An Affair of Honour
August 14th, 2008 12:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wolfinthewoodChristian Davies was born Christian Cavenaugh in Dublin in 1667. In 1693 she enlisted as a footsoldier under the name of Christopher Welsh to search for her first husband, Richard Welsh, who had been tricked into enlisting in the army, and taken to Flanders to fight in the war between William III and Louis XIV of France. The following episode is supposed to have taken place in the winter of 1694–1695, while she was with her regiment in Gorkhum (Gorinchem), Holland. The Life and Adventures of Mrs. Christian Davies was published the year after her death. The title page claims that it was ‘Taken from her own Mouth’:
I was in Gorcum, where my grief for my husband being drowned in the hopes of finding him, I indulged in the natural gaiety of my temper, and lived very merrily. In my frolics, to kill time, I made my addresses to a burgher’s daughter, who was young and pretty. As I had formerly had a great many fine things said to myself, I was at no loss in the amorous dialect; I ran over all the tender nonsense (which I look upon as the lover’s heavy cannon, as it does the greatest execution with raw girls) employed on such attacks; I squeezed her hand, whenever I could get an opportunity; sighed often, when in her company; looked foolishly, and practised upon her all the ridiculous airs which I had often laughed at, when they were used as snares against myself. When I afterwards reflected on this unjust way of amusement, I heartily repented it; for it had an effect I did not wish; the poor girl grew really fond of me, and uneasy when I was absent; for which she never failed chiding me if it was but for half a day. When I was with her, she always regaled me in the best manner she could, and nothing was too good or too dear to treat me with, if she could compass it; but notwithstanding a declared passion for me, I found her nicely virtuous; for when I pretended to take an indecent freedom with her, she told me, that she supposed her tenderness for me was become irksome, since I took a method to change it into hatred. It was true, that she did not scruple to own she loved me as her life, because she thought her inclination justifiable, as well as lawful; but then she loved her virtue better than she did her life. If I had dishonourable designs upon her, I was not the man she loved; she was mistaken, and had found the ruffian, instead of the tender husband she hoped in me.
I own this rebuff gained my heart; and taking her in my arms, I told her, that she had heightened the power of her charms by her virtue; for which I should hold her in greater esteem, but could not love her better, as she had already engrossed all my tenderness; and, indeed, I was now fond of the girl, though mine, you know, could not go beyond a platonic love.
In the course of this amour, a serjeant of our regiment, but not of the company I belonged to, sat down before the citadel of her heart, and made regular approaches, which cost him a number of sighs, and a great deal of time; but finding I commanded there, and it was impossible to take it by a regular siege, he resolved to give a desperate assault, sword in hand. One day, therefore, while I was under arms, he came to her, and without any previous indication of his design, a fair opportunity offering, he very bravely, and like a man of honour, employed force to obtain what he could not get by assiduity. The girl defended herself stoutly, and in the scuffle she lost her cap, and her clothes were most of them torn off her back; but notwithstanding her resolute defence, he had carried the fortress by storm, had not some of the neighbours opportunely come in to her assistance, alarmed by her shrieks, and made him retreat in a very shameful manner. No sooner had she recovered, and dressed herself, than she went in search of, and found me, in my rank, standing to my arms. She told me what had passed, and begged me to revenge the insult offered her.
I was so irritated at this account, that I could hardly contain myself: I was seized with a tremor all over my body; often changed colour, and, had I not been prevented by my duty, I should that instant have sought and killed him. However, I stifled my resentment till I was dismissed by the officer, and then went in quest of my rival, whom having found, I surlily asked, how he durst attempt the honour of a woman, who was, for aught he knew, my wife; to whom he was sensible I had long made honourable love. I told him, the action in itself was so base, that it made him unworthy of the king’s cloth, which he wore, and ought to be the quarrel of every man in the regiment, as it cast a reflection on the whole corps; but, as I was principally concerned in this insult, so I was sufficient to chastise his impudence, and required immediate satisfaction for the affront. He answered me, that I was a proud, prodigal coxcomb. I leave, said I, Billingsgate language to women and cowards; I am not come to a tongue-battle, Mr. Serjeant, but to exact a reparation of honour. If you have as much courage in the face of a man, as you have in assaulting defenceless women, go with me instantly to that windmill (which I pointed to), and I will soon convince you that general T—n had too good an opinion of you, when he took his livery off your back to put on the king’s, and gave you a halberd.
