pleasure? Our young Clergy, convinced of the ill effects of theological disputes, are contriving some means to soften the austerity of religion; sensible how disgustful subjects of that nature are become to this polite age; they have changed the tedious disquisitions of the fathers, to the more gentle topicks of gallantry and honour. 'Tis true their intention is humane and charitable, worthy the applause of the present rewarders of merit; but methinks (to please the generality of mankind) the transition is rather too rapid. Though Mr. Bate did not contemplate, like Harvey, the calm delights of a garden, he might have shunned the tumultuous reverse; he might have enjoyed the social converse of a friend, without making himself the partizan of a quarrel; he could have noticed an insult to a Lady, without particularizing himself in an affair which her husband thought uninteresting. Perhaps he was impelled by a warmer motive, and had a deeper sense of her distress than the other gentlemen present; but still he should have considered the badge of his profession, and stifled his resentment to some degree of stoicism. The world is too apt to judge from such appearance, that priests are juggling with their consciences, that their own example shews the decency and ceremony of religion, is nothing more than a cheat upon them. Great changes are brought about slowly and imperceptibly; men of pleasure will admire the spirit of Mr. Bate, but those who are wont to approach a pulpit, will reflect that the old precepts of obedience and humility, are violated by the very hand and tongue that enforced them; they will appeal to their own understandings, and despise the man who attempts to pay so ill a tribute to their memories, and by losing the good opinion of a few, may fail of their salutary designs in general.

These, Sir, are my thoughts upon the subject, which, if you please, you may communicate to the Public, that those who are engaged in Mr. Bate's laudable plan, may avoid those indiscretions he has been guilty of, and by a "cunning working of the scene," descend gradually to a new mode of religion. May they retain the exalted courage of that gentleman, but endeavour to improve on his conduct, is the wish of

Your constant reader, VERITAS.

For the MORNING CHRONICLE.

To the Reverend Mr. HENRY BATE.

Aug. 5.
SIR,

I AM sorry to see, in your letter of to-day, that you have allowed Mr. Fitz-Gerall any degree of literary reputation. I would not have any man pluck a single bay-leaf, that does not belong to him; therefore I inform you, that Mr. Fitz-Gerall writes, as well as fights, by proxy. His literary substitute is Mr. B—k, Attorney General to the Gazetteer.

I honour your spirit as a man, equally with your abilities as a writer. At the same time I cannot help informing you, that your letters (particularly the last) are generally censured, as too florid and declamatory. This kind of dress is calculated to hide flaws, and varnish over defects, and therefore should properly belong to your antagonist. Yours should be the stern voice of rigid Truth, founded upon stubborn facts. Your case is a good one, and should be enveloped as little as possible. Truth is always painted naked, having no defects to hide, and would make but an indifferent figure in the meretricious ornaments of a modern dress.

I am, Sir, &c. T. R.

For the WHITEHALL EVENING POST.

The MACARONIAD; OR, The PRIEST TRIUMPHANT.

‘ Bella, horrida bella! ’

VAUXHALL, the scene of joy and fight,

Where many a doughty gallant wight,

By drinking dissipates his sense,

And leaves his vigour and his pence:

And when Dame Decency retires,

He minds nor constables nor Tyers,

But boldly flies at whores and lamps,

For nought a Macaroni damps:

Bunters and fiddlers grace his train,

From Italy and Drury-lane;

Who serve to stimulate the flame,

And shameless fill the round of shame.

Such is Vauxhall! and sure of late

It cannot boast of better state;

For certain, ev'ry knave that's willing,

May get admittance for a shilling;

And since Dan Tyers doth none prohibit,

But rather seems to strip each gibbet,

That proper company may grace

His clean-swept—dirty boxing place,

There is no wonder that the thief

Comes here to steal a handkerchief:

For had you, Tyers, each jail ransack'd,

Or issu'd an insolvent act,

Inviting debtors, lords, and thieves,

To sup beneath your smoke-dry'd leaves,

And then each knave to kindly cram,

With fusty chickens, tarts, and ham,

You had not made such a collection

For your disgrace and my dissection.

But many ills doth him environ,

Who madly meddles with a syren;

And such Fitzgiggo's case was partly,

For gazing upon Madam Hartley:

To gaze!—or not to gaze! in fun,

Fops, fools, and fiddlers are undone.

Fitzgiggo foremost let's describe,

Memento mori of the tribe,

A thing so meagre and so thin,

So full of emptiness—and sin,

There's nothing comes before—behind,

But stinks on wings of his own wind;

And yet the thing's so hung with rings,

With buckles, baubles, tambour-strings,

And so baptiz'd with milk of roses,

Which, with his smells, so strike our noses,

That ev'ry gentle air that blows,

Brings something new unto the nose;

As if young Zeph'rus was turn'd pilot,

To waft the sweets of some poor vi'let,

By some unkind mis-hap disgrac'd,

And on a putrid dunghill plac'd;

So let Dan Zephyr do his best,

The dunghill makes his sweets a pest.

Thus did Fitzgiggo gay advance,

Like dismal Death dress'd out to dance.

The second's call'd great Captain Crofts,

(Perhaps a rabbit of Moll Tofts,)

Whose spirit, valour, sense, and mettle,

By some's compar'd to a brass kettle.

The next, my friend, tho' last not least,

Is Lyttleton, the new wild beast,

Who fiercer far than that in Paris,

In pieces tore sweet Sally Harris!

