He was many things in his relatively short life c— , many contradictory. He was a chameleon who constantly reinvented his identity to suit the circumstances, and haunts the sources like a fabulously interesting and often rather sordid shadow. Here, in a nutshell, is why. Charles James was probably born in give or take a year or two , possibly in Warwickshire. The only other things I know for certain are that he was the eldest son, he had a sister named Mary, and his father was a merchant possibly a wine merchant operating between Dover and Flanders.
Even his name is disputed. I find it hard to believe Charles had entered a wrong surname for himself by mistake, particularly as it took him five years to rectify the error, but whatever the explanation, he was already an identity chameleon in his mids. He was fluent in Latin and French and spent much of his life abroad; many of his early poems were inspired by experiences in Flanders and France.
His early inclinations were, indeed, towards literary pursuits. James was on the continent when the French Revolution broke out.
Vengeful Lord, Defiant Lady
He found the whole experience profoundly inspiring and made absolutely no attempt to conceal which side he was on. He chronicled his experiences and his thoughts on the revolution itself in a publication entitled Audi Alteram Partem, or an extenuation of the conduct of the French Revolutionists ; reissued , in which he defended the aims of the revolution and suggested facts had been twisted for political purposes.
Nor did James ever change his political opinions, despite his later activities and more on those shortly.
He remained convinced the French Revolution would have been a harmless domestic uprising had foreign governments not interfered. He may have had a point. Although government members clearly found him useful, his requests for preferment, promotion, or reward were generally met with a po-faced rebuff. James was, after all, the son of a merchant and a Catholic one at that ; although he was happy to swallow his political opinions when required, he was publicly connected with oppositionists and outcasts.
James named one of his sons after Sir Francis Burdett, and his library contained a number of personally-dedicated volumes written by John Horne Tooke, who had been tried for treason in and was a close friend. In April , having given up on a legal career, James joined the West Middlesex Militia as a lieutenant.
A year later he was promoted to captain. The Miriam and Ira D. Right Honble. Francis Rawdon Hastings Earl of Moira from here. In , James received permission, possibly through Moira, to dedicate his first book of poems to the Prince of Wales. In , James dedicated a pamphlet to Moira on the reform of the militia. In the same year, James published the first edition of his famous Regimental Companion with the approval of the Commander-in-Chief.
Although best known as a military theorist, James never saw active service.noroi-jusatsu.info/wp-content/2020-11-14/3568-telephone-espion-logiciel.php
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In , Moira did try to bring James still a militia captain with him to Flanders, but the request was refused by the commander-in-chief Lord Amherst on the grounds that officers of the militia could not serve abroad. Two years later, Moira managed to get James appointed to the pleasingly alliterative post of Deputy Muster-Master General on the expedition of French royalists to Quiberon in the summer of Letter addressed to Capt.
James seems, however, to have been well-regarded by the Royalist officers with whom he liaised, and he impressed Moira with his grasp of detail in his financial and logistical duties and his other, less overt, assignments. James transferred from the West Middlesex militia to the North York Militia in , but his career took a hit in when he resigned over what he thought of as the political promotion of a junior captain over his head. Due to a misunderstanding, which James was convinced was due to prejudice at the highest levels against his personal opinions, he tried to transfer into the Line and was refused.
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Subsequent schemes, including a proposal to raise and captain a mulatto regiment in Demerara, were also turned down by the War Office. With such aristocratic patronage behind him, James dabbled as an army agent — essentially an individual or firm handling the financial business and pay of a regiment, and also brokering the sale of commissions sometimes for sums far higher than the official price, with the agent pocketing the difference. Moira had lent a great deal of money to the Prince of Wales, which was roughly equivalent to throwing thousands of pounds out of a window. I can expain Prudence slapped Millie in the face and said "Silence,Millie,you do not deserve to speak after the offenses you have committed!!!
