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diff --git a/370-0.txt b/370-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e474cf4 --- /dev/null +++ b/370-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12046 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 370 *** + + + + +The Fortunes and Misfortunes of the Famous Moll Flanders, &c. + + +Who was Born in Newgate, and during a Life of continu’d Variety for +Threescore Years, besides her Childhood, was Twelve Year a Whore, five +times a Wife (whereof once to her own Brother), Twelve Year a Thief, +Eight Year a Transported Felon in Virginia, at last grew Rich, liv’d +Honest, and dies a Penitent. Written from her own Memorandums . . . + +by Daniel Defoe + + + + +THE AUTHOR’S PREFACE + + +The world is so taken up of late with novels and romances, that it will +be hard for a private history to be taken for genuine, where the names +and other circumstances of the person are concealed, and on this +account we must be content to leave the reader to pass his own opinion +upon the ensuing sheet, and take it just as he pleases. + +The author is here supposed to be writing her own history, and in the +very beginning of her account she gives the reasons why she thinks fit +to conceal her true name, after which there is no occasion to say any +more about that. + +It is true that the original of this story is put into new words, and +the style of the famous lady we here speak of is a little altered; +particularly she is made to tell her own tale in modester words that +she told it at first, the copy which came first to hand having been +written in language more like one still in Newgate than one grown +penitent and humble, as she afterwards pretends to be. + +The pen employed in finishing her story, and making it what you now see +it to be, has had no little difficulty to put it into a dress fit to be +seen, and to make it speak language fit to be read. When a woman +debauched from her youth, nay, even being the offspring of debauchery +and vice, comes to give an account of all her vicious practices, and +even to descend to the particular occasions and circumstances by which +she ran through in threescore years, an author must be hard put to it +wrap it up so clean as not to give room, especially for vicious +readers, to turn it to his disadvantage. + +All possible care, however, has been taken to give no lewd ideas, no +immodest turns in the new dressing up of this story; no, not to the +worst parts of her expressions. To this purpose some of the vicious +part of her life, which could not be modestly told, is quite left out, +and several other parts are very much shortened. What is left ’tis +hoped will not offend the chastest reader or the modest hearer; and as +the best use is made even of the worst story, the moral ’tis hoped will +keep the reader serious, even where the story might incline him to be +otherwise. To give the history of a wicked life repented of, +necessarily requires that the wicked part should be make as wicked as +the real history of it will bear, to illustrate and give a beauty to +the penitent part, which is certainly the best and brightest, if +related with equal spirit and life. + +It is suggested there cannot be the same life, the same brightness and +beauty, in relating the penitent part as is in the criminal part. If +there is any truth in that suggestion, I must be allowed to say ’tis +because there is not the same taste and relish in the reading, and +indeed it is too true that the difference lies not in the real worth of +the subject so much as in the gust and palate of the reader. + +But as this work is chiefly recommended to those who know how to read +it, and how to make the good uses of it which the story all along +recommends to them, so it is to be hoped that such readers will be more +pleased with the moral than the fable, with the application than with +the relation, and with the end of the writer than with the life of the +person written of. + +There is in this story abundance of delightful incidents, and all of +them usefully applied. There is an agreeable turn artfully given them +in the relating, that naturally instructs the reader, either one way or +other. The first part of her lewd life with the young gentleman at +Colchester has so many happy turns given it to expose the crime, and +warn all whose circumstances are adapted to it, of the ruinous end of +such things, and the foolish, thoughtless, and abhorred conduct of both +the parties, that it abundantly atones for all the lively description +she gives of her folly and wickedness. + +The repentance of her lover at the Bath, and how brought by the just +alarm of his fit of sickness to abandon her; the just caution given +there against even the lawful intimacies of the dearest friends, and +how unable they are to preserve the most solemn resolutions of virtue +without divine assistance; these are parts which, to a just +discernment, will appear to have more real beauty in them, than all the +amorous chain of story which introduces it. + +In a word, as the whole relation is carefully garbled of all the levity +and looseness that was in it, so it all applied, and with the utmost +care, to virtuous and religious uses. None can, without being guilty of +manifest injustice, cast any reproach upon it, or upon our design in +publishing it. + +The advocates for the stage have, in all ages, made this the great +argument to persuade people that their plays are useful, and that they +ought to be allowed in the most civilised and in the most religious +government; namely, that they are applied to virtuous purposes, and +that by the most lively representations, they fail not to recommend +virtue and generous principles, and to discourage and expose all sorts +of vice and corruption of manners; and were it true that they did so, +and that they constantly adhered to that rule, as the test of their +acting on the theatre, much might be said in their favour. + +Throughout the infinite variety of this book, this fundamental is most +strictly adhered to; there is not a wicked action in any part of it, +but is first and last rendered unhappy and unfortunate; there is not a +superlative villain brought upon the stage, but either he is brought to +an unhappy end, or brought to be a penitent; there is not an ill thing +mentioned but it is condemned, even in the relation, nor a virtuous, +just thing but it carries its praise along with it. What can more +exactly answer the rule laid down, to recommend even those +representations of things which have so many other just objections +leaving against them? namely, of example, of bad company, obscene +language, and the like. + +Upon this foundation this book is recommended to the reader as a work +from every part of which something may be learned, and some just and +religious inference is drawn, by which the reader will have something +of instruction, if he pleases to make use of it. + +All the exploits of this lady of fame, in her depredations upon +mankind, stand as so many warnings to honest people to beware of them, +intimating to them by what methods innocent people are drawn in, +plundered and robbed, and by consequence how to avoid them. Her robbing +a little innocent child, dressed fine by the vanity of the mother, to +go to the dancing-school, is a good memento to such people hereafter, +as is likewise her picking the gold watch from the young lady’s side in +the Park. + +Her getting a parcel from a hare-brained wench at the coaches in St. +John Street; her booty made at the fire, and again at Harwich, all give +us excellent warnings in such cases to be more present to ourselves in +sudden surprises of every sort. + +Her application to a sober life and industrious management at last in +Virginia, with her transported spouse, is a story fruitful of +instruction to all the unfortunate creatures who are obliged to seek +their re-establishment abroad, whether by the misery of transportation +or other disaster; letting them know that diligence and application +have their due encouragement, even in the remotest parts of the world, +and that no case can be so low, so despicable, or so empty of prospect, +but that an unwearied industry will go a great way to deliver us from +it, will in time raise the meanest creature to appear again in the +world, and give him a new case for his life. + +There are a few of the serious inferences which we are led by the hand +to in this book, and these are fully sufficient to justify any man in +recommending it to the world, and much more to justify the publication +of it. + +There are two of the most beautiful parts still behind, which this +story gives some idea of, and lets us into the parts of them, but they +are either of them too long to be brought into the same volume, and +indeed are, as I may call them, whole volumes of themselves, viz.: 1. +The life of her governess, as she calls her, who had run through, it +seems, in a few years, all the eminent degrees of a gentlewoman, a +whore, and a bawd; a midwife and a midwife-keeper, as they are called; +a pawnbroker, a childtaker, a receiver of thieves, and of thieves’ +purchase, that is to say, of stolen goods; and in a word, herself a +thief, a breeder up of thieves and the like, and yet at last a +penitent. + +The second is the life of her transported husband, a highwayman, who it +seems, lived a twelve years’ life of successful villainy upon the road, +and even at last came off so well as to be a volunteer transport, not a +convict; and in whose life there is an incredible variety. + +But, as I have said, these are things too long to bring in here, so +neither can I make a promise of the coming out by themselves. + +We cannot say, indeed, that this history is carried on quite to the end +of the life of this famous Moll Flanders, as she calls herself, for +nobody can write their own life to the full end of it, unless they can +write it after they are dead. But her husband’s life, being written by +a third hand, gives a full account of them both, how long they lived +together in that country, and how they both came to England again, +after about eight years, in which time they were grown very rich, and +where she lived, it seems, to be very old, but was not so extraordinary +a penitent as she was at first; it seems only that indeed she always +spoke with abhorrence of her former life, and of every part of it. + +In her last scene, at Maryland and Virginia, many pleasant things +happened, which makes that part of her life very agreeable, but they +are not told with the same elegancy as those accounted for by herself; +so it is still to the more advantage that we break off here. + + + + + MOLL FLANDERS + + +My true name is so well known in the records or registers at Newgate, +and in the Old Bailey, and there are some things of such consequence +still depending there, relating to my particular conduct, that it is +not be expected I should set my name or the account of my family to +this work; perhaps, after my death, it may be better known; at present +it would not be proper, no not though a general pardon should be +issued, even without exceptions and reserve of persons or crimes. + +It is enough to tell you, that as some of my worst comrades, who are +out of the way of doing me harm (having gone out of the world by the +steps and the string, as I often expected to go), knew me by the name +of Moll Flanders, so you may give me leave to speak of myself under +that name till I dare own who I have been, as well as who I am. + +I have been told that in one of our neighbour nations, whether it be in +France or where else I know not, they have an order from the king, that +when any criminal is condemned, either to die, or to the galleys, or to +be transported, if they leave any children, as such are generally +unprovided for, by the poverty or forfeiture of their parents, so they +are immediately taken into the care of the Government, and put into a +hospital called the House of Orphans, where they are bred up, clothed, +fed, taught, and when fit to go out, are placed out to trades or to +services, so as to be well able to provide for themselves by an honest, +industrious behaviour. + +Had this been the custom in our country, I had not been left a poor +desolate girl without friends, without clothes, without help or helper +in the world, as was my fate; and by which I was not only exposed to +very great distresses, even before I was capable either of +understanding my case or how to amend it, but brought into a course of +life which was not only scandalous in itself, but which in its ordinary +course tended to the swift destruction both of soul and body. + +But the case was otherwise here. My mother was convicted of felony for +a certain petty theft scarce worth naming, viz. having an opportunity +of borrowing three pieces of fine holland of a certain draper in +Cheapside. The circumstances are too long to repeat, and I have heard +them related so many ways, that I can scarce be certain which is the +right account. + +However it was, this they all agree in, that my mother pleaded her +belly, and being found quick with child, she was respited for about +seven months; in which time having brought me into the world, and being +about again, she was called down, as they term it, to her former +judgment, but obtained the favour of being transported to the +plantations, and left me about half a year old; and in bad hands, you +may be sure. + +This is too near the first hours of my life for me to relate anything +of myself but by hearsay; it is enough to mention, that as I was born +in such an unhappy place, I had no parish to have recourse to for my +nourishment in my infancy; nor can I give the least account how I was +kept alive, other than that, as I have been told, some relation of my +mother’s took me away for a while as a nurse, but at whose expense, or +by whose direction, I know nothing at all of it. + +The first account that I can recollect, or could ever learn of myself, +was that I had wandered among a crew of those people they call gypsies, +or Egyptians; but I believe it was but a very little while that I had +been among them, for I had not had my skin discoloured or blackened, as +they do very young to all the children they carry about with them; nor +can I tell how I came among them, or how I got from them. + +It was at Colchester, in Essex, that those people left me; and I have a +notion in my head that I left them there (that is, that I hid myself +and would not go any farther with them), but I am not able to be +particular in that account; only this I remember, that being taken up +by some of the parish officers of Colchester, I gave an account that I +came into the town with the gypsies, but that I would not go any +farther with them, and that so they had left me, but whither they were +gone that I knew not, nor could they expect it of me; for though they +send round the country to inquire after them, it seems they could not +be found. + +I was now in a way to be provided for; for though I was not a parish +charge upon this or that part of the town by law, yet as my case came +to be known, and that I was too young to do any work, being not above +three years old, compassion moved the magistrates of the town to order +some care to be taken of me, and I became one of their own as much as +if I had been born in the place. + +In the provision they made for me, it was my good hap to be put to +nurse, as they call it, to a woman who was indeed poor but had been in +better circumstances, and who got a little livelihood by taking such as +I was supposed to be, and keeping them with all necessaries, till they +were at a certain age, in which it might be supposed they might go to +service or get their own bread. + +This woman had also had a little school, which she kept to teach +children to read and to work; and having, as I have said, lived before +that in good fashion, she bred up the children she took with a great +deal of art, as well as with a great deal of care. + +But that which was worth all the rest, she bred them up very +religiously, being herself a very sober, pious woman, very house-wifely +and clean, and very mannerly, and with good behaviour. So that in a +word, expecting a plain diet, coarse lodging, and mean clothes, we were +brought up as mannerly and as genteelly as if we had been at the +dancing-school. + +I was continued here till I was eight years old, when I was terrified +with news that the magistrates (as I think they called them) had +ordered that I should go to service. I was able to do but very little +service wherever I was to go, except it was to run of errands and be a +drudge to some cookmaid, and this they told me of often, which put me +into a great fright; for I had a thorough aversion to going to service, +as they called it (that is, to be a servant), though I was so young; +and I told my nurse, as we called her, that I believed I could get my +living without going to service, if she pleased to let me; for she had +taught me to work with my needle, and spin worsted, which is the chief +trade of that city, and I told her that if she would keep me, I would +work for her, and I would work very hard. + +I talked to her almost every day of working hard; and, in short, I did +nothing but work and cry all day, which grieved the good, kind woman so +much, that at last she began to be concerned for me, for she loved me +very well. + +One day after this, as she came into the room where all we poor +children were at work, she sat down just over against me, not in her +usual place as mistress, but as if she set herself on purpose to +observe me and see me work. I was doing something she had set me to; as +I remember, it was marking some shirts which she had taken to make, and +after a while she began to talk to me. “Thou foolish child,” says she, +“thou art always crying” (for I was crying then); “prithee, what dost +cry for?” “Because they will take me away,” says I, “and put me to +service, and I can’t work housework.” “Well, child,” says she, “but +though you can’t work housework, as you call it, you will learn it in +time, and they won’t put you to hard things at first.” “Yes, they +will,” says I, “and if I can’t do it they will beat me, and the maids +will beat me to make me do great work, and I am but a little girl and I +can’t do it”; and then I cried again, till I could not speak any more +to her. + +This moved my good motherly nurse, so that she from that time resolved +I should not go to service yet; so she bid me not cry, and she would +speak to Mr. Mayor, and I should not go to service till I was bigger. + +Well, this did not satisfy me, for to think of going to service was +such a frightful thing to me, that if she had assured me I should not +have gone till I was twenty years old, it would have been the same to +me; I should have cried, I believe, all the time, with the very +apprehension of its being to be so at last. + +When she saw that I was not pacified yet, she began to be angry with +me. “And what would you have?” says she; “don’t I tell you that you +shall not go to service till your are bigger?” “Ay,” said I, “but then +I must go at last.” “Why, what?” said she; “is the girl mad? What would +you be—a gentlewoman?” “Yes,” says I, and cried heartily till I roared +out again. + +This set the old gentlewoman a-laughing at me, as you may be sure it +would. “Well, madam, forsooth,” says she, gibing at me, “you would be a +gentlewoman; and pray how will you come to be a gentlewoman? What! will +you do it by your fingers’ end?” + +“Yes,” says I again, very innocently. + +“Why, what can you earn?” says she; “what can you get at your work?” + +“Threepence,” said I, “when I spin, and fourpence when I work plain +work.” + +“Alas! poor gentlewoman,” said she again, laughing, “what will that do +for thee?” + +“It will keep me,” says I, “if you will let me live with you.” And this +I said in such a poor petitioning tone, that it made the poor woman’s +heart yearn to me, as she told me afterwards. + +“But,” says she, “that will not keep you and buy you clothes too; and +who must buy the little gentlewoman clothes?” says she, and smiled all +the while at me. + +“I will work harder, then,” says I, “and you shall have it all.” + +“Poor child! it won’t keep you,” says she; “it will hardly keep you in +victuals.” + +“Then I will have no victuals,” says I, again very innocently; “let me +but live with you.” + +“Why, can you live without victuals?” says she. + +“Yes,” again says I, very much like a child, you may be sure, and still +I cried heartily. + +I had no policy in all this; you may easily see it was all nature; but +it was joined with so much innocence and so much passion that, in +short, it set the good motherly creature a-weeping too, and she cried +at last as fast as I did, and then took me and led me out of the +teaching-room. “Come,” says she, “you shan’t go to service; you shall +live with me”; and this pacified me for the present. + +Some time after this, she going to wait on the Mayor, and talking of +such things as belonged to her business, at last my story came up, and +my good nurse told Mr. Mayor the whole tale. He was so pleased with it, +that he would call his lady and his two daughters to hear it, and it +made mirth enough among them, you may be sure. + +However, not a week had passed over, but on a sudden comes Mrs. +Mayoress and her two daughters to the house to see my old nurse, and to +see her school and the children. When they had looked about them a +little, “Well, Mrs. ——,” says the Mayoress to my nurse, “and pray which +is the little lass that intends to be a gentlewoman?” I heard her, and +I was terribly frighted at first, though I did not know why neither; +but Mrs. Mayoress comes up to me. “Well, miss,” says she, “and what are +you at work upon?” The word miss was a language that had hardly been +heard of in our school, and I wondered what sad name it was she called +me. However, I stood up, made a curtsy, and she took my work out of my +hand, looked on it, and said it was very well; then she took up one of +the hands. “Nay,” says she, “the child may come to be a gentlewoman for +aught anybody knows; she has a gentlewoman’s hand,” says she. This +pleased me mightily, you may be sure; but Mrs. Mayoress did not stop +there, but giving me my work again, she put her hand in her pocket, +gave me a shilling, and bid me mind my work, and learn to work well, +and I might be a gentlewoman for aught she knew. + +Now all this while my good old nurse, Mrs. Mayoress, and all the rest +of them did not understand me at all, for they meant one sort of thing +by the word gentlewoman, and I meant quite another; for alas! all I +understood by being a gentlewoman was to be able to work for myself, +and get enough to keep me without that terrible bugbear going to +service, whereas they meant to live great, rich and high, and I know +not what. + +Well, after Mrs. Mayoress was gone, her two daughters came in, and they +called for the gentlewoman too, and they talked a long while to me, and +I answered them in my innocent way; but always, if they asked me +whether I resolved to be a gentlewoman, I answered Yes. At last one of +them asked me what a gentlewoman was? That puzzled me much; but, +however, I explained myself negatively, that it was one that did not go +to service, to do housework. They were pleased to be familiar with me, +and like my little prattle to them, which, it seems, was agreeable +enough to them, and they gave me money too. + +As for my money, I gave it all to my mistress-nurse, as I called her, +and told her she should have all I got for myself when I was a +gentlewoman, as well as now. By this and some other of my talk, my old +tutoress began to understand me about what I meant by being a +gentlewoman, and that I understood by it no more than to be able to get +my bread by my own work; and at last she asked me whether it was not +so. + +I told her, yes, and insisted on it, that to do so was to be a +gentlewoman; “for,” says I, “there is such a one,” naming a woman that +mended lace and washed the ladies’ laced-heads; “she,” says I, “is a +gentlewoman, and they call her madam.” + +“Poor child,” says my good old nurse, “you may soon be such a +gentlewoman as that, for she is a person of ill fame, and has had two +or three bastards.” + +I did not understand anything of that; but I answered, “I am sure they +call her madam, and she does not go to service nor do housework”; and +therefore I insisted that she was a gentlewoman, and I would be such a +gentlewoman as that. + +The ladies were told all this again, to be sure, and they made +themselves merry with it, and every now and then the young ladies, Mr. +Mayor’s daughters, would come and see me, and ask where the little +gentlewoman was, which made me not a little proud of myself. + +This held a great while, and I was often visited by these young ladies, +and sometimes they brought others with them; so that I was known by it +almost all over the town. + +I was now about ten years old, and began to look a little womanish, for +I was mighty grave and humble, very mannerly, and as I had often heard +the ladies say I was pretty, and would be a very handsome woman, so you +may be sure that hearing them say so made me not a little proud. +However, that pride had no ill effect upon me yet; only, as they often +gave me money, and I gave it to my old nurse, she, honest woman, was so +just to me as to lay it all out again for me, and gave me head-dresses, +and linen, and gloves, and ribbons, and I went very neat, and always +clean; for that I would do, and if I had rags on, I would always be +clean, or else I would dabble them in water myself; but, I say, my good +nurse, when I had money given me, very honestly laid it out for me, and +would always tell the ladies this or that was bought with their money; +and this made them oftentimes give me more, till at last I was indeed +called upon by the magistrates, as I understood it, to go out to +service; but then I was come to be so good a workwoman myself, and the +ladies were so kind to me, that it was plain I could maintain +myself—that is to say, I could earn as much for my nurse as she was +able by it to keep me—so she told them that if they would give her +leave, she would keep the gentlewoman, as she called me, to be her +assistant and teach the children, which I was very well able to do; for +I was very nimble at my work, and had a good hand with my needle, +though I was yet very young. + +But the kindness of the ladies of the town did not end here, for when +they came to understand that I was no more maintained by the public +allowance as before, they gave me money oftener than formerly; and as I +grew up they brought me work to do for them, such as linen to make, and +laces to mend, and heads to dress up, and not only paid me for doing +them, but even taught me how to do them; so that now I was a +gentlewoman indeed, as I understood that word, I not only found myself +clothes and paid my nurse for my keeping, but got money in my pocket +too beforehand. + +The ladies also gave me clothes frequently of their own or their +children’s; some stockings, some petticoats, some gowns, some one +thing, some another, and these my old woman managed for me like a mere +mother, and kept them for me, obliged me to mend them, and turn them +and twist them to the best advantage, for she was a rare housewife. + +At last one of the ladies took so much fancy to me that she would have +me home to her house, for a month, she said, to be among her daughters. + +Now, though this was exceeding kind in her, yet, as my old good woman +said to her, unless she resolved to keep me for good and all, she would +do the little gentlewoman more harm than good. “Well,” says the lady, +“that’s true; and therefore I’ll only take her home for a week, then, +that I may see how my daughters and she agree together, and how I like +her temper, and then I’ll tell you more; and in the meantime, if +anybody comes to see her as they used to do, you may only tell them you +have sent her out to my house.” + +This was prudently managed enough, and I went to the lady’s house; but +I was so pleased there with the young ladies, and they so pleased with +me, that I had enough to do to come away, and they were as unwilling to +part with me. + +However, I did come away, and lived almost a year more with my honest +old woman, and began now to be very helpful to her; for I was almost +fourteen years old, was tall of my age, and looked a little womanish; +but I had such a taste of genteel living at the lady’s house that I was +not so easy in my old quarters as I used to be, and I thought it was +fine to be a gentlewoman indeed, for I had quite other notions of a +gentlewoman now than I had before; and as I thought, I say, that it was +fine to be a gentlewoman, so I loved to be among gentlewomen, and +therefore I longed to be there again. + +About the time that I was fourteen years and a quarter old, my good +nurse, mother I rather to call her, fell sick and died. I was then in a +sad condition indeed, for as there is no great bustle in putting an end +to a poor body’s family when once they are carried to the grave, so the +poor good woman being buried, the parish children she kept were +immediately removed by the church-wardens; the school was at an end, +and the children of it had no more to do but just stay at home till +they were sent somewhere else; and as for what she left, her daughter, +a married woman with six or seven children, came and swept it all away +at once, and removing the goods, they had no more to say to me than to +jest with me, and tell me that the little gentlewoman might set up for +herself if she pleased. + +I was frighted out of my wits almost, and knew not what to do, for I +was, as it were, turned out of doors to the wide world, and that which +was still worse, the old honest woman had two-and-twenty shillings of +mine in her hand, which was all the estate the little gentlewoman had +in the world; and when I asked the daughter for it, she huffed me and +laughed at me, and told me she had nothing to do with it. + +It was true the good, poor woman had told her daughter of it, and that +it lay in such a place, that it was the child’s money, and had called +once or twice for me to give it me, but I was, unhappily, out of the +way somewhere or other, and when I came back she was past being in a +condition to speak of it. However, the daughter was so honest +afterwards as to give it me, though at first she used me cruelly about +it. + +Now was I a poor gentlewoman indeed, and I was just that very night to +be turned into the wide world; for the daughter removed all the goods, +and I had not so much as a lodging to go to, or a bit of bread to eat. +But it seems some of the neighbours, who had known my circumstances, +took so much compassion of me as to acquaint the lady in whose family I +had been a week, as I mentioned above; and immediately she sent her +maid to fetch me away, and two of her daughters came with the maid +though unsent. So I went with them, bag and baggage, and with a glad +heart, you may be sure. The fright of my condition had made such an +impression upon me, that I did not want now to be a gentlewoman, but +was very willing to be a servant, and that any kind of servant they +thought fit to have me be. + +But my new generous mistress, for she exceeded the good woman I was +with before, in everything, as well as in the matter of estate; I say, +in everything except honesty; and for that, though this was a lady most +exactly just, yet I must not forget to say on all occasions, that the +first, though poor, was as uprightly honest as it was possible for any +one to be. + +I was no sooner carried away, as I have said, by this good gentlewoman, +but the first lady, that is to say, the Mayoress that was, sent her two +daughters to take care of me; and another family which had taken notice +of me when I was the little gentlewoman, and had given me work to do, +sent for me after her, so that I was mightily made of, as we say; nay, +and they were not a little angry, especially madam the Mayoress, that +her friend had taken me away from her, as she called it; for, as she +said, I was hers by right, she having been the first that took any +notice of me. But they that had me would not part with me; and as for +me, though I should have been very well treated with any of the others, +yet I could not be better than where I was. + +Here I continued till I was between seventeen and eighteen years old, +and here I had all the advantages for my education that could be +imagined; the lady had masters home to the house to teach her daughters +to dance, and to speak French, and to write, and other to teach them +music; and I was always with them, I learned as fast as they; and +though the masters were not appointed to teach me, yet I learned by +imitation and inquiry all that they learned by instruction and +direction; so that, in short, I learned to dance and speak French as +well as any of them, and to sing much better, for I had a better voice +than any of them. I could not so readily come at playing on the +harpsichord or spinet, because I had no instrument of my own to +practice on, and could only come at theirs in the intervals when they +left it, which was uncertain; but yet I learned tolerably well too, and +the young ladies at length got two instruments, that is to say, a +harpsichord and a spinet too, and then they taught me themselves. But +as to dancing, they could hardly help my learning country-dances, +because they always wanted me to make up even number; and, on the other +hand, they were as heartily willing to learn me everything that they +had been taught themselves, as I could be to take the learning. + +By this means I had, as I have said above, all the advantages of +education that I could have had if I had been as much a gentlewoman as +they were with whom I lived; and in some things I had the advantage of +my ladies, though they were my superiors; but they were all the gifts +of nature, and which all their fortunes could not furnish. First, I was +apparently handsomer than any of them; secondly, I was better shaped; +and, thirdly, I sang better, by which I mean I had a better voice; in +all which you will, I hope, allow me to say, I do not speak my own +conceit of myself, but the opinion of all that knew the family. + +I had with all these the common vanity of my sex, viz. that being +really taken for very handsome, or, if you please, for a great beauty, +I very well knew it, and had as good an opinion of myself as anybody +else could have of me; and particularly I loved to hear anybody speak +of it, which could not but happen to me sometimes, and was a great +satisfaction to me. + +Thus far I have had a smooth story to tell of myself, and in all this +part of my life I not only had the reputation of living in a very good +family, and a family noted and respected everywhere for virtue and +sobriety, and for every valuable thing; but I had the character too of +a very sober, modest, and virtuous young woman, and such I had always +been; neither had I yet any occasion to think of anything else, or to +know what a temptation to wickedness meant. + +But that which I was too vain of was my ruin, or rather my vanity was +the cause of it. The lady in the house where I was had two sons, young +gentlemen of very promising parts and of extraordinary behaviour, and +it was my misfortune to be very well with them both, but they managed +themselves with me in a quite different manner. + +The eldest, a gay gentleman that knew the town as well as the country, +and though he had levity enough to do an ill-natured thing, yet had too +much judgment of things to pay too dear for his pleasures; he began +with the unhappy snare to all women, viz. taking notice upon all +occasions how pretty I was, as he called it, how agreeable, how +well-carriaged, and the like; and this he contrived so subtly, as if he +had known as well how to catch a woman in his net as a partridge when +he went a-setting; for he would contrive to be talking this to his +sisters when, though I was not by, yet when he knew I was not far off +but that I should be sure to hear him. His sisters would return softly +to him, “Hush, brother, she will hear you; she is but in the next +room.” Then he would put it off and talk softlier, as if he had not +known it, and begin to acknowledge he was wrong; and then, as if he had +forgot himself, he would speak aloud again, and I, that was so well +pleased to hear it, was sure to listen for it upon all occasions. + +After he had thus baited his hook, and found easily enough the method +how to lay it in my way, he played an opener game; and one day, going +by his sister’s chamber when I was there, doing something about +dressing her, he comes in with an air of gaiety. “Oh, Mrs. Betty,” said +he to me, “how do you do, Mrs. Betty? Don’t your cheeks burn, Mrs. +Betty?” I made a curtsy and blushed, but said nothing. “What makes you +talk so, brother?” says the lady. “Why,” says he, “we have been talking +of her below-stairs this half-hour.” “Well,” says his sister, “you can +say no harm of her, that I am sure, so ’tis no matter what you have +been talking about.” “Nay,” says he, “’tis so far from talking harm of +her, that we have been talking a great deal of good, and a great many +fine things have been said of Mrs. Betty, I assure you; and +particularly, that she is the handsomest young woman in Colchester; +and, in short, they begin to toast her health in the town.” + +“I wonder at you, brother,” says the sister. “Betty wants but one +thing, but she had as good want everything, for the market is against +our sex just now; and if a young woman have beauty, birth, breeding, +wit, sense, manners, modesty, and all these to an extreme, yet if she +have not money, she’s nobody, she had as good want them all for nothing +but money now recommends a woman; the men play the game all into their +own hands.” + +Her younger brother, who was by, cried, “Hold, sister, you run too +fast; I am an exception to your rule. I assure you, if I find a woman +so accomplished as you talk of, I say, I assure you, I would not +trouble myself about the money.” + +“Oh,” says the sister, “but you will take care not to fancy one, then, +without the money.” + +“You don’t know that neither,” says the brother. + +“But why, sister,” says the elder brother, “why do you exclaim so at +the men for aiming so much at the fortune? You are none of them that +want a fortune, whatever else you want.” + +“I understand you, brother,” replies the lady very smartly; “you +suppose I have the money, and want the beauty; but as times go now, the +first will do without the last, so I have the better of my neighbours.” + +“Well,” says the younger brother, “but your neighbours, as you call +them, may be even with you, for beauty will steal a husband sometimes +in spite of money, and when the maid chances to be handsomer than the +mistress, she oftentimes makes as good a market, and rides in a coach +before her.” + +I thought it was time for me to withdraw and leave them, and I did so, +but not so far but that I heard all their discourse, in which I heard +abundance of the fine things said of myself, which served to prompt my +vanity, but, as I soon found, was not the way to increase my interest +in the family, for the sister and the younger brother fell grievously +out about it; and as he said some very disobliging things to her upon +my account, so I could easily see that she resented them by her future +conduct to me, which indeed was very unjust to me, for I had never had +the least thought of what she suspected as to her younger brother; +indeed, the elder brother, in his distant, remote way, had said a great +many things as in jest, which I had the folly to believe were in +earnest, or to flatter myself with the hopes of what I ought to have +supposed he never intended, and perhaps never thought of. + +It happened one day that he came running upstairs, towards the room +where his sisters used to sit and work, as he often used to do; and +calling to them before he came in, as was his way too, I, being there +alone, stepped to the door, and said, “Sir, the ladies are not here, +they are walked down the garden.” As I stepped forward to say this, +towards the door, he was just got to the door, and clasping me in his +arms, as if it had been by chance, “Oh, Mrs. Betty,” says he, “are you +here? That’s better still; I want to speak with you more than I do with +them”; and then, having me in his arms, he kissed me three or four +times. + +I struggled to get away, and yet did it but faintly neither, and he +held me fast, and still kissed me, till he was almost out of breath, +and then, sitting down, says, “Dear Betty, I am in love with you.” + +His words, I must confess, fired my blood; all my spirits flew about my +heart and put me into disorder enough, which he might easily have seen +in my face. He repeated it afterwards several times, that he was in +love with me, and my heart spoke as plain as a voice, that I liked it; +nay, whenever he said, “I am in love with you,” my blushes plainly +replied, “Would you were, sir.” + +However, nothing else passed at that time; it was but a surprise, and +when he was gone I soon recovered myself again. He had stayed longer +with me, but he happened to look out at the window and see his sisters +coming up the garden, so he took his leave, kissed me again, told me he +was very serious, and I should hear more of him very quickly, and away +he went, leaving me infinitely pleased, though surprised; and had there +not been one misfortune in it, I had been in the right, but the mistake +lay here, that Mrs. Betty was in earnest and the gentleman was not. + +From this time my head ran upon strange things, and I may truly say I +was not myself; to have such a gentleman talk to me of being in love +with me, and of my being such a charming creature, as he told me I was; +these were things I knew not how to bear, my vanity was elevated to the +last degree. It is true I had my head full of pride, but, knowing +nothing of the wickedness of the times, I had not one thought of my own +safety or of my virtue about me; and had my young master offered it at +first sight, he might have taken any liberty he thought fit with me; +but he did not see his advantage, which was my happiness for that time. + +After this attack it was not long but he found an opportunity to catch +me again, and almost in the same posture; indeed, it had more of design +in it on his part, though not on my part. It was thus: the young ladies +were all gone a-visiting with their mother; his brother was out of +town; and as for his father, he had been in London for a week before. +He had so well watched me that he knew where I was, though I did not so +much as know that he was in the house; and he briskly comes up the +stairs and, seeing me at work, comes into the room to me directly, and +began just as he did before, with taking me in his arms, and kissing me +for almost a quarter of an hour together. + +It was his younger sister’s chamber that I was in, and as there was +nobody in the house but the maids below-stairs, he was, it may be, the +ruder; in short, he began to be in earnest with me indeed. Perhaps he +found me a little too easy, for God knows I made no resistance to him +while he only held me in his arms and kissed me; indeed, I was too well +pleased with it to resist him much. + +However, as it were, tired with that kind of work, we sat down, and +there he talked with me a great while; he said he was charmed with me, +and that he could not rest night or day till he had told me how he was +in love with me, and, if I was able to love him again, and would make +him happy, I should be the saving of his life, and many such fine +things. I said little to him again, but easily discovered that I was a +fool, and that I did not in the least perceive what he meant. + +Then he walked about the room, and taking me by the hand, I walked with +him; and by and by, taking his advantage, he threw me down upon the +bed, and kissed me there most violently; but, to give him his due, +offered no manner of rudeness to me, only kissed a great while. After +this he thought he had heard somebody come upstairs, so got off from +the bed, lifted me up, professing a great deal of love for me, but told +me it was all an honest affection, and that he meant no ill to me; and +with that he put five guineas into my hand, and went away downstairs. + +I was more confounded with the money than I was before with the love, +and began to be so elevated that I scarce knew the ground I stood on. I +am the more particular in this part, that if my story comes to be read +by any innocent young body, they may learn from it to guard themselves +against the mischiefs which attend an early knowledge of their own +beauty. If a young woman once thinks herself handsome, she never doubts +the truth of any man that tells her he is in love with her; for if she +believes herself charming enough to captivate him, ’tis natural to +expect the effects of it. + +This young gentleman had fired his inclination as much as he had my +vanity, and, as if he had found that he had an opportunity and was +sorry he did not take hold of it, he comes up again in half an hour or +thereabouts, and falls to work with me again as before, only with a +little less introduction. + +And first, when he entered the room, he turned about and shut the door. +“Mrs. Betty,” said he, “I fancied before somebody was coming upstairs, +but it was not so; however,” adds he, “if they find me in the room with +you, they shan’t catch me a-kissing of you.” I told him I did not know +who should be coming upstairs, for I believed there was nobody in the +house but the cook and the other maid, and they never came up those +stairs. “Well, my dear,” says he, “’tis good to be sure, however”; and +so he sits down, and we began to talk. And now, though I was still all +on fire with his first visit, and said little, he did as it were put +words in my mouth, telling me how passionately he loved me, and that +though he could not mention such a thing till he came to this estate, +yet he was resolved to make me happy then, and himself too; that is to +say, to marry me, and abundance of such fine things, which I, poor +fool, did not understand the drift of, but acted as if there was no +such thing as any kind of love but that which tended to matrimony; and +if he had spoke of that, I had no room, as well as no power, to have +said no; but we were not come that length yet. + +We had not sat long, but he got up, and, stopping my very breath with +kisses, threw me upon the bed again; but then being both well warmed, +he went farther with me than decency permits me to mention, nor had it +been in my power to have denied him at that moment, had he offered much +more than he did. + +However, though he took these freedoms with me, it did not go to that +which they call the last favour, which, to do him justice, he did not +attempt; and he made that self-denial of his a plea for all his +freedoms with me upon other occasions after this. When this was over, +he stayed but a little while, but he put almost a handful of gold in my +hand, and left me, making a thousand protestations of his passion for +me, and of his loving me above all the women in the world. + +It will not be strange if I now began to think, but alas! it was but +with very little solid reflection. I had a most unbounded stock of +vanity and pride, and but a very little stock of virtue. I did indeed +case sometimes with myself what young master aimed at, but thought of +nothing but the fine words and the gold; whether he intended to marry +me, or not to marry me, seemed a matter of no great consequence to me; +nor did my thoughts so much as suggest to me the necessity of making +any capitulation for myself, till he came to make a kind of formal +proposal to me, as you shall hear presently. + +Thus I gave up myself to a readiness of being ruined without the least +concern and am a fair memento to all young women whose vanity prevails +over their virtue. Nothing was ever so stupid on both sides. Had I +acted as became me, and resisted as virtue and honour require, this +gentleman had either desisted his attacks, finding no room to expect +the accomplishment of his design, or had made fair and honourable +proposals of marriage; in which case, whoever had blamed him, nobody +could have blamed me. In short, if he had known me, and how easy the +trifle he aimed at was to be had, he would have troubled his head no +farther, but have given me four or five guineas, and have lain with me +the next time he had come at me. And if I had known his thoughts, and +how hard he thought I would be to be gained, I might have made my own +terms with him; and if I had not capitulated for an immediate marriage, +I might for a maintenance till marriage, and might have had what I +would; for he was already rich to excess, besides what he had in +expectation; but I seemed wholly to have abandoned all such thoughts as +these, and was taken up only with the pride of my beauty, and of being +beloved by such a gentleman. As for the gold, I spent whole hours in +looking upon it; I told the guineas over and over a thousand times a +day. Never a poor vain creature was so wrapt up with every part of the +story as I was, not considering what was before me, and how near my +ruin was at the door; indeed, I think I rather wished for that ruin +than studied to avoid it. + +In the meantime, however, I was cunning enough not to give the least +room to any in the family to suspect me, or to imagine that I had the +least correspondence with this young gentleman. I scarce ever looked +towards him in public, or answered if he spoke to me when anybody was +near us; but for all that, we had every now and then a little +encounter, where we had room for a word or two, and now and then a +kiss, but no fair opportunity for the mischief intended; and especially +considering that he made more circumlocution than, if he had known my +thoughts, he had occasion for; and the work appearing difficult to him, +he really made it so. + +But as the devil is an unwearied tempter, so he never fails to find +opportunity for that wickedness he invites to. It was one evening that +I was in the garden, with his two younger sisters and himself, and all +very innocently merry, when he found means to convey a note into my +hand, by which he directed me to understand that he would to-morrow +desire me publicly to go of an errand for him into the town, and that I +should see him somewhere by the way. + +Accordingly, after dinner, he very gravely says to me, his sisters +being all by, “Mrs. Betty, I must ask a favour of you.” “What’s that?” +says his second sister. “Nay, sister,” says he very gravely, “if you +can’t spare Mrs. Betty to-day, any other time will do.” Yes, they said, +they could spare her well enough, and the sister begged pardon for +asking, which they did but of mere course, without any meaning. “Well, +but, brother,” says the eldest sister, “you must tell Mrs. Betty what +it is; if it be any private business that we must not hear, you may +call her out. There she is.” “Why, sister,” says the gentleman very +gravely, “what do you mean? I only desire her to go into the High +Street” (and then he pulls out a turnover), “to such a shop”; and then +he tells them a long story of two fine neckcloths he had bid money for, +and he wanted to have me go and make an errand to buy a neck to the +turnover that he showed, to see if they would take my money for the +neckcloths; to bid a shilling more, and haggle with them; and then he +made more errands, and so continued to have such petty business to do, +that I should be sure to stay a good while. + +When he had given me my errands, he told them a long story of a visit +he was going to make to a family they all knew, and where was to be +such-and-such gentlemen, and how merry they were to be, and very +formally asks his sisters to go with him, and they as formally excused +themselves, because of company that they had notice was to come and +visit them that afternoon; which, by the way, he had contrived on +purpose. + +He had scarce done speaking to them, and giving me my errand, but his +man came up to tell him that Sir W—— H——’s coach stopped at the door; +so he runs down, and comes up again immediately. “Alas!” says he aloud, +“there’s all my mirth spoiled at once; sir W—— has sent his coach for +me, and desires to speak with me upon some earnest business.” It seems +this Sir W—— was a gentleman who lived about three miles out of town, +to whom he had spoken on purpose the day before, to lend him his +chariot for a particular occasion, and had appointed it to call for +him, as it did, about three o’clock. + +Immediately he calls for his best wig, hat, and sword, and ordering his +man to go to the other place to make his excuse— that was to say, he +made an excuse to send his man away—he prepares to go into the coach. +As he was going, he stopped a while, and speaks mighty earnestly to me +about his business, and finds an opportunity to say very softly to me, +“Come away, my dear, as soon as ever you can.” I said nothing, but made +a curtsy, as if I had done so to what he said in public. In about a +quarter of an hour I went out too; I had no dress other than before, +except that I had a hood, a mask, a fan, and a pair of gloves in my +pocket; so that there was not the least suspicion in the house. He +waited for me in the coach in a back-lane, which he knew I must pass +by, and had directed the coachman whither to go, which was to a certain +place, called Mile End, where lived a confidant of his, where we went +in, and where was all the convenience in the world to be as wicked as +we pleased. + +When we were together he began to talk very gravely to me, and to tell +me he did not bring me there to betray me; that his passion for me +would not suffer him to abuse me; that he resolved to marry me as soon +as he came to his estate; that in the meantime, if I would grant his +request, he would maintain me very honourably; and made me a thousand +protestations of his sincerity and of his affection to me; and that he +would never abandon me, and as I may say, made a thousand more +preambles than he need to have done. + +However, as he pressed me to speak, I told him I had no reason to +question the sincerity of his love to me after so many protestations, +but—and there I stopped, as if I left him to guess the rest. “But what, +my dear?” says he. “I guess what you mean: what if you should be with +child? Is not that it? Why, then,” says he, “I’ll take care of you and +provide for you, and the child too; and that you may see I am not in +jest,” says he, “here’s an earnest for you,” and with that he pulls out +a silk purse, with an hundred guineas in it, and gave it me. “And I’ll +give you such another,” says he, “every year till I marry you.” + +My colour came and went, at the sight of the purse and with the fire of +his proposal together, so that I could not say a word, and he easily +perceived it; so putting the purse into my bosom, I made no more +resistance to him, but let him do just what he pleased, and as often as +he pleased; and thus I finished my own destruction at once, for from +this day, being forsaken of my virtue and my modesty, I had nothing of +value left to recommend me, either to God’s blessing or man’s +assistance. + +But things did not end here. I went back to the town, did the business +he publicly directed me to, and was at home before anybody thought me +long. As for my gentleman, he stayed out, as he told me he would, till +late at night, and there was not the least suspicion in the family +either on his account or on mine. + +We had, after this, frequent opportunities to repeat our crime—chiefly +by his contrivance—especially at home, when his mother and the young +ladies went abroad a-visiting, which he watched so narrowly as never to +miss; knowing always beforehand when they went out, and then failed not +to catch me all alone, and securely enough; so that we took our fill of +our wicked pleasure for near half a year; and yet, which was the most +to my satisfaction, I was not with child. + +But before this half-year was expired, his younger brother, of whom I +have made some mention in the beginning of the story, falls to work +with me; and he, finding me alone in the garden one evening, begins a +story of the same kind to me, made good honest professions of being in +love with me, and in short, proposes fairly and honourably to marry me, +and that before he made any other offer to me at all. + +I was now confounded, and driven to such an extremity as the like was +never known; at least not to me. I resisted the proposal with +obstinacy; and now I began to arm myself with arguments. I laid before +him the inequality of the match; the treatment I should meet with in +the family; the ingratitude it would be to his good father and mother, +who had taken me into their house upon such generous principles, and +when I was in such a low condition; and, in short, I said everything to +dissuade him from his design that I could imagine, except telling him +the truth, which would indeed have put an end to it all, but that I +durst not think of mentioning. + +But here happened a circumstance that I did not expect indeed, which +put me to my shifts; for this young gentleman, as he was plain and +honest, so he pretended to nothing with me but what was so too; and, +knowing his own innocence, he was not so careful to make his having a +kindness for Mrs. Betty a secret in the house, as his brother was. And +though he did not let them know that he had talked to me about it, yet +he said enough to let his sisters perceive he loved me, and his mother +saw it too, which, though they took no notice of it to me, yet they did +to him, an immediately I found their carriage to me altered, more than +ever before. + +I saw the cloud, though I did not foresee the storm. It was easy, I +say, to see that their carriage to me was altered, and that it grew +worse and worse every day; till at last I got information among the +servants that I should, in a very little while, be desired to remove. + +I was not alarmed at the news, having a full satisfaction that I should +be otherwise provided for; and especially considering that I had reason +every day to expect I should be with child, and that then I should be +obliged to remove without any pretences for it. + +After some time the younger gentleman took an opportunity to tell me +that the kindness he had for me had got vent in the family. He did not +charge me with it, he said, for he know well enough which way it came +out. He told me his plain way of talking had been the occasion of it, +for that he did not make his respect for me so much a secret as he +might have done, and the reason was, that he was at a point, that if I +would consent to have him, he would tell them all openly that he loved +me, and that he intended to marry me; that it was true his father and +mother might resent it, and be unkind, but that he was now in a way to +live, being bred to the law, and he did not fear maintaining me +agreeable to what I should expect; and that, in short, as he believed I +would not be ashamed of him, so he was resolved not to be ashamed of +me, and that he scorned to be afraid to own me now, whom he resolved to +own after I was his wife, and therefore I had nothing to do but to give +him my hand, and he would answer for all the rest. + +I was now in a dreadful condition indeed, and now I repented heartily +my easiness with the eldest brother; not from any reflection of +conscience, but from a view of the happiness I might have enjoyed, and +had now made impossible; for though I had no great scruples of +conscience, as I have said, to struggle with, yet I could not think of +being a whore to one brother and a wife to the other. But then it came +into my thoughts that the first brother had promised to made me his +wife when he came to his estate; but I presently remembered what I had +often thought of, that he had never spoken a word of having me for a +wife after he had conquered me for a mistress; and indeed, till now, +though I said I thought of it often, yet it gave me no disturbance at +all, for as he did not seem in the least to lessen his affection to me, +so neither did he lessen his bounty, though he had the discretion +himself to desire me not to lay out a penny of what he gave me in +clothes, or to make the least show extraordinary, because it would +necessarily give jealousy in the family, since everybody know I could +come at such things no manner of ordinary way, but by some private +friendship, which they would presently have suspected. + +But I was now in a great strait, and knew not what to do. The main +difficulty was this: the younger brother not only laid close siege to +me, but suffered it to be seen. He would come into his sister’s room, +and his mother’s room, and sit down, and talk a thousand kind things of +me, and to me, even before their faces, and when they were all there. +This grew so public that the whole house talked of it, and his mother +reproved him for it, and their carriage to me appeared quite altered. +In short, his mother had let fall some speeches, as if she intended to +put me out of the family; that is, in English, to turn me out of doors. +Now I was sure this could not be a secret to his brother, only that he +might not think, as indeed nobody else yet did, that the youngest +brother had made any proposal to me about it; but as I easily could see +that it would go farther, so I saw likewise there was an absolute +necessity to