On him, ye Gods! what charms she lavish'd,

And yet Pomona too was ravish'd:

In ravishment there is a joy

Peculiar to the fair and coy;

And yet I think, sweet Sally Harris,

If e'er she swerves, or e'er she marries,

Will find in some a better feature

Than is about this lank dry'd creature.

These three, I say these mighty Three,

Did boldly, soberly agree

To give affront (which is not common)

Unto the sweetest, fairest woman;

For none possess'd of manners, sense,

To such a fair could give offence:

But Macaronies are a sex

Which do philosophers perplex;

Tho' all the priests of VENUS' rites

Agree they are Hermaphrodites.

Therefore this beauty of the stage,

At once with spirit did engage

These furious, milky, mawkish three,

And all who saw her do agree,

That, had not BATE,—himself an host,

(Who dauntless wields the Morning Post)

Bravely stept forth to save her charms,

They all had fall'n within her arms.

As Sampson seiz'd the prison-gate,

In spite and rancour, Parson BATE

So seiz'd the doughty culprits round,

And sprawling laid them on the ground:

The paltry, petty heroes lay,

With eyes, like puppies, seal'd from day;

Here courage left them in the lurch,

And huzzas echo'd for the CHURCH.

For the MORNING POST. The four following on the same day.

To GEO.-ROBERT FITZ-GERALL, Esq.

Salopian Coffee-house, Monday.
My dear Bobby Fitz-Gerall,

YOU have been after getting into the wrong box, do you see now, with this same clargyman; for not satisfied with terrifying you with his bodily strength, for a little peaceable nonsense and sweating at Vauxhall, he now is eternally lapping you with his damn'd great English goose-quill.—But I'll give you a word of advice, my honey, be after stealing a march as soon as you can; and since you may be a little puzzled to answer some of his damn'd logic, which, as a gentleman, you need not be after understanding; why, do you see me, get Capt. Miles to swear himself an Irish gentleman, and hire over again Paddy Murphy, Teddy Bughlin, and Murd. O'Shochlin, who waited in the street to get at the parson's coat, to swear it is all a lie about their being hired, and so you'll get out of this damn'd nasty scrape.

From your's to the bottom, A MILESIAN.

For the MORNING POST.

To Mr. FITZ-GERALL.

A CARD.

AN Officer desires a simple answer to these questions: Whether Mr. Fitz-Gerall's conduct is not too infamous for justification even upon his own grounds in his letter of yesterday?

Whether he would have been tempted to a defence but from the generous intimation of Lord Bristol and the Harvey family, who peremptorily refuse to see him in future, except the principal of the accusation be proved erroneous?

Whether all the Gentlemen at the Cocoa-tree and St. James's coffee-house have not, on this occasion, turned their backs upon him?

Whether he has invalidated a tittle of Mr. Bate's evidence? on the contrary, whether he does not still appear what he was termed by that spirited gentleman, an impertinent meddling puppy? and the whole of his after conduct savour much of the poltroon and assassin?

To the EDITOR of the MORNING POST.

Mr. EDITOR,

By inserting the following you will oblige a constant Reader.

To the Rev. HENRY BATE.

SIR,

IN reading your l•tter to Mr. Fitz-Gerall, on Monday the 2d of August, I there find a phrase, which I cannot altogether agree with you in; you say to Mr. Fitz-Gerall, "That he tamely submitted to be called an impertinent, meddling Puppy, in the middle of Vauxhall-Gardens, (a phrase that would have called forth the resentment of a Grocer's Apprentice.") Now, Sir, as I have been an admirer of your conduct throughout the whole affray at Vauxhall, you will excuse me, as being in trade, of taking the present liberty, as I imagine you address the public in general.—Therefore, Mr. Bate, do you imagine, that a Grocer's APPRENTICE, or any mechanical person, has not the same passions, the same spirit, and the same resentment, as you, or any other person in a higher sphere of life? and I must acquaint you, Sir, that had you, or any other gentleman, used the former expression to me, I should most certainly have used a proper and becoming spirit on the occasion. Now, Sir, if, in your next letter to the Morning Post, you will allow, that a mechanical person, or Grocer's Apprentice, has the same feelings as you, or any of those Gentlemen concerned in the above affray, you will make me still remain, what I already am, an admirer of your conduct.

A Grocer's Apprentice.
Piccadilly, Tuesday Evening, Seven o'Clock.

For the MORNING POST.

To the Petit Maitré a la Macaroni.

SIR,

IF truth belies me not, you are "an impertinent meddling puppy." Heaven forbid I should merit that reproachful epithet or stigma! much less take courage to resent it, though justly bestowed. You will not be easy, Mr. Kickshaw, till you get yourself into bad bread; and what will you do then? Your premeditated, malignant, villainous, and dastardly conduct must by no means pass off with impunity: Mr. Bate would be highly culpable, as a duty he owes to himself and to society, in permitting it. His declared resentment, the offspring of a just indignation, must be put in force, to make you remember how you wantonly abuse any society in future. It is indispensibly necessary, that your Bacchanalian brethren may take warning by the Parson's exemplary punishment.—Because you have a fortune, you are licenced to do as you please, and indulge your wanton and vicious disposition in every thing, be it ever so wicked and opposite to the laws of God and man! If these are your ideas, and this your temper, the sooner you are out of this world the better. I wish reformation to you and your comrades; but, at the same time, am sorry to say, that, when the branch of a young tree begins to bend, it is a difficult matter for it to be streightened when it grows old.

