On reaching Goodwood, it seems, the gentlemen of the party had got out, leaving the ladies to take a drive round the park in the phaeton.  One or both of the ponies must then have taken fright at something in the road, for Mrs M——­ had scarcely taken the reins when the ponies shied.  Had there been plenty of room she would readily have mastered the difficulty; but it was in a narrow road, where a gate obstructed the way.  Some men rushed to open the gate—­too late.  The three other ladies jumped out at the beginning of the accident; but Mrs M——­ still held on to the reins, seeking to control her ponies, until, finding it was impossible for the men to get the gate open in time, she too sprang forward; and at the same instant the ponies came smash on to the gate.  She had made her spring too late, and fell heavily to the ground on her head.  The heavy, old-fashioned comb of the period, with which her hair was looped up, was driven into her skull by the force of the fall.  The Duke of Richmond, a witness to the accident, ran to her assistance, lifted her up, and rested her head upon his knees.  The only words Mrs M——­ had spoken were uttered at the time:  “Good God, my children!” By direction of the Duke she was immediately conveyed to a neighbouring inn, where every assistance, medical and otherwise, that forethought or kindness could suggest was afforded her.

At six o’clock in the evening, the time at which my wife had gone into the stable and seen what we now knew had been her spirit, Mrs M——­, in her sole interval of returning consciousness, had made a violent but unsuccessful attempt to speak.  From her glance having wandered round the room, in solemn awful wistfulness, it had been conjectured she wished to see some relative or friend not then present.  I went to Goodwood in the gig with Mr Pinnock, and arrived in time to see my sister-in-law die at two o’clock in the morning.  Her only conscious moments had been those in which she laboured unsuccessfully to speak, which had occurred at six o’clock.  She wore a black silk dress.

When we came to dispose of her business, and to wind up her affairs, there was scarcely anything left for the two orphan girls.  Mrs M——­’s father, however, being well-to-do, took them to bring up.  At his death, which happened soon afterwards, his property went to his eldest son, who speedily dissipated the inheritance.  During a space of two years the children were taken as visitors by various relations in turn, and lived an unhappy life with no settled home.

For some time I had been debating with myself how to help these children, having many boys and girls of my own to provide for.  I had almost settled to take them myself, bad as trade was with me, at the time, and bring them up with my own family, when one day business called me to Brighton.  The business was so urgent that it necessitated my travelling at night.