going to battle."[141] It was the custom to go out at night accompanied by armed servants.  Addison gave an amusing description of the precautions observed when Sir Roger de Coverley was taken to the theatre.  “The Captain, who did not fail to meet me there at the appointed Hour, bid Sir Roger fear nothing, for that he had put on the same Sword which he made use of at the Battle of Steenkirk.  Sir Roger’s Servants, and among the rest my old Friend the Butler, had, I found, provided themselves with good oaken Plants to attend their Master upon this occasion.  When we had placed him in his Coach, with myself at his left hand, the Captain before him, and his Butler at the Head of his Footmen in the Rear, we convoyed him in safety to the Playhouse."[142] “One night, in the beginning of November, 1749,” wrote Walpole, “as I was returning from Holland House by moonlight, about ten at night, I was attacked by two highwaymen in Hyde Park, and the pistol of one of them going off accidentally, razed the skin under my left eye, left some marks of shot on my face, and stunned me."[143] These men were taken about a year later.  “I have been in town for a day or two, and heard no conversation but about M’Lean, a fashionable highwayman, who is just taken, and who robbed me among others. * * * His father was an Irish Dean; his brother is a Calvinist minister in great esteem at the Hague. * * * He took to the road with only one companion, Plunkett, a journeyman apothecary, my other friend. * * * M’Lean had a lodging in St. James Street, over against White’s, and another at Chelsea; Plunkett one in Jermyn St., and their faces are as well known about St. James’ as any gentleman who lives in that quarter, and who, perhaps, goes upon the road too.  M’Lean had a quarrel at Putney Bowling Green two months ago with an officer whom he challenged for disputing his rank; but the captain declined, till M’Lean should produce a certificate of his nobility, which he has just received. * * * As I conclude he will suffer, and wish him no ill, I don’t care to have his idea, and am almost single in not having been to see him.  Lord Mountford at the head of half White’s went the first day:  his aunt was crying over him:  as soon as they were withdrawn she said to him, knowing they were of White’s, ’My dear, what did the lords say to you?  Have you ever been concerned with any of them?’—­was not it admirable?  What a favorable idea people must have of White’s! and what if White’s should not deserve a much better!  But the chief personages who have been to comfort and weep over this fallen hero are Lady Caroline Petersham and Miss Asche:  I call them Polly and Lucy."[144]