Your's, &c. A LAYMAN.
Clifford's-Inn Coffee-house, August 2.

For the MORNING POST, Friday Aug. 6.

Mr. EDITOR,

AS the late altercations between the Rev. Mr. Bate, and some gentlemen of the laity, at Vauxhall, have prepossessed the Public to know who is the most censurable; I cannot help (as I happened to be a spectator) giving an impartial and candid account so far as I saw and heard, which was as follows, viz.

As Mr. and Mrs. Hartley, the Rev. Mr. Bate, with another gentleman or two were innocently enjoying themselves over a few Vauxhall slices, while their auricular faculties were ravish'd with the melodious strains from the orchestra, suddenly a violent squall of some descendants of Adam (whose occupations might be in the manufactory of wigs, for what I can tell, as I never saw any of them before) overset their tranquillity, and entirely sunk for that night their pleasures to the bottom. The Mariners, however, exerted all their efforts to weather the storm, which I'm afraid they would not have accomplish'd, had not Mr. Bate plied his oar in so judicious a manner as fairly kept them above water, though he rowed into the very nose of the squall. But to be concise,—those gentlemen, the inconsistencies of whose behaviour the Rev. Mr. Bate so sensibly delineated, in my opinion were highly reprehensible; if some open remarks and long impertinent starings to discover the exact symmetry of every feature in Mrs. Hartley's face in that situation, are to be deem'd so. One of the Macaroni Antiloguists, not quite six feet ten inches high, but uncommonly full of garrulity, with a look that would have intimidated a butterfly, thus addressed Mr. Bate; "Parson Bate! Parson Bate, as you are a soul-driver, it would much redound to my dishonour to box you, and as I believe you wou'd thrash me were you to try, I will not attempt it; but you may be assured I shall procure one, who will wallop you to your heart's content, the first time he meets you." By this request Mr. Bate gave them directions where he was to be found, and as to the result, he has candidly laid it open to the public in this paper before; it would therefore be necessary to quote it again.

Upon the whole, I hope every impartial person will acquiesce with me, that the Rev. Mr. Bate acted the part of a man, by heroically frustrating the designs of those that certainly attempted to break a very material part of the Tenth Commandment.

An Impartial Spectator.

To the EDITOR of the MORNING POST.

Aug. 6.
SIR,

MR. BATE having this day published a narrative of the affray at Vauxhall, the public therefore have a right to make their remarks on it. I shall observe then, that I don't in the least doubt the veracity of it in any one particular, for these reasons; first, it is attested with his name, and an appeal to the parties concerned; secondly, the signature wears the name of a man who has acted nobly, in shewing a nice sense of honour, and a man of nice honour scorns a lie. Having so far premised, what must we think of the military gentlemen, in drawing up their brazen artillery to attack a woman, and stare her out of countenance? The answer is plain; that for their rude behaviour to our theatrical Shore, they are undeserving of the name of Gentlemen, in poorly daring to insult a woman. Mr. BATE (like a Dumont) protected her, and every man of honour must applaud him for the part he acted. He was ready to give them either gentleman or ungentlemanlike satisfaction, and to shew there was a poetical justice in the conclusion of this piece; the person who was himself no gentleman (the boxing Capt. Miles) met with ungentlemanlike satisfaction: I am only sorry that the servant received the wages which were so properly due to the master, and that the master was beat by proxy. But there is one point particularly wants clearing up, and the worthy triumvirate are publicly called upon to answer these questions. Was not Capt. Miles a counterfeit man of war, and no soldier (as Brainworm says), or, in plain English, was he not either Mr. Fitz-Gerall's servant, or a person employed to fight for him and the party? Did not Capt. Crofts challenge Mr. Bate at the coffee-house, to try his courage, with an intent, if he was found wanting therein, to expose him as a coward? And, lastly, was not the introducing of the supposed Capt. Miles at the same time, peremptorily insisting, that Mr. Bate should fight him first, a scheme planned to secure a retreat to Capt. Crofts, if Mr. Bate accepted his challenge? Should this be the case, it is making courage, as it were, a game at Brag, and the Captain was bragging with Pam in hand, for there was a knave secured in his favour, being determined not to sleep with his forefathers, but to sleep in a whole skin. An answer therefore is necessary, to remove a stigma, which silence on this head will construe in the affirmative.

Your's, AN OCCASIONAL WRITER.

P.S. I am an entire stranger to Mr. Bate, but will advise him, as a clergyman, against duelling in future, though (in my opinion) when he is insulted, he has a right to make use of those weapons which Nature (that is to say, the God of Nature) has armed him with.

To the EDITOR of the MORNING POST.