speak of it to him, or that he would speak of it to me, +and which to do first I knew not; that is, whether I should break it to +him or let it alone till he should break it to me. + +Upon serious consideration, for indeed now I began to consider things +very seriously, and never till now; I say, upon serious consideration, +I resolved to tell him of it first; and it was not long before I had an +opportunity, for the very next day his brother went to London upon some +business, and the family being out a-visiting, just as it had happened +before, and as indeed was often the case, he came according to his +custom, to spend an hour or two with Mrs. Betty. + +When he came and had sat down a while, he easily perceived there was an +alteration in my countenance, that I was not so free and pleasant with +him as I used to be, and particularly, that I had been a-crying; he was +not long before he took notice of it, and asked me in very kind terms +what was the matter, and if anything troubled me. I would have put it +off if I could, but it was not to be concealed; so after suffering many +importunities to draw that out of me which I longed as much as possible +to disclose, I told him that it was true something did trouble me, and +something of such a nature that I could not conceal from him, and yet +that I could not tell how to tell him of it neither; that it was a +thing that not only surprised me, but greatly perplexed me, and that I +knew not what course to take, unless he would direct me. He told me +with great tenderness, that let it be what it would, I should not let +it trouble me, for he would protect me from all the world. + +I then began at a distance, and told him I was afraid the ladies had +got some secret information of our correspondence; for that it was easy +to see that their conduct was very much changed towards me for a great +while, and that now it was come to that pass that they frequently found +fault with me, and sometimes fell quite out with me, though I never +gave them the least occasion; that whereas I used always to lie with +the eldest sister, I was lately put to lie by myself, or with one of +the maids; and that I had overheard them several times talking very +unkindly about me; but that which confirmed it all was, that one of the +servants had told me that she had heard I was to be turned out, and +that it was not safe for the family that I should be any longer in the +house. + +He smiled when he heard all this, and I asked him how he could make so +light of it, when he must needs know that if there was any discovery I +was undone for ever, and that even it would hurt him, though not ruin +him as it would me. I upbraided him, that he was like all the rest of +the sex, that, when they had the character and honour of a woman at +their mercy, oftentimes made it their jest, and at least looked upon it +as a trifle, and counted the ruin of those they had had their will of +as a thing of no value. + +He saw me warm and serious, and he changed his style immediately; he +told me he was sorry I should have such a thought of him; that he had +never given me the least occasion for it, but had been as tender of my +reputation as he could be of his own; that he was sure our +correspondence had been managed with so much address, that not one +creature in the family had so much as a suspicion of it; that if he +smiled when I told him my thoughts, it was at the assurance he lately +received, that our understanding one another was not so much as known +or guessed at; and that when he had told me how much reason he had to +be easy, I should smile as he did, for he was very certain it would +give me a full satisfaction. + +“This is a mystery I cannot understand,” says I, “or how it should be +to my satisfaction that I am to be turned out of doors; for if our +correspondence is not discovered, I know not what else I have done to +change the countenances of the whole family to me, or to have them +treat me as they do now, who formerly used me with so much tenderness, +as if I had been one of their own children.” + +“Why, look you, child,” says he, “that they are uneasy about you, that +is true; but that they have the least suspicion of the case as it is, +and as it respects you and I, is so far from being true, that they +suspect my brother Robin; and, in short, they are fully persuaded he +makes love to you; nay, the fool has put it into their heads too +himself, for he is continually bantering them about it, and making a +jest of himself. I confess I think he is wrong to do so, because he +cannot but see it vexes them, and makes them unkind to you; but ’tis a +satisfaction to me, because of the assurance it gives me, that they do +not suspect me in the least, and I hope this will be to your +satisfaction too.” + +“So it is,” says I, “one way; but this does not reach my case at all, +nor is this the chief thing that troubles me, though I have been +concerned about that too.” “What is it, then?” says he. With which I +fell to tears, and could say nothing to him at all. He strove to pacify +me all he could, but began at last to be very pressing upon me to tell +what it was. At last I answered that I thought I ought to tell him too, +and that he had some right to know it; besides, that I wanted his +direction in the case, for I was in such perplexity that I knew not +what course to take, and then I related the whole affair to him. I told +him how imprudently his brother had managed himself, in making himself +so public; for that if he had kept it a secret, as such a thing ought +to have been, I could but have denied him positively, without giving +any reason for it, and he would in time have ceased his solicitations; +but that he had the vanity, first, to depend upon it that I would not +deny him, and then had taken the freedom to tell his resolution of +having me to the whole house. + +I told him how far I had resisted him, and told him how sincere and +honourable his offers were. “But,” says I, “my case will be doubly +hard; for as they carry it ill to me now, because he desires to have +me, they’ll carry it worse when they shall find I have denied him; and +they will presently say, there’s something else in it, and then out it +comes that I am married already to somebody else, or that I would never +refuse a match so much above me as this was.” + +This discourse surprised him indeed very much. He told me that it was a +critical point indeed for me to manage, and he did not see which way I +should get out of it; but he would consider it, and let me know next +time we met, what resolution he was come to about it; and in the +meantime desired I would not give my consent to his brother, nor yet +give him a flat denial, but that I would hold him in suspense a while. + +I seemed to start at his saying I should not give him my consent. I +told him he knew very well I had no consent to give; that he had +engaged himself to marry me, and that my consent was the same time +engaged to him; that he had all along told me I was his wife, and I +looked upon myself as effectually so as if the ceremony had passed; and +that it was from his own mouth that I did so, he having all along +persuaded me to call myself his wife. + +“Well, my dear,” says he, “don’t be concerned at that now; if I am not +your husband, I’ll be as good as a husband to you; and do not let those +things trouble you now, but let me look a little farther into this +affair, and I shall be able to say more next time we meet.” + +He pacified me as well as he could with this, but I found he was very +thoughtful, and that though he was very kind to me and kissed me a +thousand times, and more I believe, and gave me money too, yet he +offered no more all the while we were together, which was above two +hours, and which I much wondered at indeed at that time, considering +how it used to be, and what opportunity we had. + +His brother did not come from London for five or six days, and it was +two days more before he got an opportunity to talk with him; but then +getting him by himself he began to talk very close to him about it, and +the same evening got an opportunity (for we had a long conference +together) to repeat all their discourse to me, which, as near as I can +remember, was to the purpose following. He told him he heard strange +news of him since he went, viz. that he made love to Mrs. Betty. “Well,” +says his brother a little angrily, “and so I do. And what then? What +has anybody to do with that?” “Nay,” says his brother, “don’t be angry, +Robin; I don’t pretend to have anything to do with it; nor do I pretend +to be angry with you about it. But I find they do concern themselves +about it, and that they have used the poor girl ill about it, which I +should take as done to myself.” “Whom do you mean by _they_?” says +Robin. “I mean my mother and the girls,” says the elder brother. “But +hark ye,” says his brother, “are you in earnest? Do you really love +this girl? You may be free with me, you know.” “Why, then,” says Robin, +“I will be free with you; I do love her above all the women in the +world, and I will have her, let them say and do what they will. I +believe the girl will not deny me.” + +It struck me to the heart when he told me this, for though it was most +rational to think I would not deny him, yet I knew in my own conscience +I must deny him, and I saw my ruin in my being obliged to do so; but I +knew it was my business to talk otherwise then, so I interrupted him in +his story thus. + +“Ay!” said I, “does he think I cannot deny him? But he shall find I can +deny him, for all that.” + +“Well, my dear,” says he, “but let me give you the whole story as it +went on between us, and then say what you will.” + +Then he went on and told me that he replied thus: “But, brother, you +know she has nothing, and you may have several ladies with good +fortunes.” + +“’Tis no matter for that,” said Robin; “I love the girl, and I will +never please my pocket in marrying, and not please my fancy.” “And so, +my dear,” adds he, “there is no opposing him.” + +“Yes, yes,” says I, “you shall see I can oppose him; I have learnt to +say No, now though I had not learnt it before; if the best lord in the +land offered me marriage now, I could very cheerfully say No to him.” + +“Well, but, my dear,” says he, “what can you say to him? You know, as +you said when we talked of it before, he will ask you many questions +about it, and all the house will wonder what the meaning of it should +be.” + +“Why,” says I, smiling, “I can stop all their mouths at one clap by +telling him, and them too, that I am married already to his elder +brother.” + +He smiled a little too at the word, but I could see it startled him, +and he could not hide the disorder it put him into. However, he +returned, “Why, though that may be true in some sense, yet I suppose +you are but in jest when you talk of giving such an answer as that; it +may not be convenient on many accounts.” + +“No, no,” says I pleasantly, “I am not so fond of letting the secret +come out without your consent.” + +“But what, then, can you say to him, or to them,” says he, “when they +find you positive against a match which would be apparently so much to +your advantage?” + +“Why,” says I, “should I be at a loss? First of all, I am not obliged +to give me any reason at all; on the other hand, I may tell them I am +married already, and stop there, and that will be a full stop too to +him, for he can have no reason to ask one question after it.” + +“Ay,” says he; “but the whole house will tease you about that, even to +father and mother, and if you deny them positively, they will be +disobliged at you, and suspicious besides.” + +“Why,” says I, “what can I do? What would you have me do? I was in +straight enough before, and as I told you, I was in perplexity before, +and acquainted you with the circumstances, that I might have your +advice.” + +“My dear,” says he, “I have been considering very much upon it, you may +be sure, and though it is a piece of advice that has a great many +mortifications in it to me, and may at first seem strange to you, yet, +all things considered, I see no better way for you than to let him go +on; and if you find him hearty and in earnest, marry him.” + +I gave him a look full of horror at those words, and, turning pale as +death, was at the very point of sinking down out of the chair I sat in; +when, giving a start, “My dear,” says he aloud, “what’s the matter with +you? Where are you a-going?” and a great many such things; and with +jogging and called to me, fetched me a little to myself, though it was +a good while before I fully recovered my senses, and was not able to +speak for several minutes more. + +When I was fully recovered he began again. “My dear,” says he, “what +made you so surprised at what I said? I would have you consider +seriously of it? You may see plainly how the family stand in this case, +and they would be stark mad if it was my case, as it is my brother’s; +and for aught I see, it would be my ruin and yours too.” + +“Ay!” says I, still speaking angrily; “are all your protestations and +vows to be shaken by the dislike of the family? Did I not always object +that to you, and you made light thing of it, as what you were above, +and would value; and is it come to this now?” said I. “Is this your +faith and honour, your love, and the solidity of your promises?” + +He continued perfectly calm, notwithstanding all my reproaches, and I +was not sparing of them at all; but he replied at last, “My dear, I +have not broken one promise with you yet; I did tell you I would marry +you when I was come to my estate; but you see my father is a hale, +healthy man, and may live these thirty years still, and not be older +than several are round us in town; and you never proposed my marrying +you sooner, because you knew it might be my ruin; and as to all the +rest, I have not failed you in anything, you have wanted for nothing.” + +I could not deny a word of this, and had nothing to say to it in +general. “But why, then,” says I, “can you persuade me to such a horrid +step as leaving you, since you have not left me? Will you allow no +affection, no love on my side, where there has been so much on your +side? Have I made you no returns? Have I given no testimony of my +sincerity and of my passion? Are the sacrifices I have made of honour +and modesty to you no proof of my being tied to you in bonds too strong +to be broken?” + +“But here, my dear,” says he, “you may come into a safe station, and +appear with honour and with splendour at once, and the remembrance of +what we have done may be wrapt up in an eternal silence, as if it had +never happened; you shall always have my respect, and my sincere +affection, only then it shall be honest, and perfectly just to my +brother; you shall be my dear sister, as now you are my dear——” and +there he stopped. + +“Your dear whore,” says I, “you would have said if you had gone on, and +you might as well have said it; but I understand you. However, I desire +you to remember the long discourses you have had with me, and the many +hours’ pains you have taken to persuade me to believe myself an honest +woman; that I was your wife intentionally, though not in the eyes of +the world, and that it was as effectual a marriage that had passed +between us as if we had been publicly wedded by the parson of the +parish. You know and cannot but remember that these have been your own +words to me.” + +I found this was a little too close upon him, but I made it up in what +follows. He stood stock-still for a while and said nothing, and I went +on thus: “You cannot,” says I, “without the highest injustice, believe +that I yielded upon all these persuasions without a love not to be +questioned, not to be shaken again by anything that could happen +afterward. If you have such dishonourable thoughts of me, I must ask +you what foundation in any of my behaviour have I given for such a +suggestion? + +“If, then, I have yielded to the importunities of my affection, and if +I have been persuaded to believe that I am really, and in the essence +of the thing, your wife, shall I now give the lie to all those +arguments and call myself your whore, or mistress, which is the same +thing? And will you transfer me to your brother? Can you transfer my +affection? Can you bid me cease loving you, and bid me love him? It is +in my power, think you, to make such a change at demand? No, sir,” said +I, “depend upon it ’tis impossible, and whatever the change of your +side may be, I will ever be true; and I had much rather, since it is +come that unhappy length, be your whore than your brother’s wife.” + +He appeared pleased and touched with the impression of this last +discourse, and told me that he stood where he did before; that he had +not been unfaithful to me in any one promise he had ever made yet, but +that there were so many terrible things presented themselves to his +view in the affair before me, and that on my account in particular, +that he had thought of the other as a remedy so effectual as nothing +could come up to it. That he thought this would not be entire parting +us, but we might love as friends all our days, and perhaps with more +satisfaction than we should in the station we were now in, as things +might happen; that he durst say, I could not apprehend anything from +him as to betraying a secret, which could not but be the destruction of +us both, if it came out; that he had but one question to ask of me that +could lie in the way of it, and if that question was answered in the +negative, he could not but think still it was the only step I could +take. + +I guessed at his question presently, namely, whether I was sure I was +not with child? As to that, I told him he need not be concerned about +it, for I was not with child. “Why, then, my dear,” says he, “we have +no time to talk further now. Consider of it, and think closely about +it; I cannot but be of the opinion still, that it will be the best +course you can take.” And with this he took his leave, and the more +hastily too, his mother and sisters ringing at the gate, just at the +moment that he had risen up to go. + +He left me in the utmost confusion of thought; and he easily perceived +it the next day, and all the rest of the week, for it was but Tuesday +evening when we talked; but he had no opportunity to come at me all +that week, till the Sunday after, when I, being indisposed, did not go +to church, and he, making some excuse for the like, stayed at home. + +And now he had me an hour and a half again by myself, and we fell into +the same arguments all over again, or at least so near the same, as it +would be to no purpose to repeat them. At last I asked him warmly, what +opinion he must have of my modesty, that he could suppose I should so +much as entertain a thought of lying with two brothers, and assured him +it could never be. I added, if he was to tell me that he would never +see me more, than which nothing but death could be more terrible, yet I +could never entertain a thought so dishonourable to myself, and so base +to him; and therefore, I entreated him, if he had one grain of respect +or affection left for me, that he would speak no more of it to me, or +that he would pull his sword out and kill me. He appeared surprised at +my obstinacy, as he called it; told me I was unkind to myself, and +unkind to him in it; that it was a crisis unlooked for upon us both, +and impossible for either of us to foresee, but that he did not see any +other way to save us both from ruin, and therefore he thought it the +more unkind; but that if he must say no more of it to me, he added with +an unusual coldness, that he did not know anything else we had to talk +of; and so he rose up to take his leave. I rose up too, as if with the +same indifference; but when he came to give me as it were a parting +kiss, I burst out into such a passion of crying, that though I would +have spoke, I could not, and only pressing his hand, seemed to give him +the adieu, but cried vehemently. + +He was sensibly moved with this; so he sat down again, and said a great +many kind things to me, to abate the excess of my passion, but still +urged the necessity of what he had proposed; all the while insisting, +that if I did refuse, he would notwithstanding provide for me; but +letting me plainly see that he would decline me in the main point—nay, +even as a mistress; making it a point of honour not to lie with the +woman that, for aught he knew, might come to be his brother’s wife. + +The bare loss of him as a gallant was not so much my affliction as the +loss of his person, whom indeed I loved to distraction; and the loss of +all the expectations I had, and which I always had built my hopes upon, +of having him one day for my husband. These things oppressed my mind so +much, that, in short, I fell very ill; the agonies of my mind, in a +word, threw me into a high fever, and long it was, that none in the +family expected my life. + +I was reduced very low indeed, and was often delirious and +light-headed; but nothing lay so near me as the fear that, when I was +light-headed, I should say something or other to his prejudice. I was +distressed in my mind also to see him, and so he was to see me, for he +really loved me most passionately; but it could not be; there was not +the least room to desire it on one side or other, or so much as to make +it decent. + +It was near five weeks that I kept my bed and though the violence of my +fever abated in three weeks, yet it several times returned; and the +physicians said two or three times, they could do no more for me, but +that they must leave nature and the distemper to fight it out, only +strengthening the first with cordials to maintain the struggle. After +the end of five weeks I grew better, but was so weak, so altered, so +melancholy, and recovered so slowly, that the physicians apprehended I +should go into a consumption; and which vexed me most, they gave it as +their opinion that my mind was oppressed, that something troubled me, +and, in short, that I was in love. Upon this, the whole house was set +upon me to examine me, and to press me to tell whether I was in love or +not, and with whom; but as I well might, I denied my being in love at +all. + +They had on this occasion a squabble one day about me at table, that +had like to have put the whole family in an uproar, and for some time +did so. They happened to be all at table but the father; as for me, I +was ill, and in my chamber. At the beginning of the talk, which was +just as they had finished their dinner, the old gentlewoman, who had +sent me somewhat to eat, called her maid to go up and ask me if I would +have any more; but the maid brought down word I had not eaten half what +she had sent me already. + +“Alas,” says the old lady, “that poor girl! I am afraid she will never +be well.” + +“Well!” says the elder brother, “how should Mrs. Betty be well? They +say she is in love.” + +“I believe nothing of it,” says the old gentlewoman. + +“I don’t know,” says the eldest sister, “what to say to it; they have +made such a rout about her being so handsome, and so charming, and I +know not what, and that in her hearing too, that has turned the +creature’s head, I believe, and who knows what possessions may follow +such doings? For my part, I don’t know what to make of it.” + +“Why, sister, you must acknowledge she is very handsome,” says the +elder brother. + +“Ay, and a great deal handsomer than you, sister,” says Robin, “and +that’s your mortification.” + +“Well, well, that is not the question,” says his sister; “that girl is +well enough, and she knows it well enough; she need not be told of it +to make her vain.” + +“We are not talking of her being vain,” says the elder brother, “but of +her being in love; it may be she is in love with herself; it seems my +sisters think so.” + +“I would she was in love with me,” says Robin; “I’d quickly put her out +of her pain.” + +“What d’ye mean by that, son,” says the old lady; “how can you talk +so?” + +“Why, madam,” says Robin, again, very honestly, “do you think I’d let +the poor girl die for love, and of one that is near at hand to be had, +too?” + +“Fie, brother!”, says the second sister, “how can you talk so? Would +you take a creature that has not a groat in the world?” + +“Prithee, child,” says Robin, “beauty’s a portion, and good-humour with +it is a double portion; I wish thou hadst half her stock of both for +thy portion.” So there was her mouth stopped. + +“I find,” says the eldest sister, “if Betty is not in love, my brother +is. I wonder he has not broke his mind to Betty; I warrant she won’t +say No.” + +“They that yield when they’re asked,” says Robin, “are one step before +them that were never asked to yield, sister, and two steps before them +that yield before they are asked; and that’s an answer to you, sister.” + +This fired the sister, and she flew into a passion, and said, things +were come to that pass that it was time the wench, meaning me, was out +of the family; and but that she was not fit to be turned out, she hoped +her father and mother would consider of it as soon as she could be +removed. + +Robin replied, that was business for the master and mistress of the +family, who where not to be taught by one that had so little judgment +as his eldest sister. + +It ran up a great deal farther; the sister scolded, Robin rallied and +bantered, but poor Betty lost ground by it extremely in the family. I +heard of it, and I cried heartily, and the old lady came up to me, +somebody having told her that I was so much concerned about it. I +complained to her, that it was very hard the doctors should pass such a +censure upon me, for which they had no ground; and that it was still +harder, considering the circumstances I was under in the family; that I +hoped I had done nothing to lessen her esteem for me, or given any +occasion for the bickering between her sons and daughters, and I had +more need to think of a coffin than of being in love, and begged she +would not let me suffer in her opinion for anybody’s mistakes but my +own. + +She was sensible of the justice of what I said, but told me, since +there had been such a clamour among them, and that her younger son +talked after such a rattling way as he did, she desired I would be so +faithful to her as to answer her but one question sincerely. I told her +I would, with all my heart, and with the utmost plainness and +sincerity. Why, then, the question was, whether there was anything +between her son Robert and me. I told her with all the protestations of +sincerity that I was able to make, and as I might well, do, that there +was not, nor ever had been; I told her that Mr. Robert had rattled and +jested, as she knew it was his way, and that I took it always, as I +supposed he meant it, to be a wild airy way of discourse that had no +signification in it; and again assured her, that there was not the +least tittle of what she understood by it between us; and that those +who had suggested it had done me a great deal of wrong, and Mr. Robert +no service at all. + +The old lady was fully satisfied, and kissed me, spoke cheerfully to +me, and bid me take care of my health and want for nothing, and so took +her leave. But when she came down she found the brother and all his +sisters together by the ears; they were angry, even to passion, at his +upbraiding them with their being homely, and having never had any +sweethearts, never having been asked the question, and their being so +forward as almost to ask first. He rallied them upon the subject of +Mrs. Betty; how pretty, how good-humoured, how she sung better than +they did, and danced better, and how much handsomer she was; and in +doing this he omitted no ill-natured thing that could vex them, and +indeed, pushed too hard upon them. The old lady came down in the height +of it, and to put a stop it to, told them all the discourse she had had +with me, and how I answered, that there was nothing between Mr. Robert +and I. + +“She’s wrong there,” says Robin, “for if there was not a great deal +between us, we should be closer together than we are. I told her I +loved her hugely,” says he, “but I could never make the jade believe I +was in earnest.” “I do not know how you should,” says his mother; +“nobody in their senses could believe you were in earnest, to talk so +to a poor girl, whose circumstances you know so well. + +“But prithee, son,” adds she, “since you tell me that you could not +make her believe you were in earnest, what must we believe about it? +For you ramble so in your discourse, that nobody knows whether you are +in earnest or in jest; but as I find the girl, by your own confession, +has answered truly, I wish you would do so too, and tell me seriously, +so that I may depend upon it. Is there anything in it or no? Are you in +earnest or no? Are you distracted, indeed, or are you not? ’Tis a +weighty question, and I wish you would make us easy about it.” + +“By my faith, madam,” says Robin, “’tis in vain to mince the matter or +tell any more lies about it; I am in earnest, as much as a man is +that’s going to be hanged. If Mrs. Betty would say she loved me, and +that she would marry me, I’d have her tomorrow morning fasting, and +say, ‘To have and to hold,’ instead of eating my breakfast.” + +“Well,” says the mother, “then there’s one son lost”; and she said it +in a very mournful tone, as one greatly concerned at it. + +“I hope not, madam,” says Robin; “no man is lost when a good wife has +found him.” + +“Why, but, child,” says the old lady, “she is a beggar.” + +“Why, then, madam, she has the more need of charity,” says Robin; “I’ll +take her off the hands of the parish, and she and I’ll beg together.” + +“It’s bad jesting with such things,” says the mother. + +“I don’t jest, madam,” says Robin. “We’ll come and beg your pardon, +madam; and your blessing, madam, and my father’s.” + +“This is all out of the way, son,” says the mother. “If you are in +earnest you are undone.” + +“I am afraid not,” says he, “for I am really afraid she won’t have me; +after all my sister’s huffing and blustering, I believe I shall never +be able to persuade her to it.” + +“That’s a fine tale, indeed; she is not so far out of her senses +neither. Mrs. Betty is no fool,” says the younger sister. “Do you think +she has learnt to say No, any more than other people?” + +“No, Mrs. Mirth-wit,” says Robin, “Mrs. Betty’s no fool; but Mrs. Betty +may be engaged some other way, and what then?” + +“Nay,” says the eldest sister, “we can say nothing to that. Who must it +be to, then? She is never out of the doors; it must be between you.” + +“I have nothing to say to that,” says Robin. “I have been examined +enough; there’s my brother. If it must be between us, go to work with +him.” + +This stung the elder brother to the quick, and he concluded that Robin +had discovered something. However, he kept himself from appearing +disturbed. “Prithee,” says he, “don’t go to shame your stories off upon +me; I tell you, I deal in no such ware; I have nothing to say to Mrs. +Betty, nor to any of the Mrs. Bettys in the parish”; and with that he +rose up and brushed off. + +“No,” says the eldest sister, “I dare answer for my brother; he knows +the world better.” + +Thus the discourse ended, but it left the elder brother quite +confounded. He concluded his brother had made a full discovery, and he +began to doubt whether I had been concerned in it or not; but with all +his management he could not bring it about to get at me. At last he was +so perplexed that he was quite desperate, and resolved he would come +into my chamber and see me, whatever came of it. In order to do this, +he contrived it so, that one day after dinner, watching his eldest +sister till he could see her go upstairs, he runs after her. “Hark ye, +sister,” says he, “where is this sick woman? May not a body see her?” +“Yes,” says the sister, “I believe you may; but let me go first a +little, and I’ll tell you.” So she ran up to the door and gave me +notice, and presently called to him again. “Brother,” says she, “you +may come if you please.” So in he came, just in the same kind of rant. +“Well,” says he at the door as he came in, “where is this sick body +that’s in love? How do ye do, Mrs. Betty?” I would have got up out of +my chair, but was so weak I could not for a good while; and he saw it, +and his sister too, and she said, “Come, do not strive to stand up; my +brother desires no ceremony, especially now you are so weak.” “No, no, +Mrs. Betty, pray sit still,” says he, and so sits himself down in a +chair over against me, and appeared as if he was mighty merry. + +He talked a lot of rambling stuff to his sister and to me, sometimes of +one thing, sometimes of another, on purpose to amuse his sister, and +every now and then would turn it upon the old story, directing it to +me. “Poor Mrs. Betty,” says he, “it is a sad thing to be in love; why, +it has reduced you sadly.” At last I spoke a little. “I am glad to see +you so merry, sir,” says I; “but I think the doctor might have found +something better to do than to make his game at his patients. If I had +been ill of no other distemper, I know the proverb too well to have let +him come to me.” “What proverb?” says he, “Oh! I remember it now. What— + +“Where love is the case, +The doctor’s an ass.” + + +Is not that it, Mrs. Betty?” I smiled and said nothing. “Nay,” says he, +“I think the effect has proved it to be love, for it seems the doctor +has been able to do you but little service; you mend very slowly, they +say. I doubt there’s somewhat in it, Mrs. Betty; I doubt you are sick +of the incurables, and that is love.” I smiled and said, “No, indeed, +sir, that’s none of my distemper.” + +We had a deal of such discourse, and sometimes others that signified as +little. By and by he asked me to sing them a song, at which I smiled, +and said my singing days were over. At last he asked me if he should +play upon his flute to me; his sister said she believe it would hurt +me, and that my head could not bear it. I bowed, and said, No, it would +not hurt me. “And, pray, madam,” said I, “do not hinder it; I love the +music of the flute very much.” Then his sister said, “Well, do, then, +brother.” With that he pulled out the key of his closet. “Dear sister,” +says he, “I am very lazy; do step to my closet and fetch my flute; it +lies in such a drawer,” naming a place where he was sure it was not, +that she might be a little while a-looking for it. + +As soon as she was gone, he related the whole story to me of the +discourse his brother had about me, and of his pushing it at him, and +his concern about it, which was the reason of his contriving this visit +to me. I assured him I had never opened my mouth either to his brother +or to anybody else. I told him the dreadful exigence I was in; that my +love to him, and his offering to have me forget that affection and +remove it to another, had thrown me down; and that I had a thousand +times wished I might die rather than recover, and to have the same +circumstances to struggle with as I had before, and that his +backwardness to life had been the great reason of the slowness of my +recovering. I added that I foresaw that as soon as I was well, I must +quit the family, and that as for marrying his brother, I abhorred the +thoughts of it after what had been my case with him, and that he might +depend upon it I would never see his brother again upon that subject; +that if he would break all his vows and oaths and engagements with me, +be that between his conscience and his honour and himself; but he +should never be able to say that I, whom he had persuaded to call +myself his wife, and who had given him the liberty to use me as a wife, +was not as faithful to him as a wife ought to be, whatever he might be +to me. + +He was going to reply, and had said that he was sorry I could not be +persuaded, and was a-going to say more, but he heard his sister +a-coming, and so did I; and yet I forced out these few words as a +reply, that I could never be persuaded to love one brother and marry +another. He shook his head and said, “Then I am ruined,” meaning +himself; and that moment his sister entered the room and told him she +could not find the flute. “Well,” says he merrily, “this laziness won’t +do”; so he gets up and goes himself to go to look for it, but comes +back without it too; not but that he could have found it, but because +his mind was a little disturbed, and he had no mind to play; and, +besides, the errand he sent his sister on was answered another way; for +he only wanted an opportunity to speak to me, which he gained, though +not much to his satisfaction. + +I had, however, a great deal of satisfaction in having spoken my mind +to him with freedom, and with such an honest plainness, as I have +related; and though it did not at all work the way I desired, that is +to say, to oblige the person to me the more, yet it took from him all +possibility of quitting me but by a downright breach of honour, and +giving up all the faith of a gentleman to me, which he had so often +engaged by, never to abandon me, but to make me his wife as soon as he +came to his estate. + +It was not many weeks after this before I was about the house again, +and began to grow well; but I continued melancholy, silent, dull, and +retired, which amazed the whole family, except he that knew the reason +of it; yet it was a great while before he took any notice of it, and I, +as backward to speak as he, carried respectfully to him, but never +offered to speak a word to him that was particular of any kind +whatsoever; and this continued for sixteen or seventeen weeks; so that, +as I expected every day to be dismissed the family, on account of what +distaste they had taken another way, in which I had no guilt, so I +expected to hear no more of this gentleman, after all his solemn vows +and protestations, but to be ruined and abandoned. + +At last I broke the way myself in the family for my removing; for being +talking seriously with the old lady one day, about my own circumstances +in the world, and how my distemper had left a heaviness upon my +spirits, that I was not the same thing I was before, the old lady said, +“I am afraid, Betty, what I have said to you about my son has had some +influence upon you, and that you are melancholy on his account; pray, +will you let me know how the matter stands with you both, if it may not +be improper? For, as for Robin, he does nothing but rally and banter +when I speak of it to him.” “Why, truly, madam,” said I, “that matter +stands as I wish it did not, and I shall be very sincere with you in +it, whatever befalls me for it. Mr. Robert has several times proposed +marriage to me, which is what I had no reason to expect, my poor +circumstances considered; but I have always resisted him, and that +perhaps in terms more positive than became me, considering the regard +that I ought to have for every branch of your family; but,” said I, +“madam, I could never so far forget my obligation to you and all your +house, to offer to consent to a thing which I know must needs be +disobliging to you, and this I have made my argument to him, and have +positively told him that I would never entertain a thought of that kind +unless I had your consent, and his father’s also, to whom I was bound +by so many invincible obligations.” + +“And is this possible, Mrs. Betty?” says the old lady. “Then you have +been much juster to us than we have been to you; for we have all looked +upon you as a kind of snare to my son, and I had a proposal to make to +you for your removing, for fear of it; but I had not yet mentioned it +to you, because I thought you were not thorough well, and I was afraid +of grieving you too much, lest it should throw you down again; for we +have all a respect for you still, though not so much as to have it be +the ruin of my son; but if it be as you say, we have all wronged you +very much.” + +“As to the truth of what I say, madam,” said I, “refer you to your son +himself; if he will do me any justice, he must tell you the story just +as I have told it.” + +Away goes the old lady to her daughters and tells them the whole story, +just as I had told it her; and they were surprised at it, you may be +sure, as I believed they would be. One said she could never have +thought it; another said Robin was a fool; a third said she would not +believe a word of it, and she would warrant that Robin would tell the +story another way. But the old gentlewoman, who was resolved to go to +the bottom of it before I could have the least opportunity of +acquainting her son with what had passed, resolved too that she would +talk with her son immediately, and to that purpose sent for him, for he +was gone but to a lawyer’s house in the town, upon some petty business +of his own, and upon her sending he returned immediately. + +Upon his coming up to them, for they were all still together, “Sit +down, Robin,” says the old lady, “I must have some talk with you.” +“With all my heart, madam,” says Robin, looking very merry. “I hope it +is about a good wife, for I am at a great loss in that affair.” “How +can that be?” says his mother; “did not you say you resolved to have +Mrs. Betty?” “Ay, madam,” says Robin, “but there is one has forbid the +banns.” “Forbid, the banns!” says his mother; “who can that be?” “Even +Mrs. Betty herself,” says Robin. “How so?” says his mother. “Have you +asked her the question, then?” “Yes, indeed, madam,” says Robin. “I +have attacked her in form five times since she was sick, and am beaten +off; the jade is so stout she won’t capitulate nor yield upon any +terms, except such as I cannot effectually grant.” “Explain yourself,” +says the mother, “for I am surprised; I do not understand you. I hope +you are not in earnest.” + +“Why, madam,” says he, “the case is plain enough upon me, it explains +itself; she won’t have me, she says; is not that plain enough? I think +’tis plain, and pretty rough too.” “Well, but,” says the mother, “you +talk of conditions that you cannot grant; what does she want—a +settlement? Her jointure ought to be according to her portion; but what +fortune does she bring you?” “Nay, as to fortune,” says Robin, “she is +rich enough; I am satisfied in that point; but ’tis I that am not able +to come up to her terms, and she is positive she will not have me +without.” + +Here the sisters put in. “Madam,” says the second sister, “’tis +impossible to be serious with him; he will never give a direct answer +to anything; you had better let him alone, and talk no more of it to +him; you know how to dispose of her out of his way if you thought there +was anything in it.” Robin was a little warmed with his sister’s +rudeness, but he was even with her, and yet with good manners too. +“There are two sorts of people, madam,” says he, turning to his mother, +“that there is no contending with; that is, a wise body and a fool; +’tis a little hard I should engage with both of them together.” + +The younger sister then put in. “We must be fools indeed,” says she, +“in my brother’s opinion, that he should think we can believe he has +seriously asked Mrs. Betty to marry him, and that she has refused him.” + +“Answer, and answer not, say Solomon,” replied her brother. “When your +brother had said to your mother that he had asked her no less than five +times, and that it was so, that she positively denied him, methinks a +younger sister need not question the truth of it when her mother did +not.” “My mother, you see, did not understand it,” says the second +sister. “There’s some difference,” says Robin, “between desiring me to +explain it, and telling me she did not believe it.” + +“Well, but, son,” says the old lady, “if you are disposed to let us +into the mystery of it, what were these hard conditions?” “Yes, madam,” +says Robin, “I had done it before now, if the teasers here had not +worried me by way of interruption. The conditions are, that I bring my +father and you to consent to it, and without that she protests she will +never see me more upon that head; and to these conditions, as I said, I +suppose I shall never be able to grant. I hope my warm sisters will be +answered now, and blush a little; if not, I have no more to say till I +hear further.” + +This answer was surprising to them all, though less to the mother, +because of what I had said to her. As to the daughters, they stood mute +a great while; but the mother said with some passion, “Well, I had +heard this before, but I could not believe it; but if it is so, then we +have all done Betty wrong, and she has behaved better than I ever +expected.” “Nay,” says the eldest sister, “if it be so, she has acted +handsomely indeed.” “I confess,” says the mother, “it was none of her +fault, if he was fool enough to take a fancy to her; but to give such +an answer to him, shows more respect to your father and me than I can +tell how to express; I shall value the girl the better for it as long +as I know her.” “But I shall not,” says Robin, “unless you will give +your consent.” “I’ll consider of that a while,” says the mother; “I +assure you, if there were not some other objections in the way, this +conduct of hers would go a great way to bring me to consent.” “I wish +it would go quite through it,” says Robin; “if you had as much thought +about making me easy as you have about making me rich, you would soon +consent to it.” + +“Why, Robin,” says the mother again, “are you really in earnest? Would +you so fain have her as you pretend?” “Really, madam,” says Robin, “I +think ’tis hard you should question me upon that head after all I have +said. I won’t say that I will have her; how can I resolve that point, +when you see I cannot have her without your consent? Besides, I am not +bound to marry at all. But this I will say, I am in earnest in, that I +will never have anybody else if I can help it; so you may determine for +me. Betty or nobody is the word, and the question which of the two +shall be in your breast to decide, madam, provided only, that my +good-humoured sisters here may have no vote in it.” + +All this was dreadful to me, for the mother began to yield, and Robin +pressed her home on it. On the other hand, she advised with the eldest +son, and he used all the arguments in the world to persuade her to +consent; alleging his brother’s passionate love for me, and my generous +regard to the family, in refusing my own advantages upon such a nice +point of honour, and a thousand such things. And as to the father, he +was a man in a hurry of public affairs and getting money, seldom at +home, thoughtful of the main chance, but left all those things to his +wife. + +You may easily believe, that when the plot was thus, as they thought, +broke out, and that every one thought they knew how things were +carried, it was not so difficult or so dangerous for the elder brother, +whom nobody suspected of anything, to have a freer access to me than +before; nay, the mother, which was just as he wished, proposed it to +him to talk with Mrs. Betty. “For it may be, son,” said she, “you may +see farther into the thing than I, and see if you think she has been so +positive as Robin says she has been, or no.” This was as well as he +could wish, and he, as it were, yielding to talk with me at his +mother’s request, she brought me to him into her own chamber, told me +her son had some business with me at her request, and desired me to be +very sincere with him, and then she left us together, and he went and +shut the door after her. + +He came back to me and took me in his arms, and kissed me very +tenderly; but told me he had a long discourse to hold with me, and it +was not come to that crisis, that I should make myself happy or +miserable as long as I lived; that the thing was now gone so far, that +if I could not comply with his desire, we would both be ruined. Then he +told the whole story between Robin, as he called him, and his mother +and sisters and himself, as it is above. “And now, dear child,” says +he, “consider what it will be to marry a gentleman of a good family, in +good circumstances, and with the consent of the whole house, and to +enjoy all that the world can give you; and what, on the other hand, to +be sunk into the dark circumstances of a woman that has lost her +reputation; and that though I shall be a private friend to you while I +live, yet as I shall be suspected always, so you will be afraid to see +me, and I shall be afraid to own you.” + +He gave me no time to reply, but went on with me thus: “What has +happened between us, child, so long as we both agree to do so, may be +buried and forgotten. I shall always be your sincere friend, without +any inclination to nearer intimacy, when you become my sister; and we +shall have all the honest part of conversation without any reproaches +between us of having done amiss. I beg of you to consider it, and to +not stand in the way of your own safety and prosperity; and to satisfy +you that I am sincere,” added he, “I here offer you £500 in money, to +make you some amends for the freedoms I have taken with you, which we +shall look upon as some of the follies of our lives, which ’tis hoped +we may repent of.” + +He spoke this in so much more moving terms than it is possible for me +to express, and with so much greater force of argument than I can +repeat, that I only recommend it to those who read the story, to +suppose, that as he held me above an hour and a half in that discourse, +so he answered all my objections, and fortified his discourse with all +the arguments that human wit and art could devise. + +I cannot say, however, that anything he said made impression enough +upon me so as to give me any thought of the matter, till he told me at +last very plainly, that if I refused, he was sorry to add that he could +never go on with me in that station as we stood before; that though he +loved me as well as ever, and that I was as agreeable to him as ever, +yet sense of virtue had not so far forsaken him as to suffer him to lie +with a woman that his brother courted to make his wife; and if he took +his leave of me, with a denial in this affair, whatever he might do for +me in the point of support, grounded on his first engagement of +maintaining me, yet he would not have me be surprised that he was +obliged to tell me he could not allow himself to see me any more; and +that, indeed, I could not expect it of him. + +I received this last part with some token of surprise and disorder, and +had much ado to avoid sinking down, for indeed I loved him to an +extravagance not easy to imagine; but he perceived my disorder. He +entreated me to consider seriously of it; assured me that it was the +only way to preserve our mutual affection; that in this station we +might love as friends, with the utmost passion, and with a love of +relation untainted, free from our just reproaches, and free from other +people’s suspicions; that he should ever acknowledge his happiness +owing to me; that he would be debtor to me as long as he lived, and +would be paying that debt as long as he had breath. Thus he wrought me +up, in short, to a kind of hesitation in the matter; having the dangers +on one side represented in lively figures, and indeed, heightened by my +imagination of being turned out to the wide world a mere cast-off +whore, for it was no less, and perhaps exposed as such, with little to +provide for myself, with no friend, no acquaintance in the whole world, +out of that town, and there I could not pretend to stay. All this +terrified me to the last degree, and he took care upon all occasions to +lay it home to me in the worst colours that it could be possible to be +drawn in. On the other hand, he failed not to set forth the easy, +prosperous life which I was going to live. + +He answered all that I could object from affection, and from former +engagements, with telling me the necessity that was before us of taking +other measures now; and as to his promises of marriage, the nature of +things, he said, had put an end to that, by the probability of my being +his brother’s wife, before the time to which his promises all referred. + +Thus, in a word, I may say, he reasoned me out of my reason; he +conquered all my arguments, and I began to see a danger that I was in, +which I had not considered of before, and that was, of being dropped by +both of them and left alone in the world to shift for myself. + +This, and his persuasion, at length prevailed with me to consent, +though with so much reluctance, that it was easy to see I should go to +church like a bear to the stake. I had some little apprehensions about +me, too, lest my new spouse, who, by the way, I had not the least +affection for, should be skillful enough to challenge me on another +account, upon our first coming to bed together. But whether he did it +with design or not, I know not, but his elder brother took care to make +him very much fuddled before he went to bed, so that I had the +satisfaction of a drunken bedfellow the first night. How he did it I +know not, but I concluded that he certainly contrived it, that his +brother might be able to make no judgment of the difference between a +maid and a married woman; nor did he ever entertain any notions of it, +or disturb his thoughts about it. + +I should go back a little here to where I left off. The elder brother +having thus managed me, his next business was to manage his mother, and +he never left till he had brought her to acquiesce and be passive in +the thing, even without acquainting the father, other than by post +letters; so that she consented to our marrying privately, and leaving +her to manage the father afterwards. + +Then he cajoled with his brother, and persuaded him what service he had +done him, and how he had brought his mother to consent, which, though +true, was not indeed done to serve him, but to serve himself; but thus +diligently did he cheat him, and had the thanks of a faithful friend +for shifting off his whore into his brother’s arms for a wife. So +certainly does interest banish all manner of affection, and so +naturally do men give up honour and justice, humanity, and even +Christianity, to secure themselves. + +I must now come back to brother Robin, as we always called him, who +having got his mother’s consent, as above, came big with the news to +me, and told me the whole story of it, with a sincerity so visible, +that I must confess it grieved me that I must be the instrument to +abuse so honest a gentleman. But there was no remedy; he would have me, +and I was not obliged to tell him that I was his brother’s whore, +though I had no other way to put him off; so I came gradually into it, +to his satisfaction, and behold we were married. + +Modesty forbids me to reveal the secrets of the marriage-bed, but +nothing could have happened more suitable to my circumstances than +that, as above, my husband was so fuddled when he came to bed, that he +could not remember in the morning whether he had had any conversation +with me or no, and I was obliged to tell him he had, though in reality +he had not, that I might be sure he could make to inquiry about +anything else. + +It concerns the story in hand very little to enter into the further +particulars of the family, or of myself, for the five years that I +lived with this husband, only to observe that I had two children by +him, and that at the end of five years he died. He had been really a +very good husband to me, and we lived very agreeably together; but as +he had not received much from them, and had in the little time he lived +acquired no great matters, so my circumstances were not great, nor was +I much mended by the match. Indeed, I had preserved the elder brother’s +bonds to me, to pay £500, which he offered me for my consent to marry +his brother; and this, with what I had saved of the money he formerly +gave me, about as much more by my husband, left me a widow with about +£1200 in my pocket. + +My two children were, indeed, taken happily off my hands by my +husband’s father and mother, and that, by the way, was all they got by +Mrs. Betty. + +I confess I was not suitably affected with the loss of my husband, nor +indeed can I say that I ever loved him as I ought to have done, or as +was proportionable to the good usage I had from him, for he was a +tender, kind, good-humoured man as any woman could desire; but his +brother being so always in my sight, at least while we were in the +country, was a continual snare to me, and I never was in bed with my +husband but I wished myself in the arms of his brother; and though his +brother never offered me the least kindness that way after our +marriage, but carried it just as a brother ought to do, yet it was +impossible for me to do so to him; in short, I committed adultery and +incest with him every day in my desires, which, without doubt, was as +effectually criminal in the nature of the guilt as if I had actually +done it. + +Before my husband died his elder brother was married, and we, being +then removed to London, were written to by the old lady to come and be +at the wedding. My husband went, but I pretended indisposition, and +that I could not possibly travel, so I stayed behind; for, in short, I +could not bear the sight of his being given to another woman, though I +knew I was never to have him myself. + +I was now, as above, left loose to the world, and being still young and +handsome, as everybody said of me, and I assure you I thought myself +so, and with a tolerable fortune in my pocket, I put no small value +upon myself. I was courted by several very considerable tradesmen, and +particularly very warmly by one, a linen-draper, at whose house, after +my husband’s death, I took a lodging, his sister being my acquaintance. +Here I had all the liberty and all the opportunity to be gay and appear +in company that I could desire, my landlord’s sister being one of the +maddest, gayest things alive, and not so much mistress of her virtue as +I thought at first she had been. She brought me into a world of wild +company, and even brought home several persons, such as she liked well +enough to gratify, to see her pretty widow, so she was pleased to call +me, and that name I got in a little time in public. Now, as fame and +fools make an assembly, I was here wonderfully caressed, had abundance +of admirers, and such as called themselves lovers; but I found not one +fair proposal among them all. As for their common design, that I +understood too well to be drawn into any more snares of that kind. The +case was altered with me: I had money in my pocket, and had nothing to +say to them. I had been tricked once by that cheat called love, but the +game was over; I was resolved now to be married or nothing, and to be +well married or not at all. + +I loved the company, indeed, of men of mirth and wit, men of gallantry +and figure, and was often entertained with such, as I was also with +others; but I found by just observation, that the brightest men came +upon the dullest errand—that is to say, the dullest as to what I aimed +at. On the other hand, those who came with the best proposals were the +dullest and most disagreeable part of the world. I was not averse to a +tradesman, but then I would have a tradesman, forsooth, that was +something of a gentleman too; that when my husband had a mind to carry +me to the court, or to the play, he might become a sword, and look as +like a gentleman as another man; and not be one that had the mark of +his apron-strings upon his coat, or the mark of his hat upon his +periwig; that should look as if he was set on to his sword, when his +sword was put on to him, and that carried his trade in his countenance. + +Well, at last I found this amphibious creature, this land-water thing +called a gentleman-tradesman; and as a just plague upon my folly, I was +catched in the very snare which, as I might say, I laid for myself. I +said for myself, for I was not trepanned, I confess, but I betrayed +myself. + +This was a draper, too, for though my comrade would have brought me to +a bargain with her brother, yet when it came to the point, it was, it +seems, for a mistress, not a wife; and I kept true to this notion, that +a woman should never be kept for a mistress that had money to keep +herself. + +Thus my pride, not my principle, my money, not my virtue, kept me +honest; though, as it proved, I found I had much better have been sold +by my she-comrade to her brother, than have sold myself as I did to a +tradesman that was rake, gentleman, shopkeeper, and beggar, all +together. + +But I was hurried on (by my fancy to a gentleman) to ruin myself in the +grossest manner that every woman did; for my new husband coming to a +lump of money at once, fell into such a profusion of expense, that all +I had, and all he had before, if he had anything worth mentioning, +would not have held it out above one year. + +He was very fond of me for about a quarter of a year, and what I got by +that was, that I had the pleasure of seeing a great deal of my money +spent upon myself, and, as I may say, had some of the spending it too. +“Come, my dear,” says he to me one day, “shall we go and take a turn +into the country for about a week?” “Ay, my dear,” says I, “whither +would you go?” “I care not whither,” says he, “but I have a mind to +look like quality for a week. We’ll go to Oxford,” says he. “How,” says +I, “shall we go? I am no horsewoman, and ’tis too far for a coach.” +“Too far!” says he; “no place is too far for a coach-and-six. If I +carry you out, you shall travel like a duchess.” “Hum,” says I, “my +dear, ’tis a frolic; but if you have a mind to it, I don’t care.” Well, +the time was appointed, we had a rich coach, very good horses, a +coachman, postillion, and two footmen in very good liveries; a +gentleman on horseback, and a page with a