I know not how or why this occurred,but to allow someone of lower class into my home is inexcusable!!!! This house is for those who are of noble blood and of society,not lowly common folk with no status!!!! This house must remain pure and to allow filth like this into my home is a sin!!!! And a greater sin is to commit an act of unholy love by kissing such filth!!!! How dare you!!! Millie would have ran to her aid,but a sharp look from her mistress made her stay where she was.
How dare you?!?! I am a woman of upper class and of noble blood!!! I am higher than common folk such as yourself and therefore am to be treated with respect!!!
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This woman,cruel and arrogant,had not only called her filth,but had cruelly mistreated Millie,her dearest love. Treating this woman like she was lesser and making her feel unloved was one thing,but to scold her for receiving an act of kindness,calling it "an act of unholy love" was crossing a serious line. Rain hated those who mistreated kind people,she would not stand for this evil. Prudence had demanded respect,yet she would receive none from Rain,for she could not respect anyone who treated people this way.
Like a roar of thunder,Rain picked herself up and snapped at Prudence. It had been a rare occasion for someone to speak out against her in such a way and those that did suffered terrible consequences. This woman,this defiant woman,had just called her filth,right in her own house. Prudence considered herself a pure woman,one of noble blood and power. To be called filth tainted her image,making her look weak and lowly as those she considered lesser. Prudence would not be such things,not ever.
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In a fit of rage,she smacked Rain in the face and before Rain could even react,Prudence called for her other servants,who threw Rain out back into the storm. Rain landed roughly,face first,onto the cold,wet,muddy ground. Rain's body ached from the fall,feeling like stinging needles had pierced her body. As she staggered upward from the soggy,earthen muck,the sound of Millie screaming pierced her ears.
The rain washed away the mud in her eyes,revealing poor Millie being dragged away by the servants,which meant on thing; She was going to be punished. Rain rushed towards the door to rescue her beloved,determined to save her life. However,she never made it,for the door slammed in her face just before she reached it. Rain frantically pounded on the door,screaming Millie's name and demanding that she be let in.
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For an hour,Rain did this,until she could do it no more. Though she refused to admit it,Rain's attempts to get in and save her dearest love were fruitless. Trudging away in reluctant defeat,Rain bowed her head as she walked once more through the storm; Cold,alone,and wet. For miles,Rain walked,full of sadness and anger. She had finally found shelter from the storm,as well as a lover in the process,but lost it. And why? Because the cruel mistress of the house,Prudence Evans,had decided not to show her any kindness or sympathy.
True,Rain had come into her home without permission,but Rain needed a place to stay. She was wet,cold,alone,and unable to make it back home through the storm. Prudence should have let her stay the night,given food and a bed to sleep in,yet she did not. Millie had given her warmth and food,but Prudence had decided to end that because Rain was "lower class" and "filth".
Treating a weary traveler in need of help,to Rain,was a sin far worse than murder itself. Anger and want of vengeance festered within her heart as she trudged along the muddy ground. Soon,Rain grew tired from so much walking and desperate for shelter,she crawled into a hollowed oak tree. Even with the exception of a dozen leaves,Rain could not get warm. As she slowly closed her eyes,drifting into sleep,Rain began to cry. She wept for her suffering,she wept for the cruelty she'd been shown,and most of all,she wept for Millie,poor,sweet Millie.
Millie had shown Rain kindness and now,she was being punished for that kindness. Whatever punishment she was enduring,Rain could only cringe at the thought of Millie,her Millie,being in so much pain. It was uncertain to her if she would live or die,but either way,Rain wanted vengeance. She wanted vengeance against Prudence Evans,she wanted vengeance for her mistreatment,vengeance for her pain,and most of all,vengeance for what had been done to Millie. Rain soon drifted into sleep,but what she didn't know was that vengeance would soon be hers.
While Rain was sleeping,a bolt of deadly lightning came down from the sky,striking the hollow oak tree she was sleeping in. Rain was barely awake when the lightning hit the tree and by the time she realized what was happening,the lightning hit her. She let out an agonizing scream as her body was destroyed. Within moments Rain was dead,but this was not the end of her. While the body may die,the spirit lives on,and therefore,so did Rain's.
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