August 7.
SIR,

THE conclusion of Fitz-Gerall's reply having made its appearance in this day's Gazetteer, I will venture to say that it is the weakest defence I ever saw; and had a premium been offered for the most foolish production of the daily papers, the Gazetteer would have carried off the prize nem. con. To prove this, what can be more weak and ridiculous than his tale about Mr. Foote's poppets, or more infamous than that a man (pardon the misnomer) who bears a commission under the king, should even bribe his footman to do that which he was afraid to do himself; that is, fight Mr. Bate. This was not only an affront to that gentleman, by putting his footman on a level with him, but to the army in general, in equipping a man with military vestments, cockade, &c. that was a disgrace to it, and could be equalled in infamy only by his master. But to return to Mr. Foote's poppets:—Though it is well known that Mr. Foote does not love fighting himself, I am of opinion he admires that spirit so much in others, he would not even keep a poppet in his pay, that would turn his back on Mr. Fitz-Gerall; whom, for his pusillanimous behaviour in this affair, I shall characterise as a kind of mandrake tottering under the mighty load of a cockade, like the poppy percharged with the morning dew. I shall only say, Mr. Fitz-Gerall in both his letters seems very desirous of having the Bishop of London for his second, as well knowing that the sword, pistol, and hammer of death, form no part of his Lordship's camp equipage; and, should Mr. Bate make his appearance, that he could squat entrenched behind his Grace's Church Bible: But I am afraid he will meet with very little relief from this quarter—for his crime is of so atrocious a nature, that it is not entitled to the Benefit of clergy.

SCOURGE.

For the MORNING POST.

To the insignificant Mr. Fitz-Gerall.

August 7.
SIR,

IN the preamble to your defence, you intimate, that the impartial public will find, that your conduct to Mr. Bate in the late fracas, has been not only that of a Gentleman and Man of Honour, but of a Real Friend. Now, Sir, as I cannot trace the least glimpse of any one of those characters through your whole narrative, I'm apt to conceive some errata have been committed to the press.

I have therefore taken the liberty to read for a Gentleman—a noisy coxcomb; for a Man of Honour—an Assassin; and for a Real Friend, (ob mon Dieu!) a Villain. Indeed, Master Bobby, you have discovered so infamous an heart, that the philosophic eye cannot but drop a pitying tear for the depravity of human nature. Thanks to the Rev. Clergyman for having put his mark upon you. The unwary may now avoid you as a noxious reptile; and the discerning despise you as an infamous scoundrel. There is little doubt, but the bastinado would be of service to you, and as I've your amendment much at heart, the first time you give me a gentleman-like opportunity, I will serve you as my grandfather did Capt. Bobadil. I will wait for no ecclarcissement of the matter: A Blow and a Word is my motto.

YOUNG DOWNRIGHT.
St. James's Coffee-house.

To the PRINTER of the MORNING CHRONICLE.

Aug. 7.
SIR,

SINCE I have had a douse of the chops given me by a satirical rogue in your paper of last Tuesday, pray give me room, while my blood is up, to take a fair knock at him in return; he shall have it, d—n me! in the true Batenian style. Oh, oh! Mr. Q in the Corner, you've taken it into your head to shew your tail at last; I have often heard of Q in the corner, and was always told it was an ugly thing with a long tail; but you are a plaguy fool for shewing your head, and opening your mouth: any body may see it is but a block-head, a mere mechanical wooden head; and I dare say the first knock that I shall hit it, 'twill sound like an empty pumpkin, brainless and light;—and so you are in the queue, for writing, eh? have at you then, and see if I don't set you upon your head;—there, take that—there's a cross buttock for you, Q. I told you I could turn you topsy-turvy in a minute. What a contemptible figure you cut now!—Coly looked not worse when he peep'd thro' the pocket hole; nor the Parson when he was popp'd in the pond, and pelted from the purlieus of Prittlewell, in Essex. You say you know him not; that is another proof of your having a wooden head; for who but a block-head would have exposed his tail in defence of a superficial paragraph-maker; one that has been scribbling these seven years in oblivion, writing abuse for the sake of popularity, and has often been about to hang himself, that he never could extort an answer.—Without a blush, he has addressed the Muses too; but they with indignation turned their backs; Apollo refused to beam one ray upon him, and Pegasus would have kicked his brains out for daring to ride, had not Hercules interfered, and snatched him from despair, advised him to lay down his pen, take up his fist, fix upon the first coward he could meet with, and that way fight his way to fame; and that way the parson has succeeded. And so, Mr. Q, you would advise me to change the title of my farce; but when you know me better, you will find me a man who never takes a fool's advice; I shall give it you under the title I have proposed; The Vauxhall Fray; or, A Peep through the Pocket Hole; I am about the last scene, and you shall have it forthwith; till when, I am your's,

PEEP-O-MALICO.

The following was seen in the MORNING POST of the same day.

A CORRESPONDENT informs us, that the Hon. Mr. Littleton and Mr. Fitz-Gerall are preparing for their travels, the former going to make further discoveries, if possible, on the continent; the latter returning for the benefit of his health, to his native country.

And this in the St. JAMES'S CHRONICLE of the same Evening.

IT is supposed, that the Macaronies, who occasioned the Vauxhall squabble, were deluded into that scrape by the notion that Mr. Bate was a wonderful bruiser; they should not otherwise have acted the cowardly part which their conduct discovers. The loss of an eye or a fore-tooth, or a bruise in the face, is worse than death to a Macaroni; but in an excursion to Bagshot, or an adventure in a saw-pit, none are more ready; for not one of the whole fraternity ever feared in a quarrel, that you should blow out his brains.

To the EDITOR of the MORNING POST.