feather in his hat upon +another horse. The servants all called him my lord, and the +inn-keepers, you may be sure, did the like, and I was her honour the +Countess, and thus we traveled to Oxford, and a very pleasant journey +we had; for, give him his due, not a beggar alive knew better how to be +a lord than my husband. We saw all the rarities at Oxford, talked with +two or three Fellows of colleges about putting out a young nephew, that +was left to his lordship’s care, to the University, and of their being +his tutors. We diverted ourselves with bantering several other poor +scholars, with hopes of being at least his lordship’s chaplains and +putting on a scarf; and thus having lived like quality indeed, as to +expense, we went away for Northampton, and, in a word, in about twelve +days’ ramble came home again, to the tune of about £93 expense. + +Vanity is the perfection of a fop. My husband had this excellence, that +he valued nothing of expense; and as his history, you may be sure, has +very little weight in it, ’tis enough to tell you that in about two +years and a quarter he broke, and was not so happy to get over into the +Mint, but got into a sponging-house, being arrested in an action too +heavy from him to give bail to, so he sent for me to come to him. + +It was no surprise to me, for I had foreseen some time that all was +going to wreck, and had been taking care to reserve something if I +could, though it was not much, for myself. But when he sent for me, he +behaved much better than I expected, and told me plainly he had played +the fool, and suffered himself to be surprised, which he might have +prevented; that now he foresaw he could not stand it, and therefore he +would have me go home, and in the night take away everything I had in +the house of any value, and secure it; and after that, he told me that +if I could get away one hundred or two hundred pounds in goods out of +the shop, I should do it; “only,” says he, “let me know nothing of it, +neither what you take nor whither you carry it; for as for me,” says +he, “I am resolved to get out of this house and be gone; and if you +never hear of me more, my dear,” says he, “I wish you well; I am only +sorry for the injury I have done you.” He said some very handsome +things to me indeed at parting; for I told you he was a gentleman, and +that was all the benefit I had of his being so; that he used me very +handsomely and with good manners upon all occasions, even to the last, +only spent all I had, and left me to rob the creditors for something to +subsist on. + +However, I did as he bade me, that you may be sure; and having thus +taken my leave of him, I never saw him more, for he found means to +break out of the bailiff’s house that night or the next, and go over +into France, and for the rest of the creditors scrambled for it as well +as they could. How, I knew not, for I could come at no knowledge of +anything, more than this, that he came home about three o’clock in the +morning, caused the rest of his goods to be removed into the Mint, and +the shop to be shut up; and having raised what money he could get +together, he got over, as I said, to France, from whence I had one or +two letters from him, and no more. I did not see him when he came home, +for he having given me such instructions as above, and I having made +the best of my time, I had no more business back again at the house, +not knowing but I might have been stopped there by the creditors; for a +commission of bankrupt being soon after issued, they might have stopped +me by orders from the commissioners. But my husband, having so +dexterously got out of the bailiff’s house by letting himself down in a +most desperate manner from almost the top of the house to the top of +another building, and leaping from thence, which was almost two +storeys, and which was enough indeed to have broken his neck, he came +home and got away his goods before the creditors could come to seize; +that is to say, before they could get out the commission, and be ready +to send their officers to take possession. + +My husband was so civil to me, for still I say he was much of a +gentleman, that in the first letter he wrote me from France, he let me +know where he had pawned twenty pieces of fine holland for £30, which +were really worth £90, and enclosed me the token and an order for the +taking them up, paying the money, which I did, and made in time above +£100 of them, having leisure to cut them and sell them, some and some, +to private families, as opportunity offered. + +However, with all this, and all that I had secured before, I found, +upon casting things up, my case was very much altered, any my fortune +much lessened; for, including the hollands and a parcel of fine +muslins, which I carried off before, and some plate, and other things, +I found I could hardly muster up £500; and my condition was very odd, +for though I had no child (I had had one by my gentleman draper, but it +was buried), yet I was a widow bewitched; I had a husband and no +husband, and I could not pretend to marry again, though I knew well +enough my husband would never see England any more, if he lived fifty +years. Thus, I say, I was limited from marriage, what offer might +soever be made me; and I had not one friend to advise with in the +condition I was in, least not one I durst trust the secret of my +circumstances to, for if the commissioners were to have been informed +where I was, I should have been fetched up and examined upon oath, and +all I have saved be taken away from me. + +Upon these apprehensions, the first thing I did was to go quite out of +my knowledge, and go by another name. This I did effectually, for I +went into the Mint too, took lodgings in a very private place, dressed +up in the habit of a widow, and called myself Mrs. Flanders. + +Here, however, I concealed myself, and though my new acquaintances knew +nothing of me, yet I soon got a great deal of company about me; and +whether it be that women are scarce among the sorts of people that +generally are to be found there, or that some consolations in the +miseries of the place are more requisite than on other occasions, I +soon found an agreeable woman was exceedingly valuable among the sons +of affliction there, and that those that wanted money to pay half a +crown on the pound to their creditors, and that run in debt at the sign +of the Bull for their dinners, would yet find money for a supper, if +they liked the woman. + +However, I kept myself safe yet, though I began, like my Lord +Rochester’s mistress, that loved his company, but would not admit him +farther, to have the scandal of a whore, without the joy; and upon this +score, tired with the place, and indeed with the company too, I began +to think of removing. + +It was indeed a subject of strange reflection to me to see men who were +overwhelmed in perplexed circumstances, who were reduced some degrees +below being ruined, whose families were objects of their own terror and +other people’s charity, yet while a penny lasted, nay, even beyond it, +endeavouring to drown themselves, labouring to forget former things, +which now it was the proper time to remember, making more work for +repentance, and sinning on, as a remedy for sin past. + +But it is none of my talent to preach; these men were too wicked, even +for me. There was something horrid and absurd in their way of sinning, +for it was all a force even upon themselves; they did not only act +against conscience, but against nature; they put a rape upon their +temper to drown the reflections, which their circumstances continually +gave them; and nothing was more easy than to see how sighs would +interrupt their songs, and paleness and anguish sit upon their brows, +in spite of the forced smiles they put on; nay, sometimes it would +break out at their very mouths when they had parted with their money +for a lewd treat or a wicked embrace. I have heard them, turning about, +fetch a deep sigh, and cry, “What a dog am I! Well, Betty, my dear, +I’ll drink thy health, though”; meaning the honest wife, that perhaps +had not a half-crown for herself and three or four children. The next +morning they are at their penitentials again; and perhaps the poor +weeping wife comes over to him, either brings him some account of what +his creditors are doing, and how she and the children are turned out of +doors, or some other dreadful news; and this adds to his +self-reproaches; but when he has thought and pored on it till he is +almost mad, having no principles to support him, nothing within him or +above him to comfort him, but finding it all darkness on every side, he +flies to the same relief again, viz. to drink it away, debauch it away, +and falling into company of men in just the same condition with +himself, he repeats the crime, and thus he goes every day one step +onward of his way to destruction. + +I was not wicked enough for such fellows as these yet. On the contrary, +I began to consider here very seriously what I had to do; how things +stood with me, and what course I ought to take. I knew I had no +friends, no, not one friend or relation in the world; and that little I +had left apparently wasted, which when it was gone, I saw nothing but +misery and starving was before me. Upon these considerations, I say, +and filled with horror at the place I was in, and the dreadful objects +which I had always before me, I resolved to be gone. + +I had made an acquaintance with a very sober, good sort of a woman, who +was a widow too, like me, but in better circumstances. Her husband had +been a captain of a merchant ship, and having had the misfortune to be +cast away coming home on a voyage from the West Indies, which would +have been very profitable if he had come safe, was so reduced by the +loss, that though he had saved his life then, it broke his heart, and +killed him afterwards; and his widow, being pursued by the creditors, +was forced to take shelter in the Mint. She soon made things up with +the help of friends, and was at liberty again; and finding that I +rather was there to be concealed, than by any particular prosecutions +and finding also that I agreed with her, or rather she with me, in a +just abhorrence of the place and of the company, she invited to go home +with her till I could put myself in some posture of settling in the +world to my mind; withal telling me, that it was ten to one but some +good captain of a ship might take a fancy to me, and court me, in that +part of the town where she lived. + +I accepted her offer, and was with her half a year, and should have +been longer, but in that interval what she proposed to me happened to +herself, and she married very much to her advantage. But whose fortune +soever was upon the increase, mine seemed to be upon the wane, and I +found nothing present, except two or three boatswains, or such fellows, +but as for the commanders, they were generally of two sorts: 1. Such +as, having good business, that is to say, a good ship, resolved not to +marry but with advantage, that is, with a good fortune; 2. Such as, +being out of employ, wanted a wife to help them to a ship; I mean (1) a +wife who, having some money, could enable them to hold, as they call +it, a good part of a ship themselves, so to encourage owners to come +in; or (2) a wife who, if she had not money, had friends who were +concerned in shipping, and so could help to put the young man into a +good ship, which to them is as good as a portion; and neither of these +was my case, so I looked like one that was to lie on hand. + +This knowledge I soon learned by experience, viz. that the state of +things was altered as to matrimony, and that I was not to expect at +London what I had found in the country: that marriages were here the +consequences of politic schemes for forming interests, and carrying on +business, and that Love had no share, or but very little, in the +matter. + +That as my sister-in-law at Colchester had said, beauty, wit, manners, +sense, good humour, good behaviour, education, virtue, piety, or any +other qualification, whether of body or mind, had no power to +recommend; that money only made a woman agreeable; that men chose +mistresses indeed by the gust of their affection, and it was requisite +to a whore to be handsome, well-shaped, have a good mien and a graceful +behaviour; but that for a wife, no deformity would shock the fancy, no +ill qualities the judgment; the money was the thing; the portion was +neither crooked nor monstrous, but the money was always agreeable, +whatever the wife was. + +On the other hand, as the market ran very unhappily on the men’s side, +I found the women had lost the privilege of saying No; that it was a +favour now for a woman to have the Question asked, and if any young +lady had so much arrogance as to counterfeit a negative, she never had +the opportunity given her of denying twice, much less of recovering +that false step, and accepting what she had but seemed to decline. The +men had such choice everywhere, that the case of the women was very +unhappy; for they seemed to ply at every door, and if the man was by +great chance refused at one house, he was sure to be received at the +next. + +Besides this, I observed that the men made no scruple to set themselves +out, and to go a-fortunehunting, as they call it, when they had really +no fortune themselves to demand it, or merit to deserve it; and that +they carried it so high, that a woman was scarce allowed to inquire +after the character or estate of the person that pretended to her. This +I had an example of, in a young lady in the next house to me, and with +whom I had contracted an intimacy; she was courted by a young captain, +and though she had near £2000 to her fortune, she did but inquire of +some of his neighbours about his character, his morals, or substance, +and he took occasion at the next visit to let her know, truly, that he +took it very ill, and that he should not give her the trouble of his +visits any more. I heard of it, and I had begun my acquaintance with +her, I went to see her upon it. She entered into a close conversation +with me about it, and unbosomed herself very freely. I perceived +presently that though she thought herself very ill used, yet she had no +power to resent it, and was exceedingly piqued that she had lost him, +and particularly that another of less fortune had gained him. + +I fortified her mind against such a meanness, as I called it; I told +her, that as low as I was in the world, I would have despised a man +that should think I ought to take him upon his own recommendation only, +without having the liberty to inform myself of his fortune and of his +character; also I told her, that as she had a good fortune, she had no +need to stoop to the disaster of the time; that it was enough that the +men could insult us that had but little money to recommend us, but if +she suffered such an affront to pass upon her without resenting it, she +would be rendered low-prized upon all occasions, and would be the +contempt of all the women in that part of the town; that a woman can +never want an opportunity to be revenged of a man that has used her +ill, and that there were ways enough to humble such a fellow as that, +or else certainly women were the most unhappy creatures in the world. + +I found she was very well pleased with the discourse, and she told me +seriously that she would be very glad to make him sensible of her just +resentment, and either to bring him on again, or have the satisfaction +of her revenge being as public as possible. + +I told her, that if she would take my advice, I would tell her how she +should obtain her wishes in both these things; and that I would engage +to bring the man to her door again, and make him beg to be let in. She +smiled at that, and plainly let me see, that if he came to her door, +her resentment was not so great as to give her leave to let him stand +long there. + +However, she listened very willingly to my offer of advice; so I told +her that the first thing she ought to do was a piece of justice to +herself, namely, that whereas she had been told by several people that +he had reported among the ladies that he had left her, and pretended to +give the advantage of the negative to himself, she should take care to +have it well spread among the women—which she could not fail of an +opportunity to do in a neighbourhood so addicted to family news as that +she live in was—that she had inquired into his circumstances, and found +he was not the man as to estate he pretended to be. “Let them be told, +madam,” said I, “that you had been well informed that he was not the +man that you expected, and that you thought it was not safe to meddle +with him; that you heard he was of an ill temper, and that he boasted +how he had used the women ill upon many occasions, and that +particularly he was debauched in his morals”, etc. The last of which, +indeed, had some truth in it; but at the same time I did not find that +she seemed to like him much the worse for that part. + +As I had put this into her head, she came most readily into it. +Immediately she went to work to find instruments, and she had very +little difficulty in the search, for telling her story in general to a +couple of gossips in the neighbourhood, it was the chat of the +tea-table all over that part of the town, and I met with it wherever I +visited; also, as it was known that I was acquainted with the young +lady herself, my opinion was asked very often, and I confirmed it with +all the necessary aggravations, and set out his character in the +blackest colours; but then as a piece of secret intelligence, I added, +as what the other gossips knew nothing of, viz. that I had heard he was +in very bad circumstances; that he was under a necessity of a fortune +to support his interest with the owners of the ship he commanded; that +his own part was not paid for, and if it was not paid quickly, his +owners would put him out of the ship, and his chief mate was likely to +command it, who offered to buy that part which the captain had promised +to take. + +I added, for I confess I was heartily piqued at the rogue, as I called +him, that I had heard a rumour, too, that he had a wife alive at +Plymouth, and another in the West Indies, a thing which they all knew +was not very uncommon for such kind of gentlemen. + +This worked as we both desire it, for presently the young lady next +door, who had a father and mother that governed both her and her +fortune, was shut up, and her father forbid him the house. Also in one +place more where he went, the woman had the courage, however strange it +was, to say No; and he could try nowhere but he was reproached with his +pride, and that he pretended not to give the women leave to inquire +into his character, and the like. + +Well, by this time he began to be sensible of his mistake; and having +alarmed all the women on that side of the water, he went over to +Ratcliff, and got access to some of the ladies there; but though the +young women there too were, according to the fate of the day, pretty +willing to be asked, yet such was his ill-luck, that his character +followed him over the water and his good name was much the same there +as it was on our side; so that though he might have had wives enough, +yet it did not happen among the women that had good fortunes, which was +what he wanted. + +But this was not all; she very ingeniously managed another thing +herself, for she got a young gentleman, who as a relation, and was +indeed a married man, to come and visit her two or three times a week +in a very fine chariot and good liveries, and her two agents, and I +also, presently spread a report all over, that this gentleman came to +court her; that he was a gentleman of a £1000 a year, and that he was +fallen in love with her, and that she was going to her aunt’s in the +city, because it was inconvenient for the gentleman to come to her with +his coach in Redriff, the streets being so narrow and difficult. + +This took immediately. The captain was laughed at in all companies, and +was ready to hang himself. He tried all the ways possible to come at +her again, and wrote the most passionate letters to her in the world, +excusing his former rashness; and in short, by great application, +obtained leave to wait on her again, as he said, to clear his +reputation. + +At this meeting she had her full revenge of him; for she told him she +wondered what he took her to be, that she should admit any man to a +treaty of so much consequence as that to marriage, without inquiring +very well into his circumstances; that if he thought she was to be +huffed into wedlock, and that she was in the same circumstances which +her neighbours might be in, viz. to take up with the first good +Christian that came, he was mistaken; that, in a word, his character +was really bad, or he was very ill beholden to his neighbours; and that +unless he could clear up some points, in which she had justly been +prejudiced, she had no more to say to him, but to do herself justice, +and give him the satisfaction of knowing that she was not afraid to say +No, either to him or any man else. + +With that she told him what she had heard, or rather raised herself by +my means, of his character; his not having paid for the part he +pretended to own of the ship he commanded; of the resolution of his +owners to put him out of the command, and to put his mate in his stead; +and of the scandal raised on his morals; his having been reproached +with such-and-such women, and having a wife at Plymouth and in the West +Indies, and the like; and she asked him whether he could deny that she +had good reason, if these things were not cleared up, to refuse him, +and in the meantime to insist upon having satisfaction in points to +significant as they were. + +He was so confounded at her discourse that he could not answer a word, +and she almost began to believe that all was true, by his disorder, +though at the same time she knew that she had been the raiser of all +those reports herself. + +After some time he recovered himself a little, and from that time +became the most humble, the most modest, and most importunate man alive +in his courtship. + +She carried her jest on a great way. She asked him, if he thought she +was so at her last shift that she could or ought to bear such +treatment, and if he did not see that she did not want those who +thought it worth their while to come farther to her than he did; +meaning the gentleman whom she had brought to visit her by way of sham. + +She brought him by these tricks to submit to all possible measures to +satisfy her, as well of his circumstances as of his behaviour. He +brought her undeniable evidence of his having paid for his part of the +ship; he brought her certificates from his owners, that the report of +their intending to remove him from the command of the ship and put his +chief mate in was false and groundless; in short, he was quite the +reverse of what he was before. + +Thus I convinced her, that if the men made their advantage of our sex +in the affair of marriage, upon the supposition of there being such +choice to be had, and of the women being so easy, it was only owing to +this, that the women wanted courage to maintain their ground and to +play their part; and that, according to my Lord Rochester, + +“A woman’s ne’er so ruined but she can +Revenge herself on her undoer, Man.” + + +After these things this young lady played her part so well, that though +she resolved to have him, and that indeed having him was the main bent +of her design, yet she made his obtaining her be to him the most +difficult thing in the world; and this she did, not by a haughty +reserved carriage, but by a just policy, turning the tables upon him, +and playing back upon him his own game; for as he pretended, by a kind +of lofty carriage, to place himself above the occasion of a character, +and to make inquiring into his character a kind of an affront to him, +she broke with him upon that subject, and at the same time that she +make him submit to all possible inquiry after his affairs, she +apparently shut the door against his looking into her own. + +It was enough to him to obtain her for a wife. As to what she had, she +told him plainly, that as he knew her circumstances, it was but just +she should know his; and though at the same time he had only known her +circumstances by common fame, yet he had made so many protestations of +his passion for her, that he could ask no more but her hand to his +grand request, and the like ramble according to the custom of lovers. +In short, he left himself no room to ask any more questions about her +estate, and she took the advantage of it like a prudent woman, for she +placed part of her fortune so in trustees, without letting him know +anything of it, that it was quite out of his reach, and made him be +very well content with the rest. + +It is true she was pretty well besides, that is to say, she had about +£1400 in money, which she gave him; and the other, after some time, she +brought to light as a perquisite to herself, which he was to accept as +a mighty favour, seeing though it was not to be his, it might ease him +in the article of her particular expenses; and I must add, that by this +conduct the gentleman himself became not only the more humble in his +applications to her to obtain her, but also was much the more an +obliging husband to her when he had her. I cannot but remind the ladies +here how much they place themselves below the common station of a wife, +which, if I may be allowed not to be partial, is low enough already; I +say, they place themselves below their common station, and prepare +their own mortifications, by their submitting so to be insulted by the +men beforehand, which I confess I see no necessity of. + +This relation may serve, therefore, to let the ladies see that the +advantage is not so much on the other side as the men think it is; and +though it may be true that the men have but too much choice among us, +and that some women may be found who will dishonour themselves, be +cheap, and easy to come at, and will scarce wait to be asked, yet if +they will have women, as I may say, worth having, they may find them as +uncomeatable as ever and that those that are otherwise are a sort of +people that have such deficiencies, when had, as rather recommend the +ladies that are difficult than encourage the men to go on with their +easy courtship, and expect wives equally valuable that will come at +first call. + +Nothing is more certain than that the ladies always gain of the men by +keeping their ground, and letting their pretended lovers see they can +resent being slighted, and that they are not afraid of saying No. They, +I observe, insult us mightily with telling us of the number of women; +that the wars, and the sea, and trade, and other incidents have carried +the men so much away, that there is no proportion between the numbers +of the sexes, and therefore the women have the disadvantage; but I am +far from granting that the number of women is so great, or the number +of men so small; but if they will have me tell the truth, the +disadvantage of the women is a terrible scandal upon the men, and it +lies here, and here only; namely, that the age is so wicked, and the +sex so debauched, that, in short, the number of such men as an honest +woman ought to meddle with is small indeed, and it is but here and +there that a man is to be found who is fit for a woman to venture upon. + +But the consequence even of that too amounts to no more than this, that +women ought to be the more nice; for how do we know the just character +of the man that makes the offer? To say that the woman should be the +more easy on this occasion, is to say we should be the forwarder to +venture because of the greatness of the danger, which, in my way of +reasoning, is very absurd. + +On the contrary, the women have ten thousand times the more reason to +be wary and backward, by how much the hazard of being betrayed is the +greater; and would the ladies consider this, and act the wary part, +they would discover every cheat that offered; for, in short, the lives +of very few men nowadays will bear a character; and if the ladies do +but make a little inquiry, they will soon be able to distinguish the +men and deliver themselves. As for women that do not think their own +safety worth their thought, that, impatient of their perfect state, +resolve, as they call it, to take the first good Christian that comes, +that run into matrimony as a horse rushes into the battle, I can say +nothing to them but this, that they are a sort of ladies that are to be +prayed for among the rest of distempered people, and to me they look +like people that venture their whole estates in a lottery where there +is a hundred thousand blanks to one prize. + +No man of common-sense will value a woman the less for not giving up +herself at the first attack, or for accepting his proposal without +inquiring into his person or character; on the contrary, he must think +her the weakest of all creatures in the world, as the rate of men now +goes. In short, he must have a very contemptible opinion of her +capacities, nay, every of her understanding, that, having but one case +of her life, shall call that life away at once, and make matrimony, +like death, be a leap in the dark. + +I would fain have the conduct of my sex a little regulated in this +particular, which is the thing in which, of all the parts of life, I +think at this time we suffer most in; ’tis nothing but lack of courage, +the fear of not being married at all, and of that frightful state of +life called an old maid, of which I have a story to tell by itself. +This, I say, is the woman’s snare; but would the ladies once but get +above that fear and manage rightly, they would more certainly avoid it +by standing their ground, in a case so absolutely necessary to their +felicity, that by exposing themselves as they do; and if they did not +marry so soon as they may do otherwise, they would make themselves +amends by marrying safer. She is always married too soon who gets a bad +husband, and she is never married too late who gets a good one; in a +word, there is no woman, deformity or lost reputation excepted, but if +she manages well, may be married safely one time or other; but if she +precipitates herself, it is ten thousand to one but she is undone. + +But I come now to my own case, in which there was at this time no +little nicety. The circumstances I was in made the offer of a good +husband the most necessary thing in the world to me, but I found soon +that to be made cheap and easy was not the way. It soon began to be +found that the widow had no fortune, and to say this was to say all +that was ill of me, for I began to be dropped in all the discourses of +matrimony. Being well-bred, handsome, witty, modest, and agreeable; all +which I had allowed to my character—whether justly or no is not the +purpose—I say, all these would not do without the dross, which way now +become more valuable than virtue itself. In short, the widow, they +said, had no money. + +I resolved, therefore, as to the state of my present circumstances, +that it was absolutely necessary to change my station, and make a new +appearance in some other place where I was not known, and even to pass +by another name if I found occasion. + +I communicated my thoughts to my intimate friend, the captain’s lady, +whom I had so faithfully served in her case with the captain, and who +was as ready to serve me in the same kind as I could desire. I made no +scruple to lay my circumstances open to her; my stock was but low, for +I had made but about £540 at the close of my last affair, and I had +wasted some of that; however, I had about £460 left, a great many very +rich clothes, a gold watch, and some jewels, though of no extraordinary +value, and about £30 or £40 left in linen not disposed of. + +My dear and faithful friend, the captain’s wife, was so sensible of the +service I had done her in the affair above, that she was not only a +steady friend to me, but, knowing my circumstances, she frequently made +me presents as money came into her hands, such as fully amounted to a +maintenance, so that I spent none of my own; and at last she made this +unhappy proposal to me, viz. that as we had observed, as above, how the +men made no scruple to set themselves out as persons meriting a woman +of fortune, when they had really no fortune of their own, it was but +just to deal with them in their own way and, if it was possible, to +deceive the deceiver. + +The captain’s lady, in short, put this project into my head, and told +me if I would be ruled by her I should certainly get a husband of +fortune, without leaving him any room to reproach me with want of my +own. I told her, as I had reason to do, that I would give up myself +wholly to her directions, and that I would have neither tongue to speak +nor feet to step in that affair but as she should direct me, depending +that she would extricate me out of every difficulty she brought me +into, which she said she would answer for. + +The first step she put me upon was to call her cousin, and go to a +relation’s house of hers in the country, where she directed me, and +where she brought her husband to visit me; and calling me cousin, she +worked matters so about, that her husband and she together invited me +most passionately to come to town and be with them, for they now live +in a quite different place from where they were before. In the next +place, she tells her husband that I had at least £1500 fortune, and +that after some of my relations I was like to have a great deal more. + +It was enough to tell her husband this; there needed nothing on my +side. I was but to sit still and wait the event, for it presently went +all over the neighbourhood that the young widow at Captain ——’s was a +fortune, that she had at least £1500, and perhaps a great deal more, +and that the captain said so; and if the captain was asked at any time +about me, he made no scruple to affirm it, though he knew not one word +of the matter, other than that his wife had told him so; and in this he +thought no harm, for he really believed it to be so, because he had it +from his wife: so slender a foundation will those fellows build upon, +if they do but think there is a fortune in the game. With the +reputation of this fortune, I presently found myself blessed with +admirers enough, and that I had my choice of men, as scarce as they +said they were, which, by the way, confirms what I was saying before. +This being my case, I, who had a subtle game to play, had nothing now +to do but to single out from them all the properest man that might be +for my purpose; that is to say, the man who was most likely to depend +upon the hearsay of a fortune, and not inquire too far into the +particulars; and unless I did this I did nothing, for my case would not +bear much inquiry. + +I picked out my man without much difficulty, by the judgment I made of +his way of courting me. I had let him run on with his protestations and +oaths that he loved me above all the world; that if I would make him +happy, that was enough; all which I knew was upon supposition, nay, it +was upon a full satisfaction, that I was very rich, though I never told +him a word of it myself. + +This was my man; but I was to try him to the bottom, and indeed in that +consisted my safety; for if he baulked, I knew I was undone, as surely +as he was undone if he took me; and if I did not make some scruple +about his fortune, it was the way to lead him to raise some about mine; +and first, therefore, I pretended on all occasions to doubt his +sincerity, and told him, perhaps he only courted me for my fortune. He +stopped my mouth in that part with the thunder of his protestations, as +above, but still I pretended to doubt. + +One morning he pulls off his diamond ring, and writes upon the glass of +the sash in my chamber this line— + +“You I love, and you alone.” + + +I read it, and asked him to lend me his ring, with which I wrote under +it, thus— + +“And so in love says every one.” + + +He takes his ring again, and writes another line thus— + +“Virtue alone is an estate.” + + +I borrowed it again, and I wrote under it— + +“But money’s virtue, gold is fate.” + + +He coloured as red as fire to see me turn so quick upon him, and in a +kind of a rage told me he would conquer me, and writes again thus— + +“I scorn your gold, and yet I love.” + + +I ventured all upon the last cast of poetry, as you’ll see, for I wrote +boldly under his last— + +“I’m poor: let’s see how kind you’ll prove.” + + +This was a sad truth to me; whether he believed me or no, I could not +tell; I supposed then that he did not. However, he flew to me, took me +in his arms, and, kissing me very eagerly, and with the greatest +passion imaginable, he held me fast till he called for a pen and ink, +and then told me he could not wait the tedious writing on the glass, +but, pulling out a piece of paper, he began and wrote again— + +“Be mine, with all your poverty.” + + +I took his pen, and followed him immediately, thus— + +“Yet secretly you hope I lie.” + + +He told me that was unkind, because it was not just, and that I put him +upon contradicting me, which did not consist with good manners, any +more than with his affection; and therefore, since I had insensibly +drawn him into this poetical scribble, he begged I would not oblige him +to break it off; so he writes again— + +“Let love alone be our debate.” + + +I wrote again— + +“She loves enough that does not hate.” + + + +This he took for a favour, and so laid down the cudgels, that is to +say, the pen; I say, he took if for a favour, and a mighty one it was, +if he had known all. However, he took it as I meant it, that is, to let +him think I was inclined to go on with him, as indeed I had all the +reason in the world to do, for he was the best-humoured, merry sort of +a fellow that I ever met with, and I often reflected on myself how +doubly criminal it was to deceive such a man; but that necessity, which +pressed me to a settlement suitable to my condition, was my authority +for it; and certainly his affection to me, and the goodness of his +temper, however they might argue against using him ill, yet they +strongly argued to me that he would better take the disappointment than +some fiery-tempered wretch, who might have nothing to recommend him but +those passions which would serve only to make a woman miserable all her +days. + +Besides, though I jested with him (as he supposed it) so often about my +poverty, yet, when he found it to be true, he had foreclosed all manner +of objection, seeing, whether he was in jest or in earnest, he had +declared he took me without any regard to my portion, and, whether I +was in jest or in earnest, I had declared myself to be very poor; so +that, in a word, I had him fast both ways; and though he might say +afterwards he was cheated, yet he could never say that I had cheated +him. + +He pursued me close after this, and as I saw there was no need to fear +losing him, I played the indifferent part with him longer than prudence +might otherwise have dictated to me. But I considered how much this +caution and indifference would give me the advantage over him, when I +should come to be under the necessity of owning my own circumstances to +him; and I managed it the more warily, because I found he inferred from +thence, as indeed he ought to do, that I either had the more money or +the more judgment, and would not venture at all. + +I took the freedom one day, after we had talked pretty close to the +subject, to tell him that it was true I had received the compliment of +a lover from him, namely, that he would take me without inquiring into +my fortune, and I would make him a suitable return in this, viz. that I +would make as little inquiry into his as consisted with reason, but I +hoped he would allow me to ask a few questions, which he would answer +or not as he thought fit; and that I would not be offended if he did +not answer me at all; one of these questions related to our manner of +living, and the place where, because I had heard he had a great +plantation in Virginia, and that he had talked of going to live there, +and I told him I did not care to be transported. + +He began from this discourse to let me voluntarily into all his +affairs, and to tell me in a frank, open way all his circumstances, by +which I found he was very well to pass in the world; but that great +part of his estate consisted of three plantations, which he had in +Virginia, which brought him in a very good income, generally speaking, +to the tune of £300, a year, but that if he was to live upon them, +would bring him in four times as much. “Very well,” thought I; “you +shall carry me thither as soon as you please, though I won’t tell you +so beforehand.” + +I jested with him extremely about the figure he would make in Virginia; +but I found he would do anything I desired, though he did not seem glad +to have me undervalue his plantations, so I turned my tale. I told him +I had good reason not to go there to live, because if his plantations +were worth so much there, I had not a fortune suitable to a gentleman +of £1200 a year, as he said his estate would be. + +He replied generously, he did not ask what my fortune was; he had told +me from the beginning he would not, and he would be as good as his +word; but whatever it was, he assured me he would never desire me to go +to Virginia with him, or go thither himself without me, unless I was +perfectly willing, and made it my choice. + +All this, you may be sure, was as I wished, and indeed nothing could +have happened more perfectly agreeable. I carried it on as far as this +with a sort of indifferency that he often wondered at, more than at +first, but which was the only support of his courtship; and I mention +it the rather to intimate again to the ladies that nothing but want of +courage for such an indifferency makes our sex so cheap, and prepares +them to be ill-used as they are; would they venture the loss of a +pretending fop now and then, who carries it high upon the point of his +own merit, they would certainly be less slighted, and courted more. Had +I discovered really and truly what my great fortune was, and that in +all I had not full £500 when he expected £1500, yet I had hooked him so +fast, and played him so long, that I was satisfied he would have had me +in my worst circumstances; and indeed it was less a surprise to him +when he learned the truth than it would have been, because having not +the least blame to lay on me, who had carried it with an air of +indifference to the last, he would not say one word, except that indeed +he thought it had been more, but that if it had been less he did not +repent his bargain; only that he should not be able to maintain me so +well as he intended. + +In short, we were married, and very happily married on my side, I +assure you, as to the man; for he was the best-humoured man that every +woman had, but his circumstances were not so good as I imagined, as, on +the other hand, he had not bettered himself by marrying so much as he +expected. + +When we were married, I was shrewdly put to it to bring him that little +stock I had, and to let him see it was no more; but there was a +necessity for it, so I took my opportunity one day when we were alone, +to enter into a short dialogue with him about it. “My dear,” said I, +“we have been married a fortnight; is it not time to let you know +whether you have got a wife with something or with nothing?” “Your own +time for that, my dear,” says he; “I am satisfied that I have got the +wife I love; I have not troubled you much,” says he, “with my inquiry +after it.” + +“That’s true,” says I, “but I have a great difficulty upon me about it, +which I scarce know how to manage.” + +“What’s that, my dear?” says he. + +“Why,” says I, “’tis a little hard upon me, and ’tis harder upon you. I +am told that Captain ——” (meaning my friend’s husband) “has told you I +had a great deal more money than I ever pretended to have, and I am +sure I never employed him to do so.” + +“Well,” says he, “Captain —— may have told me so, but what then? If you +have not so much, that may lie at his door, but you never told me what +you had, so I have no reason to blame you if you have nothing at all.” + +“That’s is so just,” said I, “and so generous, that it makes my having +but a little a double affliction to me.” + +“The less you have, my dear,” says he, “the worse for us both; but I +hope your affliction you speak of is not caused for fear I should be +unkind to you, for want of a portion. No, no, if you have nothing, tell +me plainly, and at once; I may perhaps tell the captain he has cheated +me, but I can never say you have cheated me, for did you not give it +under your hand that you were poor? and so I ought to expect you to +be.” + +“Well,” said I, “my dear, I am glad I have not been concerned in +deceiving you before marriage. If I deceive you since, ’tis ne’er the +worse; that I am poor is too true, but not so poor as to have nothing +neither”; so I pulled out some bank bills, and gave him about £160. +“There’s something, my dear,” said I, “and not quite all neither.” + +I had brought him so near to expecting nothing, by what I had said +before, that the money, though the sum was small in itself, was doubly +welcome to him; he owned it was more than he looked for, and that he +did not question by my discourse to him, but that my fine clothes, gold +watch, and a diamond ring or two, had been all my fortune. + +I let him please himself with that £160 two or three days, and then, +having been abroad that day, and as if I had been to fetch it, I +brought him £100 more home in gold, and told him there was a little +more portion for him; and, in short, in about a week more I brought him +£180 more, and about £60 in linen, which I made him believe I had been +obliged to take with the £100 which I gave him in gold, as a +composition for a debt of £600, being little more than five shillings +in the pound, and overvalued too. + +“And now, my dear,” says I to him, “I am very sorry to tell you, that +there is all, and that I have given you my whole fortune.” I added, +that if the person who had my £600 had not abused me, I had been worth +£1000 to him, but that as it was, I had been faithful to him, and +reserved nothing to myself, but if it had been more he should have had +it. + +He was so obliged by the manner, and so pleased with the sum, for he +had been in a terrible fright lest it had been nothing at all, that he +accepted it very thankfully. And thus I got over the fraud of passing +for a fortune without money, and cheating a man into marrying me on +pretence of a fortune; which, by the way, I take to be one of the most +dangerous steps a woman can take, and in which she runs the most hazard +of being ill-used afterwards. + +My husband, to give him his due, was a man of infinite good nature, but +he was no fool; and finding his income not suited to the manner of +living which he had intended, if I had brought him what he expected, +and being under a disappointment in his return of his plantations in +Virginia, he discovered many times his inclination of going over to +Virginia, to live upon his own; and often would be magnifying the way +of living there, how cheap, how plentiful, how pleasant, and the like. + +I began presently to understand this meaning, and I took him up very +plainly one morning, and told him that I did so; that I found his +estate turned to no account at this distance, compared to what it would +do if he lived upon the spot, and that I found he had a mind to go and +live there; and I added, that I was sensible he had been disappointed +in a wife, and that finding his expectations not answered that way, I +could do no less, to make him amends, than tell him that I was very +willing to go over to Virginia with him and live there. + +He said a thousand kind things to me upon the subject of my making such +a proposal to him. He told me, that however he was disappointed in his +expectations of a fortune, he was not disappointed in a wife, and that +I was all to him that a wife could be, and he was more than satisfied +on the whole when the particulars were put together, but that this +offer was so kind, that it was more than he could express. + +To bring the story short, we agreed to go. He told me that he had a +very good house there, that it was well furnished, that his mother was +alive and lived in it, and one sister, which was all the relations he +had; that as soon as he came there, his mother would remove to another +house, which was her own for life, and his after her decease; so that I +should have all the house to myself; and I found all this to be exactly +as he had said. + +To make this part of the story short, we put on board the ship which we +went in, a large quantity of good furniture for our house, with stores +of linen and other necessaries, and a good cargo for sale, and away we +went. + +To give an account of the manner of our voyage, which was long and full +of dangers, is out of my way; I kept no journal, neither did my +husband. All that I can say is, that after a terrible passage, frighted +twice with dreadful storms, and once with what was still more terrible, +I mean a pirate who came on board and took away almost all our +provisions; and which would have been beyond all to me, they had once +taken my husband to go along with them, but by entreaties were +prevailed with to leave him;—I say, after all these terrible things, we +arrived in York River in Virginia, and coming to our plantation, we +were received with all the demonstrations of tenderness and affection, +by my husband’s mother, that were possible to be expressed. + +We lived here all together, my mother-in-law, at my entreaty, +continuing in the house, for she was too kind a mother to be parted +with; my husband likewise continued the same as at first, and I thought +myself the happiest creature alive, when an odd and surprising event +put an end to all that felicity in a moment, and rendered my condition +the most uncomfortable, if not the most miserable, in the world. + +My mother was a mighty cheerful, good-humoured old woman—I may call her +old woman, for her son was above thirty; I say she was very pleasant, +good company, and used to entertain me, in particular, with abundance +of stories to divert me, as well of the country we were in as of the +people. + +Among the rest, she often told me how the greatest part of the +inhabitants of the colony came thither in very indifferent +circumstances from England; that, generally speaking, they were of two +sorts; either, first, such as were brought over by masters of ships to +be sold as servants. “Such as we call them, my dear,” says she, “but +they are more properly called slaves.” Or, secondly, such as are +transported from Newgate and other prisons, after having been found +guilty of felony and other crimes punishable with death. + +“When they come here,” says she, “we make no difference; the planters +buy them, and they work together in the field till their time is out. +When ’tis expired,” said she, “they have encouragement given them to +plant for themselves; for they have a certain number of acres of land +allotted them by the country, and they go to work to clear and cure the +land, and then to plant it with tobacco and corn for their own use; and +as the tradesmen and merchants will trust them with tools and clothes +and other necessaries, upon the credit of their crop before it is +grown, so they again plant every year a little more than the year +before, and so buy whatever they want with the crop that is before +them. + +“Hence, child,” says she, “man a Newgate-bird becomes a great man, and +we have,” continued she, “several justices of the peace, officers of +the trained bands, and magistrates of the towns they live in, that have +been burnt in the hand.” + +She was going on with that part of the story, when her own part in it +interrupted her, and with a great deal of good-humoured confidence she +told me she was one of the second sort of inhabitants herself; that she +came away openly, having ventured too far in a particular case, so that +she was become a criminal. “And here’s the mark of it, child,” says +she; and, pulling off her glove, “look ye here,” says she, turning up +the palm of her hand, and showed me a very fine white arm and hand, but +branded in the inside of the hand, as in such cases it must be. + +This story was very moving to me, but my mother, smiling, said, “You +need not think a thing strange, daughter, for as I told you, some of +the best men in this country are burnt in the hand, and they are not +ashamed to own it. There’s Major ——,” says she, “he was an eminent +pickpocket; there’s Justice Ba——r, was a shoplifter, and both of them +were burnt in the hand; and I could name you several such as they are.” + +We had frequent discourses of this kind, and abundance of instances she +gave me of the like. After some time, as she was telling some stories +of one that was transported but a few weeks ago, I began in an intimate +kind of way to ask her to tell me something of her own story, which she +did with the utmost plainness and sincerity; how she had fallen into +very ill company in London in her young days, occasioned by her mother +sending her frequently to carry victuals and other relief to a +kinswoman of hers who was a prisoner in Newgate, and who lay in a +miserable starving condition, was afterwards condemned to be hanged, +but having got respite by pleading her belly, dies afterwards in the +prison. + +Here my mother-in-law ran out in a long account of the wicked practices +in that dreadful place, and how it ruined more young people than all +the town besides. “And child,” says my mother, “perhaps you may know +little of it, or, it may be, have heard nothing about it; but depend +upon it,” says she, “we all know here that there are more thieves and +rogues made by that one prison of Newgate than by all the clubs and +societies of villains in the nation; ’tis that cursed place,” says my +mother, “that half peopled this colony.” + +Here she went on with her own story so long, and in so particular a +manner, that I began to be very uneasy; but coming to one particular +that required telling her name, I thought I should have sunk down in +the place. She perceived I was out of order, and asked me if I was not +well, and what ailed me. I told her I was so affected with the +melancholy story she had told, and the terrible things she had gone +through, that it had overcome me, and I begged of her to talk no more +of it. “Why, my dear,” says she very kindly, “what need these things +trouble you? These passages were long before your time, and they give +me no trouble at all now; nay, I look back on them with a particular +satisfaction, as they have been a means to bring me to this place.” +Then she went on to tell me how she very luckily fell into a good +family, where, behaving herself well, and her mistress dying, her +master married her, by whom she had my husband and his sister, and that +by her diligence and good management after her husband’s death, she had +improved the plantations to such a degree as they then were, so that +most of the estate was of her getting, not her husband’s, for she had +been a widow upwards of sixteen years. + +I heard this part of the story with very little attention, because I +wanted much to retire and give vent to my passions, which I did soon +after; and let any one judge what must be the anguish of my mind, when +I came to reflect that this was certainly no more or less than my own +mother, and I had now had two children, and was big with another by my +own brother, and lay with him still every night. + +I was now the most unhappy of all women in the world. Oh! had the story +never been told me, all had been well; it had been no crime to have +lain with my husband, since as to his being my relation I had known +nothing of it. + +I had now such a load on my mind that it kept me perpetually waking; to +reveal it, which would have been some ease to me, I could not find +would be to any purpose, and yet to conceal it would be next to +impossible; nay, I did not doubt but I should talk of it in my sleep, +and tell my husband of it whether I would or no. If I discovered it, +the least thing I could expect was to lose my husband, for he was too +nice and too honest a man to have continued my husband after he had +known I had been his sister; so that I was perplexed to the last +degree. + +I leave it to any man to judge what difficulties presented to my view. +I was away from my native country, at a distance prodigious, and the +return to me unpassable. I lived very well, but in a circumstance +insufferable in itself. If I had discovered myself to my mother, it +might be difficult to convince her of the particulars, and I had no way +to prove them. On the other hand, if she had questioned or doubted me, +I had been undone, for the bare suggestion would have immediately +separated me from my husband, without gaining my mother or him, who +would have been neither a husband nor a brother; so that between the +surprise on one hand, and the uncertainty on the other, I had been sure +to be undone. + +In the meantime, as I was but too sure of the fact, I lived therefore +in open avowed incest and whoredom, and all under the appearance of an +honest wife; and though I was not much touched with the crime of it, +yet the action had something in it shocking to nature, and made my +husband, as he thought himself, even nauseous to me. + +However, upon the most sedate consideration, I resolved that it was +absolutely necessary to conceal it all and not make the least discovery +of it either to mother or husband; and thus I lived with the greatest +pressure imaginable for three years more, but had no more children. + +During this time my mother used to be frequently telling me old stories +of her former adventures, which, however, were no ways pleasant to me; +for by it, though she did not tell it me in plain terms, yet I could +easily understand, joined with what I had heard myself, of my first +tutors, that in her younger days she had been both whore and thief; but +I verily believed she had lived to repent sincerely of both, and that +she was then a very pious, sober, and religious woman. + +Well, let her life have been what it would then, it was certain that my +life was very uneasy to me; for I lived, as I have said, but in the +worst sort of whoredom, and as I could expect no good of it, so really +no good issue came of it, and all my seeming prosperity wore off, and +ended in misery and destruction. It was some time, indeed, before it +came to this, for, but I know not by what ill fate guided, everything +went wrong with us afterwards, and that which was worse, my husband +grew strangely altered, forward, jealous, and unkind, and I was as +impatient of bearing his carriage, as the carriage was unreasonable and +unjust. These things proceeded so far, that we came at last to be in +such ill terms with one another, that I claimed a promise of him, which +he entered willingly into with me when I consented to come from England +with him, viz. that if I found the country not to agree with me, or +that I did not like to live there, I should come away to England again +when I pleased, giving him a year’s warning to settle his affairs. + +I say, I now claimed this promise of him, and I must confess I did it +not in the most obliging terms that could be in the world neither; but +I insisted that he treated me ill, that I was remote from my friends, +and could do myself no justice, and that he was jealous without cause, +my conversation having been unblamable, and he having no pretense for +it, and that to remove to England would take away all occasion from +him. + +I insisted so peremptorily upon it, that he could not avoid coming to a +point, either to keep his word with me or to break it; and this, +notwithstanding he used all the skill he was master of, and employed +his mother and other agents to prevail with me to alter my resolutions; +indeed, the bottom of the thing lay at my heart, and that made all his +endeavours fruitless, for my heart was alienated from him as a husband. +I loathed the thoughts of bedding with him, and used a thousand +pretenses of illness and humour to prevent his touching me, fearing +nothing more than to be with child by him, which to be sure would have +prevented, or at least delayed, my going over to England. + +However, at last I put him so out of humour, that he took up a rash and +fatal resolution; in short, I should not go to England; and though he +had promised me, yet it was an unreasonable thing for me to desire it; +that it would be ruinous to his affairs, would unhinge his whole +family, and be next to an undoing him in the world; that therefore I +ought not to desire it of him, and that no wife in the world that +valued her family and her husband’s prosperity would insist upon such a +thing. + +This plunged me again, for when I considered the thing calmly, and took +my husband as he really was, a diligent, careful man in the main work +of laying up an estate for his children, and that he knew nothing of +the dreadful circumstances that he was in, I could not but confess to +myself that my proposal was very unreasonable, and what no wife that +had the good of her family at heart would have desired. + +But my discontents were of another nature; I looked upon him no longer +as a husband, but as a near relation, the son of my own mother, and I +resolved somehow or other to be clear of him, but which way I did not +know, nor did it seem possible. + +It