12 February 1787 – 18 February 1787

The instant I was left alone with Mr. Turbulent he demanded to know my “project for his happiness;” and he made his claim in a tone so determined, that I saw it would be fruitless to attempt evasion or delay. “Your captivity, then, sir,” cried I-“for such I must call your regarding your attendance to be indispensable is at an end: the equerry-coach is now wholly in your power. I have spoken myself upon the subject to the queen, as you bid—at least, braved me to do; and I have now her consent to discharging you from all necessity of travelling in our coach." He looked extremely provoked, and asked if I really meant to inform him I did not choose his company? I laughed the question off, and used a world of civil argument to persuade him I had only done him a good office: but I was fain to make the whole debate as sportive as possible, as I saw him disposed to be seriously affronted. A long debate ensued. I had been, he protested, excessively ill-natured to him. “What an impression,” cried he, “must this make upon the queen! After travelling, with apparent content, six years With that oyster Mrs. Haggerdorn—now—now that travelling is become really agreeable—in that coach—I am to be turned out of it! How must it disgrace me in her opinion!” She was too partial, I said, to “that oyster,” to look upon the matter in such a degrading light nor would she think of it at all, but as an accidental matter. I then added, that the reason that he had hitherto been destined to the female coach was, that Mrs. Schwellenberg and Mrs. Haggerdorn were always afraid of travelling by themselves; but that as I had more courage, there was no need of such slavery. “Slavery!”—repeated he, with an emphasis that almost startled me,—“Slavery is pleasure—is happiness—when directed by our wishes!” And then, with a sudden motion that made me quite jump, he cast himself at my feet, on both his knees— “Your slave,” he cried, “I am content to be! your slave I am ready to live and die!” I begged him to rise, and be a little less rhapsodic. “I have emancipated you,” I cried; “do not, therefore, throw away the freedom you have been six years sighing to obtain. You are now your own agent—a volunteer—” “If I am,” cried he, impetuously, “I dedicate myself to you!—A volunteer, ma’am, remember that! I dedicate myself to you, therefore, of my own accord, for every journey! You shall not get rid of me these twenty years.” I tried to get myself away-but he would not let me move and he began, with still increasing violence of manner, a most fervent protestation that he would not be set aside, and that he devoted himself to me entirely. And, to say the simple truth, ridiculous as all this was, I really began to grow a little frightened by his vehemence and his posture—till, at last, in the midst of an almost furious vow, in which he dedicated himself to me for ever, he relieved me, by suddenly calling upon Jupiter, Juno, Mars, and Hercules, and every god, and every goddess, to witness his oath. And then, content with his sublimity, he arose. Was it not a curious scene? and have I not a curious fellow traveller for my little journeys?