Aug. 9.
SIR,

MR. FITZ-GERALL being convicted yesterday, on his own confession in the public papers, of infamously employing his footman to fight Mr. Bate, under the disguise of a gentleman in the army, Mr. Lyttleton (for I will not call him the Honourable, till this point is determined) and Capt. Crofts are publicly called upon to answer this question, Were they, or were they not, separately or collectively, privy to the above disgraceful scheme? It lies particularly on Capt. Crofts to make a reply, or it will confirm the opinion of the town, that when he gave a challenge to Mr. Bate, he had taken care to secure his own person, by providing a substitute to fight for him.—Their answer will enable the public to bestow on them their proper epithets; and their silence deemed a testimony of their guilt.

JUSTITIA.

The same Day these Paragraphs appeared in the same.

A CORRESPONDENT informs us, that the Macaroni Club have had a meeting on the piteous situation of their brother member Mr. Fitz-Gerall, and have unanimously resolved to advise that unfortunate petit maitre to appear only in petticoats at Vauxhall for the remainder of the season, as the most likely method of escaping the chastisement due for his late unmanly and senseless conduct. The pretty creature (his snowwhite bosom decorated with the miniature resemblance of his own sweet person,) may then tread in perfect security the delightful walks of that enchanting spot, in company with his equally gallant associates, Capt. MILES, Capt. Crofts, and Mr. Lyttleton, &c.

A Correspondent thinks it would not be entirely unnecessary to insert the following short sketch, lest those who do not much resort to public places, should be ignorant of the manly personage of Mr. Fitz-Gerall. He may be easily distinguished from the rest of the noble order, by the following extraordinary piece of Macaroniship: Sweet Fitz wears two watches!—Sweet Fitz has nine seals to each!—Heavens! what could not such a sweet creature perform!

The Paragraph beneath is taken from the LONDON PACKET of the same evening.

A CORRESPONDENT says, that Capt. Crofts' letter in yesterday's Gazetteer, breathes an air of harshness which the military are but too apt to assume in the room of candour and gentleman-like civility. When an officer talks or writes to a clergyman, or, indeed any man of a civil profession, he should surely aim at a placid, inoffensive style, and forget the haughty language of a young ensign to a corporal in a garrison. To tell a clergyman, that his agreeing to fight a man with a cockade in his hat, was the first instance of his gentleman-like behaviour, is a very gross insult to the dignity of the cloth in general; the clerical gown is supposed to be of itself an infallible token of the gentility of the person who wears it. The bravado, at the conclusion of the letter, in the words, "I, Sir, am a soldier, and look equally with an eye of contempt at the mischief of a monkey, and the malice of a monk," is equally Bobadilian and paradoxical: Does Capt. Crofts mean his friend Fitz-Gerall by the monkey; since the Papers have said he dresses so like one of those animals whose mischievous qualities he seems fully to possess? It is evident that Mr. Bate acts openly, if he acts absurdly; he has neither the malice of a Monk, nor the frigid caution which characterizes that order.

To the EDITOR of the MORNING POST.

SIR,

By inserting the following letter you will very much oblige a constant reader.

To GEO.-ROBERT FITZ-GERALL, and WILLIAM CROFTS, Esqrs.

GENTLEMEN,

YOUR behaviour concerning the Vauxhall affray has not only made you more contemptible in the eyes of the public than you really were before, but has likewise shown a meanness in you, which I think impossible to be paralleled. You, Mr. Fitz-Gerall, I principally address, as having acted inconsistent both with the character of a soldier and a man of honour. Your behaviour, Sir, was more like that of an assassin than of a gentleman, to come to a person's chambers at the dead of night, armed, and along with a set of ruffians, who, no doubt, if you could have drawn Mr. Bate from his bed with feigned pretences, were to have assisted you in your black purpose.—Your bringing your own footman, in the habit of a military gentleman, and imposing him as such upon Mr. Bate, under a feigned pretence that he was affronted by Mr. Bate at Vauxhall, will that, Mr. Fitz-Gerall, (as you express in your letter) bear the uniform stamp of the gentleman, or the man of honour; and, if rightly considered by Mr. Bate himself, the real friend?—No, Sir; it will only bear the uniform stamp of a villain; and in no other light can I look on the man who, because he was afraid to vindicate the cause he had unjustly espoused, brought his own footman to undergo the chastisement he himself so justly merited. You, Mr. Crofts and Mr. Lyttleton, must have been acquainted with the whole; it must have been a concerted scheme; for, after you found Mr. Bate had spirit enough to give you the satisfaction you required, you meanly, while Mr. Bate was engaged in a talk with Mr. Fitz Gerall and his friend Captain Miles, (only fit for each other's company retired to a corner of the room, and proposed making up the affair amicably: how far different this behaviour was to the letter you sent at two o'clock in the morning, I leave the public to the reference of the Morning Post for.—Neither could I, was I Mr. Bate, have sat down tacitly, and not have called you both to account, both being privy to it, although the former affair was amicably cancelled; and how Mr. Lyttleton could have the effrontery to ask Mr. Bate home to dinner with him, being sensible, as he certainly must, that he had acted to a man of honour with such impropriety, is to me most astonishing.—If Mr. Fitz-Gerall, or any of the Gentlemen concerned, can vindicate themselves against the above charges, I shall be quite happy to find I have been mistaken in their real characters.

W—.
Piccadilly.

For the PUBLIC LEDGER.

To Mr. FITZ-GERALL.