is said by the ill-natured world, of our sex, that if we are set on +a thing, it is impossible to turn us from our resolutions; in short, I +never ceased poring upon the means to bring to pass my voyage, and came +that length with my husband at last, as to propose going without him. +This provoked him to the last degree, and he called me not only an +unkind wife, but an unnatural mother, and asked me how I could +entertain such a thought without horror, as that of leaving my two +children (for one was dead) without a mother, and to be brought up by +strangers, and never to see them more. It was true, had things been +right, I should not have done it, but now it was my real desire never +to see them, or him either, any more; and as to the charge of +unnatural, I could easily answer it to myself, while I knew that the +whole relation was unnatural in the highest degree in the world. + +However, it was plain there was no bringing my husband to anything; he +would neither go with me nor let me go without him, and it was quite +out of my power to stir without his consent, as any one that knows the +constitution of the country I was in, knows very well. + +We had many family quarrels about it, and they began in time to grow up +to a dangerous height; for as I was quite estranged from my husband (as +he was called) in affection, so I took no heed to my words, but +sometimes gave him language that was provoking; and, in short, strove +all I could to bring him to a parting with me, which was what above all +things in the world I desired most. + +He took my carriage very ill, and indeed he might well do so, for at +last I refused to bed with him, and carrying on the breach upon all +occasions to extremity, he told me once he thought I was mad, and if I +did not alter my conduct, he would put me under cure; that is to say, +into a madhouse. I told him he should find I was far enough from mad, +and that it was not in his power, or any other villain’s, to murder me. +I confess at the same time I was heartily frighted at his thoughts of +putting me into a madhouse, which would at once have destroyed all the +possibility of breaking the truth out, whatever the occasion might be; +for that then no one would have given credit to a word of it. + +This therefore brought me to a resolution, whatever came of it, to lay +open my whole case; but which way to do it, or to whom, was an +inextricable difficulty, and took me many months to resolve. In the +meantime, another quarrel with my husband happened, which came up to +such a mad extreme as almost pushed me on to tell it him all to his +face; but though I kept it in so as not to come to the particulars, I +spoke so much as put him into the utmost confusion, and in the end +brought out the whole story. + +He began with a calm expostulation upon my being so resolute to go to +England; I defended it, and one hard word bringing on another, as is +usual in all family strife, he told me I did not treat him as if he was +my husband, or talk of my children as if I was a mother; and, in short, +that I did not deserve to be used as a wife; that he had used all the +fair means possible with me; that he had argued with all the kindness +and calmness that a husband or a Christian ought to do, and that I made +him such a vile return, that I treated him rather like a dog than a +man, and rather like the most contemptible stranger than a husband; +that he was very loth to use violence with me, but that, in short, he +saw a necessity of it now, and that for the future he should be obliged +to take such measures as should reduce me to my duty. + +My blood was now fired to the utmost, though I knew what he had said +was very true, and nothing could appear more provoked. I told him, for +his fair means and his foul, they were equally contemned by me; that +for my going to England, I was resolved on it, come what would; and +that as to treating him not like a husband, and not showing myself a +mother to my children, there might be something more in it than he +understood at present; but, for his further consideration, I thought +fit to tell him thus much, that he neither was my lawful husband, nor +they lawful children, and that I had reason to regard neither of them +more than I did. + +I confess I was moved to pity him when I spoke it, for he turned pale +as death, and stood mute as one thunderstruck, and once or twice I +thought he would have fainted; in short, it put him in a fit something +like an apoplex; he trembled, a sweat or dew ran off his face, and yet +he was cold as a clod, so that I was forced to run and fetch something +for him to keep life in him. When he recovered of that, he grew sick +and vomited, and in a little after was put to bed, and the next morning +was, as he had been indeed all night, in a violent fever. + +However, it went off again, and he recovered, though but slowly, and +when he came to be a little better, he told me I had given him a mortal +wound with my tongue, and he had only one thing to ask before he +desired an explanation. I interrupted him, and told him I was sorry I +had gone so far, since I saw what disorder it put him into, but I +desired him not to talk to me of explanations, for that would but make +things worse. + +This heightened his impatience, and, indeed, perplexed him beyond all +bearing; for now he began to suspect that there was some mystery yet +unfolded, but could not make the least guess at the real particulars of +it; all that ran in his brain was, that I had another husband alive, +which I could not say in fact might not be true, but I assured him, +however, there was not the least of that in it; and indeed, as to my +other husband, he was effectually dead in law to me, and had told me I +should look on him as such, so I had not the least uneasiness on that +score. + +But now I found the thing too far gone to conceal it much longer, and +my husband himself gave me an opportunity to ease myself of the secret, +much to my satisfaction. He had laboured with me three or four weeks, +but to no purpose, only to tell him whether I had spoken these words +only as the effect of my passion, to put him in a passion, or whether +there was anything of truth in the bottom of them. But I continued +inflexible, and would explain nothing, unless he would first consent to +my going to England, which he would never do, he said, while he lived; +on the other hand, I said it was in my power to make him willing when I +pleased—nay, to make him entreat me to go; and this increased his +curiosity, and made him importunate to the highest degree, but it was +all to no purpose. + +At length he tells all this story to his mother, and sets her upon me +to get the main secret out of me, and she used her utmost skill with me +indeed; but I put her to a full stop at once by telling her that the +reason and mystery of the whole matter lay in herself, and that it was +my respect to her that had made me conceal it; and that, in short, I +could go no farther, and therefore conjured her not to insist upon it. + +She was struck dumb at this suggestion, and could not tell what to say +or to think; but, laying aside the supposition as a policy of mine, +continued her importunity on account of her son, and, if possible, to +make up the breach between us two. As to that, I told her that it was +indeed a good design in her, but that it was impossible to be done; and +that if I should reveal to her the truth of what she desired, she would +grant it to be impossible, and cease to desire it. At last I seemed to +be prevailed on by her importunity, and told her I dared trust her with +a secret of the greatest importance, and she would soon see that this +was so, and that I would consent to lodge it in her breast, if she +would engage solemnly not to acquaint her son with it without my +consent. + +She was long in promising this part, but rather than not come at the +main secret, she agreed to that too, and after a great many other +preliminaries, I began, and told her the whole story. First I told her +how much she was concerned in all the unhappy breach which had happened +between her son and me, by telling me her own story and her London +name; and that the surprise she saw I was in was upon that occasion. +Then I told her my own story, and my name, and assured her, by such +other tokens as she could not deny, that I was no other, nor more or +less, than her own child, her daughter, born of her body in Newgate; +the same that had saved her from the gallows by being in her belly, and +the same that she left in such-and-such hands when she was transported. + +It is impossible to express the astonishment she was in; she was not +inclined to believe the story, or to remember the particulars, for she +immediately foresaw the confusion that must follow in the family upon +it. But everything concurred so exactly with the stories she had told +me of herself, and which, if she had not told me, she would perhaps +have been content to have denied, that she had stopped her own mouth, +and she had nothing to do but to take me about the neck and kiss me, +and cry most vehemently over me, without speaking one word for a long +time together. At last she broke out: “Unhappy child!” says she, “what +miserable chance could bring thee hither? and in the arms of my own +son, too! Dreadful girl,” says she, “why, we are all undone! Married to +thy own brother! Three children, and two alive, all of the same flesh +and blood! My son and my daughter lying together as husband and wife! +All confusion and distraction for ever! Miserable family! what will +become of us? What is to be said? What is to be done?” And thus she ran +on for a great while; nor had I any power to speak, or if I had, did I +know what to say, for every word wounded me to the soul. With this kind +of amazement on our thoughts we parted for the first time, though my +mother was more surprised than I was, because it was more news to her +than to me. However, she promised again to me at parting, that she +would say nothing of it to her son, till we had talked of it again. + +It was not long, you may be sure, before we had a second conference +upon the same subject; when, as if she had been willing to forget the +story she had told me of herself, or to suppose that I had forgot some +of the particulars, she began to tell them with alterations and +omissions; but I refreshed her memory and set her to rights in many +things which I supposed she had forgot, and then came in so opportunely +with the whole history, that it was impossible for her to go from it; +and then she fell into her rhapsodies again, and exclamations at the +severity of her misfortunes. When these things were a little over with +her, we fell into a close debate about what should be first done before +we gave an account of the matter to my husband. But to what purpose +could be all our consultations? We could neither of us see our way +through it, nor see how it could be safe to open such a scene to him. +It was impossible to make any judgment, or give any guess at what +temper he would receive it in, or what measures he would take upon it; +and if he should have so little government of himself as to make it +public, we easily foresaw that it would be the ruin of the whole +family, and expose my mother and me to the last degree; and if at last +he should take the advantage the law would give him, he might put me +away with disdain and leave me to sue for the little portion that I +had, and perhaps waste it all in the suit, and then be a beggar; the +children would be ruined too, having no legal claim to any of his +effects; and thus I should see him, perhaps, in the arms of another +wife in a few months, and be myself the most miserable creature alive. + +My mother was as sensible of this as I; and, upon the whole, we knew +not what to do. After some time we came to more sober resolutions, but +then it was with this misfortune too, that my mother’s opinion and mine +were quite different from one another, and indeed inconsistent with one +another; for my mother’s opinion was, that I should bury the whole +thing entirely, and continue to live with him as my husband till some +other event should make the discovery of it more convenient; and that +in the meantime she would endeavour to reconcile us together again, and +restore our mutual comfort and family peace; that we might lie as we +used to do together, and so let the whole matter remain a secret as +close as death. “For, child,” says she, “we are both undone if it comes +out.” + +To encourage me to this, she promised to make me easy in my +circumstances, as far as she was able, and to leave me what she could +at her death, secured for me separately from my husband; so that if it +should come out afterwards, I should not be left destitute, but be able +to stand on my own feet and procure justice from him. + +This proposal did not agree at all with my judgment of the thing, +though it was very fair and kind in my mother; but my thoughts ran +quite another way. + +As to keeping the thing in our own breasts, and letting it all remain +as it was, I told her it was impossible; and I asked her how she could +think I could bear the thoughts of lying with my own brother. In the +next place, I told her that her being alive was the only support of the +discovery, and that while she owned me for her child, and saw reason to +be satisfied that I was so, nobody else would doubt it; but that if she +should die before the discovery, I should be taken for an impudent +creature that had forged such a thing to go away from my husband, or +should be counted crazed and distracted. Then I told her how he had +threatened already to put me into a madhouse, and what concern I had +been in about it, and how that was the thing that drove me to the +necessity of discovering it to her as I had done. + +From all which I told her, that I had, on the most serious reflections +I was able to make in the case, come to this resolution, which I hoped +she would like, as a medium between both, viz. that she should use her +endeavours with her son to give me leave to go to England, as I had +desired, and to furnish me with a sufficient sum of money, either in +goods along with me, or in bills for my support there, all along +suggesting that he might one time or other think it proper to come over +to me. + +That when I was gone, she should then, in cold blood, and after first +obliging him in the solemnest manner possible to secrecy, discover the +case to him, doing it gradually, and as her own discretion should guide +her, so that he might not be surprised with it, and fly out into any +passions and excesses on my account, or on hers; and that she should +concern herself to prevent his slighting the children, or marrying +again, unless he had a certain account of my being dead. + +This was my scheme, and my reasons were good; I was really alienated +from him in the consequences of these things; indeed, I mortally hated +him as a husband, and it was impossible to remove that riveted aversion +I had to him. At the same time, it being an unlawful, incestuous +living, added to that aversion, and though I had no great concern about +it in point of conscience, yet everything added to make cohabiting with +him the most nauseous thing to me in the world; and I think verily it +was come to such a height, that I could almost as willingly have +embraced a dog as have let him offer anything of that kind to me, for +which reason I could not bear the thoughts of coming between the sheets +with him. I cannot say that I was right in point of policy in carrying +it such a length, while at the same time I did not resolve to discover +the thing to him; but I am giving an account of what was, not of what +ought or ought not to be. + +In their directly opposite opinion to one another my mother and I +continued a long time, and it was impossible to reconcile our +judgments; many disputes we had about it, but we could never either of +us yield our own, or bring over the other. + +I insisted on my aversion to lying with my own brother, and she +insisted upon its being impossible to bring him to consent to my going +from him to England; and in this uncertainty we continued, not +differing so as to quarrel, or anything like it, but so as not to be +able to resolve what we should do to make up that terrible breach that +was before us. + +At last I resolved on a desperate course, and told my mother my +resolution, viz. that, in short, I would tell him of it myself. My +mother was frighted to the last degree at the very thoughts of it; but +I bid her be easy, told her I would do it gradually and softly, and +with all the art and good-humour I was mistress of, and time it also as +well as I could, taking him in good-humour too. I told her I did not +question but, if I could be hypocrite enough to feign more affection to +him than I really had, I should succeed in all my design, and we might +part by consent, and with a good agreement, for I might live him well +enough for a brother, though I could not for a husband. + +All this while he lay at my mother to find out, if possible, what was +the meaning of that dreadful expression of mine, as he called it, which +I mentioned before: namely, that I was not his lawful wife, nor my +children his legal children. My mother put him off, told him she could +bring me to no explanations, but found there was something that +disturbed me very much, and she hoped she should get it out of me in +time, and in the meantime recommended to him earnestly to use me more +tenderly, and win me with his usual good carriage; told him of his +terrifying and affrighting me with his threats of sending me to a +madhouse, and the like, and advised him not to make a woman desperate +on any account whatever. + +He promised her to soften his behaviour, and bid her assure me that he +loved me as well as ever, and that he had no such design as that of +sending me to a madhouse, whatever he might say in his passion; also he +desired my mother to use the same persuasions to me too, that our +affections might be renewed, and we might lie together in a good +understanding as we used to do. + +I found the effects of this treaty presently. My husband’s conduct was +immediately altered, and he was quite another man to me; nothing could +be kinder and more obliging than he was to me upon all occasions; and I +could do no less than make some return to it, which I did as well as I +could, but it was but in an awkward manner at best, for nothing was +more frightful to me than his caresses, and the apprehensions of being +with child again by him was ready to throw me into fits; and this made +me see that there was an absolute necessity of breaking the case to him +without any more delay, which, however, I did with all the caution and +reserve imaginable. + +He had continued his altered carriage to me near a month, and we began +to live a new kind of life with one another; and could I have satisfied +myself to have gone on with it, I believe it might have continued as +long as we had continued alive together. One evening, as we were +sitting and talking very friendly together under a little awning, which +served as an arbour at the entrance from our house into the garden, he +was in a very pleasant, agreeable humour, and said abundance of kind +things to me relating to the pleasure of our present good agreement, +and the disorders of our past breach, and what a satisfaction it was to +him that we had room to hope we should never have any more of it. + +I fetched a deep sigh, and told him there was nobody in the world could +be more delighted than I was in the good agreement we had always kept +up, or more afflicted with the breach of it, and should be so still; +but I was sorry to tell him that there was an unhappy circumstance in +our case, which lay too close to my heart, and which I knew not how to +break to him, that rendered my part of it very miserable, and took from +me all the comfort of the rest. + +He importuned me to tell him what it was. I told him I could not tell +how to do it; that while it was concealed from him I alone was unhappy, +but if he knew it also, we should be both so; and that, therefore, to +keep him in the dark about it was the kindest thing that I could do, +and it was on that account alone that I kept a secret from him, the +very keeping of which, I thought, would first or last be my +destruction. + +It is impossible to express his surprise at this relation, and the +double importunity which he used with me to discover it to him. He told +me I could not be called kind to him, nay, I could not be faithful to +him if I concealed it from him. I told him I thought so too, and yet I +could not do it. He went back to what I had said before to him, and +told me he hoped it did not relate to what I had said in my passion, +and that he had resolved to forget all that as the effect of a rash, +provoked spirit. I told him I wished I could forget it all too, but +that it was not to be done, the impression was too deep, and I could +not do it: it was impossible. + +He then told me he was resolved not to differ with me in anything, and +that therefore he would importune me no more about it, resolving to +acquiesce in whatever I did or said; only begged I should then agree, +that whatever it was, it should no more interrupt our quiet and our +mutual kindness. + +This was the most provoking thing he could have said to me, for I +really wanted his further importunities, that I might be prevailed with +to bring out that which indeed it was like death to me to conceal; so I +answered him plainly that I could not say I was glad not to be +importuned, thought I could not tell how to comply. “But come, my +dear,” said I, “what conditions will you make with me upon the opening +this affair to you?” + +“Any conditions in the world,” said he, “that you can in reason desire +of me.” “Well,” said I, “come, give it me under your hand, that if you +do not find I am in any fault, or that I am willingly concerned in the +causes of the misfortune that is to follow, you will not blame me, use +me the worse, do me any injury, or make me be the sufferer for that +which is not my fault.” + +“That,” says he, “is the most reasonable demand in the world: not to +blame you for that which is not your fault. Give me a pen and ink,” +says he; so I ran in and fetched a pen, ink, and paper, and he wrote +the condition down in the very words I had proposed it, and signed it +with his name. “Well,” says he, “what is next, my dear?” + +“Why,” says I, “the next is, that you will not blame me for not +discovering the secret of it to you before I knew it.” + +“Very just again,” says he; “with all my heart”; so he wrote down that +also, and signed it. + +“Well, my dear,” says I, “then I have but one condition more to make +with you, and that is, that as there is nobody concerned in it but you +and I, you shall not discover it to any person in the world, except +your own mother; and that in all the measures you shall take upon the +discovery, as I am equally concerned in it with you, though as innocent +as yourself, you shall do nothing in a passion, nothing to my prejudice +or to your mother’s prejudice, without my knowledge and consent.” + +This a little amazed him, and he wrote down the words distinctly, but +read them over and over before he signed them, hesitating at them +several times, and repeating them: “My mother’s prejudice! and your +prejudice! What mysterious thing can this be?” However, at last he +signed it. + +“Well,” says I, “my dear, I’ll ask you no more under your hand; but as +you are to hear the most unexpected and surprising thing that perhaps +ever befell any family in the world, I beg you to promise me you will +receive it with composure and a presence of mind suitable to a man of +sense.” + +“I’ll do my utmost,” says he, “upon condition you will keep me no +longer in suspense, for you terrify me with all these preliminaries.” + +“Well, then,” says I, “it is this: as I told you before in a heat, that +I was not your lawful wife, and that our children were not legal +children, so I must let you know now in calmness and in kindness, but +with affliction enough, that I am your own sister, and you my own +brother, and that we are both the children of our mother now alive, and +in the house, who is convinced of the truth of it, in a manner not to +be denied or contradicted.” + +I saw him turn pale and look wild; and I said, “Now remember your +promise, and receive it with presence of mind; for who could have said +more to prepare you for it than I have done?” However, I called a +servant, and got him a little glass of rum (which is the usual dram of +that country), for he was just fainting away. When he was a little +recovered, I said to him, “This story, you may be sure, requires a long +explanation, and therefore, have patience and compose your mind to hear +it out, and I’ll make it as short as I can”; and with this, I told him +what I thought was needful of the fact, and particularly how my mother +came to discover it to me, as above. “And now, my dear,” says I, “you +will see reason for my capitulations, and that I neither have been the +cause of this matter, nor could be so, and that I could know nothing of +it before now.” + +“I am fully satisfied of that,” says he, “but ’tis a dreadful surprise +to me; however, I know a remedy for it all, and a remedy that shall put +an end to your difficulties, without your going to England.” “That +would be strange,” said I, “as all the rest.” “No, no,” says he, “I’ll +make it easy; there’s nobody in the way of it but myself.” He looked a +little disordered when he said this, but I did not apprehend anything +from it at that time, believing, as it used to be said, that they who +do those things never talk of them, or that they who talk of such +things never do them. + +But things were not come to their height with him, and I observed he +became pensive and melancholy; and in a word, as I thought, a little +distempered in his head. I endeavoured to talk him into temper, and to +reason him into a kind of scheme for our government in the affair, and +sometimes he would be well, and talk with some courage about it; but +the weight of it lay too heavy upon his thoughts, and, in short, it +went so far that he made attempts upon himself, and in one of them had +actually strangled himself and had not his mother come into the room in +the very moment, he had died; but with the help of a Negro servant she +cut him down and recovered him. + +Things were now come to a lamentable height in the family. My pity for +him now began to revive that affection which at first I really had for +him, and I endeavoured sincerely, by all the kind carriage I could, to +make up the breach; but, in short, it had gotten too great a head, it +preyed upon his spirits, and it threw him into a long, lingering +consumption, though it happened not to be mortal. In this distress I +did not know what to do, as his life was apparently declining, and I +might perhaps have married again there, very much to my advantage; it +had been certainly my business to have stayed in the country, but my +mind was restless too, and uneasy; I hankered after coming to England, +and nothing would satisfy me without it. + +In short, by an unwearied importunity, my husband, who was apparently +decaying, as I observed, was at last prevailed with; and so my own fate +pushing me on, the way was made clear for me, and my mother concurring, +I obtained a very good cargo for my coming to England. + +When I parted with my brother (for such I am now to call him), we +agreed that after I arrived he should pretend to have an account that I +was dead in England, and so might marry again when he would. He +promised, and engaged to me to correspond with me as a sister, and to +assist and support me as long as I lived; and that if he died before +me, he would leave sufficient to his mother to take care of me still, +in the name of a sister, and he was in some respects careful of me, +when he heard of me; but it was so oddly managed that I felt the +disappointments very sensibly afterwards, as you shall hear in its +time. + +I came away for England in the month of August, after I had been eight +years in that country; and now a new scene of misfortunes attended me, +which perhaps few women have gone through the life of. + +We had an indifferent good voyage till we came just upon the coast of +England, and where we arrived in two-and-thirty days, but were then +ruffled with two or three storms, one of which drove us away to the +coast of Ireland, and we put in at Kinsdale. We remained there about +thirteen days, got some refreshment on shore, and put to sea again, +though we met with very bad weather again, in which the ship sprung her +mainmast, as they called it, for I knew not what they meant. But we got +at last into Milford Haven, in Wales, where, though it was remote from +our port, yet having my foot safe upon the firm ground of my native +country, the isle of Britain, I resolved to venture it no more upon the +waters, which had been so terrible to me; so getting my clothes and +money on shore, with my bills of loading and other papers, I resolved +to come for London, and leave the ship to get to her port as she could; +the port whither she was bound was to Bristol, where my brother’s chief +correspondent lived. + +I got to London in about three weeks, where I heard a little while +after that the ship was arrived in Bristol, but at the same time had +the misfortune to know that by the violent weather she had been in, and +the breaking of her mainmast, she had great damage on board, and that a +great part of her cargo was spoiled. + +I had now a new scene of life upon my hands, and a dreadful appearance +it had. I was come away with a kind of final farewell. What I brought +with me was indeed considerable, had it come safe, and by the help of +it, I might have married again tolerably well; but as it was, I was +reduced to between two or three hundred pounds in the whole, and this +without any hope of recruit. I was entirely without friends, nay, even +so much as without acquaintance, for I found it was absolutely +necessary not to revive former acquaintances; and as for my subtle +friend that set me up formerly for a fortune, she was dead, and her +husband also; as I was informed, upon sending a person unknown to +inquire. + +The looking after my cargo of goods soon after obliged me to take a +journey to Bristol, and during my attendance upon that affair I took +the diversion of going to the Bath, for as I was still far from being +old, so my humour, which was always gay, continued so to an extreme; +and being now, as it were, a woman of fortune though I was a woman +without a fortune, I expected something or other might happen in my way +that might mend my circumstances, as had been my case before. + +The Bath is a place of gallantry enough; expensive, and full of snares. +I went thither, indeed, in the view of taking anything that might +offer, but I must do myself justice, as to protest I knew nothing +amiss; I meant nothing but in an honest way, nor had I any thoughts +about me at first that looked the way which afterwards I suffered them +to be guided. + +Here I stayed the whole latter season, as it is called there, and +contracted some unhappy acquaintances, which rather prompted the +follies I fell afterwards into than fortified me against them. I lived +pleasantly enough, kept good company, that is to say, gay, fine +company; but had the discouragement to find this way of living sunk me +exceedingly, and that as I had no settled income, so spending upon the +main stock was but a certain kind of bleeding to death; and this gave +me many sad reflections in the interval of my other thoughts. However, +I shook them off, and still flattered myself that something or other +might offer for my advantage. + +But I was in the wrong place for it. I was not now at Redriff, where, +if I had set myself tolerably up, some honest sea captain or other +might have talked with me upon the honourable terms of matrimony; but I +was at the Bath, where men find a mistress sometimes, but very rarely +look for a wife; and consequently all the particular acquaintances a +woman can expect to make there must have some tendency that way. + +I had spent the first season well enough; for though I had contracted +some acquaintance with a gentleman who came to the Bath for his +diversion, yet I had entered into no felonious treaty, as it might be +called. I had resisted some casual offers of gallantry, and had managed +that way well enough. I was not wicked enough to come into the crime +for the mere vice of it, and I had no extraordinary offers made me that +tempted me with the main thing which I wanted. + +However, I went this length the first season, viz. I contracted an +acquaintance with a woman in whose house I lodged, who, though she did +not keep an ill house, as we call it, yet had none of the best +principles in herself. I had on all occasions behaved myself so well as +not to get the least slur upon my reputation on any account whatever, +and all the men that I had conversed with were of so good reputation +that I had not given the least reflection by conversing with them; nor +did any of them seem to think there was room for a wicked +correspondence, if they had any of them offered it; yet there was one +gentleman, as above, who always singled me out for the diversion of my +company, as he called it, which, as he was pleased to say, was very +agreeable to him, but at that time there was no more in it. + +I had many melancholy hours at the Bath after the company was gone; for +though I went to Bristol sometime for the disposing my effects, and for +recruits of money, yet I chose to come back to Bath for my residence, +because being on good terms with the woman in whose house I lodged in +the summer, I found that during the winter I lived rather cheaper there +than I could do anywhere else. Here, I say, I passed the winter as +heavily as I had passed the autumn cheerfully; but having contracted a +nearer intimacy with the said woman in whose house I lodged, I could +not avoid communicating to her something of what lay hardest upon my +mind and particularly the narrowness of my circumstances, and the loss +of my fortune by the damage of my goods at sea. I told her also, that I +had a mother and a brother in Virginia in good circumstances; and as I +had really written back to my mother in particular to represent my +condition, and the great loss I had received, which indeed came to +almost £500, so I did not fail to let my new friend know that I +expected a supply from thence, and so indeed I did; and as the ships +went from Bristol to York River, in Virginia, and back again generally +in less time from London, and that my brother corresponded chiefly at +Bristol, I thought it was much better for me to wait here for my +returns than to go to London, where also I had not the least +acquaintance. + +My new friend appeared sensibly affected with my condition, and indeed +was so very kind as to reduce the rate of my living with her to so low +a price during the winter, that she convinced me she got nothing by me; +and as for lodging, during the winter I paid nothing at all. + +When the spring season came on, she continued to be as kind to me as +she could, and I lodged with her for a time, till it was found +necessary to do otherwise. She had some persons of character that +frequently lodged in her house, and in particular the gentleman who, as +I said, singled me out for his companion the winter before; and he came +down again with another gentleman in his company and two servants, and +lodged in the same house. I suspected that my landlady had invited him +thither, letting him know that I was still with her; but she denied it, +and protested to me that she did not, and he said the same. + +In a word, this gentleman came down and continued to single me out for +his peculiar confidence as well as conversation. He was a complete +gentleman, that must be confessed, and his company was very agreeable +to me, as mine, if I might believe him, was to him. He made no +professions to me but of an extraordinary respect, and he had such an +opinion of my virtue, that, as he often professed, he believed if he +should offer anything else, I should reject him with contempt. He soon +understood from me that I was a widow; that I had arrived at Bristol +from Virginia by the last ships; and that I waited at Bath till the +next Virginia fleet should arrive, by which I expected considerable +effects. I understood by him, and by others of him, that he had a wife, +but that the lady was distempered in her head, and was under the +conduct of her own relations, which he consented to, to avoid any +reflections that might (as was not unusual in such cases) be cast on +him for mismanaging her cure; and in the meantime he came to the Bath +to divert his thoughts from the disturbance of such a melancholy +circumstance as that was. + +My landlady, who of her own accord encouraged the correspondence on all +occasions, gave me an advantageous character of him, as a man of honour +and of virtue, as well as of great estate. And indeed I had a great +deal of reason to say so of him too; for though we lodged both on a +floor, and he had frequently come into my chamber, even when I was in +bed, and I also into his when he was in bed, yet he never offered +anything to me further than a kiss, or so much as solicited me to +anything till long after, as you shall hear. + +I frequently took notice to my landlady of his exceeding modesty, and +she again used to tell me, she believed it was so from the beginning; +however, she used to tell me that she thought I ought to expect some +gratification from him for my company, for indeed he did, as it were, +engross me, and I was seldom from him. I told her I had not given him +the least occasion to think I wanted it, or that I would accept of it +from him. She told me she would take that part upon her, and she did +so, and managed it so dexterously, that the first time we were together +alone, after she had talked with him, he began to inquire a little into +my circumstances, as how I had subsisted myself since I came on shore, +and whether I did not want money. I stood off very boldly. I told him +that though my cargo of tobacco was damaged, yet that it was not quite +lost; that the merchant I had been consigned to had so honestly managed +for me that I had not wanted, and that I hoped, with frugal management, +I should make it hold out till more would come, which I expected by the +next fleet; that in the meantime I had retrenched my expenses, and +whereas I kept a maid last season, now I lived without; and whereas I +had a chamber and a dining-room then on the first floor, as he knew, I +now had but one room, two pair of stairs, and the like. “But I live,” +said I, “as well satisfied now as I did then”; adding, that his company +had been a means to make me live much more cheerfully than otherwise I +should have done, for which I was much obliged to him; and so I put off +all room for any offer for the present. However, it was not long before +he attacked me again, and told me he found that I was backward to trust +him with the secret of my circumstances, which he was sorry for; +assuring me that he inquired into it with no design to satisfy his own +curiosity, but merely to assist me, if there was any occasion; but +since I would not own myself to stand in need of any assistance, he had +but one thing more to desire of me, and that was, that I would promise +him that when I was any way straitened, or like to be so, I would +frankly tell him of it, and that I would make use of him with the same +freedom that he made the offer; adding, that I should always find I had +a true friend, though perhaps I was afraid to trust him. + +I omitted nothing that was fit to be said by one infinitely obliged, to +let him know that I had a due sense of his kindness; and indeed from +that time I did not appear so much reserved to him as I had done +before, though still within the bounds of the strictest virtue on both +sides; but how free soever our conversation was, I could not arrive to +that sort of freedom which he desired, viz. to tell him I wanted money, +though I was secretly very glad of his offer. + +Some weeks passed after this, and still I never asked him for money; +when my landlady, a cunning creature, who had often pressed me to it, +but found that I could not do it, makes a story of her own inventing, +and comes in bluntly to me when we were together. “Oh, widow!” says +she, “I have bad news to tell you this morning.” “What is that?” said +I; “are the Virginia ships taken by the French?”—for that was my fear. +“No, no,” says she, “but the man you sent to Bristol yesterday for +money is come back, and says he has brought none.” + +Now I could by no means like her project; I thought it looked too much +like prompting him, which indeed he did not want, and I clearly saw +that I should lose nothing by being backward to ask, so I took her up +short. “I can’t image why he should say so to you,” said I, “for I +assure you he brought me all the money I sent him for, and here it is,” +said I (pulling out my purse with about twelve guineas in it); and +added, “I intend you shall have most of it by and by.” + +He seemed distasted a little at her talking as she did at first, as +well as I, taking it, as I fancied he would, as something forward of +her; but when he saw me give such an answer, he came immediately to +himself again. The next morning we talked of it again, when I found he +was fully satisfied, and, smiling, said he hoped I would not want money +and not tell him of it, and that I had promised him otherwise. I told +him I had been very much dissatisfied at my landlady’s talking so +publicly the day before of what she had nothing to do with; but I +supposed she wanted what I owed her, which was about eight guineas, +which I had resolved to give her, and had accordingly given it her the +same night she talked so foolishly. + +He was in a might good humour when he heard me say I had paid her, and +it went off into some other discourse at that time. But the next +morning, he having heard me up about my room before him, he called to +me, and I answering, he asked me to come into his chamber. He was in +bed when I came in, and he made me come and sit down on his bedside, +for he said he had something to say to me which was of some moment. +After some very kind expressions, he asked me if I would be very honest +to him, and give a sincere answer to one thing he would desire of me. +After some little cavil at the word “sincere,” and asking him if I had +ever given him any answers which were not sincere, I promised him I +would. Why, then, his request was, he said, to let him see my purse. I +immediately put my hand into my pocket, and, laughing to him, pulled it +out, and there was in it three guineas and a half. Then he asked me if +there was all the money I had. I told him No, laughing again, not by a +great deal. + +Well, then, he said, he would have me promise to go and fetch him all +the money I had, every farthing. I told him I would, and I went into my +chamber and fetched him a little private drawer, where I had about six +guineas more, and some silver, and threw it all down upon the bed, and +told him there was all my wealth, honestly to a shilling. He looked a +little at it, but did not tell it, and huddled it all into the drawer +again, and then reaching his pocket, pulled out a key, and bade me open +a little walnut-tree box he had upon the table, and bring him such a +drawer, which I did. In which drawer there was a great deal of money in +gold, I believe near two hundred guineas, but I knew not how much. He +took the drawer, and taking my hand, made me put it in and take a whole +handful. I was backward at that, but he held my hand hard in his hand, +and put it into the drawer, and made me take out as many guineas almost +as I could well take up at once. + +When I had done so, he made me put them into my lap, and took my little +drawer, and poured out all my money among his, and bade me get me gone, +and carry it all home into my own chamber. + +I relate this story the more particularly because of the good-humour +there was in it, and to show the temper with which we conversed. It was +not long after this but he began every day to find fault with my +clothes, with my laces and headdresses, and, in a word, pressed me to +buy better; which, by the way, I was willing enough to do, though I did +not seem to be so, for I loved nothing in the world better than fine +clothes. I told him I must housewife the money he had lent me, or else +I should not be able to pay him again. He then told me, in a few words, +that as he had a sincere respect for me, and knew my circumstances, he +had not lent me that money, but given it me, and that he thought I had +merited it from him by giving him my company so entirely as I had done. +After this he made me take a maid, and keep house, and his friend that +come with him to Bath being gone, he obliged me to diet him, which I +did very willingly, believing, as it appeared, that I should lose +nothing by it, nor did the woman of the house fail to find her account +in it too. + +We had lived thus near three months, when the company beginning to wear +away at the Bath, he talked of going away, and fain he would have me to +go to London with him. I was not very easy in that proposal, not +knowing what posture I was to live in there, or how he might use me. +But while this was in debate he fell very sick; he had gone out to a +place in Somersetshire, called Shepton, where he had some business and +was there taken very ill, and so ill that he could not travel; so he +sent his man back to Bath, to beg me that I would hire a coach and come +over to him. Before he went, he had left all his money and other things +of value with me, and what to do with them I did not know, but I +secured them as well as I could, and locked up the lodgings and went to +him, where I found him very ill indeed; however, I persuaded him to be +carried in a litter to the Bath, where there was more help and better +advice to be had. + +He consented, and I brought him to the Bath, which was about fifteen +miles, as I remember. Here he continued very ill of a fever, and kept +his bed five weeks, all which time I nursed him and tended him myself, +as much and as carefully as if I had been his wife; indeed, if I had +been his wife I could not have done more. I sat up with him so much and +so often, that at last, indeed, he would not let me sit up any longer, +and then I got a pallet-bed into his room, and lay in it just at his +bed’s feet. + +I was indeed sensibly affected with his condition, and with the +apprehension of losing such a friend as he was, and was like to be to +me, and I used to sit and cry by him many hours together. However, at +last he grew better, and gave hopes that he would recover, as indeed he +did, though very slowly. + +Were it otherwise than what I am going to say, I should not be backward +to disclose it, as it is apparent I have done in other cases in this +account; but I affirm, that through all this conversation, abating the +freedom of coming into the chamber when I or he was in bed, and abating +the necessary offices of attending him night and day when he was sick, +there had not passed the least immodest word or action between us. Oh +that it had been so to the last! + +After some time he gathered strength and grew well apace, and I would +have removed my pallet-bed, but he would not let me, till he was able +to venture himself without anybody to sit up with him, and then I +removed to my own chamber. + +He took many occasions to express his sense of my tenderness and +concern for him; and when he grew quite well, he made me a present of +fifty guineas for my care and, as he called it, for hazarding my life +to save his. + +And now he made deep protestations of a sincere inviolable affection +for me, but all along attested it to be with the utmost reserve for my +virtue and his own. I told him I was fully satisfied of it. He carried +it that length that he protested to me, that if he was naked in bed +with me, he would as sacredly preserve my virtue as he would defend it +if I was assaulted by a ravisher. I believed him, and told him I did +so; but this did not satisfy him, he would, he said, wait for some +opportunity to give me an undoubted testimony of it. + +It was a great while after this that I had occasion, on my own +business, to go to Bristol, upon which he hired me a coach, and would +go with me, and did so; and now indeed our intimacy increased. From +Bristol he carried me to Gloucester, which was merely a journey of +pleasure, to take the air; and here it was our hap to have no lodging +in the inn but in one large chamber with two beds in it. The master of +the house going up with us to show his rooms, and coming into that +room, said very frankly to him, “Sir, it is none of my business to +inquire whether the lady be your spouse or no, but if not, you may lie +as honestly in these two beds as if you were in two chambers,” and with +that he pulls a great curtain which drew quite across the room and +effectually divided the beds. “Well,” says my friend, very readily, +“these beds will do, and as for the rest, we are too near akin to lie +together, though we may lodge near one another”; and this put an honest +face on the thing too. When we came to go to bed, he decently went out +of the room till I was in bed, and then went to bed in the bed on his +own side of the room, but lay there talking to me a great while. + +At last, repeating his usual saying, that he could lie naked in the bed +with me and not offer me the least injury, he starts out of his bed. +“And now, my dear,” says he, “you shall see how just I will be to you, +and that I can keep my word,” and away he comes to my bed. + +I resisted a little, but I must confess I should not have resisted him +much if he had not made those promises at all; so after a little +struggle, as I said, I lay still and let him come to bed. When he was +there he took me in his arms, and so I lay all night with him, but he +had no more to do with me, or offered anything to me, other than +embracing me, as I say, in his arms, no, not the whole night, but rose +up and dressed him in the morning, and left me as innocent for him as I +was the day I was born. + +This was a surprising thing to me, and perhaps may be so to others, who +know how the laws of nature work; for he was a strong, vigorous, brisk +person; nor did he act thus on a principle of religion at all, but of +mere affection; insisting on it, that though I was to him the most +agreeable woman in the world, yet, because he loved me, he could not +injure me. + +I own it was a noble principle, but as it was what I never understood +before, so it was to me perfectly amazing. We traveled the rest of the +journey as we did before, and came back to the Bath, where, as he had +opportunity to come to me when he would, he often repeated the +moderation, and I frequently lay with him, and he with me, and although +all the familiarities between man and wife were common to us, yet he +never once offered to go any farther, and he valued himself much upon +it. I do not say that I was so wholly pleased with it as he thought I +was, for I own much wickeder than he, as you shall hear presently. + +We lived thus near two years, only with this exception, that he went +three times to London in that time, and once he continued there four +months; but, to do him justice, he always supplied me with money to +subsist me very handsomely. + +Had we continued thus, I confess we had had much to boast of; but as +wise men say, it is ill venturing too near the brink of a command, so +we found it; and here again I must do him the justice to own that the +first breach was not on his part. It was one night that we were in bed +together warm and merry, and having drunk, I think, a little more wine +that night, both of us, than usual, although not in the least to +disorder either of us, when, after some other follies which I cannot +name, and being clasped close in his arms, I told him (I repeat it with +shame and horror of soul) that I could find in my heart to discharge +him of his engagement for one night and no more. + +He took me at my word immediately, and after that there was no +resisting him; neither indeed had I any mind to resist him any more, +let what would come of it. + +Thus the government of our virtue was broken, and I exchanged the place +of friend for that unmusical, harsh-sounding title of whore. In the +morning we were both at our penitentials; I cried very heartily, he +expressed himself very sorry; but that was all either of us could do at +that time, and the way being thus cleared, and the bars of virtue and +conscience thus removed, we had the less difficult afterwards to +struggle with. + +It was but a dull kind of conversation that we had together for all the +rest of that week; I looked on him with blushes, and every now and then +started that melancholy objection, “What if I should be with child now? +What will become of me then?” He encouraged me by telling me, that as +long as I was true to him, he would be so to me; and since it was gone +such a length (which indeed he never intended), yet if I was with +child, he would take care of that, and of me too. This hardened us +both. I assured him if I was with child, I would die for want of a +midwife rather than name him as the father of it; and he assured me I +should never want if I should be with child. These mutual assurances +hardened us in the thing, and after this we repeated the crime as often +as we pleased, till at length, as I had feared, so it came to pass, and +I was indeed with child. + +After I was sure it was so, and I had satisfied him of it too, we began +to think of taking measures for the managing it, and I proposed +trusting the secret to my landlady, and asking her advice, which he +agreed to. My landlady, a woman (as I found) used to such things, made +light of it; she said she knew it would come to that at last, and made +us very merry about it. As I said above, we found her an experienced +old lady at such work; she undertook everything, engaged to procure a +midwife and a nurse, to satisfy all inquiries, and bring us off with +reputation, and she did so very dexterously indeed. + +When I grew near my time she desired my gentleman to go away to London, +or make as if he did so. When he was gone, she acquainted the parish +officers that there was a lady ready to lie in at her house, but that +she knew her husband very well, and gave them, as she pretended, an +account of his name, which she called Sir Walter Cleve; telling them he +was a very worthy gentleman, and that she would answer for all +inquiries, and the like. This satisfied the parish officers presently, +and I lay in with as much credit as I could have done if I had really +been my Lady Cleve, and was assisted in my travail by three or four of +the best citizens’ wives of Bath who lived in the neighbourhood, which, +however, made me a little the more expensive to him. I often expressed +my concern to him about it, but he bid me not be concerned at it. + +As he had furnished me very sufficiently with money for the +extraordinary expenses of my lying in, I had everything very handsome +about me, but did not affect to be gay or extravagant neither; besides, +knowing my own circumstances, and knowing the world as I had done, and +that such kind of things do not often last long, I took care to lay up +as much money as I could for a wet day, as I called it; making him +believe it was all spent upon the extraordinary appearance of things in +my lying in. + +By this means, and including what he had given me as above, I had at +the end of my lying in about two hundred guineas by me, including also +what was left of my own. + +I was brought to bed of a fine boy indeed, and a charming child it was; +and when he heard of it he wrote me a very kind, obliging letter about +it, and then told me, he thought it would look better for me to come +away for London as soon as I was up and well; that he had provided +apartments for me at Hammersmith, as if I came thither only from +London; and that after a little while I should go back to the Bath, and +he would go with me. + +I liked this offer very well, and accordingly hired a coach on purpose, +and taking my child, and a wet-nurse to tend and suckle it, and a +maid-servant with me, away I went for London. + +He met me at Reading in his own chariot, and taking me into that, left +the servant and the child in the hired coach, and so he brought me to +my new lodgings at Hammersmith; with which I had abundance of reason to +be very well pleased, for they were very handsome rooms, and I was very +well accommodated. + +And now I was indeed in the height of what I might call my prosperity, +and I wanted nothing but to be a wife, which, however, could not be in +this case, there was no room for it; and therefore on all occasions I +studied to save what I could, as I have said above, against a time of +scarcity, knowing well enough that such things as these do not always +continue; that men that keep mistresses often change them, grow weary +of them, or jealous of them, or something or other happens to make them +withdraw their bounty; and sometimes the ladies that are thus well used +are not careful by a prudent conduct to preserve the esteem of their +persons, or the nice article of their fidelity, and then they are +justly cast off with contempt. + +But I was secured in this point, for as I had no inclination to change, +so I had no manner of acquaintance in the whole house, and so no +temptation to look any farther. I kept no company but in the family +when I lodged, and with the clergyman’s lady at next door; so that when +he was absent I visited nobody, nor did he ever find me out of my +chamber or parlour whenever he came down; if I went anywhere to take +the air, it was always with him. + +The living in this manner with him, and his with me, was certainly the +most undesigned thing in the world; he often protested to me, that when +he became first acquainted with me, and even to the very night when we +first broke in upon our rules, he never had the least design of lying +with me; that he always had a sincere affection for me, but not the +least real inclination to do what he had done. I assured him I never +suspected him; that if I had I should not so easily have yielded to the +freedom which brought it on, but that it was all a surprise, and was +owing to the accident of our having yielded too far to our mutual +inclinations that night; and indeed I have often observed since, and +leave it as a caution to the readers of this story, that we ought to be +cautious of gratifying our inclinations in loose and lewd freedoms, +lest we find our resolutions of virtue fail us in the junction when +their assistance should be most necessary. + +It is true, and I have confessed it before, that from the first hour I +began to converse with him, I resolved to let him lie with me, if he +offered it; but it was because I wanted his help and assistance, and I +knew no other way of securing him than that. But when we were that +night together, and, as I have said, had gone such a length, I found my +weakness; the inclination was not to be resisted, but I was obliged to +yield up all even before he asked it. + +However, he was so just to me that he never upbraided me with that; nor +did he ever express the least dislike of my conduct on any other +occasion, but always protested he was as much delighted with my company +as he was the first hour we came together: I mean, came together as +bedfellows. + +It is true that he had no wife, that is to say, she was as no wife to +him, and so I was in no danger that way, but the just reflections of +conscience oftentimes snatch a man, especially a man of sense, from the +arms of a mistress, as it did him at last, though on another occasion. + +On the other hand, though I was not without secret reproaches of my own +conscience for the life I led, and that even in the greatest height of +the satisfaction I ever took, yet I had the terrible prospect of +poverty and starving, which lay on me as a frightful spectre, so that +there was no looking behind me. But as poverty brought me into it, so +fear of poverty kept me in it, and I frequently resolved to leave it +quite off, if I could but come to lay up money enough to maintain me. +But these were thoughts of no weight, and whenever he came to me they +vanished; for his company was so delightful, that there was no being +melancholy when he was there; the reflections were all the subject of +those hours when I was alone. + +I lived six years in this happy but unhappy condition, in which time I +brought him three children, but only the first of them lived; and +though I removed twice in those six years, yet I came back the sixth +year to my first lodgings at Hammersmith. Here it was that I was one +morning surprised with a kind but melancholy letter from my gentleman, +intimating that he was very ill, and was afraid he should have another +fit of sickness, but that his wife’s relations being in the house with +him, it would not be practicable to have me with him, which, however, +he expressed his great dissatisfaction in, and that he wished I could +be allowed to tend and nurse him as I did before. + +I was very much concerned at this account, and was very impatient to +know how it was with him. I waited a fortnight or thereabouts, and +heard nothing, which surprised me, and I began to be very uneasy +indeed. I think, I may say, that for the next fortnight I was near to +distracted. It was my particular difficulty that I did not know +directly where he was; for I understood at first he was in the lodgings +of his wife’s mother; but having removed myself to London, I soon +found, by the help of the direction I had for writing my letters to +him, how to inquire after him, and there I found that he was at a house +in Bloomsbury, whither he had, a little before he fell sick, removed +his whole family; and that his wife and wife’s mother were in the same +house, though the wife was not suffered to know that she was in the +same house with her husband. + +Here I also soon understood that he was at the last extremity, which +made me almost at the last extremity too, to have a true account. One +night I had the curiosity to disguise myself like a servant-maid, in a +round cap and straw hat, and went to the door, as sent by a lady of his +neighbourhood, where he lived before, and giving master and mistress’s +service, I said I was sent to know how Mr. —— did, and how he had +rested that night. In delivering this message I got the opportunity I +desired; for, speaking with one of the maids, I held a long gossip’s +tale with her, and had all the particulars of his illness, which I +found was a pleurisy, attended with a cough and a fever. She told me +also who was in the house, and how his wife was, who, by her relation, +they were in some hopes might recover her understanding; but as to the +gentleman himself, in short she told me the doctors said there was very +little hopes of him, that in the morning they thought he had been +dying, and that he was but little better then, for they did not expect +that he could live over the next night. + +This was heavy news for me, and I began now to see an end of my +prosperity, and to see also that it was very well I had played to good +housewife, and secured or saved something while he was alive, for that +now I had no view of my own living before me. + +It lay very heavy upon my mind, too, that I had a son, a fine lovely +boy, about five years old, and no provision made for it, at least that +I knew of. With these considerations, and a sad heart, I went home that +evening, and began to cast with myself how I should live, and in what +manner to bestow myself, for the residue of my life. + +You may be sure I could not rest without inquiring again very quickly +what was become of him; and not venturing to go myself, I sent several +sham messengers, till after a fortnight’s waiting longer, I found that +there was hopes of his life, though he was still very ill; then I +abated my sending any more to the house, and in some time after I +learned in the neighbourhood that he was about house, and then that he +was abroad again. + +I made no doubt then but that I should soon hear of him, and began to +comfort myself with my circumstances being, as I thought, recovered. I +waited a week, and two weeks, and with much surprise and amazement I +waited near two months and heard nothing, but that, being recovered, he +was gone into the country for the air, and for the better recovery +after his distemper. After this it was yet two months more, and then I +understood he was come to his city house again, but still I heard +nothing from him. + +I had written several letters for him, and directed them as usual, and +found two or three of them had been called for, but not the rest. I +wrote again in a more pressing manner than ever, and in one of them let +him know, that I must be forced to wait on him myself, representing my +circumstances, the rent of lodgings to pay, and the provision for the +child wanting, and my own deplorable condition, destitute of +subsistence for his most solemn engagement to take care of and provide +for me. I took a copy of this letter, and finding it lay at the house +near a month and was not called for, I found means to have the copy of +it put into his own hands at a coffee-house, where I had by inquiry +found he used to go. + +This letter forced an answer from him, by which, though I found I was +to be abandoned, yet I found he had sent a letter to me some time +before, desiring me to go down to the Bath again. Its contents I shall +come to presently. + +It is true that sick-beds are the time when such correspondences as +this are looked on with different countenances, and seen with other +eyes than we saw them with, or than they appeared with before. My lover +had been at the gates of death, and at the very brink of eternity; and, +it seems, had been struck with a due remorse, and with sad reflections +upon his past life of gallantry and levity; and among the rest, +criminal correspondence with me, which was neither more nor less than a +long-continued life of adultery, and represented itself as it really +was, not as it had been formerly thought by him to be, and he looked +upon it now with a just and religious abhorrence. + +I cannot but observe also, and leave it for the direction of my sex in +such cases of pleasure, that whenever sincere repentance succeeds such +a crime as this, there never fails to attend a hatred of the object; +and the more the affection might seem to be before, the hatred will be +the more in proportion. It will always be so, indeed it can be no +otherwise; for there cannot be a true and sincere abhorrence of the +offence, and the love to the cause of it remain; there will, with an +abhorrence of the sin, be found a detestation of the fellow-sinner; you +can expect no other. + +I found it so here, though good manners and justice in this gentleman +kept him from carrying it on to any extreme but the short history of +his part in this affair was thus: he perceived by my last letter, and +by all the rest, which he went for after, that I was not gone to Bath, +that his first letter had not come to my hand; upon which he write me +this following:— + + “MADAM,—I am surprised that my letter, dated the 8th of last month, + did not come to your hand; I give you my word it was delivered at + your lodgings, and to the hands of your maid. + + I need not acquaint you with what has been my condition for some + time past; and how, having been at the edge of the grave, I am, by + the unexpected and undeserved mercy of Heaven, restored again. In + the condition I have been in, it cannot be strange to you that our + unhappy correspondence had not been the least of the burthens which + lay upon my conscience. I need say no more; those things that must + be repented of, must be also reformed. + + I wish you would think of going back to the Bath. I enclose you + here a bill for £50 for clearing yourself at your lodgings, and + carrying you down, and hope it will be no surprise to you to add, + that on this account only, and not for any offence given me on your + side, I can _see you no more_. I will take due care of the child; + leave him where he is, or take him with you, as you please. I wish + you the like reflections, and that they may be to your advantage.