The fellow had been footman to general T—n, and this reproach stinging him to the quick, he only told me, he would soon cool my courage; and we went together to the windmill, where we both drew. I was so irritated at the ill-usage of my sweetheart, and the affront put upon me in her person, that I thought of nothing but putting the villain out of the world. We both drew, and the first thrust I made, gave him a slant wound in his right pap, which had well nigh done his business. He returned this with a long gash on my right arm, (for his sword was both for cutting and thrusting, as all soldiers’ swords are; I fought with that I had purchased in Dublin,) but before he could recover his guard, I gave him a thrust in the right thigh, about half a span from the pope’s eye; the next pass, he aimed at my breast, but hit my right arm; though it was little more than a small prick of a pin, he being feeble with the loss of blood which flowed, plentifully from his wounds.
By this time some soldiers on duty having seen our first attack, a file of musketeers, under the command of a serjeant, came up, took us prisoners, disarmed both, and sent him directly to the hospital, and, as my wounds were alight, as I was the aggressor, and beside, a common soldier, conducted me to prison, for the serjeant was thought mortally wounded, and did not recover of a considerable time. I sent my sweetheart an account of what had happened, and where I then was. She acquainted her father with the villanous attempt which the serjeant had made upon her, and let him know it was her quarrel, which I had taken up, was the cause of my confinement. The good burgher made a proper representation of the affront offered his family, and found means, in four days’ time, to procure me a pardon from King William, an order to release me immediately; to return me my sword, pay my arrears, and give me my discharge from the regiment; all which were punctually performed.
The minute I was enlarged, I went to thank my deliverer for my liberty; she, on her side, as gratefully acknowledged my risking my life in revenging the insult done her. She expressed herself with great tenderness, and told me, that when she heard of my imprisonment, she heartily repented her having acquainted me with the serjeant’s villanous attempt; blamed herself for having exposed me to so great a danger, and wished she had buried the action in silence.
She proceeded, It had been prudent in me, for the sake of both; for you would not have ventured your life, and I should not have given the ill-natured part of the world any ground to censure my conduct; for what interpretation may it not make of your being warm in my cause? This consideration makes me throw off the restraint our sex lies under, and propose to you what I have expected from you, the screening my honour by our marriage.
My dear, said I, you offer me the greatest happiness this world can afford me; will you give me leave to ask you of your father?
My father! cried she; you cannot imagine a rich burgher will give his daughter to a footsoldier; for though I think you merit everything, yet my father will not view you with my eyes.
This answer I expected, and, indeed, my being very sure that her father would not consent, was the reason why I proposed speaking to him. I asked her, since she imagined her father would be averse to my happiness, what could be done?
I will, said she, run the hazard of your fortune, in case my father proves irreconcileable after our marriage.
My dear life, said I, there are two obstacles to such a proposal, which are, with me, insuperable. How could I bear to see you deserted by your father, deprived of a fortune, and stripped of all the comforts of life, exposed to hardships and insults, to which women who follow a camp are liable? And how can I, with honour, consent to bring your father’s grey hairs to the grave in sorrow, by robbing him of a daughter whom he tenderly loves, by way of return for having procured my liberty? No, my charmer, though I am no more than a common sentinel, this breast is capable of as much tenderness, and contains as much honour, as that of a general. No, I can neither be so inhuman to you, nor so unjust to your parent. But, as I shall know no satisfaction in life, if deprived of you, it will animate me to such actions, as shall either raise me to a rank that your father need not be ashamed of my alliance, or shall put an end to a life, which must be miserable without you. The sword, my dear, ennobles, and I don’t despair of a commission, as I have some reputation in the army, many friends, and am not destitute of money. I think it more becoming the character of a soldier to gain a commission by his bravery, than to purchase one with money; but my desire to call you mine, will make me, at any rate, endeavour to deserve you, and I will, if possible, purchase a pair of colours.
I have heard, said she, that love and reason are incompatible; this maxim is either false, or you are not the ardent lover you profess yourself. However, I relish your proposal of buying a commission, and if your money falls short, let me know it.
You call, said I, the ardour of my passion in question, because I love you for yourself; I wish to make you, if possible, as happy in our union as I shall be; while most other men have their own satisfaction alone in view, when they address the fair sex. I accept your offer with a grateful sense of the obligation; but hope I need not put you to the proof of your friendship, without some misfortune should deprive me of what I have by me.
Thus I got off from this amour without loss of credit.
from The Life and Adventures of Mrs. Christian Davies (1740)
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(no subject)
Date: August 14th, 2008 01:24 pm (UTC)(Also, very inspiring as I'm about to spend the Bank Holiday weekend turning pirate at Ellesmere Port. I intend to toy with the affections of as many King's officers as possible, breaking their hearts when I reveal myself as not male.)
(no subject)
Date: August 14th, 2008 05:09 pm (UTC)Sounds like a great weekend. I assume you know all about Anne Bonny and Mary Read?
(no subject)
Date: August 14th, 2008 06:07 pm (UTC)