Monday, Aug. 9.
SIR,

YOU, and your reverend adversary have appealed to the Public, as if they were interested in your disputes, or as if a quarrel between two obscure individuals (of little consequence to society, and not very respectable) was an event of importance to the whole human race.

Such vanity I can easily pardon, but when it is accompanied with an impudent and avowed insult, with a violation of that decency and respect which are due to the military, I hold it deserving of the severest censure; and since you have submitted your conduct to the tribunal of the Public, I shall examine it with great freedom, but not I assure you without candour.

As to the Priest, I shall leave him to contemplate the disgraceful consequences of an impertinent and officious interposition. The husband of the woman (who by the bye appears to have been too squeamish, considering her station in life) only was obligated to take cognizance of your rudeness, and in his absence, her two friends who accompanied her to Vauxhall, were the properest persons to chastise your insolence; but Priests, in all ages, and of every community, have been distinguished and despised for their officiousness, and the conduct of this Reverend Gentlemen affords me a sufficient reason why I should leave him to his reflections.

Your giving the rank of Captain to your livery servant, is the occasion of this letter; and though you may possibly find an excuse for every other part of your behaviour, I am fully persuaded, Sir, you will not be able to justify the liberty which you have taken with the Gentlemen of the army upon this occasion.

The military will not thank you for reducing them to a level with your domestic, and after declaring that your respect for the Church prevented your punishing your adversary, it is somewhat extraordinary that the only instance you give of your respect for religion, was the greatest indignity you could possibly offer to it! This circumstance I protest is rather unlucky. It is a certificate of your country, but neither a proof of your courage nor humanity.

How unfortunate it is, that in almost every transaction you prove yourself a native of Hibernia! Let us now, Sir, proceed to particulars.—You became engaged in a riot at Vauxhall, but not principally. The parties who were immediately concerned agreed to meet, and that meeting was at a Coffee-house. While they, attended by their seconds, were settling the dispute, your servant, with an assumed name and rank, demanded satisfaction for a pretended insult, and upon this occasion you acted in your favourite character of a Mediator, by assuring the Parson, that Capt. Miles was so passionate, that if he was admitted, he might beat him with uncommon fury. I will pass over the indignity offered to the army, and leave the Military to correct your insolence: they are very capable of doing it, and I have no doubt but they will take notice of the favour you have done them. I come now, Sir, to consider you in the character of a Gentleman: When you officiously entered the room at the Coffee-house, to inform Mr. Bate that Capt. Miles, whom he had insulted, was below, did it not occur to you, that you was guilty of a premeditated falsehood, at all times unworthy of a Gentleman, and particularly in this instance? And was it from that confusion of ideas so common to your countrymen, that you blended the character of an Officer with that of a Bravo?

Shame upon such baseness! By your letter of today, you speak of Gentlemen that are BORN to command fleets and armies—BORN to command fleets and armies! Good Heavens!

I presume, Sir, you imagine the ranks of Admiral and General are hereditary, and that the son of either must succeed to the honours of the father, though it is very possible this son might be an arrant Coward, and a consummate Blockhead! The fate of a Nation so unfortunately circumstanced would be as precarious, as if you was at the head of a Fleet or Army.—A misfortune which I trust to God will never happen to us! I have one more remark to make, viz. the impropriety of a drunken man going at one o'clock in the morning to reason with his antagonist, attended by three more. The late hour, and your different situations amount, Sir, to a presumption, that with this auxiliary aid you meant to accomplish what your servant was on trial found incapable of. To me, your intentions appear to have been hostile; and the difficulty, not to say impossibility of proving yourself a Gentleman, and a man of honour, is manifest in the confusion and perplexity which appear throughout the whole of a laborious defence, neither plausible nor free from grammatical errors. As to Capt. Crofts, was I not assured he had been in the army, I should have concluded by his letter to Mr. Bate, that he was the Editor of the Gazette, or that a Statute of Bankruptcy had lately been issued against him; and if he was in the secret, as you assert he was, of giving the title of Captain to a Bravo, I shall yet doubt the reality of his Military character.

As to Mr. Lyttleton, out of respect to his venerable and virtuous father, I shall remain silent; I will not add to the anxiety of an aged and unhappy father, already depressed with grief and sorrow for the Vices of a dissipated Son.

ALCIBIADES.

For the MORNING POST.

To Mr. FOOTE.

August 10.
SIR,

YOU surely cannot suffer such indignity to be offered with impunity to your wooden bantlings—their creation caused you pleasure—and their first symptoms of animation were employed in begging for their Papa—their legitimacy never can be questioned. Who can doubt of their belonging to the timbertoe family?—And now Mr. Foote, will you permit poor Punch, after the fatigues of his campaign, to be pulled from his dormitory, and exposed to the fury of the Church Militant? St. Patrick's cross now "mocks the air with idle state," and not Jerusalem but the Haymarket is to be the scene of holy confusion, and pious murder. I reflect that similar contests have heretofore shook the thrones of Asiatick Princes,—rely not on the strength of man!—the valour of gigantick might—or the light troops of the immortal Bayes, even though they were led on by the redoubted Capt. Crofts—Reject the Shilelah alliance, unworthy of your English Oak, and adhere to those truly Machiavalian principles of sound politicks—no money to be returned after the curtain is drawn up—nor any person upon any account to be admitted behind the scenes.—Beware, Sir! nothing, however extraordinary, is impossible to a man of Mr. Lyttleton's abilities if he gains entrance; be not surprised at finding Piety in Pattens with a p—x, and Punch with a bloody nose;—reflect on the personages who have dared to sport with your family—Mr. L—n, the disgrace of English nobility, the foetid sink of vice, purveys for the debauches of this select set—Mr. Fitz-Gerall, that essence of nothing!—that expatriated wasp—has already been depicted by Captain Doctor Bate—and poor Bubble Crofts, who lugged into the company for the sake of his 14,000 l. note, and into the quarrel for his Captainship, narrowly escaped the sire in procuring a chesnut for the amiable Mr. Lyttleton.