—I + am,” etc. + +I was struck with this letter as with a thousand wounds, such as I +cannot describe; the reproaches of my own conscience were such as I +cannot express, for I was not blind to my own crime; and I reflected +that I might with less offence have continued with my brother, and +lived with him as a wife, since there was no crime in our marriage on +that score, neither of us knowing it. + +But I never once reflected that I was all this while a married woman, a +wife to Mr. —— the linen-draper, who, though he had left me by the +necessity of his circumstances, had no power to discharge me from the +marriage contract which was between us, or to give me a legal liberty +to marry again; so that I had been no less than a whore and an +adulteress all this while. I then reproached myself with the liberties +I had taken, and how I had been a snare to this gentleman, and that +indeed I was principal in the crime; that now he was mercifully +snatched out of the gulf by a convincing work upon his mind, but that I +was left as if I was forsaken of God’s grace, and abandoned by Heaven +to a continuing in my wickedness. + +Under these reflections I continued very pensive and sad for near +month, and did not go down to the Bath, having no inclination to be +with the woman whom I was with before; lest, as I thought, she should +prompt me to some wicked course of life again, as she had done; and +besides, I was very loth she should know I was cast off as above. + +And now I was greatly perplexed about my little boy. It was death to me +to part with the child, and yet when I considered the danger of being +one time or other left with him to keep without a maintenance to +support him, I then resolved to leave him where he was; but then I +concluded also to be near him myself too, that I then might have the +satisfaction of seeing him, without the care of providing for him. + +I sent my gentleman a short letter, therefore, that I had obeyed his +orders in all things but that of going back to the Bath, which I could +not think of for many reasons; that however parting from him was a +wound to me that I could never recover, yet that I was fully satisfied +his reflections were just, and would be very far from desiring to +obstruct his reformation or repentance. + +Then I represented my own circumstances to him in the most moving terms +that I was able. I told him that those unhappy distresses which first +moved him to a generous and an honest friendship for me, would, I hope, +move him to a little concern for me now, though the criminal part of +our correspondence, which I believed neither of us intended to fall +into at the time, was broken off; that I desired to repent as sincerely +as he had done, but entreated him to put me in some condition that I +might not be exposed to the temptations which the devil never fails to +excite us to from the frightful prospect of poverty and distress; and +if he had the least apprehensions of my being troublesome to him, I +begged he would put me in a posture to go back to my mother in +Virginia, from when he knew I came, and that would put an end to all +his fears on that account. I concluded, that if he would send me £50 +more to facilitate my going away, I would send him back a general +release, and would promise never to disturb him more with any +importunities; unless it was to hear of the well-doing of the child, +whom, if I found my mother living and my circumstances able, I would +send for to come over to me, and take him also effectually off his +hands. + +This was indeed all a cheat thus far, viz. that I had no intention to +go to Virginia, as the account of my former affairs there may convince +anybody of; but the business was to get this last £50 of him, if +possible, knowing well enough it would be the last penny I was ever to +expect. + +However, the argument I used, namely, of giving him a general release, +and never troubling him any more, prevailed effectually with him, and +he sent me a bill for the money by a person who brought with him a +general release for me to sign, and which I frankly signed, and +received the money; and thus, though full sore against my will, a final +end was put to this affair. + +And here I cannot but reflect upon the unhappy consequence of too great +freedoms between persons stated as we were, upon the pretence of +innocent intentions, love of friendship, and the like; for the flesh +has generally so great a share in those friendships, that is great odds +but inclination prevails at last over the most solemn resolutions; and +that vice breaks in at the breaches of decency, which really innocent +friendship ought to preserve with the greatest strictness. But I leave +the readers of these things to their own just reflections, which they +will be more able to make effectual than I, who so soon forgot myself, +and am therefore but a very indifferent monitor. + +I was now a single person again, as I may call myself; I was loosed +from all the obligations either of wedlock or mistress-ship in the +world, except my husband the linen-draper, whom, I having not now heard +from in almost fifteen years, nobody could blame me for thinking myself +entirely freed from; seeing also he had at his going away told me, that +if I did not hear frequently from him, I should conclude he was dead, +and I might freely marry again to whom I pleased. + +I now began to cast up my accounts. I had by many letters and much +importunity, and with the intercession of my mother too, had a second +return of some goods from my brother (as I now call him) in Virginia, +to make up the damage of the cargo I brought away with me, and this too +was upon the condition of my sealing a general release to him, and to +send it him by his correspondent at Bristol, which, though I thought +hard of, yet I was obliged to promise to do. However, I managed so well +in this case, that I got my goods away before the release was signed, +and then I always found something or other to say to evade the thing, +and to put off the signing it at all; till at length I pretended I must +write to my brother, and have his answer, before I could do it. + +Including this recruit, and before I got the last £50, I found my +strength to amount, put all together, to about £400, so that with that +I had about £450. I had saved above £100 more, but I met with a +disaster with that, which was this—that a goldsmith in whose hands I +had trusted it, broke, so I lost £70 of my money, the man’s composition +not making above £30 out of his £100. I had a little plate, but not +much, and was well enough stocked with clothes and linen. + +With this stock I had the world to begin again; but you are to consider +that I was not now the same woman as when I lived at Redriff; for, +first of all, I was near twenty years older, and did not look the +better for my age, nor for my rambles to Virginia and back again; and +though I omitted nothing that might set me out to advantage, except +painting, for that I never stooped to, and had pride enough to think I +did not want it, yet there would always be some difference seen between +five-and-twenty and two-and-forty. + +I cast about innumerable ways for my future state of life, and began to +consider very seriously what I should do, but nothing offered. I took +care to make the world take me for something more than I was, and had +it given out that I was a fortune, and that my estate was in my own +hands; the last of which was very true, the first of it was as above. I +had no acquaintance, which was one of my worst misfortunes, and the +consequence of that was, I had no adviser, at least who could assist +and advise together; and above all, I had nobody to whom I could in +confidence commit the secret of my circumstances to, and could depend +upon for their secrecy and fidelity; and I found by experience, that to +be friendless is the worst condition, next to being in want that a +woman can be reduced to: I say a woman, because ’tis evident men can be +their own advisers, and their own directors, and know how to work +themselves out of difficulties and into business better than women; but +if a woman has no friend to communicate her affairs to, and to advise +and assist her, ’tis ten to one but she is undone; nay, and the more +money she has, the more danger she is in of being wronged and deceived; +and this was my case in the affair of the £100 which I left in the +hands of the goldsmith, as above, whose credit, it seems, was upon the +ebb before, but I, that had no knowledge of things and nobody to +consult with, knew nothing of it, and so lost my money. + +In the next place, when a woman is thus left desolate and void of +counsel, she is just like a bag of money or a jewel dropped on the +highway, which is a prey to the next comer; if a man of virtue and +upright principles happens to find it, he will have it cried, and the +owner may come to hear of it again; but how many times shall such a +thing fall into hands that will make no scruple of seizing it for their +own, to once that it shall come into good hands? + +This was evidently my case, for I was now a loose, unguided creature, +and had no help, no assistance, no guide for my conduct; I knew what I +aimed at and what I wanted, but knew nothing how to pursue the end by +direct means. I wanted to be placed in a settled state of living, and +had I happened to meet with a sober, good husband, I should have been +as faithful and true a wife to him as virtue itself could have formed. +If I had been otherwise, the vice came in always at the door of +necessity, not at the door of inclination; and I understood too well, +by the want of it, what the value of a settled life was, to do anything +to forfeit the felicity of it; nay, I should have made the better wife +for all the difficulties I had passed through, by a great deal; nor did +I in any of the time that I had been a wife give my husbands the least +uneasiness on account of my behaviour. + +But all this was nothing; I found no encouraging prospect. I waited; I +lived regularly, and with as much frugality as became my circumstances, +but nothing offered, nothing presented, and the main stock wasted +apace. What to do I knew not; the terror of approaching poverty lay +hard upon my spirits. I had some money, but where to place it I knew +not, nor would the interest of it maintain me, at least not in London. + +At length a new scene opened. There was in the house where I lodged a +north-country woman that went for a gentlewoman, and nothing was more +frequent in her discourse than her account of the cheapness of +provisions, and the easy way of living in her country; how plentiful +and how cheap everything was, what good company they kept, and the +like; till at last I told her she almost tempted me to go and live in +her country; for I that was a widow, though I had sufficient to live +on, yet had no way of increasing it; and that I found I could not live +here under £100 a year, unless I kept no company, no servant, made no +appearance, and buried myself in privacy, as if I was obliged to it by +necessity. + +I should have observed, that she was always made to believe, as +everybody else was, that I was a great fortune, or at least that I had +three or four thousand pounds, if not more, and all in my own hands; +and she was mighty sweet upon me when she thought me inclined in the +least to go into her country. She said she had a sister lived near +Liverpool, that her brother was a considerable gentleman there, and had +a great estate also in Ireland; that she would go down there in about +two months, and if I would give her my company thither, I should be as +welcome as herself for a month or more as I pleased, till I should see +how I liked the country; and if I thought fit to live there, she would +undertake they would take care, though they did not entertain lodgers +themselves, they would recommend me to some agreeable family, where I +should be placed to my content. + +If this woman had known my real circumstances, she would never have +laid so many snares, and taken so many weary steps to catch a poor +desolate creature that was good for little when it was caught; and +indeed I, whose case was almost desperate, and thought I could not be +much worse, was not very anxious about what might befall me, provided +they did me no personal injury; so I suffered myself, though not +without a great deal of invitation and great professions of sincere +friendship and real kindness—I say, I suffered myself to be prevailed +upon to go with her, and accordingly I packed up my baggage, and put +myself in a posture for a journey, though I did not absolutely know +whither I was to go. + +And now I found myself in great distress; what little I had in the +world was all in money, except as before, a little plate, some linen, +and my clothes; as for my household stuff, I had little or none, for I +had lived always in lodgings; but I had not one friend in the world +with whom to trust that little I had, or to direct me how to dispose of +it, and this perplexed me night and day. I thought of the bank, and of +the other companies in London, but I had no friend to commit the +management of it to, and keep and carry about with me bank bills, +tallies, orders, and such things, I looked upon at as unsafe; that if +they were lost, my money was lost, and then I was undone; and, on the +other hand, I might be robbed and perhaps murdered in a strange place +for them. This perplexed me strangely, and what to do I knew not. + +It came in my thoughts one morning that I would go to the bank myself, +where I had often been to receive the interest of some bills I had, +which had interest payable on them, and where I had found a clerk, to +whom I applied myself, very honest and just to me, and particularly so +fair one time that when I had mistold my money, and taken less than my +due, and was coming away, he set me to rights and gave me the rest, +which he might have put into his own pocket. + +I went to him and represented my case very plainly, and asked if he +would trouble himself to be my adviser, who was a poor friendless +widow, and knew not what to do. He told me, if I desired his opinion of +anything within the reach of his business, he would do his endeavour +that I should not be wronged, but that he would also help me to a good +sober person who was a grave man of his acquaintance, who was a clerk +in such business too, though not in their house, whose judgment was +good, and whose honesty I might depend upon. “For,” added he, “I will +answer for him, and for every step he takes; if he wrongs you, madam, +of one farthing, it shall lie at my door, I will make it good; and he +delights to assist people in such cases—he does it as an act of +charity.” + +I was a little at a stand in this discourse; but after some pause I +told him I had rather have depended upon him, because I had found him +honest, but if that could not be, I would take his recommendation +sooner than any one’s else. “I dare say, madam,” says he, “that you +will be as well satisfied with my friend as with me, and he is +thoroughly able to assist you, which I am not.” It seems he had his +hands full of the business of the bank, and had engaged to meddle with +no other business than that of his office, which I heard afterwards, +but did not understand then. He added, that his friend should take +nothing of me for his advice or assistance, and this indeed encouraged +me very much. + +He appointed the same evening, after the bank was shut and business +over, for me to meet him and his friend. And indeed as soon as I saw +his friend, and he began but to talk of the affair, I was fully +satisfied that I had a very honest man to deal with; his countenance +spoke it, and his character, as I heard afterwards, was everywhere so +good, that I had no room for any more doubts upon me. + +After the first meeting, in which I only said what I had said before, +we parted, and he appointed me to come the next day to him, telling me +I might in the meantime satisfy myself of him by inquiry, which, +however, I knew not how well to do, having no acquaintance myself. + +Accordingly I met him the next day, when I entered more freely with him +into my case. I told him my circumstances at large: that I was a widow +come over from America, perfectly desolate and friendless; that I had a +little money, and but a little, and was almost distracted for fear of +losing it, having no friend in the world to trust with the management +of it; that I was going into the north of England to live cheap, that +my stock might not waste; that I would willingly lodge my money in the +bank, but that I durst not carry the bills about me, and the like, as +above; and how to correspond about it, or with whom, I knew not. + +He told me I might lodge the money in the bank as an account, and its +being entered into the books would entitle me to the money at any time, +and if I was in the north I might draw bills on the cashier and receive +it when I would; but that then it would be esteemed as running cash, +and the bank would give no interest for it; that I might buy stock with +it, and so it would lie in store for me, but that then if I wanted to +dispose if it, I must come up to town on purpose to transfer it, and +even it would be with some difficulty I should receive the half-yearly +dividend, unless I was here in person, or had some friend I could trust +with having the stock in his name to do it for me, and that would have +the same difficulty in it as before; and with that he looked hard at me +and smiled a little. At last, says he, “Why do you not get a head +steward, madam, that may take you and your money together into keeping, +and then you would have the trouble taken off your hands?” “Ay, sir, +and the money too, it may be,” said I; “for truly I find the hazard +that way is as much as ’tis t’other way”; but I remember I said +secretly to myself, “I wish you would ask me the question fairly, I +would consider very seriously on it before I said No.” + +He went on a good way with me, and I thought once or twice he was in +earnest, but to my real affliction, I found at last he had a wife; but +when he owned he had a wife he shook his head, and said with some +concern, that indeed he had a wife, and no wife. I began to think he +had been in the condition of my late lover, and that his wife had been +distempered or lunatic, or some such thing. However, we had not much +more discourse at that time, but he told me he was in too much hurry of +business then, but that if I would come home to his house after their +business was over, he would by that time consider what might be done +for me, to put my affairs in a posture of security. I told him I would +come, and desired to know where he lived. He gave me a direction in +writing, and when he gave it me he read it to me, and said, “There +’tis, madam, if you dare trust yourself with me.” “Yes, sir,” said I, +“I believe I may venture to trust you with myself, for you have a wife, +you say, and I don’t want a husband; besides, I dare trust you with my +money, which is all I have in the world, and if that were gone, I may +trust myself anywhere.” + +He said some things in jest that were very handsome and mannerly, and +would have pleased me very well if they had been in earnest; but that +passed over, I took the directions, and appointed to attend him at his +house at seven o’clock the same evening. + +When I came he made several proposals for my placing my money in the +bank, in order to my having interest for it; but still some difficulty +or other came in the way, which he objected as not safe; and I found +such a sincere disinterested honesty in him, that I began to muse with +myself, that I had certainly found the honest man I wanted, and that I +could never put myself into better hands; so I told him with a great +deal of frankness that I had never met with a man or woman yet that I +could trust, or in whom I could think myself safe, but that I saw he +was so disinterestedly concerned for my safety, that I said I would +freely trust him with the management of that little I had, if he would +accept to be steward for a poor widow that could give him no salary. + +He smiled and, standing up, with great respect saluted me. He told me +he could not but take it very kindly that I had so good an opinion of +him; that he would not deceive me, that he would do anything in his +power to serve me, and expect no salary; but that he could not by any +means accept of a trust, that it might bring him to be suspected of +self-interest, and that if I should die he might have disputes with my +executors, which he should be very loth to encumber himself with. + +I told him if those were all his objections I would soon remove them, +and convince him that there was not the least room for any difficulty; +for that, first, as for suspecting him, if ever I should do it, now +is the time to suspect him, and not put the trust into his hands, and +whenever I did suspect him, he could but throw it up then and refuse +to go any further. Then, as to executors, I assured him I had no +heirs, nor any relations in England, and I would have neither heirs +nor executors but himself, unless I should alter my condition before +I died, and then his trust and trouble should cease together, which, +however, I had no prospect of yet; but I told him if I died as I was, +it should be all his own, and he would deserve it by being so faithful +to me as I was satisfied he would be. + +He changed his countenance at this discourse, and asked me how I came +to have so much good-will for him; and, looking very much pleased, said +he might very lawfully wish he was a single man for my sake. I smiled, +and told him as he was not, my offer could have no design upon him in +it, and to wish, as he did, was not to be allowed, ’twas criminal to +his wife. + +He told me I was wrong. “For,” says he, “madam, as I said before, I +have a wife and no wife, and ’twould be no sin to me to wish her +hanged, if that were all.” “I know nothing of your circumstances that +way, sir,” said I; “but it cannot be innocent to wish your wife dead.” +“I tell you,” says he again, “she is a wife and no wife; you don’t know +what I am, or what she is.” + +“That’s true,” said I; “sir, I do not know what you are, but I believe +you to be an honest man, and that’s the cause of all my confidence in +you.” + +“Well, well,” says he, “and so I am, I hope, too. But I am something +else too, madam; for,” says he, “to be plain with you, I am a cuckold, +and she is a whore.” He spoke it in a kind of jest, but it was with +such an awkward smile, that I perceived it was what struck very close +to him, and he looked dismally when he said it. + +“That alters the case indeed, sir,” said I, “as to that part you were +speaking of; but a cuckold, you know, may be an honest man; it does not +alter that case at all. Besides, I think,” said I, “since your wife is +so dishonest to you, you are too honest to her to own her for your +wife; but that,” said I, “is what I have nothing to do with.” + +“Nay,” says he, “I do not think to clear my hands of her; for, to be +plain with you, madam,” added he, “I am no contented cuckold neither: +on the other hand, I assure you it provokes me the highest degree, but +I can’t help myself; she that will be a whore, will be a whore.” + +I waived the discourse and began to talk of my business; but I found he +could not have done with it, so I let him alone, and he went on to tell +me all the circumstances of his case, too long to relate here; +particularly, that having been out of England some time before he came +to the post he was in, she had had two children in the meantime by an +officer of the army; and that when he came to England and, upon her +submission, took her again, and maintained her very well, yet she ran +away from him with a linen-draper’s apprentice, robbed him of what she +could come at, and continued to live from him still. “So that, madam,” +says he, “she is a whore not by necessity, which is the common bait of +your sex, but by inclination, and for the sake of the vice.” + +Well, I pitied him, and wished him well rid of her, and still would +have talked of my business, but it would not do. At last he looks +steadily at me. “Look you, madam,” says he, “you came to ask advice of +me, and I will serve you as faithfully as if you were my own sister; +but I must turn the tables, since you oblige me to do it, and are so +friendly to me, and I think I must ask advice of you. Tell me, what +must a poor abused fellow do with a whore? What can I do to do myself +justice upon her?” + +“Alas! sir,” says I, “’tis a case too nice for me to advise in, but it +seems she has run away from you, so you are rid of her fairly; what can +you desire more?” “Ay, she is gone indeed,” said he, “but I am not +clear of her for all that.” + +“That’s true,” says I; “she may indeed run you into debt, but the law +has furnished you with methods to prevent that also; you may cry her +down, as they call it.” + +“No, no,” says he, “that is not the case neither; I have taken care of +all that; ’tis not that part that I speak of, but I would be rid of her +so that I might marry again.” + +“Well, sir,” says I, “then you must divorce her. If you can prove what +you say, you may certainly get that done, and then, I suppose, you are +free.” + +“That’s very tedious and expensive,” says he. + +“Why,” says I, “if you can get any woman you like to take your word, I +suppose your wife would not dispute the liberty with you that she takes +herself.” + +“Ay,” says he, “but ’twould be hard to bring an honest woman to do +that; and for the other sort,” says he, “I have had enough of her to +meddle with any more whores.” + +It occurred to me presently, “I would have taken your word with all my +heart, if you had but asked me the question”; but that was to myself. +To him I replied, “Why, you shut the door against any honest woman +accepting you, for you condemn all that should venture upon you at +once, and conclude, that really a woman that takes you now can’t be +honest.” + +“Why,” says he, “I wish you would satisfy me that an honest woman would +take me; I’d venture it”; and then turns short upon me, “Will you take +me, madam?” + +“That’s not a fair question,” says I, “after what you have said; +however, lest you should think I wait only for a recantation of it, I +shall answer you plainly, No, not I; my business is of another kind +with you, and I did not expect you would have turned my serious +application to you, in my own distracted case, into a comedy.” + +“Why, madam,” says he, “my case is as distracted as yours can be, and I +stand in as much need of advice as you do, for I think if I have not +relief somewhere, I shall be made myself, and I know not what course to +take, I protest to you.” + +“Why, sir,” says I, “’tis easy to give advice in your case, much easier +than it is in mine.” “Speak then,” says he, “I beg of you, for now you +encourage me.” + +“Why,” says I, “if your case is so plain as you say it is, you may be +legally divorced, and then you may find honest women enough to ask the +question of fairly; the sex is not so scarce that you can want a wife.” + +“Well, then,” said he, “I am in earnest; I’ll take your advice; but +shall I ask you one question seriously beforehand?” + +“Any question,” said I, “but that you did before.” + +“No, that answer will not do,” said he, “for, in short, that is the +question I shall ask.” + +“You may ask what questions you please, but you have my answer to that +already,” said I. “Besides, sir,” said I, “can you think so ill of me +as that I would give any answer to such a question beforehand? Can any +woman alive believe you in earnest, or think you design anything but to +banter her?” + +“Well, well,” says he, “I do not banter you, I am in earnest; consider +of it.” + +“But, sir,” says I, a little gravely, “I came to you about my own +business; I beg of you to let me know, what you will advise me to do?” + +“I will be prepared,” says he, “against you come again.” + +“Nay,” says I, “you have forbid my coming any more.” + +“Why so?” said he, and looked a little surprised. + +“Because,” said I, “you can’t expect I should visit you on the account +you talk of.” + +“Well,” says he, “you shall promise me to come again, however, and I +will not say any more of it till I have gotten the divorce, but I +desire you will prepare to be better conditioned when that’s done, for +you shall be the woman, or I will not be divorced at all; why, I owe it +to your unlooked-for kindness, if it were to nothing else, but I have +other reasons too.” + +He could not have said anything in the world that pleased me better; +however, I knew that the way to secure him was to stand off while the +thing was so remote, as it appeared to be, and that it was time enough +to accept of it when he was able to perform it; so I said very +respectfully to him, it was time enough to consider of these things +when he was in a condition to talk of them; in the meantime, I told +him, I was going a great way from him, and he would find objects enough +to please him better. We broke off here for the present, and he made me +promise him to come again the next day, for his resolutions upon my own +business, which after some pressing I did; though had he seen farther +into me, I wanted no pressing on that account. + +I came the next evening, accordingly, and brought my maid with me, to +let him see that I kept a maid, but I sent her away as soon as I was +gone in. He would have had me let the maid have stayed, but I would +not, but ordered her aloud to come for me again about nine o’clock. But +he forbade that, and told me he would see me safe home, which, by the +way, I was not very well pleased with, supposing he might do that to +know where I lived and inquire into my character and circumstances. +However, I ventured that, for all that the people there or thereabout +knew of me, was to my advantage; and all the character he had of me, +after he had inquired, was that I was a woman of fortune, and that I +was a very modest, sober body; which, whether true or not in the main, +yet you may see how necessary it is for all women who expect anything +in the world, to preserve the character of their virtue, even when +perhaps they may have sacrificed the thing itself. + +I found, and was not a little pleased with it, that he had provided a +supper for me. I found also he lived very handsomely, and had a house +very handsomely furnished; all of which I was rejoiced at indeed, for I +looked upon it as all my own. + +We had now a second conference upon the subject-matter of the last +conference. He laid his business very home indeed; he protested his +affection to me, and indeed I had no room to doubt it; he declared that +it began from the first moment I talked with him, and long before I had +mentioned leaving my effects with him. “’Tis no matter when it began,” +thought I; “if it will but hold, ’twill be well enough.” He then told +me how much the offer I had made of trusting him with my effects, and +leaving them to him, had engaged him. “So I intended it should,” +thought I, “but then I thought you had been a single man too.” After we +had supped, I observed he pressed me very hard to drink two or three +glasses of wine, which, however, I declined, but drank one glass or +two. He then told me he had a proposal to make to me, which I should +promise him I would not take ill if I should not grant it. I told him I +hoped he would make no dishonourable proposal to me, especially in his +own house, and that if it was such, I desired he would not propose it, +that I might not be obliged to offer any resentment to him that did not +become the respect I professed for him, and the trust I had placed in +him in coming to his house; and begged of him he would give me leave to +go away, and accordingly began to put on my gloves and prepare to be +gone, though at the same time I no more intended it than he intended to +let me. + +Well, he importuned me not to talk of going; he assured me he had no +dishonourable thing in his thoughts about me, and was very far from +offering anything to me that was dishonourable, and if I thought so, he +would choose to say no more of it. + +That part I did not relish at all. I told him I was ready to hear +anything that he had to say, depending that he would say nothing +unworthy of himself, or unfit for me to hear. Upon this, he told me his +proposal was this: that I would marry him, though he had not yet +obtained the divorce from the whore his wife; and to satisfy me that he +meant honourably, he would promise not to desire me to live with him, +or go to bed with him till the divorce was obtained. My heart said yes +to this offer at first word, but it was necessary to play the hypocrite +a little more with him; so I seemed to decline the motion with some +warmth, and besides a little condemning the thing as unfair, told him +that such a proposal could be of no signification, but to entangle us +both in great difficulties; for if he should not at last obtain the +divorce, yet we could not dissolve the marriage, neither could we +proceed in it; so that if he was disappointed in the divorce, I left +him to consider what a condition we should both be in. + +In short, I carried on the argument against this so far, that I +convinced him it was not a proposal that had any sense in it. Well, +then he went from it to another, and that was, that I would sign and +seal a contract with him, conditioning to marry him as soon as the +divorce was obtained, and to be void if he could not obtain it. + +I told him such a thing was more rational than the other; but as this +was the first time that ever I could imagine him weak enough to be in +earnest in this affair, I did not use to say Yes at first asking; I +would consider of it. + +I played with this lover as an angler does with a trout. I found I had +him fast on the hook, so I jested with his new proposal, and put him +off. I told him he knew little of me, and bade him inquire about me; I +let him also go home with me to my lodging, though I would not ask him +to go in, for I told him it was not decent. + +In short, I ventured to avoid signing a contract of marriage, and the +reason why I did it was because the lady that had invited me so +earnestly to go with her into Lancashire insisted so positively upon +it, and promised me such great fortunes, and such fine things there, +that I was tempted to go and try. “Perhaps,” said I, “I may mend myself +very much”; and then I made no scruple in my thoughts of quitting my +honest citizen, whom I was not so much in love with as not to leave him +for a richer. + +In a word, I avoided a contract; but told him I would go into the +north, that he should know where to write to me by the consequence of +the business I had entrusted with him; that I would give him a +sufficient pledge of my respect for him, for I would leave almost all I +had in the world in his hands; and I would thus far give him my word, +that as soon as he had sued out a divorce from his first wife, he would +send me an account of it, I would come up to London, and that then we +would talk seriously of the matter. + +It was a base design I went with, that I must confess, though I was +invited thither with a design much worse than mine was, as the sequel +will discover. Well, I went with my friend, as I called her, into +Lancashire. All the way we went she caressed me with the utmost +appearance of a sincere, undissembled affection; treated me, except my +coach-hire, all the way; and her brother brought a gentleman’s coach to +Warrington to receive us, and we were carried from thence to Liverpool +with as much ceremony as I could desire. We were also entertained at a +merchant’s house in Liverpool three or four days very handsomely; I +forbear to tell his name, because of what followed. Then she told me +she would carry me to an uncle’s house of hers, where we should be +nobly entertained. She did so; her uncle, as she called him, sent a +coach and four horses for us, and we were carried near forty miles I +know not whither. + +We came, however, to a gentleman’s seat, where was a numerous family, a +large park, extraordinary company indeed, and where she was called +cousin. I told her if she had resolved to bring me into such company as +this, she should have let me have prepared myself, and have furnished +myself with better clothes. The ladies took notice of that, and told me +very genteelly they did not value people in their country so much by +their clothes as they did in London; that their cousin had fully +informed them of my quality, and that I did not want clothes to set me +off; in short, they entertained me, not like what I was, but like what +they thought I had been, namely, a widow lady of a great fortune. + +The first discovery I made here was, that the family were all Roman +Catholics, and the cousin too, whom I called my friend; however, I must +say that nobody in the world could behave better to me, and I had all +the civility shown me that I could have had if I had been of their +opinion. The truth is, I had not so much principle of any kind as to be +nice in point of religion, and I presently learned to speak favourably +of the Romish Church; particularly, I told them I saw little but the +prejudice of education in all the difference that were among Christians +about religion, and if it had so happened that my father had been a +Roman Catholic, I doubted not but I should have been as well pleased +with their religion as my own. + +This obliged them in the highest degree, and as I was besieged day and +night with good company and pleasant discourse, so I had two or three +old ladies that lay at me upon the subject of religion too. I was so +complaisant, that though I would not completely engage, yet I made no +scruple to be present at their mass, and to conform to all their +gestures as they showed me the pattern, but I would not come too cheap; +so that I only in the main encouraged them to expect that I would turn +Roman Catholic, if I was instructed in the Catholic doctrine as they +called it, and so the matter rested. + +I stayed here about six weeks; and then my conductor led me back to a +country village, about six miles from Liverpool, where her brother (as +she called him) came to visit me in his own chariot, and in a very good +figure, with two footmen in a good livery; and the next thing was to +make love to me. As it had happened to me, one would think I could not +have been cheated, and indeed I thought so myself, having a safe card +at home, which I resolved not to quit unless I could mend myself very +much. However, in all appearance this brother was a match worth my +listening to, and the least his estate was valued at was £1000 a year, +but the sister said it was worth £1500 a year, and lay most of it in +Ireland. + +I that was a great fortune, and passed for such, was above being asked +how much my estate was; and my false friend taking it upon a foolish +hearsay, had raised it from £500 to £5000, and by the time she came +into the country she called it £15,000. The Irishman, for such I +understood him to be, was stark mad at this bait; in short, he courted +me, made me presents, and ran in debt like a madman for the expenses of +his equipage and of his courtship. He had, to give him his due, the +appearance of an extraordinary fine gentleman; he was tall, +well-shaped, and had an extraordinary address; talked as naturally of +his park and his stables, of his horses, his gamekeepers, his woods, +his tenants, and his servants, as if we had been in the mansion-house, +and I had seen them all about me. + +He never so much as asked me about my fortune or estate, but assured me +that when we came to Dublin he would jointure me in £600 a year good +land; and that we could enter into a deed of settlement or contract +here for the performance of it. + +This was such language indeed as I had not been used to, and I was here +beaten out of all my measures; I had a she-devil in my bosom, every +hour telling me how great her brother lived. One time she would come +for my orders, how I would have my coaches painted, and how lined; and +another time what clothes my page should wear; in short, my eyes were +dazzled. I had now lost my power of saying No, and, to cut the story +short, I consented to be married; but to be the more private, we were +carried farther into the country, and married by a Romish clergyman, +who I was assured would marry us as effectually as a Church of England +parson. + +I cannot say but I had some reflections in this affair upon the +dishonourable forsaking my faithful citizen, who loved me sincerely, +and who was endeavouring to quit himself of a scandalous whore by whom +he had been indeed barbarously used, and promised himself infinite +happiness in his new choice; which choice was now giving up herself to +another in a manner almost as scandalous as hers could be. + +But the glittering shoe of a great estate, and of fine things, which +the deceived creature that was now my deceiver represented every hour +to my imagination, hurried me away, and gave me no time to think of +London, or of anything there, much less of the obligation I had to a +person of infinitely more real merit than what was now before me. + +But the thing was done; I was now in the arms of my new spouse, who +appeared still the same as before; great even to magnificence, and +nothing less than £1000 a year could support the ordinary equipage he +appeared in. + +After we had been married about a month, he began to talk of my going +to West Chester in order to embark for Ireland. However, he did not +hurry me, for we stayed near three weeks longer, and then he sent to +Chester for a coach to meet us at the Black Rock, as they call it, over +against Liverpool. Thither we went in a fine boat they call a pinnace, +with six oars; his servants, and horses, and baggage going in the +ferry-boat. He made his excuse to me that he had no acquaintance in +Chester, but he would go before and get some handsome apartment for me +at a private house. I asked him how long we should stay at Chester. He +said, not at all, any longer than one night or two, but he would +immediately hire a coach to go to Holyhead. Then I told him he should +by no means give himself the trouble to get private lodgings for one +night or two, for that Chester being a great place, I made no doubt but +there would be very good inns and accommodation enough; so we lodged at +an inn in the West Street, not far from the Cathedral; I forget what +sign it was at. + +Here my spouse, talking of my going to Ireland, asked me if I had no +affairs to settle at London before we went off. I told him No, not of +any great consequence, but what might be done as well by letter from +Dublin. “Madam,” says he, very respectfully, “I suppose the greatest +part of your estate, which my sister tells me is most of it in money in +the Bank of England, lies secure enough, but in case it required +transferring, or any way altering its property, it might be necessary +to go up to London and settle those things before we went over.” + +I seemed to look strange at it, and told him I knew not what he meant; +that I had no effects in the Bank of England that I knew of; and I +hoped he could not say that I had ever told him I had. No, he said, I +had not told him so, but his sister had said the greatest part of my +estate lay there. “And I only mentioned it, me dear,” said he, “that if +there was any occasion to settle it, or order anything about it, we +might not be obliged to the hazard and trouble of another voyage back +again”; for he added, that he did not care to venture me too much upon +the sea. + +I was surprised at this talk, and began to consider very seriously what +the meaning of it must be; and it presently occurred to me that my +friend, who called him brother, had represented me in colours which +were not my due; and I thought, since it was come to that pitch, that I +would know the bottom of it before I went out of England, and before I +should put myself into I knew not whose hands in a strange country. + +Upon this I called his sister into my chamber the next morning, and +letting her know the discourse her brother and I had been upon the +evening before, I conjured her to tell me what she had said to him, and +upon what foot it was that she had made this marriage. She owned that +she had told him that I was a great fortune, and said that she was told +so at London. “Told so!” says I warmly; “did I ever tell you so?” No, +she said, it was true I did not tell her so, but I had said several +times that what I had was in my own disposal. “I did so,” returned I +very quickly and hastily, “but I never told you I had anything called a +fortune; no, not that I had £100, or the value of £100, in the world. +Any how did it consist with my being a fortune,” said I, “that I should +come here into the north of England with you, only upon the account of +living cheap?” At these words, which I spoke warm and high, my husband, +her brother (as she called him), came into the room, and I desired him +to come and sit down, for I had something of moment to say before them +both, which it was absolutely necessary he should hear. + +He looked a little disturbed at the assurance with which I seemed to +speak it, and came and sat down by me, having first shut the door; upon +which I began, for I was very much provoked, and turning myself to him, +“I am afraid,” says I, “my dear” (for I spoke with kindness on his +side), “that you have a very great abuse put upon you, and an injury +done you never to be repaired in your marrying me, which, however, as I +have had no hand in it, I desire I may be fairly acquitted of it, and +that the blame may lie where it ought to lie, and nowhere else, for I +wash my hands of every part of it.” + +“What injury can be done me, my dear,” says he, “in marrying you. I +hope it is to my honour and advantage every way.” “I will soon explain +it to you,” says I, “and I fear you will have no reason to think +yourself well used; but I will convince you, my dear,” says I again, +“that I have had no hand in it”; and there I stopped a while. + +He looked now scared and wild, and began, I believe, to suspect what +followed; however, looking towards me, and saying only, “Go on,” he sat +silent, as if to hear what I had more to say; so I went on. “I asked +you last night,” said I, speaking to him, “if ever I made any boast to +you of my estate, or ever told you I had any estate in the Bank of +England or anywhere else, and you owned I had not, as is most true; and +I desire you will tell me here, before your sister, if ever I gave you +any reason from me to think so, or that ever we had any discourse about +it”; and he owned again I had not, but said I had appeared always as a +woman of fortune, and he depended on it that I was so, and hoped he was +not deceived. “I am not inquiring yet whether you have been deceived or +not,” said I; “I fear you have, and I too; but I am clearing myself +from the unjust charge of being concerned in deceiving you. + +“I have been now asking your sister if ever I told her of any fortune +or estate I had, or gave her any particulars of it; and she owns I +never did. Any pray, madam,” said I, turning myself to her, “be so just +to me, before your brother, to charge me, if you can, if ever I +pretended to you that I had an estate; and why, if I had, should I come +down into this country with you on purpose to spare that little I had, +and live cheap?” She could not deny one word, but said she had been +told in London that I had a very great fortune, and that it lay in the +Bank of England. + +“And now, dear sir,” said I, turning myself to my new spouse again, “be +so just to me as to tell me who has abused both you and me so much as +to make you believe I was a fortune, and prompt you to court me to this +marriage?” He could not speak a word, but pointed to her; and, after +some more pause, flew out in the most furious passion that ever I saw a +man in my life, cursing her, and calling her all the whores and hard +names he could think of; and that she had ruined him, declaring that +she had told him I had £15,000, and that she was to have £500 of him +for procuring this match for him. He then added, directing his speech +to me, that she was none of his sister, but had been his whore for two +years before, that she had had £100 of him in part of this bargain, and +that he was utterly undone if things were as I said; and in his raving +he swore he would let her heart’s blood out immediately, which +frightened her and me too. She cried, said she had been told so in the +house where I lodged. But this aggravated him more than before, that +she should put so far upon him, and run things such a length upon no +other authority than a hearsay; and then, turning to me again, said +very honestly, he was afraid we were both undone. “For, to be plain, my +dear, I have no estate,” says he; “what little I had, this devil has +made me run out in waiting on you and putting me into this equipage.” +She took the opportunity of his being earnest in talking with me, and +got out of the room, and I never saw her more. + +I was confounded now as much as he, and knew not what to say. I thought +many ways that I had the worst of it, but his saying he was undone, and +that he had no estate neither, put me into a mere distraction. “Why,” +says I to him, “this has been a hellish juggle, for we are married here +upon the foot of a double fraud; you are undone by the disappointment, +it seems; and if I had had a fortune I had been cheated too, for you +say you have nothing.” + +“You would indeed have been cheated, my dear,” says he, “but you would +not have been undone, for £15,000 would have maintained us both very +handsomely in this country; and I assure you,” added he, “I had +resolved to have dedicated every groat of it to you; I would not have +wronged you of a shilling, and the rest I would have made up in my +affection to you, and tenderness of you, as long as I lived.” + +This was very honest indeed, and I really believe he spoke as he +intended, and that he was a man that was as well qualified to make me +happy, as to his temper and behaviour, as any man ever was; but his +having no estate, and being run into debt on this ridiculous account in +the country, made all the prospect dismal and dreadful, and I knew not +what to say, or what to think of myself. + +I told him it was very unhappy that so much love, and so much good +nature as I discovered in him, should be thus precipitated into misery; +that I saw nothing before us but ruin; for as to me, it was my +unhappiness that what little I had was not able to relieve us week, and +with that I pulled out a bank bill of £20 and eleven guineas, which I +told him I had saved out of my little income, and that by the account +that creature had given me of the way of living in that country, I +expected it would maintain me three or four years; that if it was taken +from me, I was left destitute, and he knew what the condition of a +woman among strangers must be, if she had no money in her pocket; +however, I told him, if he would take it, there it was. + +He told me with a great concern, and I thought I saw tears stand in his +eyes, that he would not touch it; that he abhorred the thoughts of +stripping me and make me miserable; that, on the contrary, he had fifty +guineas left, which was all he had in the world, and he pulled it out +and threw it down on the table, bidding me take it, though he were to +starve for want of it. + +I returned, with the same concern for him, that I could not bear to +hear him talk so; that, on the contrary, if he could propose any +probable method of living, I would do anything that became me on my +part, and that I would live as close and as narrow as he could desire. + +He begged of me to talk no more at that rate, for it would make him +distracted; he said he was bred a gentleman, though he was reduced to a +low fortune, and that there was but one way left which he could think +of, and that would not do, unless I could answer him one question, +which, however, he said he would not press me to. I told him I would +answer it honestly; whether it would be to his satisfaction or not, +that I could not tell. + +“Why, then, my dear, tell me plainly,” says he, “will the little you +have keep us together in any figure, or in any station or place, or +will it not?” + +It was my happiness hitherto that I had not discovered myself or my +circumstances at all—no, not so much as my name; and seeing these was +nothing to be expected from him, however good-humoured and however +honest he seemed to be, but to live on what I knew would soon be +wasted, I resolved to conceal everything but the bank bill and the +eleven guineas which I had owned; and I would have been very glad to +have lost that and have been set down where he took me up. I had indeed +another bank bill about me of £30, which was the whole of what I +brought with me, as well to subsist on in the country, as not knowing +what might offer; because this creature, the go-between that had thus +betrayed us both, had made me believe strange things of my marrying to +my advantage in the country, and I was not willing to be without money, +whatever might happen. This bill I concealed, and that made me the +freer of the rest, in consideration of his circumstances, for I really +pitied him heartily. + +But to return to his question, I told him I never willingly deceived +him, and I never would. I was very sorry to tell him that the little I +had would not subsist us; that it was not sufficient to subsist me +alone in the south country, and that this was the reason that made me +put myself into the hands of that woman who called him brother, she +having assured me that I might board very handsomely at a town called +Manchester, where I had not yet been, for about £6 a year; and my whole +income not being about £15 a year, I thought I might live easy upon it, +and wait for better things. + +He shook his head and remained silent, and a very melancholy evening we +had; however, we supped together, and lay together that night, and when +we had almost supped he looked a little better and more cheerful, and +called for a bottle of wine. “Come, my dear,” says he, “though the case +is bad, it is to no purpose to be dejected. Come, be as easy as you +can; I will endeavour to find out some way or other to live; if you can +but subsist yourself, that is better than nothing. I must try the world +again; a man ought to think like a man; to be discouraged is to yield +to the misfortune.” With this he filled a glass and drank to me, +holding my hand and pressing it hard in his hand all the while the wine +went down, and protesting afterwards his main concern was for me. + +It was really a true, gallant spirit he was of, and it was the more +grievous to me. ’Tis something of relief even to be undone by a man of +honour, rather than by a scoundrel; but here the greatest +disappointment was on his side, for he had really spent a great deal of +money, deluded by this madam the procuress; and it was very remarkable +on what poor terms he proceeded. First the baseness of the creature +herself is to be observed, who, for the getting £100 herself, could be +content to let him spend three or four more, though perhaps it was all +he had in the world, and more than all; when she had not the least +ground, more than a little tea-table chat, to say that I had any +estate, or was a fortune, or the like. It is true the design of +deluding a woman of fortune, if I had been so, was base enough; the +putting the face of great things upon poor circumstances was a fraud, +and bad enough; but the case a little differed too, and that in his +favour, for he was not a rake that made a trade to delude women, and, +as some have done, get six or seven fortunes after one another, and +then rifle and run away from them; but he was really a gentleman, +unfortunate and low, but had lived well; and though, if I had had a +fortune, I should have been enraged at the slut for betraying me, yet +really for the man, a fortune would not have been ill bestowed on him, +for he was a lovely person indeed, of generous principles, good sense, +and of abundance of good-humour. + +We had a great deal of close conversation that night, for we neither of +us slept much; he was as penitent for having put all those cheats upon +me as if it had been felony, and that he was going to execution; he +offered me again every shilling of the money he had about him, and said +he would go into the army and seek the world for more. + +I asked him why he would be so unkind to carry me into Ireland, when I +might suppose he could not have subsisted me there. He took me in his +arms. “My dear,” said he, “depend upon it, I never designed to go to +Ireland at all, much less to have carried you thither, but came hither +to be out of the observation of the people, who had heard what I +pretended to, and withal, that nobody might ask me for money before I +was furnished to supply them.” + +“But where, then,” said I, “were we to have gone next?” + +“Why, my dear,” said he, “I’ll confess the whole scheme to you as I had +laid it; I purposed here to ask you something about your estate, as you +see I did, and when you, as I expected you would, had entered into some +account with me of the particulars, I would have made an excuse to you +to have put off our voyage to Ireland for some time, and to have gone +first towards London. + +“Then, my dear,” said he, “I resolved to have confessed all the +circumstances of my own affairs to you, and let you know I had indeed +made use of these artifices to obtain your consent to marry me, but had +now nothing to do but ask to your pardon, and to tell you how +abundantly, as I have said above, I would endeavour to make you forget +what was past, by the felicity of the days to come.” + +“Truly,” said I to him, “I find you would soon have conquered me; and +it is my affliction now, that I am not in a condition to let you see +how easily I should have been reconciled to you, and have passed by all +the tricks you had put upon me, in recompense of so much good-humour. +But, my dear,” said I, “what can we do now? We are both undone, and +what better are we for our being reconciled together, seeing we have +nothing to live on?” + +We proposed a great many things, but nothing could offer where there +was nothing to begin with. He begged me at last to talk no more of it, +for, he said, I would break his heart; so we talked of other things a +little, till at last he took a husband’s leave of me, and so we went to +sleep. + +He rose before me in the morning; and indeed, having lain awake almost +all night, I was very sleepy, and lay till near eleven o’clock. In this +time he took his horses and three servants, and all his linen and +baggage, and away he went, leaving a short but moving letter for me on +the table, as follows:— + + “MY DEAR—I am a dog; I have abused you; but I have been drawn into + do it by a base creature, contrary to my principle and the general + practice of my life. Forgive me, my dear! I ask your pardon with + the greatest sincerity; I am the most miserable of men, in having + deluded you. I have been so happy to possess you, and now am so + wretched as to be forced to fly from you. Forgive me, my dear; + once more I say, forgive me! I am not able to see you ruined by + me, and myself unable to support you. Our marriage is nothing; I + shall never be able to see you again; I here discharge you from + it; if you can marry to your advantage, do not decline it on my + account; I here swear to you on my faith, and on the word of a man + of honour, I will never disturb your repose if I should know of it, + which, however, is not likely. On the other hand, if you should not + marry, and if good fortune should befall me, it shall be all yours, + wherever you are. + + I have put some of the stock of money I have left into your pocket; + take places for yourself and your maid in the stage-coach, and + go for London; I hope it will bear your charges thither, without + breaking into your own. Again I sincerely ask your pardon, and will + do so as often as I shall ever think of you. + + Adieu, my dear, for ever, + I am, your most affectionately, + J.E.” + + +Nothing that ever befell me in my life sank so deep into my heart as +this farewell. I reproached him a thousand times in my thoughts for +leaving me, for I would have gone with him through the world, if I had +begged my bread. I felt in my pocket, and there found ten guineas, his +gold watch, and two little rings, one a small diamond ring worth only +about £6, and the other a plain gold ring. + +I sat me down and looked upon these things two hours together, and +scarce spoke a word, till my maid interrupted me by telling me my +dinner was ready. I ate but little, and after dinner I fell into a +vehement fit of crying, every now and then calling him by his name, +which was James. “O Jemmy!” said I, “come back, come back. I’ll give +you all I have; I’ll beg, I’ll starve with you.” And thus I ran raving +about the room several times, and then sat down between whiles, and +then walking about again, called upon him to come back, and then cried +again; and thus I passed the afternoon, till about seven o’clock, when +it was near dusk, in the evening, being August, when, to my unspeakable +surprise, he comes back into the inn, but without a servant, and comes +directly up into my chamber. + +I was in the greatest confusion imaginable, and so was he too. I could +not imagine what should be the occasion of it, and began to be at odds +with myself whether to be glad or sorry; but my affection biassed all +the rest, and it was impossible to conceal my joy, which was too great +for smiles, for it burst out into tears. He was no sooner entered the +room but he ran to me and took me in his arms, holding me fast, and +almost stopping my breath with his kisses, but spoke not a word. At +length I began. “My dear,” said I, “how could you go away from me?” to +which he gave no answer, for it was impossible for him to speak. + +When our ecstasies were a little over, he told me he was gone about +fifteen miles, but it was not in his power to go any farther without +coming back to see me again, and to take his leave of me once more. + +I told him how I had passed my time, and how loud I had called him to +come back again. He told me he heard me very plain upon Delamere +Forest, at a place about twelve miles off. I smiled. “Nay,” says he, +“do not think I am in jest, for if ever I heard your voice in my life, +I heard you call me aloud, and sometimes I thought I saw you running +after me.” “Why,” said I, “what did I say?”