Such a triplet can you tell,

Where to meet on this side Hell!

Such is the respectable triumvirate, which, after proclaiming open war with decency, and setting all morality at defiance, attacks your innocent family, and resolves on the pollution and contusion, beyond the skill of the most able carpenter, of your harmless, defenceless Mr. BATE.

I have just learned, that, in case you preserve neutrality, the junto have, for want of puppets, hired blockheads, and engaged the Captains O'Byrne and O'Fagan, two gentlemen of approved courage and abilities, as succedaneums for Mr. Punch, and Bob the Butler:—And Mr. Fitz-Gerall has bespoke another pair of cestused pair of Vauxhall gloves for their armament.—

AMATEUR DE MARRIONETTES, Cocoa-Tree.

To the EDITOR of the MORNING POST.

SIR,

I AM one of that impartial Public who so heartily concur in applauding Mr. Bate for the great spirit and propriety with which he has conducted himself towards those insolent Macaronics, who dared to offend him, in the face of the world, in a manner so diametrically opposite to every sentiment of honour and honesty. It is not my present purpose to canvass this matter; the investigation it has already gone through, sufficiently evinces Mr. Bate to be really the gentleman, and the man of honour; and that his greatest misfortune has been, having to do with persons so totally devoid of every quality requisite to the constituting either of those characters.—Nothing remains to be said on this subject that can increase Mr. Bate's merit, or the infamy and disgrace of his opponents. I defy either his, or any other pen, to add to that universal odium which they have so effectually procured to themselves; and therefore I hope, and doubt not, Mr. Bate will treat the letter addressed to him in a paper of this day by Mr. Croftes, with that silent contempt so justly due to it.

" For where no honour's to be gain'd,

" 'Tis thrown away by being maintain'd."

And as to punishing these myrmidons [*] with words, it is not possible; we must of necessity conclude them long since lost to every feeling of humanity, or they never could, with that unparalleled effrontery, have made a public avowal of the scandalous and unwarrantable imposture put upon Mr. Bate, at the Turk's-head Coffee-house; for which however it seems he has an argument in store that will convince the facetious gentleman who makes his boast of it, of his error; "for boys and brutes are only taught by blows;" and I make no doubt but this doughty gentleman's back will be found, upon the application of a cane, to enjoy a more delicate sensation than his heart.

I am, Sir, Your constant reader, and A DESPISER of POLTROONS.
Richmond Coffee-House, Monday night, Aug. 9.

The Paragraphs following came forth in the MORNING CHRONICLE of Wednesday, August 11.

IT is strongly reported, that a friendship, which will probably be of duration, has commenced between a certain foppish Knight, now invested with an office of some consequence to the city of London and county of Middlesex, and the fribbling, parson-fearing Mr. Fitz-Gerall, founded on a fellow-feeling for each other. The Knight is beyond conception rejoiced that there is in the creation as abject a coward as himself; has therefore communicated to Mr. F. his readiness to accompany the Rev. Mr. Bate to Tyburn in his public character, if the said B. should be convicted of maiming and defacing, with an intention to kill, before his shrievalty expires.

Now we see the denouement of the petit piece of Vauxhall, (which had like to have turned out a deep Tragedy, if not to the great actress, to the reverend, sensible, and spirited actor under her, and to some of the spectators) we surely cannot be at a loss to determine that the Parson behaved well, as a bruiser and defender of the fair, but ill as a parson and lecturer of others; as parsons, like coblers, should not go beyond their last or text;

For, if Cobler-like, the Parson will fight or get drunk,

Worth makes the man, and want of it the fellow,

The rest is all nothing, but leather and Prunella.

It is therefore hoped this will be a lesson to all parsons to stick to their texts, and not ramble again to public places, not even with gods or goddesses either of the stage, pit, or gallery.

To the EDITOR of the MORNING POST.

To the OFFICERS of MARCHING-REGIMENTS only.

GENTLEMEN,

Your answering the following questions impartially, will oblige the Public; and, it is hoped, be of no prejudice to the respectable part of the army in which you serve.

IF any commissioned officer whatever, belonging to any of his Majesty's marching regiments had been privy to, and suffered any of his acquaintance to introduce a livery-servant under the title of gentleman and an officer, to act as a bravo.—

Would the gentlemen serving in the same corps have done duty, or ranked with him after such behaviour?

Would they not have insisted on his being tried by a Court-Martial for ungentleman-like behaviour?

Would not all of you (if you knew the man, and had been informed of his having acted as above) have shunned and despised him, and thought it a disgrace to be seen in his company?

NO SOLDIER.
Aug. 9.

For the MORNING POST.

A CARD.

SEVERAL Gentlemen of the Army present their compliments to Capt. Crofts, the Soldier, and request to know whether he really is one or not? because they have heard that he was REQUESTED to leave the army, for fear it should hurt his constitution. But, if that is as great a lie as his having any intention of fighting Mr. Bate, they now REQUEST he would resign, as they are determined never to rank in the army with him in future.

BOBADIL and Co.

To the EDITOR of the MORNING POST.

SIR,

I HAVE sent you a SKETCH as under, of a late affair, which, if well executed, would pay the artist for his trouble, and meet with a ready sale. I hope, therefore, the PENCIL will follow the traces of the PEN; that, by their joint assistance, men may be held up to public scorn, who are so highly deserving of public censure.

Your's, INVENTOR.

A CARICATURE.
TITLE.
FRIBBLE and FLASH in Alliance; OR, The MILITARY disgraced, and The CHURCH TRIUMPHANT.

‘" Cedunt Arma Togae."’

DRAMATIS PERSONAE.

- Mr. Fitz-Gerall in the character of FRIBBLE,
Label—"Challenge him, Captain, my man shall fight for us both."

- Capt. Crofts in the character of FLASH,
Label—"Sir, your character is misrepresented, I did not think you would fight."

- The Hon. Mr. Lyttleton in the character of The PRODIGAL SON,
Label—"Father, I am no more worthy to be called thy son."

- The Rev. Mr. Bate in a BROUGHTONIAN ATTITUDE,
Label—"Sound doctrine, knock-you-down Arguments."

- Footman dressed as an OFFICER,
Label—"D—n this short coat of my Master's, it is only fit for a monkey."

SCENE.—A Coffee-house.

- ATTENDANTS.—Three Irish chairmen waiting in the Street,
Labels—ALL HIRED.

For the MORNING POST. To the Rev. Mr. BATE.

SIR,

AS I see by the papers, that you mean to carry a stick for the correction of Mr. Fitz-Gerall, being naturally very humane, I would entreat you to alter the mode of your correction, and, instead of a stick, to carry a good birch rod, as I think that by much the fittest implement for Mr. Fitz-Gerall, and what I am sure his friend Mr. Lyttleton will recommend, HE being particularly acquainted with the virtue of it, as can by proved by most of the w***** on this town.

I am, Sir, An Admirer of your Spirit, LE FOUET.

To the EDITOR of the MORNING POST.

August 10, 1773. SURRY, to wit.
SIR,

IN your paper, some few days since, there appeared a letter under the signature of GEORGE-ROBERT FITZ-GERALL, (addressed to the Rev. Mr. HENRY BATE.)—We have never heard of any such person as GEORGE-ROBERT FITZ-GERALL;—if you mean GEORGE-ROBERT FITZ-GERALD, who continued but a short time with us after his retreat from his apartments in the borough of South-wark, we have heard enough of HIM.

Yours, &c. NO ASSASSIN.

For the MORNING POST.

A CARD.

MR. BATE's compliments to the EDITOR, and begs leave, through the channel of the Morning Post, to inform the Public, whose patience he is afraid he has already tired in this dispute, that the moment Mess. Tateham and Dawes come to town, (who were present at the dastardly meeting at the Turk's Head Coffee-house, in which the Captains CROFTES and FITS-GERALL cut so capital a figure), their distinct evidence will be given in this Paper, in direct opposition to those scandalously FALSE, and childish evasions made use of by the contemptible Mr. Croftes, in yesterday's Gazetteer.

Clifford's-Inn, Thursday, Aug. 10.
{inverted ⁂} The impatience of the Public has been such, that the publication of this pamphlet could not be retarded, in order to wait for the testimony of the gentlemen mentioned in Mr. BATE's card. However, as we suppose it can only be a confirmation of his own candid narrative, already universally admitted, the omission of it here, we hope, will not be judged of any very material consequence.

Notes

*
A name sufficiently applicable, considering the very seasonable visit paid Mr. B— by them.
↵

Information about this book

Title statement

The Vauxhall affray: or, the Macaronies defeated : being a compilation of all the letters, squibs, &c. on both sides of that dispute. With an introductory dedication to the Hon. Tho. Lyttleton, Esq;.

Dudley, H. Bate, Sir (Henry Bate), 1745-1824.

Publication

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University of Oxford Text Archive
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ID [ota]

http://ota.ox.ac.uk/id/5067

ID [isbn10]

1106020669

ID [isbn13]

9781106020666

ID [TCP]

K097557.000

ID [BIBNO]

CW3304640090

ID [ECSS]

0241800700

Availability

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Source

— The Vauxhall affray: or, the Macaronies defeated : being a compilation of all the letters, squibs, &c. on both sides of that dispute. With an introductory dedication to the Hon. Tho. Lyttleton, Esq;., Dudley, H. Bate, Sir (Henry Bate), 1745-1824.. 87,[1]p. ; 8⁰. London :: sold by J. Williams,. 1773.. [Anonymous. By Sir Henry Bate Dudley.] [Includes letters to and from Henry Bate, William Crofts, and George Robert Fitzgerald.] [With reference to the dispute over the honour of the actress, Elizabeth Hartley.] [Reproduction of original from the British Library.] [English Short Title Catalog, ESTCT121952.] [Electronic data. Farmington Hills, Mich. : Thomson Gale, 2003. Page image (PNG). Digitized image of the microfilm version produced in Woodbridge, CT by Research Publications, 1982-2002 (later known as Primary Source Microfilm, an imprint of the Gale Group).]

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