—for I had not named the +words to him. “You called aloud,” says he, “and said, O Jemmy! O Jemmy! +come back, come back.” + +I laughed at him. “My dear,” says he, “do not laugh, for, depend upon +it, I heard your voice as plain as you hear mine now; if you please, +I’ll go before a magistrate and make oath of it.” I then began to be +amazed and surprised, and indeed frightened, and told him what I had +really done, and how I had called after him, as above. + +When we had amused ourselves a while about this, I said to him: “Well, +you shall go away from me no more; I’ll go all over the world with you +rather.” He told me it would be a very difficult thing for him to leave +me, but since it must be, he hoped I would make it as easy to me as I +could; but as for him, it would be his destruction that he foresaw. + +However, he told me that he considered he had left me to travel to +London alone, which was too long a journey; and that as he might as +well go that way as any way else, he was resolved to see me safe +thither, or near it; and if he did go away then without taking his +leave, I should not take it ill of him; and this he made me promise. + +He told me how he had dismissed his three servants, sold their horses, +and sent the fellows away to seek their fortunes, and all in a little +time, at a town on the road, I know not where. “And,” says he, “it cost +me some tears all alone by myself, to think how much happier they were +than their master, for they could go to the next gentleman’s house to +see for a service, whereas,” said he, “I knew not wither to go, or what +to do with myself.” + +I told him I was so completely miserable in parting with him, that I +could not be worse; and that now he was come again, I would not go from +him, if he would take me with him, let him go whither he would, or do +what he would. And in the meantime I agreed that we would go together +to London; but I could not be brought to consent he should go away at +last and not take his leave of me, as he proposed to do; but told him, +jesting, that if he did, I would call him back again as loud as I did +before. Then I pulled out his watch and gave it him back, and his two +rings, and his ten guineas; but he would not take them, which made me +very much suspect that he resolved to go off upon the road and leave +me. + +The truth is, the circumstances he was in, the passionate expressions +of his letter, the kind, gentlemanly treatment I had from him in all +the affair, with the concern he showed for me in it, his manner of +parting with that large share which he gave me of his little stock +left—all these had joined to make such impressions on me, that I really +loved him most tenderly, and could not bear the thoughts of parting +with him. + +Two days after this we quitted Chester, I in the stage-coach, and he on +horseback. I dismissed my maid at Chester. He was very much against my +being without a maid, but she being a servant hired in the country, and +I resolving to keep no servant at London, I told him it would have been +barbarous to have taken the poor wench and have turned her away as soon +as I came to town; and it would also have been a needless charge on the +road, so I satisfied him, and he was easy enough on the score. + +He came with me as far as Dunstable, within thirty miles of London, and +then he told me fate and his own misfortunes obliged him to leave me, +and that it was not convenient for him to go to London, for reasons +which it was of no value to me to know, and I saw him preparing to go. +The stage-coach we were in did not usually stop at Dunstable, but I +desiring it but for a quarter of an hour, they were content to stand at +an inn-door a while, and we went into the house. + +Being in the inn, I told him I had but one favour more to ask of him, +and that was, that since he could not go any farther, he would give me +leave to stay a week or two in the town with him, that we might in that +time think of something to prevent such a ruinous thing to us both, as +a final separation would be; and that I had something of moment to +offer him, that I had never said yet, and which perhaps he might find +practicable to our mutual advantage. + +This was too reasonable a proposal to be denied, so he called the +landlady of the house, and told her his wife was taken ill, and so ill +that she could not think of going any farther in the stage-coach, which +had tired her almost to death, and asked if she could not get us a +lodging for two or three days in a private house, where I might rest me +a little, for the journey had been too much for me. The landlady, a +good sort of woman, well-bred and very obliging, came immediately to +see me; told me she had two or three very good rooms in a part of the +house quite out of the noise, and if I saw them, she did not doubt but +I would like them, and I should have one of her maids, that should do +nothing else but be appointed to wait on me. This was so very kind, +that I could not but accept of it, and thank her; so I went to look on +the rooms and liked them very well, and indeed they were +extraordinarily furnished, and very pleasant lodgings; so we paid the +stage-coach, took out our baggage, and resolved to stay here a while. + +Here I told him I would live with him now till all my money was spent, +but would not let him spend a shilling of his own. We had some kind +squabble about that, but I told him it was the last time I was like to +enjoy his company, and I desired he would let me be master in that +thing only, and he should govern in everything else; so he acquiesced. + +Here one evening, taking a walk into the fields, I told him I would now +make the proposal to him I had told him of; accordingly I related to +him how I had lived in Virginia, that I had a mother I believed was +alive there still, though my husband was dead some years. I told him +that had not my effects miscarried, which, by the way, I magnified +pretty much, I might have been fortune good enough to him to have kept +us from being parted in this manner. Then I entered into the manner of +peoples going over to those countries to settle, how they had a +quantity of land given them by the Constitution of the place; and if +not, that it might be purchased at so easy a rate this it was not worth +naming. + +I then gave him a full and distinct account of the nature of planting; +how with carrying over but two or three hundred pounds value in English +goods, with some servants and tools, a man of application would +presently lay a foundation for a family, and in a very few years be +certain to raise an estate. + +I let him into the nature of the product of the earth; how the ground +was cured and prepared, and what the usual increase of it was; and +demonstrated to him, that in a very few years, with such a beginning, +we should be as certain of being rich as we were now certain of being +poor. + +He was surprised at my discourse; for we made it the whole subject of +our conversation for near a week together, in which time I laid it down +in black and white, as we say, that it was morally impossible, with a +supposition of any reasonable good conduct, but that we must thrive +there and do very well. + +Then I told him what measures I would take to raise such a sum of £300 +or thereabouts; and I argued with him how good a method it would be to +put an end to our misfortunes and restore our circumstances in the +world, to what we had both expected; and I added, that after seven +years, if we lived, we might be in a posture to leave our plantations +in good hands, and come over again and receive the income of it, and +live here and enjoy it; and I gave him examples of some that had done +so, and lived now in very good circumstances in London. + +In short, I pressed him so to it, that he almost agreed to it, but +still something or other broke it off again; till at last he turned the +tables, and he began to talk almost to the same purpose of Ireland. + +He told me that a man that could confine himself to country life, and +that could find but stock to enter upon any land, should have farms +there for £50 a year, as good as were here let for £200 a year; that +the produce was such, and so rich the land, that if much was not laid +up, we were sure to live as handsomely upon it as a gentleman of £3000 +a year could do in England and that he had laid a scheme to leave me in +London, and go over and try; and if he found he could lay a handsome +foundation of living suitable to the respect he had for me, as he +doubted not he should do, he would come over and fetch me. + +I was dreadfully afraid that upon such a proposal he would have taken +me at my word, viz. to sell my little income as I called it, and turn +it into money, and let him carry it over into Ireland and try his +experiment with it; but he was too just to desire it, or to have +accepted it if I had offered it; and he anticipated me in that, for he +added, that he would go and try his fortune that way, and if he found +he could do anything at it to live, then, by adding mine to it when I +went over, we should live like ourselves; but that he would not hazard +a shilling of mine till he had made the experiment with a little, and +he assured me that if he found nothing to be done in Ireland, he would +then come to me and join in my project for Virginia. + +He was so earnest upon his project being to be tried first, that I +could not withstand him; however, he promised to let me hear from him +in a very little time after his arriving there, to let me know whether +his prospect answered his design, that if there was not a possibility +of success, I might take the occasion to prepare for our other voyage, +and then, he assured me, he would go with me to America with all his +heart. + +I could bring him to nothing further than this. However, those +consultations entertained us near a month, during which I enjoyed his +company, which indeed was the most entertaining that ever I met in my +life before. In this time he let me into the whole story of his own +life, which was indeed surprising, and full of an infinite variety +sufficient to fill up a much brighter history, for its adventures and +incidents, than any I ever saw in print; but I shall have occasion to +say more of him hereafter. + +We parted at last, though with the utmost reluctance on my side; and +indeed he took his leave very unwillingly too, but necessity obliged +him, for his reasons were very good why he would not come to London, as +I understood more fully some time afterwards. + +I gave him a direction how to write to me, though still I reserved the +grand secret, and never broke my resolution, which was not to let him +ever know my true name, who I was, or where to be found; he likewise +let me know how to write a letter to him, so that, he said, he would be +sure to receive it. + +I came to London the next day after we parted, but did not go directly +to my old lodgings; but for another nameless reason took a private +lodging in St. John’s Street, or, as it is vulgarly called, St. +Jones’s, near Clerkenwell; and here, being perfectly alone, I had +leisure to sit down and reflect seriously upon the last seven months’ +ramble I had made, for I had been abroad no less. The pleasant hours I +had with my last husband I looked back on with an infinite deal of +pleasure; but that pleasure was very much lessened when I found some +time after that I was really with child. + +This was a perplexing thing, because of the difficulty which was before +me where I should get leave to lie in; it being one of the nicest +things in the world at that time of day for a woman that was a +stranger, and had no friends, to be entertained in that circumstance +without security, which, by the way, I had not, neither could I procure +any. + +I had taken care all this while to preserve a correspondence with my +honest friend at the bank, or rather he took care to correspond with +me, for he wrote to me once a week; and though I had not spent my money +so fast as to want any from him, yet I often wrote also to let him know +I was alive. I had left directions in Lancashire, so that I had these +letters, which he sent, conveyed to me; and during my recess at St. +Jones’s received a very obliging letter from him, assuring me that his +process for a divorce from his wife went on with success, though he met +with some difficulties in it that he did not expect. + +I was not displeased with the news that his process was more tedious +than he expected; for though I was in no condition to have him yet, not +being so foolish to marry him when I knew myself to be with child by +another man, as some I know have ventured to do, yet I was not willing +to lose him, and, in a word, resolved to have him if he continued in +the same mind, as soon as I was up again; for I saw apparently I should +hear no more from my husband; and as he had all along pressed to marry, +and had assured me he would not be at all disgusted at it, or ever +offer to claim me again, so I made no scruple to resolve to do it if I +could, and if my other friend stood to his bargain; and I had a great +deal of reason to be assured that he would stand to it, by the letters +he wrote to me, which were the kindest and most obliging that could be. + +I now grew big, and the people where I lodged perceived it, and began +to take notice of it to me, and, as far as civility would allow, +intimated that I must think of removing. This put me to extreme +perplexity, and I grew very melancholy, for indeed I knew not what +course to take. I had money, but no friends, and was like to have a +child upon my hands to keep, which was a difficulty I had never had +upon me yet, as the particulars of my story hitherto make appear. + +In the course of this affair I fell very ill, and my melancholy really +increased my distemper; my illness proved at length to be only an ague, +but my apprehensions were really that I should miscarry. I should not +say apprehensions, for indeed I would have been glad to miscarry, but I +could never be brought to entertain so much as a thought of +endeavouring to miscarry, or of taking any thing to make me miscarry; I +abhorred, I say, so much as the thought of it. + +However, speaking of it in the house, the gentlewoman who kept the +house proposed to me to send for a midwife. I scrupled it at first, but +after some time consented to it, but told her I had no particular +acquaintance with any midwife, and so left it to her. + +It seems the mistress of the house was not so great a stranger to such +cases as mine was as I thought at first she had been, as will appear +presently, and she sent for a midwife of the right sort—that is to say, +the right sort for me. + +The woman appeared to be an experienced woman in her business, I mean +as a midwife; but she had another calling too, in which she was as +expert as most women if not more. My landlady had told her I was very +melancholy, and that she believed that had done me harm; and once, +before me, said to her, “Mrs. B——” (meaning the midwife), “I believe +this lady’s trouble is of a kind that is pretty much in your way, and +therefore if you can do anything for her, pray do, for she is a very +civil gentlewoman”; and so she went out of the room. + +I really did not understand her, but my Mother Midnight began very +seriously to explain what she meant, as soon as she was gone. “Madam,” +says she, “you seem not to understand what your landlady means; and +when you do understand it, you need not let her know at all that you do +so. + +“She means that you are under some circumstances that may render your +lying in difficult to you, and that you are not willing to be exposed. +I need say no more, but to tell you, that if you think fit to +communicate so much of your case to me, if it be so, as is necessary, +for I do not desire to pry into those things, I perhaps may be in a +position to help you and to make you perfectly easy, and remove all +your dull thoughts upon that subject.” + +Every word this creature said was a cordial to me, and put new life and +new spirit into my heart; my blood began to circulate immediately, and +I was quite another body; I ate my victuals again, and grew better +presently after it. She said a great deal more to the same purpose, and +then, having pressed me to be free with her, and promised in the +solemnest manner to be secret, she stopped a little, as if waiting to +see what impression it made on me, and what I would say. + +I was too sensible to the want I was in of such a woman, not to accept +her offer; I told her my case was partly as she guessed, and partly +not, for I was really married, and had a husband, though he was in such +fine circumstances and so remote at that time, as that he could not +appear publicly. + +She took me short, and told me that was none of her business; all the +ladies that came under her care were married women to her. “Every +woman,” she says, “that is with child has a father for it,” and whether +that father was a husband or no husband, was no business of hers; her +business was to assist me in my present circumstances, whether I had a +husband or no. “For, madam,” says she, “to have a husband that cannot +appear, is to have no husband in the sense of the case; and, therefore, +whether you are a wife or a mistress is all one to me.” + +I found presently, that whether I was a whore or a wife, I was to pass +for a whore here, so I let that go. I told her it was true, as she +said, but that, however, if I must tell her my case, I must tell it her +as it was; so I related it to her as short as I could, and I concluded +it to her thus. “I trouble you with all this, madam,” said I, “not +that, as you said before, it is much to the purpose in your affair, but +this is to the purpose, namely, that I am not in any pain about being +seen, or being public or concealed, for ’tis perfectly indifferent to +me; but my difficulty is, that I have no acquaintance in this part of +the nation.” + +“I understand you, madam” says she; “you have no security to bring to +prevent the parish impertinences usual in such cases, and perhaps,” +says she, “do not know very well how to dispose of the child when it +comes.” “The last,” says I, “is not so much my concern as the first.” +“Well, madam,” answered the midwife, “dare you put yourself into my +hands? I live in such a place; though I do not inquire after you, you +may inquire after me. My name is B——; I live in such a street”—naming +the street—“at the sign of the Cradle. My profession is a midwife, and +I have many ladies that come to my house to lie in. I have given +security to the parish in general terms to secure them from any charge +from whatsoever shall come into the world under my roof. I have but one +question to ask in the whole affair, madam,” says she, “and if that be +answered you shall be entirely easy for all the rest.” + +I presently understood what she meant, and told her, “Madam, I believe +I understand you. I thank God, though I want friends in this part of +the world, I do not want money, so far as may be necessary, though I do +not abound in that neither”: this I added because I would not make her +expect great things. “Well, madam,” says she, “that is the thing +indeed, without which nothing can be done in these cases; and yet,” +says she, “you shall see that I will not impose upon you, or offer +anything that is unkind to you, and if you desire it, you shall know +everything beforehand, that you may suit yourself to the occasion, and +be neither costly or sparing as you see fit.” + +I told her she seemed to be so perfectly sensible of my condition, that +I had nothing to ask of her but this, that as I had told her that I had +money sufficient, but not a great quantity, she would order it so that +I might be at as little superfluous charge as possible. + +She replied that she would bring in an account of the expenses of it in +two or three shapes, and like a bill of fare, I should choose as I +pleased; and I desired her to do so. + +The next day she brought it, and the copy of her three bills was as +follows:— + +1. For three months’ lodging in her house, including my diet, at 10s. +a week . . . . . . . . . . . 6£, 0s., 0d. +2. For a nurse for the month, and use of childbed linen . . . . . . . +. . . . . . . . . . . . . 1£, 10s., 0d. +3. For a minister to christen the child, and to the godfathers and +clerk . . . . . . . . . . . . 1£, 10s., 0d. +4. For a supper at the christening if I had five friends at it . . . . +. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1£, 0s., 0d. + For her fees as a midwife, and the taking off the trouble of the + parish . . . . . . . . . . . . 3£, 3s., 0d. + To her maid servant attending . . . . . . . . 0£, 10s., 0d. + -------------- 13£, 13s., 0d. + + +This was the first bill; the second was the same terms:— + +1. For three months’ lodging and diet, etc., at 20s. per week . . . . +. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13£, 0s., 0d. +2. For a nurse for the month, and the use of linen and lace . . . . . +. . . . . . . . . . . . . 2£, 10s., 0d. +3. For the minister to christen the child, etc., as above . . . . . . +. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2£, 0s., 0d. +4. For supper and for sweetmeats . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . +. . . . 3£, 3s., 0d. + For her fees as above . . . . . . . . . . . . 5£, 5s., 0d. + For a servant-maid . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1£, 0s., 0d. + -------------- 26£, 18s., 0d. + + +This was the second-rate bill; the third, she said, was for a degree +higher, and when the father or friends appeared:— + +1. For three months’ lodging and diet, having two rooms and a garret +for a servant . . . . . . 30£, 0s., 0d., +2. For a nurse for the month, and the finest suit of childbed linen . +. . . . . . . . . . . . . 4£, 4s., 0d. +3. For the minister to christen the child, etc. 2£, 10s., 0d. +4. For a supper, the gentlemen to send in the wine . . . . . . . . . . +. . . . . . . . . . 6£, 0s., 0d. + For my fees, etc. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10£, 10s., 0d. + The maid, besides their own maid, only . . . . . . . . . . . . . . + . . . . . . . . . 0£, 10s., 0d. -------------- 53£, 14s., 0d. + +I looked upon all three bills, and smiled, and told her I did not see +but that she was very reasonable in her demands, all things considered, +and for that I did not doubt but her accommodations were good. + +She told me I should be judge of that when I saw them. I told her I was +sorry to tell her that I feared I must be her lowest-rated customer. +“And perhaps, madam,” said I, “you will make me the less welcome upon +that account.” “No, not at all,” said she; “for where I have one of the +third sort I have two of the second, and four to one of the first, and +I get as much by them in proportion as by any; but if you doubt my care +of you, I will allow any friend you have to overlook and see if you are +well waited on or no.” + +Then she explained the particulars of her bill. “In the first place, +madam,” said she, “I would have you observe that here is three months’ +keeping; you are but ten shillings a week; I undertake to say you will +not complain of my table. I suppose,” says she, “you do not live +cheaper where you are now?” “No, indeed,” said I, “not so cheap, for I +give six shillings per week for my chamber, and find my own diet as +well as I can, which costs me a great deal more.” + +“Then, madam,” says she, “if the child should not live, or should be +dead-born, as you know sometimes happens, then there is the minister’s +article saved; and if you have no friends to come to you, you may save +the expense of a supper; so that take those articles out, madam,” says +she, “your lying in will not cost you above £5, 3s. in all more than +your ordinary charge of living.” + +This was the most reasonable thing that I ever heard of; so I smiled, +and told her I would come and be her customer; but I told her also, +that as I had two months and more to do, I might perhaps be obliged to +stay longer with her than three months, and desired to know if she +would not be obliged to remove me before it was proper. No, she said; +her house was large, and besides, she never put anybody to remove, that +had lain in, till they were willing to go; and if she had more ladies +offered, she was not so ill-beloved among her neighbours but she could +provide accommodations for twenty, if there was occasion. + +I found she was an eminent lady in her way; and, in short, I agreed to +put myself into her hands, and promised her. She then talked of other +things, looked about into my accommodations where I was, found fault +with my wanting attendance and conveniences, and that I should not be +used so at her house. I told her I was shy of speaking, for the woman +of the house looked stranger, or at least I thought so, since I had +been ill, because I was with child; and I was afraid she would put some +affront or other upon me, supposing that I had been able to give but a +slight account of myself. + +“Oh dear,” said she, “her ladyship is no stranger to these things; she +has tried to entertain ladies in your condition several times, but she +could not secure the parish; and besides, she is not such a nice lady +as you take her to be; however, since you are a-going, you shall not +meddle with her, but I’ll see you are a little better looked after +while you are here than I think you are, and it shall not cost you the +more neither.” + +I did not understand her at all; however, I thanked her, and so we +parted. The next morning she sent me a chicken roasted and hot, and a +pint bottle of sherry, and ordered the maid to tell me that she was to +wait on me every day as long as I stayed there. + +This was surprisingly good and kind, and I accepted it very willingly. +At night she sent to me again, to know if I wanted anything, and how I +did, and to order the maid to come to her in the morning with my +dinner. The maid had orders to make me some chocolate in the morning +before she came away, and did so, and at noon she brought me the +sweetbread of a breast of veal, whole, and a dish of soup for my +dinner; and after this manner she nursed me up at a distance, so that I +was mightily well pleased, and quickly well, for indeed my dejections +before were the principal part of my illness. + +I expected, as is usually the case among such people, that the servant +she sent me would have been some imprudent brazen wench of Drury Lane +breeding, and I was very uneasy at having her with me upon that +account; so I would not let her lie in that house the first night by +any means, but had my eyes about me as narrowly as if she had been a +public thief. + +My gentlewoman guessed presently what was the matter, and sent her back +with a short note, that I might depend upon the honesty of her maid; +that she would be answerable for her upon all accounts; and that she +took no servants into her house without very good security for their +fidelity. I was then perfectly easy; and indeed the maid’s behaviour +spoke for itself, for a modester, quieter, soberer girl never came into +anybody’s family, and I found her so afterwards. + +As soon as I was well enough to go abroad, I went with the maid to see +the house, and to see the apartment I was to have; and everything was +so handsome and so clean and well, that, in short, I had nothing to +say, but was wonderfully pleased and satisfied with what I had met +with, which, considering the melancholy circumstances I was in, was far +beyond what I looked for. + +It might be expected that I should give some account of the nature of +the wicked practices of this woman, in whose hands I was now fallen; +but it would be too much encouragement to the vice, to let the world +see what easy measures were here taken to rid the women’s unwelcome +burthen of a child clandestinely gotten. This grave matron had several +sorts of practice, and this was one particular, that if a child was +born, though not in her house (for she had occasion to be called to +many private labours), she had people at hand, who for a piece of money +would take the child off their hands, and off from the hands of the +parish too; and those children, as she said, were honestly provided for +and taken care of. What should become of them all, considering so many, +as by her account she was concerned with, I cannot conceive. + +I had many times discourses upon that subject with her; but she was +full of this argument, that she save the life of many an innocent lamb, +as she called them, which would otherwise perhaps have been murdered; +and of many women who, made desperate by the misfortune, would +otherwise be tempted to destroy their children, and bring themselves to +the gallows. I granted her that this was true, and a very commendable +thing, provided the poor children fell into good hands afterwards, and +were not abused, starved, and neglected by the nurses that bred them +up. She answered, that she always took care of that, and had no nurses +in her business but what were very good, honest people, and such as +might be depended upon. + +I could say nothing to the contrary, and so was obliged to say, “Madam, +I do not question you do your part honestly, but what those people do +afterwards is the main question”; and she stopped my mouth again with +saying that she took the utmost care about it. + +The only thing I found in all her conversation on these subjects that +gave me any distaste, was, that one time in discouraging about my being +far gone with child, and the time I expected to come, she said +something that looked as if she could help me off with my burthen +sooner, if I was willing; or, in English, that she could give me +something to make me miscarry, if I had a desire to put an end to my +troubles that way; but I soon let her see that I abhorred the thoughts +of it; and, to do her justice, she put it off so cleverly, that I could +not say she really intended it, or whether she only mentioned the +practice as a horrible thing; for she couched her words so well, and +took my meaning so quickly, that she gave her negative before I could +explain myself. + +To bring this part into as narrow a compass as possible, I quitted my +lodging at St. Jones’s and went to my new governess, for so they called +her in the house, and there I was indeed treated with so much courtesy, +so carefully looked to, so handsomely provided, and everything so well, +that I was surprised at it, and could not at first see what advantage +my governess made of it; but I found afterwards that she professed to +make no profit of lodgers’ diet, nor indeed could she get much by it, +but that her profit lay in the other articles of her management, and +she made enough that way, I assure you; for ’tis scarce credible what +practice she had, as well abroad as at home, and yet all upon the +private account, or, in plain English, the whoring account. + +While I was in her house, which was near four months, she had no less +than twelve ladies of pleasure brought to bed within the doors, and I +think she had two-and-thirty, or thereabouts, under her conduct without +doors, whereof one, as nice as she was with me, was lodged with my old +landlady at St. Jones’s. + +This was a strange testimony of the growing vice of the age, and such a +one, that as bad as I had been myself, it shocked my very senses. I +began to nauseate the place I was in and, about all, the wicked +practice; and yet I must say that I never saw, or do I believe there +was to be seen, the least indecency in the house the whole time I was +there. + +Not a man was ever seen to come upstairs, except to visit the lying-in +ladies within their month, nor then without the old lady with them, who +made it a piece of honour of her management that no man should touch a +woman, no, not his own wife, within the month; nor would she permit any +man to lie in the house upon any pretence whatever, no, not though she +was sure it was with his own wife; and her general saying for it was, +that she cared not how many children were born in her house, but she +would have none got there if she could help it. + +It might perhaps be carried further than was needful, but it was an +error of the right hand if it was an error, for by this she kept up the +reputation, such as it was, of her business, and obtained this +character, that though she did take care of the women when they were +debauched, yet she was not instrumental to their being debauched at +all; and yet it was a wicked trade she drove too. + +While I was there, and before I was brought to bed, I received a letter +from my trustee at the bank, full of kind, obliging things, and +earnestly pressing me to return to London. It was near a fortnight old +when it came to me, because it had been first sent into Lancashire, and +then returned to me. He concludes with telling me that he had obtained +a decree, I think he called it, against his wife, and that he would be +ready to make good his engagement to me, if I would accept of him, +adding a great many protestations of kindness and affection, such as he +would have been far from offering if he had known the circumstances I +had been in, and which as it was I had been very far from deserving. + +I returned an answer to his letter, and dated it at Liverpool, but sent +it by messenger, alleging that it came in cover to a friend in town. I +gave him joy of his deliverance, but raised some scruples at the +lawfulness of his marrying again, and told him I supposed he would +consider very seriously upon that point before he resolved on it, the +consequence being too great for a man of his judgment to venture rashly +upon a thing of that nature; so concluded, wishing him very well in +whatever he resolved, without letting him into anything of my own mind, +or giving any answer to his proposal of my coming to London to him, but +mentioned at a distance my intention to return the latter end of the +year, this being dated in April. + +I was brought to bed about the middle of May and had another brave boy, +and myself in as good condition as usual on such occasions. My +governess did her part as a midwife with the greatest art and dexterity +imaginable, and far beyond all that ever I had had any experience of +before. + +Her care of me in my travail, and after in my lying in, was such, that +if she had been my own mother it could not have been better. Let none +be encouraged in their loose practices from this dexterous lady’s +management, for she is gone to her place, and I dare say has left +nothing behind her that can or will come up on it. + +I think I had been brought to bed about twenty-two days when I received +another letter from my friend at the bank, with the surprising news +that he had obtained a final sentence of divorce against his wife, and +had served her with it on such a day, and that he had such an answer to +give to all my scruples about his marrying again, as I could not +expect, and as he had no desire of; for that his wife, who had been +under some remorse before for her usage of him, as soon as she had the +account that he had gained his point, had very unhappily destroyed +herself that same evening. + +He expressed himself very handsomely as to his being concerned at her +disaster, but cleared himself of having any hand in it, and that he had +only done himself justice in a case in which he was notoriously injured +and abused. However, he said that he was extremely afflicted at it, and +had no view of any satisfaction left in his world, but only in the hope +that I would come and relieve him by my company; and then he pressed me +violently indeed to give him some hopes that I would at least come up +to town and let him see me, when he would further enter into discourse +about it. + +I was exceedingly surprised at the news, and began now seriously to +reflect on my present circumstances, and the inexpressible misfortune +it was to me to have a child upon my hands, and what to do in it I knew +not. At last I opened my case at a distance to my governess. I appeared +melancholy and uneasy for several days, and she lay at me continually +to know what trouble me. I could not for my life tell her that I had an +offer of marriage, after I had so often told her that I had a husband, +so that I really knew not what to say to her. I owned I had something +which very much troubled me, but at the same time told her I could not +speak of it to any one alive. + +She continued importuning me several days, but it was impossible, I +told her, for me to commit the secret to anybody. This, instead of +being an answer to her, increased her importunities; she urged her +having been trusted with the greatest secrets of this nature, that it +was her business to conceal everything, and that to discover things of +that nature would be her ruin. She asked me if ever I had found her +tattling to me of other people’s affairs, and how could I suspect her? +She told me, to unfold myself to her was telling it to nobody; that she +was silent as death; that it must be a very strange case indeed that +she could not help me out of; but to conceal it was to deprive myself +of all possible help, or means of help, and to deprive her of the +opportunity of serving me. In short, she had such a bewitching +eloquence, and so great a power of persuasion that there was no +concealing anything from her. + +So I resolved to unbosom myself to her. I told her the history of my +Lancashire marriage, and how both of us had been disappointed; how we +came together, and how we parted; how he absolutely discharged me, as +far as lay in him, free liberty to marry again, protesting that if he +knew it he would never claim me, or disturb or expose me; that I +thought I was free, but was dreadfully afraid to venture, for fear of +the consequences that might follow in case of a discovery. + +Then I told her what a good offer I had; showed her my friend’s two +last letters, inviting me to come to London, and let her see with what +affection and earnestness they were written, but blotted out the name, +and also the story about the disaster of his wife, only that she was +dead. + +She fell a-laughing at my scruples about marrying, and told me the +other was no marriage, but a cheat on both sides; and that, as we were +parted by mutual consent, the nature of the contract was destroyed, and +the obligation was mutually discharged. She had arguments for this at +the tip of her tongue; and, in short, reasoned me out of my reason; not +but that it was too by the help of my own inclination. + +But then came the great and main difficulty, and that was the child; +this, she told me in so many words, must be removed, and that so as +that it should never be possible for any one to discover it. I knew +there was no marrying without entirely concealing that I had had a +child, for he would soon have discovered by the age of it that it was +born, nay, and gotten too, since my parley with him, and that would +have destroyed all the affair. + +But it touched my heart so forcibly to think of parting entirely with +the child, and, for aught I knew, of having it murdered, or starved by +neglect and ill-usage (which was much the same), that I could not think +of it without horror. I wish all those women who consent to the +disposing their children out of the way, as it is called, for decency +sake, would consider that ’tis only a contrived method for murder; that +is to say, a-killing their children with safety. + +It is manifest to all that understand anything of children, that we are +born into the world helpless, and incapable either to supply our own +wants or so much as make them known; and that without help we must +perish; and this help requires not only an assisting hand, whether of +the mother or somebody else, but there are two things necessary in that +assisting hand, that is, care and skill; without both which, half the +children that are born would die, nay, though they were not to be +denied food; and one half more of those that remained would be cripples +or fools, lose their limbs, and perhaps their sense. I question not but +that these are partly the reasons why affection was placed by nature in +the hearts of mothers to their children; without which they would never +be able to give themselves up, as ’tis necessary they should, to the +care and waking pains needful to the support of their children. + +Since this care is needful to the life of children, to neglect them is +to murder them; again, to give them up to be managed by those people +who have none of that needful affection placed by nature in them, is to +neglect them in the highest degree; nay, in some it goes farther, and +is a neglect in order to their being lost; so that ’tis even an +intentional murder, whether the child lives or dies. + +All those things represented themselves to my view, and that is the +blackest and most frightful form: and as I was very free with my +governess, whom I had now learned to call mother, I represented to her +all the dark thoughts which I had upon me about it, and told her what +distress I was in. She seemed graver by much at this part than at the +other; but as she was hardened in these things beyond all possibility +of being touched with the religious part, and the scruples about the +murder, so she was equally impenetrable in that part which related to +affection. She asked me if she had not been careful and tender to me in +my lying in, as if I had been her own child. I told her I owned she +had. “Well, my dear,” says she, “and when you are gone, what are you to +me? And what would it be to me if you were to be hanged? Do you think +there are not women who, as it is their trade and they get their bread +by it, value themselves upon their being as careful of children as +their own mothers can be, and understand it rather better? Yes, yes, +child,” says she, “fear it not; how were we nursed ourselves? Are you +sure you was nursed up by your own mother? and yet you look fat and +fair, child,” says the old beldam; and with that she stroked me over +the face. “Never be concerned, child,” says she, going on in her +drolling way; “I have no murderers about me; I employ the best and the +honestest nurses that can be had, and have as few children miscarry +under their hands as there would if they were all nursed by mothers; we +want neither care nor skill.” + +She touched me to the quick when she asked if I was sure that I was +nursed by my own mother; on the contrary I was sure I was not; and I +trembled, and looked pale at the very expression. “Sure,” said I to +myself, “this creature cannot be a witch, or have any conversation with +a spirit, that can inform her what was done with me before I was able +to know it myself”; and I looked at her as if I had been frightened; +but reflecting that it could not be possible for her to know anything +about me, that disorder went off, and I began to be easy, but it was +not presently. + +She perceived the disorder I was in, but did not know the meaning of +it; so she ran on in her wild talk upon the weakness of my supposing +that children were murdered because they were not all nursed by the +mother, and to persuade me that the children she disposed of were as +well used as if the mothers had the nursing of them themselves. + +“It may be true, mother,” says I, “for aught I know, but my doubts are +very strongly grounded indeed.” “Come, then,” says she, “let’s hear +some of them.” “Why, first,” says I, “you give a piece of money to +these people to take the child off the parent’s hands, and to take care +of it as long as it lives. Now we know, mother,” said I, “that those +are poor people, and their gain consists in being quit of the charge as +soon as they can; how can I doubt but that, as it is best for them to +have the child die, they are not over solicitous about life?” + +“This is all vapours and fancy,” says the old woman; “I tell you their +credit depends upon the child’s life, and they are as careful as any +mother of you all.” + +“O mother,” says I, “if I was but sure my little baby would be +carefully looked to, and have justice done it, I should be happy +indeed; but it is impossible I can be satisfied in that point unless I +saw it, and to see it would be ruin and destruction to me, as now my +case stands; so what to do I know not.” + +“A fine story!” says the governess. “You would see the child, and you +would not see the child; you would be concealed and discovered both +together. These are things impossible, my dear; so you must e’en do as +other conscientious mothers have done before you, and be contented with +things as they must be, though they are not as you wish them to be.” + +I understood what she meant by conscientious mothers; she would have +said conscientious whores, but she was not willing to disoblige me, for +really in this case I was not a whore, because legally married, the +force of former marriage excepted. + +However, let me be what I would, I was not come up to that pitch of +hardness common to the profession; I mean, to be unnatural, and +regardless of the safety of my child; and I preserved this honest +affection so long, that I was upon the point of giving up my friend at +the bank, who lay so hard at me to come to him and marry him, that, in +short, there was hardly any room to deny him. + +At last my old governess came to me, with her usual assurance. “Come, +my dear,” says she, “I have found out a way how you shall be at a +certainty that your child shall be used well, and yet the people that +take care of it shall never know you, or who the mother of the child +is.” + +“Oh mother,” says I, “if you can do so, you will engage me to you for +ever.” “Well,” says she, “are you willing to be a some small annual +expense, more than what we usually give to the people we contract +with?” “Ay,” says I, “with all my heart, provided I may be concealed.” +“As to that,” says the governess, “you shall be secure, for the nurse +shall never so much as dare to inquire about you, and you shall once or +twice a year go with me and see your child, and see how ’tis used, and +be satisfied that it is in good hands, nobody knowing who you are.” + +“Why,” said I, “do you think, mother, that when I come to see my child, +I shall be able to conceal my being the mother of it? Do you think that +possible?” + +“Well, well,” says my governess, “if you discover it, the nurse shall +be never the wiser; for she shall be forbid to ask any questions about +you, or to take any notice. If she offers it, she shall lose the money +which you are suppose to give her, and the child shall be taken from +her too.” + +I was very well pleased with this. So the next week a countrywoman was +brought from Hertford, or thereabouts, who was to take the child off +our hands entirely for £10 in money. But if I would allow £5 a year +more of her, she would be obliged to bring the child to my governess’s +house as often as we desired, or we should come down and look at it, +and see how well she used it. + +The woman was very wholesome-looking, a likely woman, a cottager’s +wife, but she had very good clothes and linen, and everything well +about her; and with a heavy heart and many a tear, I let her have my +child. I had been down at Hertford, and looked at her and at her +dwelling, which I liked well enough; and I promised her great things if +she would be kind to the child, so she knew at first word that I was +the child’s mother. But she seemed to be so much out of the way, and to +have no room to inquire after me, that I thought I was safe enough. So, +in short, I consented to let her have the child, and I gave her £10; +that is to say, I gave it to my governess, who gave it the poor woman +before my face, she agreeing never to return the child back to me, or +to claim anything more for its keeping or bringing up; only that I +promised, if she took a great deal of care of it, I would give her +something more as often as I came to see it; so that I was not bound to +pay the £5, only that I promised my governess I would do it. And thus +my great care was over, after a manner, which though it did not at all +satisfy my mind, yet was the most convenient for me, as my affairs then +stood, of any that could be thought of at that time. + +I then began to write to my friend at the bank in a more kindly style, +and particularly about the beginning of July I sent him a letter, that +I proposed to be in town some time in August. He returned me an answer +in the most passionate terms imaginable, and desired me to let him have +timely notice, and he would come and meet me, two day’s journey. This +puzzled me scurvily, and I did not know what answer to make of it. Once +I resolved to take the stage-coach to West Chester, on purpose only to +have the satisfaction of coming back, that he might see me really come +in the same coach; for I had a jealous thought, though I had no ground +for it at all, lest he should think I was not really in the country. +And it was no ill-grounded thought as you shall hear presently. + +I endeavoured to reason myself out of it, but it was in vain; the +impression lay so strong on my mind, that it was not to be resisted. At +last it came as an addition to my new design of going into the country, +that it would be an excellent blind to my old governess, and would +cover entirely all my other affairs, for she did not know in the least +whether my new lover lived in London or in Lancashire; and when I told +her my resolution, she was fully persuaded it was in Lancashire. + +Having taken my measure for this journey I let her know it, and sent +the maid that tended me, from the beginning, to take a place for me in +the coach. She would have had me let the maid have waited on me down to +the last stage, and come up again in the waggon, but I convinced her it +would not be convenient. When I went away, she told me she would enter +into no measures for correspondence, for she saw evidently that my +affection to my child would cause me to write to her, and to visit her +too when I came to town again. I assured her it would, and so took my +leave, well satisfied to have been freed from such a house, however +good my accommodations there had been, as I have related above. + +I took the place in the coach not to its full extent, but to a place +called Stone, in Cheshire, I think it is, where I not only had no +manner of business, but not so much as the least acquaintance with any +person in the town or near it. But I knew that with money in the pocket +one is at home anywhere; so I lodged there two or three days, till, +watching my opportunity, I found room in another stage-coach, and took +passage back again for London, sending a letter to my gentleman that I +should be such a certain day at Stony-Stratford, where the coachman +told me he was to lodge. + +It happened to be a chance coach that I had taken up, which, having +been hired on purpose to carry some gentlemen to West Chester who were +going for Ireland, was now returning, and did not tie itself to exact +times or places as the stages did; so that, having been obliged to lie +still on Sunday, he had time to get himself ready to come out, which +otherwise he could not have done. + +However, his warning was so short, that he could not reach to +Stony-Stratford time enough to be with me at night, but he met me at a +place called Brickhill the next morning, as we were just coming in to +tow. + +I confess I was very glad to see him, for I had thought myself a little +disappointed over-night, seeing I had gone so far to contrive my coming +on purpose. He pleased me doubly too by the figure he came in, for he +brought a very handsome (gentleman’s) coach and four horses, with a +servant to attend him. + +He took me out of the stage-coach immediately, which stopped at an inn +in Brickhill; and putting into the same inn, he set up his own coach, +and bespoke his dinner. I asked him what he meant by that, for I was +for going forward with the journey. He said, No, I had need of a little +rest upon the road, and that was a very good sort of a house, though it +was but a little town; so we would go no farther that night, whatever +came of it. + +I did not press him much, for since he had come so to meet me, and put +himself to so much expense, it was but reasonable I should oblige him a +little too; so I was easy as to that point. + +After dinner we walked to see the town, to see the church, and to view +the fields, and the country, as is usual for strangers to do; and our +landlord was our guide in going to see the church. I observed my +gentleman inquired pretty much about the parson, and I took the hint +immediately that he certainly would propose to be married; and though +it was a sudden thought, it followed presently, that, in short, I would +not refuse him; for, to be plain, with my circumstances I was in no +condition now to say No; I had no reason now to run any more such +hazards. + +But while these thoughts ran round in my head, which was the work but +of a few moments, I observed my landlord took him aside and whispered +to him, though not very softly neither, for so much I overheard: “Sir, +if you shall have occasion——” the rest I could not hear, but it seems +it was to this purpose: “Sir, if you shall have occasion for a +minister, I have a friend a little way off that will serve you, and be +as private as you please.” My gentleman answered loud enough for me to +hear, “Very well, I believe I shall.” + +I was no sooner come back to the inn but he fell upon me with +irresistible words, that since he had had the good fortune to meet me, +and everything concurred, it would be hastening his felicity if I would +put an end to the matter just there. “What do you mean?” says I, +colouring a little. “What, in an inn, and upon the road! Bless us all,” +said I, as if I had been surprised, “how can you talk so?” “Oh, I can +talk so very well,” says he, “I came a-purpose to talk so, and I’ll +show you that I did”; and with that he pulls out a great bundle of +papers. “You fright me,” said I; “what are all these?” “Don’t be +frighted, my dear,” said he, and kissed me. This was the first time +that he had been so free to call me “my dear”; then he repeated it, +“Don’t be frighted; you shall see what it is all”; then he laid them +all abroad. There was first the deed or sentence of divorce from his +wife, and the full evidence of her playing the whore; then there were +the certificates of the minister and churchwardens of the parish where +she lived, proving that she was buried, and intimating the manner of +her death; the copy of the coroner’s warrant for a jury to sit upon +her, and the verdict of the jury, who brought it in Non compos mentis. +All this was indeed to the purpose, and to give me satisfaction, +though, by the way, I was not so scrupulous, had he known all, but that +I might have taken him without it. However, I looked them all over as +well as I could, and told him that this was all very clear indeed, but +that he need not have given himself the trouble to have brought them +out with him, for it was time enough. Well, he said, it might be time +enough for me, but no time but the present time was time enough for +him. + +There were other papers rolled up, and I asked him what they were. +“Why, ay,” says he, “that’s the question I wanted to have you ask me”; +so he unrolls them and takes out a little shagreen case, and gives me +out of it a very fine diamond ring. I could not refuse it, if I had a +mind to do so, for he put it upon my finger; so I made him a curtsy and +accepted it. Then he takes out another ring: “And this,” says he, “is +for another occasion,” so he puts that in his pocket. “Well, but let me +see it, though,” says I, and smiled; “I guess what it is; I think you +are mad.” “I should have been mad if I had done less,” says he, and +still he did not show me, and I had a great mind to see it; so I says, +“Well, but let me see it.” “Hold,” says he, “first look here”; then he +took up the roll again and read it, and behold! it was a licence for us +to be married. “Why,” says I, “are you distracted? Why, you were fully +satisfied that I would comply and yield at first word, or resolved to +take no denial.” “The last is certainly the case,” said he. “But you +may be mistaken,” said I. “No, no,” says he, “how can you think so? I +must not be denied, I can’t be denied”; and with that he fell to +kissing me so violently, I could not get rid of him. + +There was a bed in the room, and we were walking to and again, eager in +the discourse; at last he takes me by surprise in his arms, and threw +me on the bed and himself with me, and holding me fast in his arms, but +without the least offer of any indecency, courted me to consent with +such repeated entreaties and arguments, protesting his affection, and +vowing he would not let me go till I had promised him, that at last I +said, “Why, you resolve not to be denied, indeed, I can’t be denied.” +“Well, well,” said I, and giving him a slight kiss, “then you shan’t be +denied,” said I; “let me get up.” + +He was so transported with my consent, and the kind manner of it, that +I began to think once he took it for a marriage, and would not stay for +the form; but I wronged him, for he gave over kissing me, and then +giving me two or three kisses again, thanked me for my kind yielding to +him; and was so overcome with the satisfaction and joy of it, that I +saw tears stand in his eyes. + +I turned from him, for it filled my eyes with tears too, and I asked +him leave to retire a little to my chamber. If ever I had a grain of +true repentance for a vicious and abominable life for twenty-four years +past, it was then. Oh, what a felicity is it to mankind, said I to +myself, that they cannot see into the hearts of one another! How happy +had it been for me if I had been wife to a man of so much honesty, and +so much affection from the beginning! + +Then it occurred to me, “What an abominable creature am I! and how is +this innocent gentleman going to be abused by me! How little does he +think, that having divorced a whore, he is throwing himself into the +arms of another! that he is going to marry one that has lain with two +brothers, and has had three children by her own brother! one that was +born in Newgate, whose mother was a whore, and is now a transported +thief! one that has lain with thirteen men, and has had a child since +he saw me! Poor gentleman!” said I, “what is he going to do?” After +this reproaching myself was over, it following thus: “Well, if I must +be his wife, if it please God to give me grace, I’ll be a true wife to +him, and love him suitably to the strange excess of his passion for me; +I will make him amends if possible, by what he shall see, for the +cheats and abuses I put upon him, which he does not see.” + +He was impatient for my coming out of my chamber, but finding me long, +he went downstairs and talked with my landlord about the parson. + +My landlord, an officious though well-meaning fellow, had sent away for +the neighbouring clergyman; and when my gentleman began to speak of it +to him, and talk of sending for him, “Sir,” says he to him, “my friend +is in the house”; so without any more words he brought them together. +When he came to the minister, he asked him if he would venture to marry +a couple of strangers that were both willing. The parson said that Mr. +—— had said something to him of it; that he hoped it was no clandestine +business; that he seemed to be a grave gentleman, and he supposed madam +was not a girl, so that the consent of friends should be wanted. “To +put you out of doubt of that,” says my gentleman, “read this paper”; +and out he pulls the license. “I am satisfied,” says the minister; +“where is the lady?” “You shall see her presently,” says my gentleman. + +When he had said thus he comes upstairs, and I was by that time come +out of my room; so he tells me the minister was below, and that he had +talked with him, and that upon showing him the license, he was free to +marry us with all his heart, “but he asks to see you”; so he asked if I +would let him come up. + +“’Tis time enough,” said I, “in the morning, is it not?” “Why,” said +he, “my dear, he seemed to scruple whether it was not some young girl +stolen from her parents, and I assured him we were both of age to +command our own consent; and that made him ask to see you.” “Well,” +said I, “do as you please”; so up they brings the parson, and a merry, +good sort of gentleman he was. He had been told, it seems, that we had +met there by accident, that I came in the Chester coach, and my +gentleman in his own coach to meet me; that we were to have met last +night at Stony-Stratford, but that he could not reach so far. “Well, +sir,” says the parson, “every ill turn has some good in it. The +disappointment, sir,” says he to my gentleman, “was yours, and the good +turn is mine, for if you had met at Stony-Stratford I had not had the +honour to marry you. Landlord, have you a Common Prayer Book?” + +I started as if I had been frightened. “Lord, sir,” says I, “what do +you mean? What, to marry in an inn, and at night too?” “Madam,” says +the minister, “if you will have it be in the church, you shall; but I +assure you your marriage will be as firm here as in the church; we are +not tied by the canons to marry nowhere but in the church; and if you +will have it in the church, it will be a public as a county fair; and +as for the time of day, it does not at all weigh in this case; our +princes are married in their chambers, and at eight or ten o’clock at +night.” + +I was a great while before I could be persuaded, and pretended not to +be willing at all to be married but in the church. But it was all +grimace; so I seemed at last to be prevailed on, and my landlord and +his wife and daughter were called up. My landlord was father and clerk +and all together, and we were married, and very merry we were; though I +confess the self-reproaches which I had upon me before lay close to me, +and extorted every now and then a deep sigh from me, which my +bridegroom took notice of, and endeavoured to encourage me, thinking, +poor man, that I had some little hesitations at the step I had taken so +hastily. + +We enjoyed ourselves that evening completely, and yet all was kept so +private in the inn that not a servant in the house knew of it, for my +landlady and her daughter waited on me, and would not let any of the +maids come upstairs, except while we were at supper. My landlady’s +daughter I called my bridesmaid; and sending for a shopkeeper the next +morning, I gave the young woman a good suit of knots, as good as the +town would afford, and finding it was a lace-making town, I gave her +mother a piece of bone-lace for a head. + +One reason that my landlord was so close was, that he was unwilling the +minister of the parish should hear of it; but for all that somebody +heard of it, so at that we had the bells set a-ringing the next morning +early, and the music, such as the town would afford, under our window; +but my landlord brazened it out, that we were married before we came +thither, only that, being his former guests, we would have our +wedding-supper at his house. + +We could not find in our hearts to stir the next day; for, in short, +having been disturbed by the bells in the morning, and having perhaps +not slept overmuch before, we were so sleepy afterwards that we lay in +bed till almost twelve o’clock. + +I begged my landlady that we might not have any more music in the town, +nor ringing of bells, and she managed it so well that we were very +quiet; but an odd passage interrupted all my mirth for a good while. +The great room of the house looked into the street, and my new spouse +being belowstairs, I had walked to the end of the room; and it being a +pleasant, warm day, I had opened the window, and was standing at it for +some air, when I saw three gentlemen come by on horseback and go into +an inn just against us. + +It was not to be concealed, nor was it so doubtful as to leave me any +room to question it, but the second of the three was my Lancashire +husband. I was frightened to death; I never was in such a consternation +in my life; I though I should have sunk into the ground; my blood ran +chill in my veins, and I trembled as if I had been in a cold fit of +ague. I say, there was no room to question the truth of it; I knew his +clothes, I knew his horse, and I knew his face. + +The first sensible reflect I made was, that my husband was not by to +see my disorder, and that I was very glad of it. The gentlemen had not +been long in the house but they came to the window of their room, as is +usual; but my window was shut, you may be sure. However, I could not +keep from peeping at them, and there I saw him again, heard him call +out to one of the servants of the house for something he wanted, and +received all the terrifying confirmations of its being the same person +that were possible to be had. + +My next concern was to know, if possible, what was his business there; +but that was impossible. Sometimes my imagination formed an idea of one +frightful thing, sometimes of another; sometimes I thought he had +discovered me, and was come to upbraid me with ingratitude and breach +of honour; and every moment I fancied he was coming up the stairs to +insult me; and innumerable fancies came into my head of what was never +in his head, nor ever could be, unless the devil had revealed it to +him. + +I remained in this fright nearly two hours, and scarce ever kept my eye +from the window or door of the inn where they were. At last, hearing a +great clatter in the passage of their inn, I ran to the window, and, to +my great satisfaction, saw them all three go out again and travel on +westward. Had they gone towards London, I should have been still in a +fright, lest I should meet him on the road again, and that he should +know me; but he went the contrary way, and so I was eased of that +disorder. + +We resolved to be going the next day, but about six o’clock at night we +were alarmed with a great uproar in the street, and people riding as if +they had been out of their wits; and what was it but a hue-and-cry +after three highwaymen that had robbed two coaches and some other +travellers near Dunstable Hill, and notice had, it seems, been given +that they had been seen at Brickhill at such a house, meaning the house +where those gentlemen had been. + +The house was immediately beset and searched, but there were witnesses +enough that the gentlemen had been gone over three hours. The crowd +having gathered about, we had the news presently; and I was heartily +concerned now another way. I presently told the people of the house, +that I durst to say those were not the persons, for that I knew one of +the gentlemen to be a very honest person, and of a good estate in +Lancashire. + +The constable who came with the hue-and-cry was immediately informed of +this, and came over to me to be satisfied from my own mouth, and I +assured him that I saw the three gentlemen as I was at the window; that +I saw them afterwards at the windows of the room they dined in; that I +saw them afterwards take horse, and I could assure him I knew one of +them to be such a man, that he was a gentleman of a very good estate, +and an undoubted character in Lancashire, from whence I was just now +upon my journey. + +The assurance with which I delivered this gave the mob gentry a check, +and gave the constable such satisfaction, that he immediately sounded a +retreat, told his people these were not the men, but that he had an +account they were very honest gentlemen; and so they went all back +again. What the truth of the matter was I knew not, but certain it was +that the coaches were robbed at Dunstable Hill, and £560 in money +taken; besides, some of the lace merchants that always travel that way +had been visited too. As to the three gentlemen, that remains to be +explained hereafter. + +Well, this alarm stopped us another day, though my spouse was for +travelling, and told me that it was always safest travelling after a +robbery, for that the thieves were sure to be gone far enough off when +they had alarmed the country; but I was afraid and uneasy, and indeed +principally lest my old acquaintance should be upon the road still, and +should chance to see me. + +I never lived four pleasanter days together in my life. I was a mere +bride all this while, and my new spouse strove to make me entirely easy +in everything. Oh could this state of life have continued, how had all +my past troubles been forgot, and my future sorrows avoided! But I had +a past life of a most wretched kind to account for, some of it in this +world as well as in another. + +We came away the fifth day; and my landlord, because he saw me uneasy, +mounted himself, his son, and three honest country fellows with good +firearms, and, without telling us of it, followed the coach, and would +see us safe into Dunstable. We could do no less than treat them very +handsomely at Dunstable, which cost my spouse about ten or twelve +shillings, and something he gave the men for their time too, but my +landlord would take nothing for himself. + +This was the most happy contrivance for me that could have fallen out; +for had I come to London unmarried, I must either have come to him for +the first night’s entertainment, or have discovered to him that I had +not one acquaintance in the whole city of London that could receive a +poor bride for the first night’s lodging with her spouse. But now, +being an old married woman, I made no scruple of going directly home +with him, and there I took possession at once of a house well +furnished, and a husband in very good circumstances, so that I had a +prospect of a very happy life, if I knew how to manage it; and I had +leisure to consider of the real value of the life I was likely to live. +How different it was to be from the loose ungoverned part I had acted +before, and how much happier a life of virtue and sobriety is, than +that which we call a life of pleasure. + +Oh had this particular scene of life lasted, or had I learned from that +time I enjoyed it, to have tasted the true sweetness of it, and had I +not fallen into that poverty which is the sure bane of virtue, how +happy had I been, not only here, but perhaps for ever! for while I +lived thus, I was really a penitent for all my life past. I looked back +on it with abhorrence, and might truly be said to hate myself for it. I +often reflected how my lover at the Bath, struck at the hand of God, +repented and abandoned me, and refused to see me any more, though he +loved me to an extreme; but I, prompted by that worst of devils, +poverty, returned to the vile practice, and made the advantage of what +they call a handsome face to be the relief to my necessities, and +beauty be a pimp to vice. + +Now I seemed landed in a safe harbour, after the stormy voyage of life +past was at an end, and I began to be thankful for my deliverance. I +sat many an hour by myself, and wept over the remembrance of past +follies, and the dreadful extravagances of a wicked life, and sometimes +I flattered myself that I had sincerely repented. + +But there are temptations which it is not in the power of human nature +to resist, and few know what would be their case if driven to the same +exigencies. As covetousness is the root of all evil, so poverty is, I +believe, the worst of all snares. But I waive that discourse till I +come to an experiment. + +I lived with this husband with the utmost tranquillity; he was a quiet, +sensible, sober man; virtuous, modest, sincere, and in his business +diligent and just. His business was in a narrow compass, and his income +sufficient to a plentiful way of living in the ordinary way. I do not +say to keep an equipage, and make a figure, as the world calls it, nor +did I expect it, or desire it; for as I abhorred the levity and +extravagance of my former life, so I chose now to live retired, frugal, +and within ourselves. I kept no company, made no visits; minded my +family, and obliged my husband; and this kind of life became a pleasure +to me. + +We lived in an uninterrupted course of ease and content for five years, +when a sudden blow from an almost invisible hand blasted all my +happiness, and turned me out into the world in a condition the reverse +of all that had been before it. + +My husband having trusted one of his fellow-clerks with a sum of money, +too much for our fortunes to bear the loss of, the clerk failed, and +the loss fell very heavy on my husband, yet it was not so great neither +but that, if he had had spirit and courage to have looked his +misfortunes in the face, his credit was so good that, as I told him, he +would easily recover it; for to sink under trouble is to double the +weight, and he that will die in it, shall die in it. + +It was in vain to speak comfortably to him; the wound had sunk too +deep; it was a stab that touched the vitals; he grew melancholy and +disconsolate, and from thence lethargic, and died. I foresaw the blow, +and was extremely oppressed in my mind, for I saw evidently that if he +died I was undone. + +I had had two children by him and no more, for, to tell the truth, it +began to be time for me to leave bearing children, for I was now +eight-and-forty, and I suppose if he had lived I should have had no +more. + +I was now left in a dismal and disconsolate case indeed, and in several +things worse than ever. First, it was past the flourishing time with me +when I might expect to be courted for a mistress; that agreeable part +had declined some time, and the ruins only appeared of what had been; +and that which was worse than all this, that I was the most dejected, +disconsolate creature alive. I that had encouraged my husband, and +endeavoured to support his spirits under his trouble, could not support +my own; I wanted that spirit in trouble which I told him was so +necessary to him for bearing the burthen. + +But my case was indeed deplorable, for I was left perfectly friendless +and helpless, and the loss my husband had sustained had reduced his +circumstances so low, that though indeed I was not in debt, yet I could +easily foresee that what was left would not support me long; that while +it wasted daily for subsistence, I had not way to increase it one +shilling, so that it would be soon all spent, and then I saw nothing +before me but the utmost distress; and this represented itself so +lively to my thoughts, that it seemed as if it was come, before it was +really very near; also my very apprehensions doubled the misery, for I +fancied every sixpence that I paid for a loaf of bread was the last +that I had in the world, and that to-morrow I was to fast, and be +starved to death. + +In this distress I had no assistant, no friend to comfort or advise me; +I sat and cried and tormented myself night and day, wringing my hands, +and sometimes raving like a distracted woman; and indeed I have often +wondered it had not affected my reason, for I had the vapours to such a +degree, that my understanding was sometimes quite lost in fancies and +imaginations. + +I lived two years in this dismal condition, wasting that little I had, +weeping continually over my dismal circumstances, and, as it were, only +bleeding to death, without the least hope or prospect of help from God +or man; and now I had cried too long, and so often, that tears were, as +I might say, exhausted, and I began to be desperate, for I grew poor +apace. + +For a little relief I had put off my house and took lodgings; and as I +was reducing my living, so I sold off most of my goods, which put a +little money in my pocket, and I lived near a year upon that, spending +very sparingly, and eking things out to the utmost; but still when I +looked before me, my very heart would sink within me at the inevitable +approach of misery and want. Oh let none read this part without +seriously reflecting on the circumstances of a desolate state, and how +they would grapple with mere want of friends and want of bread; it will +certainly make them think not of sparing what they have only, but of +looking up to heaven for support, and of the wise man’s prayer, “Give +me not poverty, lest I steal.” + +Let them remember that a time of distress is a time of dreadful +temptation, and all the strength to resist is taken away; poverty +presses, the soul is made desperate by distress, and what can be done? +It was one evening, when being brought, as I may say, to the last gasp, +I think I may truly say I was distracted and raving, when prompted by I +know not what spirit, and, as it were, doing I did not know what or +why, I dressed me (for I had still pretty good clothes) and went out. I +am very sure I had no manner of design in my head when I went out; I +neither knew nor considered where to go, or on what business; but as +the devil carried me out and laid his bait for me, so he brought me, to +be sure, to the place, for I knew not whither I was going or what I +did. + +Wandering thus about, I knew not whither, I passed by an apothecary’s +shop in Leadenhall Street, when I saw lie on a stool just before the +counter a little bundle wrapped in a white cloth; beyond it stood a +maid-servant with her back to it, looking towards the top of the shop, +where the apothecary’s apprentice, as I suppose, was standing upon the +counter, with his back also to the door, and a candle in his hand, +looking and reaching up to the upper shelf for something he wanted, so +that both were engaged mighty earnestly, and nobody else in the shop. + +This was the bait; and the devil, who I said laid the snare, as readily +prompted me as if he had spoke, for I remember, and shall never forget +it, ’twas like a voice spoken to me over my shoulder, “Take the bundle; +be quick; do it this moment.” It was no sooner said but I stepped into +the shop, and with my back to the wench, as if I had stood up for a +cart that was going by, I put my hand behind me and took the bundle, +and went off with it, the maid or the fellow not perceiving me, or any +one else. + +It is impossible to express the horror of my soul all the while I did +it. When I went away I had no heart to run, or scarce to mend my pace. +I crossed the street indeed, and went down the first turning I came to, +and I think it was a street that went through into Fenchurch Street. +From thence I crossed and turned through so many ways and turnings, +that I could never tell which way it was, not where I went; for I felt +not the ground I stepped on, and the farther I was out of danger, the +faster I went, till, tired and out of breath, I was forced to sit down +on a little bench at a door, and then I began to recover, and found I +was got into Thames Street, near Billingsgate. I rested me a little and +went on; my blood was all in a fire; my heart beat as if I was in a +sudden fright. In short, I was under such a surprise that I still knew +not wither I was going, or what to do. + +After I had tired myself thus with walking a long way about, and so +eagerly, I began to consider and make home to my lodging, where I came +about nine o’clock at night. + +When the bundle was made up for, or on what occasion laid where I found +it, I knew not, but when I came to open it I found there was a suit of +childbed-linen in it, very good and almost new, the lace very fine; +there was a silver porringer of a pint, a small silver mug and six +spoons, with some other linen, a good smock, and three silk +handkerchiefs, and in the mug, wrapped up in a paper, 18s. 6d. in +money. + +All the while I was opening these things I was under such dreadful +impressions of fear, and I such terror of mind, though I was perfectly +safe, that I cannot express the manner of it. I sat me down, and cried +most vehemently. “Lord,” said I, “what am I now? a thief! Why, I shall +be taken next time, and be carried to Newgate and be tried for my +life!” And with that I cried again a long time, and I am sure, as poor +as I was, if I had durst for fear, I would certainly have carried the +things back again; but that went off after a while. Well, I went to bed +for that night, but slept little; the horror of the fact was upon my +mind, and I knew not what I said or did all night, and all the next +day. Then I was impatient to hear some news of the loss; and would fain +know how it was, whether they were a poor body’s goods, or a rich. +“Perhaps,” said I, “it may be some poor widow like me, that had packed +up these goods to go and sell them for a little bread for herself and a +poor child, and are now starving and breaking their hearts for want of +that little they would have fetched.” And this thought tormented me +worse than all the rest, for three or four days’ time. + +But my own distresses silenced all these reflections, and the prospect +of my own starving, which grew every day more frightful to me, hardened +my heart by degrees. It was then particularly heavy upon my mind, that +I had been reformed, and had, as I hoped, repented of all my past +wickedness; that I had lived a sober, grave, retired life for several +years, but now I should be driven by the dreadful necessity of my +circumstances to the gates of destruction, soul and body; and two or +three times I fell upon my knees, praying to God, as well as I could, +for deliverance; but I cannot but say, my prayers had no hope in them. +I knew not what to do; it was all fear without, and dark within; and I +reflected on my past life as not sincerely repented of, that Heaven was +now beginning to punish me on this side of the grave, and would make me +as miserable as I had been wicked. + +Had I gone on here I had perhaps been a true penitent; but I had an +evil counsellor within, and he was continually prompting me to relieve +myself by the worst means; so one evening he tempted me again, by the +same wicked impulse that had said “Take that bundle,” to go out again +and seek for what might happen. + +I went out now by daylight, and wandered about I knew not whither, and +in search of I knew not what, when the devil put a snare in my way of a +dreadful nature indeed, and such a one as I have never had before or +since. Going through Aldersgate Street, there was a pretty little child +who had been at a dancing-school, and was going home, all alone; and my +prompter, like a true devil, set me upon this innocent creature. I +talked to it, and it prattled to me again, and I took it by the hand +and led it along till I came to a paved alley that goes into +Bartholomew Close, and I led it in there. The child said that was not +its way home. I said, “Yes, my dear, it is; I’ll show you the way +home.” The child had a little necklace on of gold beads, and I had my +eye upon that, and in the dark of the alley I stooped, pretending to +mend the child’s clog that was loose, and took off her necklace, and +the child never felt it, and so led the child on again. Here, I say, +the devil put me upon killing the child in the dark alley, that it +might not cry, but the very thought frighted me so that I was ready to +drop down; but I turned the child about and bade it go back again, for +that was not its way home. The child said, so she would, and I went +through into Bartholomew Close, and then turned round to another +passage that goes into St. John Street; then, crossing into Smithfield, +went down Chick Lane and into Field Lane to Holborn Bridge, when, +mixing with the crowd of people usually passing there, it was not +possible to have been found out; and thus I enterprised my second sally +into the world. + +The thoughts of this booty put out all the thoughts of the first, and +the reflections I had made wore quickly off; poverty, as I have said, +hardened my heart, and my own necessities made me regardless of +anything. The last affair left no great concern upon me, for as I did +the poor child no harm, I only said to myself, I had given the parents +a just reproof for their negligence in leaving the poor little lamb to +come home by itself, and it would teach them to take more care of it +another time. + +This string of beads was worth about twelve or fourteen pounds. I +suppose it might have been formerly the mother’s, for it was too big +for the child’s wear, but that perhaps the vanity of the mother, to +have her child look fine at the dancing-school, had made her let the +child wear it; and no doubt the child had a maid sent to take care of +it, but she, careless jade, was taken up perhaps with some fellow that +had met her by the way, and so the poor baby wandered till it fell into +my hands. + +However, I did the child no harm; I did not so much as fright it, for I +had a great many tender thoughts about me yet, and did nothing but +what, as I may say, mere necessity drove me to. + +I had a great many adventures after this, but I was young in the +business, and did not know how to manage, otherwise than as the devil +put things into my head; and indeed he was seldom backward to me. One +adventure I had which was very lucky to me. I was going through Lombard +Street in the dusk of the evening, just by the end of Three King court, +when on a sudden comes a fellow running by me as swift as lightning, +and throws a bundle that was in his hand, just behind me, as I stood up +against the corner of the house at the turning into the alley. Just as +he threw it in he said, “God bless you, mistress, let it lie there a +little,” and away he runs swift as the wind. After him comes two more, +and immediately a young fellow without his hat, crying “Stop thief!” +and after him two or three more. They pursued the two last fellows so +close, that they were forced to drop what they had got, and one of them +was taken into the bargain, and other got off free. + +I stood stock-still all this while, till they came back, dragging the +poor fellow they had taken, and lugging the things they had found, +extremely well satisfied that they had recovered the booty and taken +the thief; and thus they passed by me, for I looked only like one who +stood up while the crowd was gone. + +Once or twice I asked what was the matter, but the people neglected +answering me, and I was not very importunate; but after the crowd was +wholly past, I took my opportunity to turn about and take up what was +behind me and walk away. This, indeed, I did with less disturbance than +I had done formerly, for these things I did not steal, but they were +stolen to my hand. I got safe to my lodgings with this cargo, which was +a piece of fine black lustring silk, and a piece of velvet; the latter +was but part of a piece of about eleven yards; the former was a whole +piece of near fifty yards. It seems it was a mercer’s shop that they +had rifled. I say rifled, because the goods were so considerable that +they had lost; for the goods that they recovered were pretty many, and +I believe came to about six or seven several pieces of silk. How they +came to get so many I could not tell; but as I had only robbed the +thief, I made no scruple at taking these goods, and being very glad of +them too. + +I had pretty good luck thus far, and I made several adventures more, +though with but small purchase, yet with good success, but I went in +daily dread that some mischief would befall me, and that I should +certainly come to be hanged at last. The impression this made on me was +too strong to be slighted, and it kept me from making attempts that, +for ought I knew, might have been very safely performed; but one thing +I cannot omit, which was a bait to me many a day. I walked frequently +out into the villages round the town, to see if nothing would fall in +my way there; and going by a house near Stepney, I saw on the +window-board two rings, one a small diamond ring, and the other a gold +ring, to be sure laid there by some thoughtless lady, that had more +money than forecast, perhaps only till she washed her hands. + +I walked several times by the window to observe if I could see whether +there was anybody in the room or no, and I could see nobody, but still +I was not sure. It came presently into my thoughts to rap at the glass, +as if I wanted to speak with somebody, and if anybody was there they +would be sure to come to the window, and then I would tell them to +remove those rings, for that I had seen two suspicious fellows take +notice of them. This was a ready thought. I rapped once or twice and +nobody came, when, seeing the coast clear, I thrust hard against the +square of the glass, and broke it with very little noise, and took out +the two rings, and walked away with them very safe. The diamond ring +was worth about £3, and the other about 9s. + +I was now at a loss for a market for my goods, and especially for my +two pieces of silk. I was very loth to dispose of them for a trifle, as +the poor unhappy thieves in general do, who, after they have ventured +their lives for perhaps a thing of value, are fain to sell it for a +song when they have done; but I was resolved I would not do thus, +whatever shift I made, unless I was driven to the last extremity. +However, I did not well know what course to take. At last I resolved to +go to my old governess, and acquaint myself with her again. I had +punctually supplied the £5 a year to her for my little boy as long as I +was able, but at last was obliged to put a stop to it. However, I had +written a letter to her, wherein I had told her that my circumstances +were reduced very low; that I had lost my husband, and that I was not +able to do it any longer, and so begged that the poor child might not +suffer too much for its mother’s misfortunes. + +I now made her a visit, and I found that she drove something of the old +trade still, but that she was not in such flourishing circumstances as +before; for she had been sued by a certain gentleman who had had his +daughter stolen from him, and who, it seems, she had helped to convey +away; and it was very narrowly that she escaped the gallows. The +expense also had ravaged her, and she was become very poor; her house +was but meanly furnished, and she was not in such repute for her +practice as before; however, she stood upon her legs, as they say, and +as she was a stirring, bustling woman, and had some stock left, she was +turned pawnbroker, and lived pretty well. + +She received me very civilly, and with her usual obliging manner told +me she would not have the less respect for me for my being reduced; +that she had taken care my boy was very well looked after, though I +could not pay for him, and that the woman that had him was easy, so +that I needed not to trouble myself about him till I might be better +able to do it effectually. + +I told her that I had not much money left, but that I had some things +that were money’s worth, if she could tell me how I might turn them +into money. She asked me what it was I had. I pulled out the string of +gold beads, and told her it was one of my husband’s presents to me; +then I showed her the two parcels of silk, which I told her I had from +Ireland, and brought up to town with me; and the little diamond ring. +As to the small parcel of plate and spoons, I had found means to +dispose of them myself before; and as for the childbed-linen I had, she +offered me to take it herself, believing it to have been my own. She +told me that she was turned pawnbroker, and that she would sell those +things for me as pawn to her; and so she sent presently for proper +agents that bought them, being in her hands, without any scruple, and +gave good prices too. + +I now began to think this necessary woman might help me a little in my +low condition to some business, for I would gladly have turned my hand +to any honest employment if I could have got it. But here she was +deficient; honest business did not come within her reach. If I had been +younger, perhaps she might have helped me to a spark, but my thoughts +were off that kind of livelihood, as being quite out of the way after +fifty, which was my case, and so I told her. + +She invited me at last to come, and be at her house till I could find +something to do, and it should cost me very little, and this I gladly +accepted of. And now living a little easier, I entered into some +measures to have my little son by my last husband taken off; and this +she made easy too, reserving a payment only of £5 a year, if I could +pay it. This was such a help to me, that for a good while I left off +the wicked trade that I had so newly taken up; and gladly I would have +got my bread by the help of my needle if I could have got work, but +that was very hard to do for one that had no manner of acquaintance in +the world. + +However, at last I got some quilting work for ladies’ beds, petticoats, +and the like; and this I liked very well, and worked very hard, and +with this I began to live; but the diligent devil, who resolved I +should continue in his service, continually prompted me to go out and +take a walk, that is to say, to see if anything would offer in the old +way. + +One evening I blindly obeyed his summons, and fetched a long circuit +through the streets, but met with no purchase, and came home very weary +and empty; but not content with that, I went out the next evening too, +when going by an alehouse I saw the door of a little room open, next +the very street, and on the table a silver tankard, things much in use +in public-houses at that time. It seems some company had been drinking +there, and the careless boys had forgot to take it away. + +I went into the box frankly, and setting the silver tankard on the +corner of the bench, I sat down before it, and knocked with my foot; a +boy came presently, and I bade him fetch me a pint of warm ale, for it +was cold weather; the boy ran, and I heard him go down the cellar to +draw the ale. While the boy was gone, another boy came into the room, +and cried, “D’ ye call?” I spoke with a melancholy air, and said, “No, +child; the boy is gone for a pint of ale for me.” + +While I sat here, I heard the woman in the bar say, “Are they all gone +in the five?” which was the box I sat in, and the boy said, “Yes.” “Who +fetched the tankard away?” says the woman. “I did,” says another boy; +“that’s it,” pointing, it seems, to another tankard, which he had +fetched from another box by mistake; or else it must be, that the rogue +forgot that he had not brought it in, which certainly he had not. + +I heard all this, much to my satisfaction, for I found plainly that the +tankard was not missed, and yet they concluded it was fetched away; so +I drank my ale, called to pay, and as I went away I said, “Take care of +your plate, child,” meaning a silver pint mug, which he brought me +drink in. The boy said, “Yes, madam, very welcome,” and away I came. + +I came home to my governess, and now I thought it was a time to try +her, that if I might be put to the necessity of being exposed, she +might offer me some assistance. When I had been at home some time, and +had an opportunity of talking to her, I told her I had a secret of the +greatest consequence in the world to commit to her, if she had respect +enough for me to keep it a secret. She told me she had kept one of my +secrets faithfully; why should I doubt her keeping another? I told her +the strangest thing in the world had befallen me, and that it had made +a thief of me, even without any design, and so told her the whole story +of the tankard. “And have you brought it away with you, my dear?” says +she. “To be sure I have,” says I, and showed it her. “But what shall I +do now,” says I; “must not carry it again?” + +“Carry it again!” says she. “Ay, if you are minded to be sent to +Newgate for stealing it.” “Why,” says I, “they can’t be so base to stop +me, when I carry it to them again?” “You don’t know those sort of +people, child,” says she; “they’ll not only carry you to Newgate, but +hang you too, without any regard to the honesty of returning it; or +bring in an account of all the other tankards they have lost, for you +to pay for.” “What must I do, then?” says I. “Nay,” says she, “as you +have played the cunning part and stole it, you must e’en keep it; +there’s no going back now. Besides, child,” says she, “don’t you want +it more than they do? I wish you could light of such a bargain once a +week.” + +This gave me a new notion of my governess, and that since she was +turned pawnbroker, she had a sort of people about her that were none of +the honest ones that I had met with there before. + +I had not been long there but I discovered it more plainly than before, +for every now and then I saw hilts of swords, spoons, forks, tankards, +and all such kind of ware brought in, not to be pawned, but to be sold +downright; and she bought everything that came without asking any +questions, but had very good bargains, as I found by her discourse. + +I found also that in following this trade she always melted down the +plate she bought, that it might not be challenged; and she came to me +and told me one morning that she was going to melt, and if I would, she +would put my tankard in, that it might not be seen by anybody. I told +her, with all my heart; so she weighed it, and allowed me the full +value in silver again; but I found she did not do the same to the rest +of her customers. + +Some time after this, as I was at work, and very melancholy, she begins +to ask me what the matter was, as she was used to do. I told her my +heart was heavy; I had little work, and nothing to live on, and knew +not what course to take. She laughed, and told me I must go out again +and try my fortune; it might be that I might meet with another piece of +plate. “O mother!” says I, “that is a trade I have no skill in, and if +I should be taken I am undone at once.” Says she, “I could help you to +a schoolmistress that shall make you as dexterous as herself.” I +trembled at that proposal, for hitherto I had had no confederates, nor +any acquaintance among that tribe. But she conquered all my modesty, +and all my fears; and in a little time, by the help of this +confederate, I grew as impudent a thief, and as dexterous as ever Moll +Cutpurse was, though, if fame does not belie her, not half so handsome. + +The comrade she helped me to dealt in three sorts of craft, viz. +shoplifting, stealing of shop-books and pocket-books, and taking off +gold watches from the ladies’ sides; and this last she did so +dexterously that no woman ever arrived to the performance of that art +so as to do it like her. I liked the first and the last of these things +very well, and I attended her some time in the practice, just as a +deputy attends a midwife, without any pay. + +At length she put me to practice. She had shown me her art, and I had +several times unhooked a watch from her own side with great dexterity. +At last she showed me a prize, and this was a young lady big with +child, who had a charming watch. The thing was to be done as she came +out of church. She goes on one side of the lady, and pretends, just as +she came to the steps, to fall, and fell against the lady with so much +violence as put her into a great fright, and both cried out terribly. +In the very moment that she jostled the lady, I had hold of the watch, +and holding it the right way, the start she gave drew the hook out, and +she never felt it. I made off immediately, and left my schoolmistress +to come out of her pretended fright gradually, and the lady too; and +presently the watch was missed. “Ay,” says my comrade, “then it was +those rogues that thrust me down, I warrant ye; I wonder the +gentlewoman did not miss her watch before, then we might have taken +them.” + +She humoured the thing so well that nobody suspected her, and I was got +home a full hour before her. This was my first adventure in company. +The watch was indeed a very fine one, and had a great many trinkets +about it, and my governess allowed us £20 for it, of which I had half. +And thus I was entered a complete thief, hardened to the pitch above +all the reflections of conscience or modesty, and to a degree which I +must acknowledge I never thought possible in me. + +Thus the devil, who began, by the help of an irresistible poverty, to +push me into this wickedness, brought me on to a height beyond the +common rate, even when my necessities were not so great, or the +prospect of my misery so terrifying; for I had now got into a little +vein of work, and as I was not at a loss to handle my needle, it was +very probable, as acquaintance came in, I might have got my bread +honestly enough. + +I must say, that if such a prospect of work had presented itself at +first, when I began to feel the approach of my miserable +circumstances—I say, had such a prospect of getting my bread by working +presented itself then, I had never fallen into this wicked trade, or +into such a wicked gang as I was now embarked with; but practice had +hardened me, and I grew audacious to the last degree; and the more so +because I had carried it on so long, and had never been taken; for, in +a word, my new partner in wickedness and I went on together so long, +without being ever detected, that we not only grew bold, but we grew +rich, and we had at one time one-and-twenty gold watches in our hands. + +I remember that one day being a little more serious than ordinary, and +finding I had so good a stock beforehand as I had, for I had near £200 +in money for my share, it came strongly into my mind, no doubt from +some kind spirit, if such there be, that at first poverty excited me, +and my distresses drove me to these dreadful shifts; so seeing those +distresses were now relieved, and I could also get something towards a +maintenance by working, and had so good a bank to support me, why +should I now not leave off, as they say, while I was well? that I could +not expect to go always free; and if I was once surprised, and +miscarried, I was undone. + +This was doubtless the happy minute, when, if I had hearkened to the +blessed hint, from whatsoever had it came, I had still a cast for an +easy life. But my fate was otherwise determined; the busy devil that so +industriously drew me in had too fast hold of me to let me go back; but +as poverty brought me into the mire, so avarice kept me in, till there +was no going back. As to the arguments which my reason dictated for +persuading me to lay down, avarice stepped in and said, “Go on, go on; +you have had very good luck; go on till you have gotten four or five +hundred pounds, and then you shall leave off, and then you may live +easy without working at all.” + +Thus I, that was once in the devil’s clutches, was held fast there as +with a charm, and had no power to go without the circle, till I was +engulfed in labyrinths of trouble too great to get out at all. + +However, these thoughts left some impression upon me, and made me act +with some more caution than before, and more than my directors used for +themselves. My comrade, as I called her, but rather she should have +been called my teacher, with another of her scholars, was the first in +the misfortune; for, happening to be upon the hunt for purchase, they +made an attempt upon a linen-draper in Cheapside, but were snapped by a +hawk’s-eyed journeyman, and seized with two pieces of cambric, which +were taken also upon them. + +This was enough to lodge them both in Newgate, where they had the +misfortune to have some of their former sins brought to remembrance. +Two other indictments being brought against them, and the facts being +proved upon them, they were both condemned to die. They both pleaded +their bellies, and were both voted quick with child; though my tutoress +was no more with child than I was. + +I went frequently to see them, and condole with them, expecting that it +would be my turn next; but the place gave me so much horror, reflecting +that it was the place of my unhappy birth, and of my mother’s +misfortunes, and that I could not bear it, so I was forced to leave off +going to see them. + +And oh! could I have but taken warning by their disasters, I had been +happy still, for I was yet free, and had nothing brought against me; +but it could not be, my measure was not yet filled up. + +My comrade, having the brand of an old offender, was executed; the +young offender was spared, having obtained a reprieve, but lay starving +a long while in prison, till at last she got her name into what they +call a circuit pardon, and so came off. + +This terrible example of my comrade frighted me heartily, and for a +good while I made no excursions; but one night, in the neighbourhood of +my governess’s house, they cried “Fire.” My governess looked out, for +we were all up, and cried immediately that such a gentlewoman’s house +was all of a light fire atop, and so indeed it was. Here she gives me a +job. “Now, child,” says she, “there is a rare opportunity, for the fire +being so near that you may go to it before the street is blocked up +with the crowd.” She presently gave me my cue. “Go, child,” says she, +“to the house, and run in and tell the lady, or anybody you see, that +you come to help them, and that you came from such a gentlewoman (that +is, one of her acquaintance farther up the street).” She gave me the +like cue to the next house, naming another name that was also an +acquaintance of the gentlewoman of the house. + +Away I went, and, coming to the house, I found them all in confusion, +you may be sure. I ran in, and finding one of the maids, “Lord! +sweetheart,” says I, “how came this dismal accident? Where is your +mistress? Any how does she do? Is she safe? And where are the children? +I come from Madam —— to help you.” Away runs the maid. “Madam, madam,” +says she, screaming as loud as she could yell, “here is a gentlewoman +come from Madam —— to help us.” The poor woman, half out of her wits, +with a bundle under her arm, an two little children, comes toward me. +“Lord! madam,” says I, “let me carry the poor children to Madam ——,” +she desires you to send them; she’ll take care of the poor lambs;’ and +immediately I takes one of them out of her hand, and she lifts the +other up into my arms. “Ay, do, for God’s sake,” says she, “carry them +to her. Oh! thank her for her kindness.” “Have you anything else to +secure, madam?” says I; “she will take care of it.” “Oh dear! ay,” says +she, “God bless her, and thank her. Take this bundle of plate and carry +it to her too. Oh, she is a good woman. Oh Lord! we are utterly ruined, +utterly undone!” And away she runs from me out of her wits, and the +maids after her; and away comes I with the two children and the bundle. + +I was no sooner got into the street but I saw another woman come to me. +“Oh!” says she, “mistress,” in a piteous tone, “you will let fall the +child. Come, this is a sad time; let me help you”; and immediately lays +hold of my bundle to carry it for me. “No,” says I; “if you will help +me, take the child by the hand, and lead it for me but to the upper end +of the street; I’ll go with you and satisfy you for your pains.” + +She could not avoid going, after what I said; but the creature, in +short, was one of the same business with me, and wanted nothing but the +bundle; however, she went with me to the door, for she could not help +it. When we were come there I whispered her, “Go, child,” said I, “I +understand your trade; you may meet with purchase enough.” + +She understood me and walked off. I thundered at the door with the +children, and as the people were raised before by the noise of the +fire, I was soon let in, and I said, “Is madam awake? Pray tell her +Mrs. —— desires the favour of her to take the two children in; poor +lady, she will be undone, their house is all of a flame,” They took the +children in very civilly, pitied the family in distress, and away came +I with my bundle. One of the maids asked me if I was not to leave the +bundle too. I said, “No, sweetheart, ’tis to go to another place; it +does not belong to them.” + +I was a great way out of the hurry now, and so I went on, clear of +anybody’s inquiry, and brought the bundle of plate, which was very +considerable, straight home, and gave it to my old governess. She told +me she would not look into it, but bade me go out again to look for +more. + +She gave me the like cue to the gentlewoman of the next house to that +which was on fire, and I did my endeavour to go, but by this time the +alarm of fire was so great, and so many engines playing, and the street +so thronged with people, that I could not get near the house whatever I +would do; so I came back again to my governess’s, and taking the bundle +up into my chamber, I began to examine it. It is with horror that I +tell what a treasure I found there; ’tis enough to say, that besides +most of the family plate, which was considerable, I found a gold chain, +an old-fashioned thing, the locket of which was broken, so that I +suppose it had not been used some years, but the gold was not the worse +for that; also a little box of burying-rings, the lady’s wedding-ring, +and some broken bits of old lockets of gold, a gold watch, and a purse +with about £24 value in old pieces of gold coin, and several other +things of value. + +This was the greatest and the worst prize that ever I was concerned in; +for indeed, though, as I have said above, I was hardened now beyond the +power of all reflection in other cases, yet it really touched me to the +very soul when I looked into this treasure, to think of the poor +disconsolate gentlewoman who had lost so much by the fire besides; and +who would think, to be sure, that she had saved her plate and best +things; how she would be surprised and afflicted when she should find +that she had been deceived, and should find that the person that took +her children and her goods, had not come, as was pretended, from the +gentlewoman in the next street, but that the children had been put upon +her without her own knowledge. + +I say, I confess the inhumanity of this action moved me very much, and +made me relent exceedingly, and tears stood in my eyes upon that +subject; but with all my sense of its being cruel and inhuman, I could +never find in my heart to make any restitution. The reflection wore +off, and I began quickly to forget the circumstances that attended the +taking them. + +Nor was this all; for though by this job I was become considerably +richer than before, yet the resolution I had formerly taken, of leaving +off this horrid trade when I had gotten a little more, did not return, +but I must still get farther, and more; and the avarice joined so with +the success, that I had no more thought of coming to a timely +alteration of life, though without it I could expect no safety, no +tranquillity in the possession of what I had so wickedly gained; but a +little more, and a little more, was the case still. + +At length, yielding to the importunities of my crime, I cast off all +remorse and repentance, and all the reflections on that head turned to +no more than this, that I might perhaps come to have one booty more +that might complete my desires; but though I certainly had that one +booty, yet every hit looked towards another, and was so encouraging to +me to go on with the trade, that I had no gust to the thought of laying +it down. + +In this condition, hardened by success, and resolving to go on, I fell +into the snare in which I was appointed to meet with my last reward for +this kind of life. But even this was not yet, for I met with several +successful adventures more in this way of being undone. + +I remained still with my governess, who was for a while really +concerned for the misfortune of my comrade that had been hanged, and +who, it seems, knew enough of my governess to have sent her the same +way, and which made her very uneasy; indeed, she was in a very great +fright. + +It is true that when she was gone, and had not opened mouth to tell +what she knew, my governess was easy as to that point, and perhaps glad +she was hanged, for it was in her power to have obtained a pardon at +the expense of her friends; but on the other hand, the loss of her, and +the sense of her kindness in not making her market of what she knew, +moved my governess to mourn very sincerely for her. I comforted her as +well as I could, and she in return hardened me to merit more completely +the same fate. + +However, as I have said, it made me the more wary, and particularly I +was very shy of shoplifting, especially among the mercers and drapers, +who are a set of fellows that have their eyes very much about them. I +made a venture or two among the lace folks and the milliners, and +particularly at one shop where I got notice of two young women who were +newly set up, and had not been bred to the trade. There I think I +carried off a piece of bone-lace, worth six or seven pounds, and a +paper of thread. But this was but once; it was a trick that would not +serve again. + +It was always reckoned a safe job when we heard of a new shop, and +especially when the people were such as were not bred to shops. Such +may depend upon it that they will be visited once or twice at their +beginning, and they must be very sharp indeed if they can prevent it. + +I made another adventure or two, but they were but trifles too, though +sufficient to live on. After this nothing considerable offering for a +good while, I began to think that I must give over the trade in +earnest; but my governess, who was not willing to lose me, and expected +great things of me, brought me one day into company with a young woman +and a fellow that went for her husband, though as it appeared +afterwards, she was not his wife, but they were partners, it seems, in +the trade they carried on, and partners in something else. In short, +they robbed together, lay together, were taken together, and at last +were hanged together. + +I came into a kind of league with these two by the help of my +governess, and they carried me out into three or four adventures, where +I rather saw them commit some coarse and unhandy robberies, in which +nothing but a great stock of impudence on their side, and gross +negligence on the people’s side who were robbed, could have made them +successful. So I resolved from that time forward to be very cautious +how I adventured upon anything with them; and indeed, when two or three +unlucky projects were proposed by them, I declined the offer, and +persuaded them against it. One time they particularly proposed robbing +a watchmaker of three gold watches, which they had eyed in the daytime, +and found the place where he laid them. One of them had so many keys of +all kinds, that he made no question to open the place where the +watchmaker had laid them; and so we made a kind of an appointment; but +when I came to look narrowly into the thing, I found they proposed +breaking open the house, and this, as a thing out of my way, I would +not embark in, so they went without me. They did get into the house by +main force, and broke up the locked place where the watches were, but +found but one of the gold watches, and a silver one, which they took, +and got out of the house again very clear. But the family, being +alarmed, cried out “Thieves,” and the man was pursued and taken; the +young woman had got off too, but unhappily was stopped at a distance, +and the watches found upon her. And thus I had a second escape, for +they were convicted, and both hanged, being old offenders, though but +young people. As I said before that they robbed together and lay +together, so now they hanged together, and there ended my new +partnership. + +I began now to be very wary, having so narrowly escaped a scouring, and +having such an example before me; but I had a new tempter, who prompted +me every day—I mean my governess; and now a prize presented, which as +it came by her management, so she expected a good share of the booty. +There was a good quantity of Flanders lace lodged in a private house, +where she had gotten intelligence of it, and Flanders lace being +prohibited, it was a good booty to any custom-house officer that could +come at it. I had a full account from my governess, as well of the +quantity as of the very place where it was concealed, and I went to a +custom-house officer, and told him I had such a discovery to make to +him of such a quantity of lace, if he would assure me that I should +have my due share of the reward. This was so just an offer, that +nothing could be fairer; so he agreed, and taking a constable and me +with him, we beset the house. As I told him I could go directly to the +place, he left it to me; and the hole being very dark, I squeezed +myself into it, with a candle in my hand, and so reached the pieces out +to him, taking care as I gave him some so to secure as much about +myself as I could conveniently dispose of. There was near £300 worth of +lace in the hole, and I secured about £50 worth of it to myself. The +people of the house were not owners of the lace, but a merchant who had +entrusted them with it; so that they were not so surprised as I thought +they would be. + +I left the officer overjoyed with his prize, and fully satisfied with +what he had got, and appointed to meet him at a house of his own +directing, where I came after I had disposed of the cargo I had about +me, of which he had not the least suspicion. When I came to him he +began to capitulate with me, believing I did not understand the right I +had to a share in the prize, and would fain have put me off with £20, +but I let him know that I was not so ignorant as he supposed I was; and +yet I was glad, too, that he offered to bring me to a certainty. + +I asked £100, and he rose up to £30; I fell to £80, and he rose again +to £40; in a word, he offered £50, and I consented, only demanding a +piece of lace, which I thought came to about £8 or £9, as if it had +been for my own wear, and he agreed to it. So I got £50 in money paid +me that same night, and made an end of the bargain; nor did he ever +know who I was, or where to inquire for me, so that if it had been +discovered that part of the goods were embezzled, he could have made no +challenge upon me for it. + +I very punctually divided this spoil with my governess, and I passed +with her from this time for a very dexterous manager in the nicest +cases. I found that this last was the best and easiest sort of work +that was in my way, and I made it my business to inquire out prohibited +goods, and after buying some, usually betrayed them, but none of these +discoveries amounted to anything considerable, not like that I related +just now; but I was willing to act safe, and was still cautious of +running the great risks which I found others did, and in which they +miscarried every day. + +The next thing of moment was an attempt at a gentlewoman’s good watch. +It happened in a crowd, at a meeting-house, where I was in very great +danger of being taken. I had full hold of her watch, but giving a great +jostle, as if somebody had thrust me against her, and in the juncture +giving the watch a fair pull, I found it would not come, so I let it go +that moment, and cried out as if I had been killed, that somebody had +trod upon my foot, and that there were certainly pickpockets there, for +somebody or other had given a pull at my watch; for you are to observe +that on these adventures we always went very well dressed, and I had +very good clothes on, and a gold watch by my side, as like a lady as +other fold. + +I had no sooner said so, but the other gentlewoman cried out “A +pickpocket” too, for somebody, she said, had tried to pull her watch +away. + +When I touched her watch I was close to her, but when I cried out I +stopped as it were short, and the crowd bearing her forward a little, +she made a noise too, but it was at some distance from me, so that she +did not in the least suspect me; but when she cried out “A pickpocket,” +somebody cried, “Ay, and here has been another! this gentlewoman has +been attempted too.” + +At that very instance, a little farther in the crowd, and very luckily +too, they cried out “A pickpocket,” again, and really seized a young +fellow in the very act. This, though unhappy for the wretch, was very +opportunely for my case, though I had carried it off handsomely enough +before; but now it was out of doubt, and all the loose part of the +crowd ran that way, and the poor boy was delivered up to the rage of +the street, which is a cruelty I need not describe, and which, however, +they are always glad of, rather than to be sent to Newgate, where they +lie often a long time, till they are almost perished, and sometimes +they are hanged, and the best they can look for, if they are convicted, +is to be transported. + +This was a narrow escape to me, and I was so frighted that I ventured +no more at gold watches a great while. There was indeed a great many +concurring circumstances in this adventure which assisted to my escape; +but the chief was, that the woman whose watch I had pulled at was a +fool; that is to say, she was ignorant of the nature of the attempt, +which one would have thought she should not have been, seeing she was +wise enough to fasten her watch so that it could not be slipped up. But +she was in such a fright that she had no thought about her proper for +the discovery; for she, when she felt the pull, screamed out, and +pushed herself forward, and put all the people about her into disorder, +but said not a word of her watch, or of a pickpocket, for at least two +minutes’ time, which was time enough for me, and to spare. For as I had +cried out behind her, as I have said, and bore myself back in the crowd +as she bore forward, there were several people, at least seven or +eight, the throng being still moving on, that were got between me and +her in that time, and then I crying out “A pickpocket,” rather sooner +than she, or at least as soon, she might as well be the person +suspected as I, and the people were confused in their inquiry; whereas, +had she with a presence of mind needful on such an occasion, as soon as +she felt the pull, not screamed out as she did, but turned immediately +round and seized the next body that was behind her, she had infallibly +taken me. + +This is a direction not of the kindest sort to the fraternity, but ’tis +certainly a key to the clue of a pickpocket’s motions, and whoever can +follow it will as certainly catch the thief as he will be sure to miss +if he does not. + +I had another adventure, which puts this matter out of doubt, and which +may be an instruction for posterity in the case of a pickpocket. My +good old governess, to give a short touch at her history, though she +had left off the trade, was, as I may say, born a pickpocket, and, as I +understood afterwards, had run through all the several degrees of that +art, and yet had never been taken but once, when she was so grossly +detected, that she was convicted and ordered to be transported; but +being a woman of a rare tongue, and withal having money in her pocket, +she found means, the ship putting into Ireland for provisions, to get +on shore there, where she lived and practised her old trade for some +years; when falling into another sort of bad company, she turned +midwife and procuress, and played a hundred pranks there, which she +gave me a little history of in confidence between us as we grew more +intimate; and it was to this wicked creature that I owed all the art +and dexterity I arrived to, in which there were few that ever went +beyond me, or that practised so long without any misfortune. + +It was after those adventures in Ireland, and when she was pretty well +known in that country, that she left Dublin and came over to England, +where, the time of her transportation being not expired, she left her +former trade, for fear of falling into bad hands again, for then she +was sure to have gone to wreck. Here she set up the same trade she had +followed in Ireland, in which she soon, by her admirable management and +good tongue, arrived to the height which I have already described, and +indeed began to be rich, though her trade fell off again afterwards, as +I have hinted before. + +I mentioned thus much of the history of this woman here, the better to +account for the concern she had in the wicked life I was now leading, +into all the particulars of which she led me, as it were, by the hand, +and gave me such directions, and I so well followed them, that I grew +the greatest artist of my time and worked myself out of every danger +with such dexterity, that when several more of my comrades ran +themselves into Newgate presently, and by that time they had been half +a year at the trade, I had now practised upwards of five years, and the +people at Newgate did not so much as know me; they had heard much of me +indeed, and often expected me there, but I always got off, though many +times in the extremest danger. + +One of the greatest dangers I was now in, was that I was too well known +among the trade, and some of them, whose hatred was owing rather to +envy than any injury I had done them, began to be angry that I should +always escape when they were always catched and hurried to Newgate. +These were they that gave me the name of Moll Flanders; for it was no +more of affinity with my real name or with any of the name I had ever +gone by, than black is of kin to white, except that once, as before, I +called myself Mrs. Flanders; when I sheltered myself in the Mint; but +that these rogues never knew, nor could I ever learn how they came to +give me the name, or what the occasion of it was. + +I was soon informed that some of these who were gotten fast into +Newgate had vowed to impeach me; and as I knew that two or three of +them were but too able to do it, I was under a great concern about it, +and kept within doors for a good while. But my governess—whom I always +made partner in my success, and who now played a sure game with me, for +that she had a share of the gain and no share in the hazard—I say, my +governess was something impatient of my leading such a useless, +unprofitable life, as she called it; and she laid a new contrivance for +my going abroad, and this was to dress me up in men’s clothes, and so +put me into a new kind of practice. + +I was tall and personable, but a little too smooth-faced for a man; +however, I seldom went abroad but in the night, it did well enough; but +it was a long time before I could behave in my new clothes—I mean, as +to my craft. It was impossible to be so nimble, so ready, so dexterous +at these things in a dress so contrary to nature; and I did everything +clumsily, so I had neither the success nor the easiness of escape that +I had before, and I resolved to leave it off; but that resolution was +confirmed soon after by the following accident. + +As my governess disguised me like a man, so she joined me with a man, a +young fellow that was nimble enough at his business, and for about +three weeks we did very well together. Our principal trade was watching +shopkeepers’ counters, and slipping off any kind of goods we could see +carelessly laid anywhere, and we made several good bargains, as we +called them, at this work. And as we kept always together, so we grew +very intimate, yet he never knew that I was not a man, nay, though I +several times went home with him to his lodgings, according as our +business directed, and four or five times lay with him all night. But +our design lay another way, and it was absolutely necessary to me to +conceal my sex from him, as appeared afterwards. The circumstances of +our living, coming in late, and having such and such business to do as +required that nobody should be trusted with the coming into our +lodgings, were such as made it impossible to me to refuse lying with +him, unless I would have owned my sex; and as it was, I effectually +concealed myself. But his ill, and my good fortune, soon put an end to +this life, which I must own I was sick of too, on several other +accounts. We had made several prizes in this new way of business, but +the last would be extraordinary. There was a shop in a certain street +which had a warehouse behind it that looked into another street, the +house making the corner of the turning. + +Through the window of the warehouse we saw, lying on the counter or +showboard, which was just before it, five pieces of silks, besides +other stuffs, and though it was almost dark, yet the people, being busy +in the fore-shop with customers, had not had time to shut up those +windows, or else had forgot it. + +This the young fellow was so overjoyed with, that he could not restrain +himself. It lay all within his reach he said, and he swore violently to +me that he would have it, if he broke down the house for it. I +dissuaded him a little, but saw there was no remedy; so he ran rashly +upon it, slipped out a square of the sash window dexterously enough, +and without noise, and got out four pieces of the silks, and came with +them towards me, but was immediately pursued with a terrible clutter +and noise. We were standing together indeed, but I had not taken any of +the goods out of his hand, when I said to him hastily, “You are undone, +fly, for God’s sake!” He ran like lightning, and I too, but the pursuit +was hotter after him because he had the goods, than after me. He +dropped two of the pieces, which stopped them a little, but the crowd +increased and pursued us both. They took him soon after with the other +two pieces upon him, and then the rest followed me. I ran for it and +got into my governess’s house whither some quick-eyed people followed +me so warmly as to fix me there. They did not immediately knock, at the +door, by which I got time to throw off my disguise and dress me in my +own clothes; besides, when they came there, my governess, who had her +tale ready, kept her door shut, and called out to them and told them +there was no man come in there. The people affirmed there did a man +come in there, and swore they would break open the door. + +My governess, not at all surprised, spoke calmly to them, told them +they should very freely come and search her house, if they should bring +a constable, and let in none but such as the constable would admit, for +it was unreasonable to let in a whole crowd. This they could not +refuse, though they were a crowd. So a constable was fetched +immediately, and she very freely opened the door; the constable kept +the door, and the men he appointed searched the house, my governess +going with them from room to room. When she came to my room she called +to me, and said aloud, “Cousin, pray open the door; here’s some +gentlemen that must come and look into your room.” + +I had a little girl with me, which was my governess’s grandchild, as +she called her; and I bade her open the door, and there sat I at work +with a great litter of things about me, as if I had been at work all +day, being myself quite undressed, with only night-clothes on my head, +and a loose morning-gown wrapped about me. My governess made a kind of +excuse for their disturbing me, telling me partly the occasion of it, +and that she had no remedy but to open the doors to them, and let them +satisfy themselves, for all she could say to them would not satisfy +them. I sat still, and bid them search the room if they pleased, for if +there was anybody in the house, I was sure they were not in my room; +and as for the rest of the house, I had nothing to say to that, I did +not understand what they looked for. + +Everything looked so innocent and so honest about me, that they treated +me civiller than I expected, but it was not till they had searched the +room to a nicety, even under the bed, in the bed, and everywhere else +where it was possible anything could be hid. When they had done this, +and could find nothing, they asked my pardon for troubling me, and went +down. + +When they had thus searched the house from bottom to top, and then top +to bottom, and could find nothing, they appeased the mob pretty well; +but they carried my governess before the justice. Two men swore that +they saw the man whom they pursued go into her house. My governess +rattled and made a great noise that her house should be insulted, and +that she should be used thus for nothing; that if a man did come in, he +might go out again presently for aught she knew, for she was ready to +make oath that no man had been within her doors all that day as she +knew of (and that was very true indeed); that it might be indeed that +as she was abovestairs, any fellow in a fright might find the door open +and run in for shelter when he was pursued, but that she knew nothing +of it; and if it had been so, he certainly went out again, perhaps at +the other door, for she had another door into an alley, and so had made +his escape and cheated them all. + +This was indeed probable enough, and the justice satisfied himself with +giving her an oath that she had not received or admitted any man into +her house to conceal him, or protect or hide him from justice. This +oath she might justly take, and did so, and so she was dismissed. + +It is easy to judge what a fright I was in upon this occasion, and it +was impossible for my governess ever to bring me to dress in that +disguise again; for, as I told her, I should certainly betray myself. + +My poor partner in this mischief was now in a bad case, for he was +carried away before my Lord Mayor, and by his worship committed to +Newgate, and the people that took him were so willing, as well as able, +to prosecute him, that they offered themselves to enter into +recognisances to appear at the sessions and pursue the charge against +him. + +However, he got his indictment deferred, upon promise to discover his +accomplices, and particularly the man that was concerned with him in +his robbery; and he failed not to do his endeavour, for he gave in my +name, whom he called Gabriel Spencer, which was the name I went by to +him; and here appeared the wisdom of my concealing my name and sex from +him, which, if he had ever known I had been undone. + +He did all he could to discover this Gabriel Spencer; he described me, +he discovered the place where he said I lodged, and, in a word, all the +particulars that he could of my dwelling; but having concealed the main +circumstances of my sex from him, I had a vast advantage, and he never +could hear of me. He brought two or three families into trouble by his +endeavouring to find me out, but they knew nothing of me, any more than +that I had a fellow with me that they had seen, but knew nothing of. +And as for my governess, though she was the means of his coming to me, +yet it was done at second-hand, and he knew nothing of her. + +This turned to his disadvantage; for having promised discoveries, but +not being able to make it good, it was looked upon as trifling with the +justice of the city, and he was the more fiercely pursued by the +shopkeepers who took him. + +I was, however, terribly uneasy all this while, and that I might be +quite out of the way, I went away from my governess’s for a while; but +not knowing wither to wander, I took a maid-servant with me, and took +the stage-coach to Dunstable, to my old landlord and landlady, where I +had lived so handsomely with my Lancashire husband. Here I told her a +formal story, that I expected my husband every day from Ireland, and +that I had sent a letter to him that I would meet him at Dunstable at +her house, and that he would certainly land, if the wind was fair, in a +few days, so that I was come to spend a few days with them till he +should come, for he was either come post, or in the West Chester coach, +I knew not which; but whichsoever it was, he would be sure to come to +that house to meet me. + +My landlady was mighty glad to see me, and my landlord made such a stir +with me, that if I had been a princess I could not have been better +used, and here I might have been welcome a month or two if I had +thought fit. + +But my business was of another nature. I was very uneasy (though so +well disguised that it was scarce possible to detect me) lest this +fellow should somehow or other find me out; and though he could not +charge me with this robbery, having persuaded him not to venture, and +having also done nothing in it myself but run away, yet he might have +charged me with other things, and have bought his own life at the +expense of mine. + +This filled me with horrible apprehensions. I had no recourse, no +friend, no confidante but my old governess, and I knew no remedy but to +put my life in her hands, and so I did, for I let her know where to +send to me, and had several letters from her while I stayed here. Some +of them almost scared me out my wits but at last she sent me the joyful +news that he was hanged, which was the best news to me that I had heard +a great while. + +I had stayed here five weeks, and lived very comfortably indeed (the +secret anxiety of my mind excepted); but when I received this letter I +looked pleasantly again, and told my landlady that I had received a +letter from my spouse in Ireland, that I had the good news of his being +very well, but had the bad news that his business would not permit him +to come away so soon as he expected, and so I was like to go back again +without him. + +My landlady complimented me upon the good news however, that I had +heard he was well. “For I have observed, madam,” says she, “you hadn’t +been so pleasant as you used to be; you have been over head and ears in +care for him, I dare say,” says the good woman; “’tis easy to be seen +there’s an alteration in you for the better,” says she. “Well, I am +sorry the esquire can’t come yet,” says my landlord; “I should have +been heartily glad to have seen him. But I hope, when you have certain +news of his coming, you’ll take a step hither again, madam,” says he; +“you shall be very welcome whenever you please to come.” + +With all these fine compliments we parted, and I came merry enough to +London, and found my governess as well pleased as I was. And now she +told me she would never recommend any partner to me again, for she +always found, she said, that I had the best luck when I ventured by +myself. And so indeed I had, for I was seldom in any danger when I was +by myself, or if I was, I got out of it with more dexterity than when I +was entangled with the dull measures of other people, who had perhaps +less forecast, and were more rash and impatient than I; for though I +had as much courage to venture as any of them, yet I used more caution +before I undertook a thing, and had more presence of mind when I was to +bring myself off. + +I have often wondered even at my own hardiness another way, that when +all my companions were surprised and fell so suddenly into the hand of +justice, and that I so narrowly escaped, yet I could not all this while +enter into one serious resolution to leave off this trade, and +especially considering that I was now very far from being poor; that +the temptation of necessity, which is generally the introduction of all +such wickedness, was now removed; for I had near £500 by me in ready +money, on which I might have lived very well, if I had thought fit to +have retired; but I say, I had not so much as the least inclination to +leave off; no, not so much as I had before when I had but £200 +beforehand, and when I had no such frightful examples before my eyes as +these were. From hence ’tis evident to me, that when once we are +hardened in crime, no fear can affect us, no example give us any +warning. + +I had indeed one comrade whose fate went very near me for a good while, +though I wore it off too in time. That case was indeed very unhappy. I +had made a prize of a piece of very good damask in a mercer’s shop, and +went clear off myself, but had conveyed the piece to this companion of +mine when we went out of the shop, and she went one way and I went +another. We had not been long out of the shop but the mercer missed his +piece of stuff, and sent his messengers, one one way and one another, +and they presently seized her that had the piece, with the damask upon +her. As for me, I had very luckily stepped into a house where there was +a lace chamber, up one pair of stairs, and had the satisfaction, or the +terror indeed, of looking out of the window upon the noise they made, +and seeing the poor creature dragged away in triumph to the justice, +who immediately committed her to Newgate. + +I was careful to attempt nothing in the lace chamber, but tumbled their +goods pretty much to spend time; then bought a few yards of edging and +paid for it, and came away very sad-hearted indeed for the poor woman, +who was in tribulation for what I only had stolen. + +Here again my old caution stood me in good stead; namely, that though I +often robbed with these people, yet I never let them know who I was, or +where I lodged, nor could they ever find out my lodging, though they +often endeavoured to watch me to it. They all knew me by the name of +Moll Flanders, though even some of them rather believed I was she than +knew me to be so. My name was public among them indeed, but how to find +me out they knew not, nor so much as how to guess at my quarters, +whether they were at the east end of the town or the west; and this +wariness was my safety upon all these occasions. + +I kept close a great while upon the occasion of this woman’s disaster. +I knew that if I should do anything that should miscarry, and should be +carried to prison, she would be there and ready to witness against me, +and perhaps save her life at my expense. I considered that I began to +be very well known by name at the Old Bailey, though they did not know +my face, and that if I should fall into their hands, I should be +treated as an old offender; and for this reason I was resolved to see +what this poor creature’s fate should be before I stirred abroad, +though several times in her distress I conveyed money to her for her +relief. + +At length she came to her trial. She pleaded she did not steal the +thing, but that one Mrs. Flanders, as she heard her called (for she did +not know her), gave the bundle to her after they came out of the shop, +and bade her carry it home to her lodging. They asked her where this +Mrs. Flanders was, but she could not produce her, neither could she +give the least account of me; and the mercer’s men swearing positively +that she was in the shop when the goods were stolen, that they +immediately missed them, and pursued her, and found them upon her, +thereupon the jury brought her in guilty; but the Court, considering +that she was really not the person that stole the goods, an inferior +assistant, and that it was very possible she could not find out this +Mrs. Flanders, meaning me, though it would save her life, which indeed +was true—I say, considering all this, they allowed her to be +transported, which was the utmost favour she could obtain, only that +the Court told her that if she could in the meantime produce the said +Mrs. Flanders, they would intercede for her pardon; that is to say, if +she could find me out, and hand me, she should not be transported. This +I took care to make impossible to her, and so she was shipped off in +pursuance of her sentence a little while after. + +I must repeat it again, that the fate of this poor woman troubled me +exceedingly, and I began to be very pensive, knowing that I was really +the instrument of her disaster; but the preservation of my own life, +which was so evidently in danger, took off all my tenderness; and +seeing that she was not put to death, I was very easy at her +transportation, because she was then out of the way of doing me any +mischief, whatever should happen. + +The disaster of this woman was some months before that of the +last-recited story, and was indeed partly occasion of my governess +proposing to dress me up in men’s clothes, that I might go about +unobserved, as indeed I did; but I was soon tired of that disguise, as +I have said, for indeed it exposed me to too many difficulties. + +I was now easy as to all fear of witnesses against me, for all those +that had either been concerned with me, or that knew me by the name of +Moll Flanders, were either hanged or transported; and if I should have +had the misfortune to be taken, I might call myself anything else, as +well as Moll Flanders, and no old sins could be placed into my account; +so I began to run a-tick again with the more freedom, and several +successful adventures I made, though not such as I had made before. + +We had at that time another fire happened not a great way off from the +place where my governess lived, and I made an attempt there, as before, +but as I was not soon enough before the crowd of people came in, and +could not get to the house I aimed at, instead of a prize, I got a +mischief, which had almost put a period to my life and all my wicked +doings together; for the fire being very furious, and the people in a +great fright in removing their goods, and throwing them out of window, +a wench from out of a window threw a feather-bed just upon me. It is +true, the bed being soft, it broke no bones; but as the weight was +great, and made greater by the fall, it beat me down, and laid me dead +for a while. Nor did the people concern themselves much to deliver me +from it, or to recover me at all; but I lay like one dead and neglected +a good while, till somebody going to remove the bed out of the way, +helped me up. It was indeed a wonder the people in the house had not +thrown other goods out after it, and which might have fallen upon it, +and then I had been inevitably killed; but I was reserved for further +afflictions. + +This accident, however, spoiled my market for that time, and I came +home to my governess very much hurt and bruised, and frighted to the +last degree, and it was a good while before she could set me upon my +feet again. + +It was now a merry time of the year, and Bartholomew Fair was begun. I +had never made any walks that way, nor was the common part of the fair +of much advantage to me; but I took a turn this year into the +cloisters, and among the rest I fell into one of the raffling shops. It +was a thing of no great consequence to me, nor did I expect to make +much of it; but there came a gentleman extremely well dressed and very +rich, and as ’tis frequent to talk to everybody in those shops, he +singled me out, and was very particular with me. First he told me he +would put in for me to raffle, and did so; and some small matter coming +to his lot, he presented it to me (I think it was a feather muff); then +he continued to keep talking to me with a more than common appearance +of respect, but still very civil, and much like a gentleman. + +He held me in talk so long, till at last he drew me out of the raffling +place to the shop-door, and then to a walk in the cloister, still +talking of a thousand things cursorily without anything to the purpose. +At last he told me that, without compliment, he was charmed with my +company, and asked me if I durst trust myself in a coach with him; he +told me he was a man of honour, and would not offer anything to me +unbecoming him as such. I seemed to decline it a while, but suffered +myself to be importuned a little, and then yielded. + +I was at a loss in my thoughts to conclude at first what this gentleman +designed; but I found afterwards he had had some drink in his head, and +that he was not very unwilling to have some more. He carried me in the +coach to the Spring Garden, at Knightsbridge, where we walked in the +gardens, and he treated me very handsomely; but I found he drank very +freely. He pressed me also to drink, but I declined it. + +Hitherto he kept his word with me, and offered me nothing amiss. We +came away in the coach again, and he brought me into the streets, and +by this time it was near ten o’clock at night, and he stopped the coach +at a house where, it seems, he was acquainted, and where they made no +scruple to show us upstairs into a room with a bed in it. At first I +seemed to be unwilling to go up, but after a few words I yielded to +that too, being willing to see the end of it, and in hope to make +something of it at last. As for the bed, etc., I was not much concerned +about that part. + +Here he began to be a little freer with me than he had promised; and I +by little and little yielded to everything, so that, in a word, he did +what he pleased with me; I need say no more. All this while he drank +freely too, and about one in the morning we went into the coach again. +The air and the shaking of the coach made the drink he had get more up +in his head than it was before, and he grew uneasy in the coach, and +was for acting over again what he had been doing before; but as I +thought my game now secure, I resisted him, and brought him to be a +little still, which had not lasted five minutes but he fell fast +asleep. + +I took this opportunity to search him to a nicety. I took a gold watch, +with a silk purse of gold, his fine full-bottom periwig and +silver-fringed gloves, his sword and fine snuff-box, and gently opening +the coach door, stood ready to jump out while the coach was going on; +but the coach stopped in the narrow street beyond Temple Bar to let +another coach pass, I got softly out, fastened the door again, and gave +my gentleman and the coach the slip both together, and never heard more +of them. + +This was an adventure indeed unlooked for, and perfectly undesigned by +me; though I was not so past the merry part of life, as to forget how +to behave, when a fop so blinded by his appetite should not know an old +woman from a young. I did not indeed look so old as I was by ten or +twelve years; yet I was not a young wench of seventeen, and it was easy +enough to be distinguished. There is nothing so absurd, so surfeiting, +so ridiculous, as a man heated by wine in his head, and wicked gust in +his inclination together; he is in the possession of two devils at +once, and can no more govern himself by his reason than a mill can +grind without water; his vice tramples upon all that was in him that +had any good in it, if any such thing there was; nay, his very sense is +blinded by its own rage, and he acts absurdities even in his views; +such a drinking more, when he is drunk already; picking up a common +woman, without regard to what she is or who she is, whether sound or +rotten, clean or unclean, whether ugly or handsome, whether old or +young, and so blinded as not really to distinguish. Such a man is worse +than a lunatic; prompted by his vicious, corrupted head, he no more +knows what he is doing than this wretch of mine knew when I picked his +pocket of his watch and his purse of gold. + +These are the men of whom Solomon says, “They go like an ox to the +slaughter, till a dart strikes through their liver”; an admirable +description, by the way, of the foul disease, which is a poisonous +deadly contagion mingling with the blood, whose centre or foundation is +in the liver; from whence, by the swift circulation of the whole mass, +that dreadful nauseous plague strikes immediately through his liver, +and his spirits are infected, his vitals stabbed through as with a +dart. + +It is true this poor unguarded wretch was in no danger from me, though +I was greatly apprehensive at first of what danger I might be in from +him; but he was really to be pitied in one respect, that he seemed to +be a good sort of man in himself; a gentleman that had no harm in his +design; a man of sense, and of a fine behaviour, a comely handsome +person, a sober solid countenance, a charming beautiful face, and +everything that could be agreeable; only had unhappily had some drink +the night before, had not been in bed, as he told me when we were +together; was hot, and his blood fired with wine, and in that condition +his reason, as it were asleep, had given him up. + +As for me, my business was his money, and what I could make of him; and +after that, if I could have found out any way to have done it, I would +have sent him safe home to his house and to his family, for ’twas ten +to one but he had an honest, virtuous wife and innocent children, that +were anxious for his safety, and would have been glad to have gotten +him home, and have taken care of him till he was restored to himself. +And then with what shame and regret would he look back upon himself! +how would he reproach himself with associating himself with a whore! +picked up in the worst of all holes, the cloister, among the dirt and +filth of all the town! how would he be trembling for fear he had got +the pox, for fear a dart had struck through his liver, and hate himself +every time he looked back upon the madness and brutality of his +debauch! how would he, if he had any principles of honour, as I verily +believe he had—I say, how would he abhor the thought of giving any ill +distemper, if he had it, as for aught he knew he might, to his modest +and virtuous wife, and thereby sowing the contagion in the life-blood +of his posterity. + +Would such gentlemen but consider the contemptible thoughts which the +very women they are concerned with, in such cases as these, have of +them, it would be a surfeit to them. As I said above, they value not +the pleasure, they are raised by no inclination to the man, the passive +jade thinks of no pleasure but the money; and when he is, as it were, +drunk in the ecstasies of his wicked pleasure, her hands are in his +pockets searching for what she can find there, and of which he can no +more be sensible in the moment of his folly that he can forethink of it +when he goes about it. + +I knew a woman that was so dexterous with a fellow, who indeed deserved +no better usage, that while he was busy with her another way, conveyed +his purse with twenty guineas in it out of his fob-pocket, where he had +put it for fear of her, and put another purse with gilded counters in +it into the room of it. After he had done, he says to her, “Now han’t +you picked my pocket?” She jested with him, and told him she supposed +he had not much to lose; he put his hand to his fob, and with his +fingers felt that his purse was there, which fully satisfied him, and +so she brought off his money. And this was a trade with her; she kept a +sham gold watch, that is, a watch of silver gilt, and a purse of +counters in her pocket to be ready on all such occasions, and I doubt +not practiced it with success. + +I came home with this last booty to my governess, and really when I +told her the story, it so affected her that she was hardly able to +forbear tears, to know how such a gentleman ran a daily risk of being +undone every time a glass of wine got into his head. + +But as to the purchase I got, and how entirely I stripped him, she told +me it pleased her wonderfully. “Nay child,” says she, “the usage may, +for aught I know, do more to reform him than all the sermons that ever +he will hear in his life.” And if the remainder of the story be true, +so it did. + +I found the next day she was wonderful inquisitive about this +gentleman; the description I had given her of him, his dress, his +person, his face, everything concurred to make her think of a gentleman +whose character she knew, and family too. She mused a while, and I +going still on with the particulars, she starts up; says she, “I’ll lay +£100 I know the gentleman.” + +“I am sorry you do,” says I, “for I would not have him exposed on any +account in the world; he has had injury enough already by me, and I +would not be instrumental to do him any more.” “No, no,” says she, “I +will do him no injury, I assure you, but you may let me satisfy my +curiosity a little, for if it is he, I warrant you I find it out.” I +was a little startled at that, and told her, with an apparent concern +in my face, that by the same rule he might find me out, and then I was +undone. She returned warmly, “Why, do you think I will betray you, +child? No, no,” says she, “not for all he is worth in the world. I have +kept your counsel in worse things than these; sure you may trust me in +this.” So I said no more at that time. + +She laid her scheme another way, and without acquainting me of it, but +she was resolved to find it out if possible. So she goes to a certain +friend of hers who was acquainted in the family that she guessed at, +and told her friend she had some extraordinary business with such a +gentleman (who, by the way, was no less than a baronet, and of a very +good family), and that she knew not how to come at him without somebody +to introduce her. Her friend promised her very readily to do it, and +accordingly goes to the house to see if the gentleman was in town. + +The next day she come to my governess and tells her that Sir —— was at +home, but that he had met with a disaster and was very ill, and there +was no speaking with him. “What disaster?” says my governess hastily, +as if she was surprised at it. “Why,” says her friend, “he had been at +Hampstead to visit a gentleman of his acquaintance, and as he came back +again he was set upon and robbed; and having got a little drink too, as +they suppose, the rogues abused him, and he is very ill.” “Robbed!” +says my governess, “and what did they take from him?” “Why,” says her +friend, “they took his gold watch and his gold snuff-box, his fine +periwig, and what money he had in his pocket, which was considerable, +to be sure, for Sir —— never goes without a purse of guineas about +him.” + +“Pshaw!” says my old governess, jeering, “I warrant you he has got +drunk now and got a whore, and she has picked his pocket, and so he +comes home to his wife and tells her he has been robbed. That’s an old +sham; a thousand such tricks are put upon the poor women every day.” + +“Fie!” says her friend, “I find you don’t know Sir ——; why he is as +civil a gentleman, there is not a finer man, nor a soberer, graver, +modester person in the whole city; he abhors such things; there’s +nobody that knows him will think such a thing of him.” “Well, well,” +says my governess, “that’s none of my business; if it was, I warrant I +should find there was something of that kind in it; your modest men in +common opinion are sometimes no better than other people, only they +keep a better character, or, if you please, are the better hypocrites.” + +“No, no,” says her friend, “I can assure you Sir —— is no hypocrite, he +is really an honest, sober gentleman, and he has certainly been +robbed.” “Nay,” says my governess, “it may be he has; it is no business +of mine, I tell you; I only want to speak with him; my business is of +another nature.” “But,” says her friend, “let your business be of what +nature it will, you cannot see him yet, for he is not fit to be seen, +for he is very ill, and bruised very much.” “Ay,” says my governess, +“nay, then he has fallen into bad hands, to be sure.” And then she +asked gravely, “Pray, where is he bruised?” “Why, in the head,” says +her friend, “and one of his hands, and his face, for they used him +barbarously.” “Poor gentleman,” says my governess, “I must wait, then, +till he recovers”; and adds, “I hope it will not be long, for I want +very much to speak with him.” + +Away she comes to me and tells me this story. “I have found out your +fine gentleman, and a fine gentleman he was,” says she; “but, mercy on +him, he is in a sad pickle now. I wonder what the d—l you have done to +him; why, you have almost killed him.” I looked at her with disorder +enough. “I killed him!” says I; “you must mistake the person; I am sure +I did nothing to him; he was very well when I left him,” said I, “only +drunk and fast asleep.” “I know nothing of that,” says she, “but he is +in a sad pickle now”; and so she told me all that her friend had said +to her. “Well, then,” says I, “he fell into bad hands after I left him, +for I am sure I left him safe enough.” + +About ten days after, or a little more, my governess goes again to her +friend, to introduce her to this gentleman; she had inquired other ways +in the meantime, and found that he was about again, if not abroad +again, so she got leave to speak with him. + +She was a woman of a admirable address, and wanted nobody to introduce +her; she told her tale much better than I shall be able to tell it for +her, for she was a mistress of her tongue, as I have said already. She +told him that she came, though a stranger, with a single design of +doing him a service and he should find she had no other end in it; that +as she came purely on so friendly an account, she begged promise from +him, that if he did not accept what she should officiously propose he +would not take it ill that she meddled with what was not her business. +She assured him that as what she had to say was a secret that belonged +to him only, so whether he accepted her offer or not, it should remain +a secret to all the world, unless he exposed it himself; nor should his +refusing her service in it make her so little show her respect as to do +him the least injury, so that he should be entirely at liberty to act +as he thought fit. + +He looked very shy at first, and said he knew nothing that related to +him that required much secrecy; that he had never done any man any +wrong, and cared not what anybody might say of him; that it was no part +of his character to be unjust to anybody, nor could he imagine in what +any man could render him any service; but that if it was so +disinterested a service as she said, he could not take it ill from any +one that they should endeavour to serve him; and so, as it were, left +her a liberty either to tell him or not to tell, as she thought fit. + +She found him so perfectly indifferent, that she was almost afraid to +enter into the point with him; but, however, after some other +circumlocutions she told him that by a strange and unaccountable +accident she came to have a particular knowledge of the late unhappy +adventure he had fallen into, and that in such a manner, that there was +nobody in the world but herself and him that were acquainted with it, +no, not the very person that was with him. + +He looked a little angrily at first. “What adventure?” said he. “Why,” +said she, “of your being robbed coming from Knightbr——; Hampstead, sir, +I should say,” says she. “Be not surprised, sir,” says she, “that I am +able to tell you every step you took that day from the cloister in +Smithfield to the Spring Garden at Knightsbridge, and thence to the —— +in the Strand, and how you were left asleep in the coach afterwards. I +say, let not this surprise you, for, sir, I do not come to make a booty +of you, I ask nothing of you, and I assure you the woman that was with +you knows nothing who you are, and never shall; and yet perhaps I may +serve you further still, for I did not come barely to let you know that +I was informed of these things, as if I wanted a bribe to conceal them; +assure yourself, sir,” said she, “that whatever you think fit to do or +say to me, it shall be all a secret as it is, as much as if I were in +my grave.” + +He was astonished at her discourse, and said gravely to her, “Madam, +you are a stranger to me, but it is very unfortunate that you should be +let into the secret of the worst action of my life, and a thing that I +am so justly ashamed of, that the only satisfaction of it to me was, +that I thought it was known only to God and my own conscience.” “Pray, +sir,” says she, “do not reckon the discovery of it to me to be any part +of your misfortune. It was a thing, I believe, you were surprised into, +and perhaps the woman used some art to prompt you to it; however, you +will never find any just cause,” said she, “to repent that I came to +hear of it; nor can your own mouth be more silent in it that I have +been, and ever shall be.” + +“Well,” says he, “but let me do some justice to the woman too; whoever +she is, I do assure you she prompted me to nothing, she rather declined +me. It was my own folly and madness that brought me into it all, ay, +and brought her into it too; I must give her her due so far. As to what +she took from me, I could expect no less from her in the condition I +was in, and to this hour I know not whether she robbed me or the +coachman; if she did it, I forgive her, and I think all gentlemen that +do so should be used in the same manner; but I am more concerned for +some other things that I am for all that she took from me.” + +My governess now began to come into the whole matter, and he opened +himself freely to her. First she said to him, in answer to what he had +said about me, “I am glad, sir, you are so just to the person that you +were with; I assure you she is a gentlewoman, and no woman of the town; +and however you prevailed with her so far as you did, I am sure ’tis +not her practice. You ran a great venture indeed, sir; but if that be +any part of your care, I am persuaded you may be perfectly easy, for I +dare assure you no man has touched her, before you, since her husband, +and he has been dead now almost eight years.” + +It appeared that this was his grievance, and that he was in a very +great fright about it; however, when my governess said this to him, he +appeared very well pleased, and said, “Well, madam, to be plain with +you, if I was satisfied of that, I should not so much value what I +lost; for, as to that, the temptation was great, and perhaps she was +poor and wanted it.” “If she had not been poor, sir ——,” says my +governess, “I assure you she would never have yielded to you; and as +her poverty first prevailed with her to let you do as you did, so the +same poverty prevailed with her to pay herself at last, when she saw +you were in such a condition, that if she had not done it, perhaps the +next coachman might have done it.” + +“Well,” says he, “much good may it do her. I say again, all the +gentlemen that do so ought to be used in the same manner, and then they +would be cautious of themselves. I have no more concern about it, but +on the score which you hinted at before, madam.” Here he entered into +some freedoms with her on the subject of what passed between us, which +are not so proper for a woman to write, and the great terror that was +upon his mind with relation to his wife, for fear he should have +received any injury from me, and should communicate it farther; and +asked her at last if she could not procure him an opportunity to speak +with me. My governess gave him further assurances of my being a woman +clear from any such thing, and that he was as entirely safe in that +respect as he was with his own lady; but as for seeing me, she said it +might be of dangerous consequence; but, however, that she would talk +with me, and let him know my answer, using at the same time some +arguments to persuade him not to desire it, and that it could be of no +service to him, seeing she hoped he had no desire to renew a +correspondence with me, and that on my account it was a kind of putting +my life in his hands. + +He told her he had a great desire to see me, that he would give her any +assurances that were in his power, not to take any advantages of me, +and that in the first place he would give me a general release from all +demands of any kind. She insisted how it might tend to a further +divulging the secret, and might in the end be injurious to him, +entreating him not to press for it; so at length he desisted. + +They had some discourse upon the subject of the things he had lost, and +he seemed to be very desirous of his gold watch, and told her if she +could procure that for him, he would willingly give as much for it as +it was worth. She told him she would endeavour to procure it for him, +and leave the valuing it to himself. + +Accordingly the next day she carried the watch, and he gave her thirty +guineas for it, which was more than I should have been able to make of +it, though it seems it cost much more. He spoke something of his +periwig, which it seems cost him threescore guineas, and his snuff-box, +and in a few days more she carried them too; which obliged him very +much, and he gave her thirty more. The next day I sent him his fine +sword and cane gratis, and demanded nothing of him, but I had no mind +to see him, unless it had been so that he might be satisfied I knew who +he was, which he was not willing to. + +Then he entered into a long talk with her of the manner how she came to +know all this matter. She formed a long tale of that part; how she had +it from one that I had told the whole story to, and that was to help me +dispose of the goods; and this confidante brought the things to her, +she being by profession a pawnbroker; and she hearing of his worship’s +disaster, guessed at the thing in general; that having gotten the +things into her hands, she had resolved to come and try as she had +done. She then gave him repeated assurances that it should never go out +of her mouth, and though she knew the woman very well, yet she had not +let her know, meaning me, anything of it; that is to say, who the +person was, which, by the way, was false; but, however, it was not to +his damage, for I never opened my mouth of it to anybody. + +I had a great many thoughts in my head about my seeing him again, and +was often sorry that I had refused it. I was persuaded that if I had +seen him, and let him know that I knew him, I should have made some +advantage of him, and perhaps have had some maintenance from him; and +though it was a life wicked enough, yet it was not so full of danger as +this I was engaged in. However, those thoughts wore off, and I declined +seeing him again, for that time; but my governess saw him often, and he +was very kind to her, giving her something almost every time he saw +her. One time in particular she found him very merry, and as she +thought he had some wine in his head, and he pressed her again very +earnestly to let him see that woman that, as he said, had bewitched him +so that night, my governess, who was from the beginning for my seeing +him, told him he was so desirous of it that she could almost yield of +it, if she could prevail upon me; adding that if he would please to +come to her house in the evening, she would endeavour it, upon his +repeated assurances of forgetting what was past. + +Accordingly she came to me, and told me all the discourse; in short, +she soon biassed me to consent, in a case which I had some regret in my +mind for declining before; so I prepared to see him. I dressed me to +all the advantage possible, I assure you, and for the first time used a +little art; I say for the first time, for I had never yielded to the +baseness of paint before, having always had vanity enough to believe I +had no need of it. + +At the hour appointed he came; and as she observed before, so it was +plain still, that he had been drinking, though very far from what we +call being in drink. He appeared exceeding pleased to see me, and +entered into a long discourse with me upon the old affair. I begged his +pardon very often for my share of it, protested I had not any such +design when first I met him, that I had not gone out with him but that +I took him for a very civil gentleman, and that he made me so many +promises of offering no uncivility to me. + +He alleged the wine he drank, and that he scarce knew what he did, and +that if it had not been so, I should never have let him take the +freedom with me that he had done. He protested to me that he never +touched any woman but me since he was married to his wife, and it was a +surprise upon him; complimented me upon being so particularly agreeable +to him, and the like; and talked so much of that kind, till I found he +had talked himself almost into a temper to do the same thing over +again. But I took him up short. I protested I had never suffered any +man to touch me since my husband died, which was near eight years. He +said he believed it to be so truly; and added that madam had intimated +as much to him, and that it was his opinion of that part which made his +desire to see me again; and that since he had once broke in upon his +virtue with me, and found no ill consequences, he could be safe in +venturing there again; and so, in short, it went on to what I expected, +and to what will not bear relating. + +My old governess had foreseen it, as well as I, and therefore led him +into a room which had not a bed in it, and yet had a chamber within it +which had a bed, whither we withdrew for the rest of the night; and, in +short, after some time being together, he went to bed, and lay there +all night. I withdrew, but came again undressed in the morning, before +it was day, and lay with him the rest of the time. + +Thus, you see, having committed a crime once is a sad handle to the +committing of it again; whereas all the regret and reflections wear off +when the temptation renews itself. Had I not yielded to see him again, +the corrupt desire in him had worn off, and ’tis very probable he had +never fallen into it with anybody else, as I really believe he had not +done before. + +When he went away, I told him I hoped he was satisfied he had not been +robbed again. He told me he was satisfied in that point, and could +trust me again, and putting his hand in his pocket, gave me five +guineas, which was the first money I had gained that way for many +years. + +I had several visits of the like kind from him, but he never came into +a settled way of maintenance, which was what I would have best pleased +with. Once, indeed, he asked me how I did to live. I answered him +pretty quick, that I assured him I had never taken that course that I +took with him, but that indeed I worked at my needle, and could just +maintain myself; that sometime it was as much as I was able to do, and +I shifted hard enough. + +He seemed to reflect upon himself that he should be the first person to +lead me into that, which he assured me he never intended to do himself; +and it touched him a little, he said, that he should be the cause of +his own sin and mine too. He would often make just reflections also +upon the crime itself, and upon the particular circumstances of it with +respect to himself; how wine introduced the inclinations, how the devil +led him to the place, and found out an object to tempt him, and he made +the moral always himself. + +When these thoughts were upon him he would go away, and perhaps not +come again in a month’s time or longer; but then as the serious part +wore off, the lewd part would wear in, and then he came prepared for +the wicked part. Thus we lived for some time; though he did not keep, +as they call it, yet he never failed doing things that were handsome, +and sufficient to maintain me without working, and, which was better, +without following my old trade. + +But this affair had its end too; for after about a year, I found that +he did not come so often as usual, and at last he left if off +altogether without any dislike to bidding adieu; and so there was an +end of that short scene of life, which added no great store to me, only +to make more work for repentance. + +However, during this interval I confined myself pretty much at home; at +least, being thus provided for, I made no adventures, no, not for a +quarter of a year after he left me; but then finding the fund fail, and +being loth to spend upon the main stock, I began to think of my old +trade, and to look abroad into the street again; and my first step was +lucky enough. + +I had dressed myself up in a very mean habit, for as I had several +shapes to appear in, I was now in an ordinary stuff-gown, a blue apron, +and a straw hat and I placed myself at the door of the Three Cups Inn +in St. John Street. There were several carriers used the inn, and the +stage-coaches for Barnet, for Totteridge, and other towns that way +stood always in the street in the evening, when they prepared to set +out, so that I was ready for anything that offered, for either one or +other. The meaning was this; people come frequently with bundles and +small parcels to those inns, and call for such carriers or coaches as +they want, to carry them into the country; and there generally attend +women, porters’ wives or daughters, ready to take in such things for +their respective people that employ them. + +It happened very oddly that I was standing at the inn gate, and a woman +that had stood there before, and which was the porter’s wife belonging +to the Barnet stage-coach, having observed me, asked if I waited for +any of the coaches. I told her Yes, I waited for my mistress, that was +coming to go to Barnet. She asked me who was my mistress, and I told +her any madam’s name that came next me; but as it seemed, I happened +upon a name, a family of which name lived at Hadley, just beyond +Barnet. + +I said no more to her, or she to me, a good while; but by and by, +somebody calling her at a door a little way off, she desired me that if +anybody called for the Barnet coach, I would step and call her at the +house, which it seems was an alehouse. I said Yes, very readily, and +away she went. + +She was no sooner gone but comes a wench and a child, puffing and +sweating, and asks for the Barnet coach. I answered presently, “Here.” +“Do you belong to the Barnet coach?” says she. “Yes, sweetheart,” said +I; “what do ye want?” “I want room for two passengers,” says she. +“Where are they, sweetheart?” said I. “Here’s this girl, pray let her +go into the coach,” says she, “and I’ll go and fetch my mistress.” +“Make haste, then, sweetheart,” says I, “for we may be full else.” The +maid had a great bundle under her arm; so she put the child into the +coach, and I said, “You had best put your bundle into the coach too.” +“No,” says she, “I am afraid somebody should slip it away from the +child.” “Give to me, then,” said I, “and I’ll take care of it.” “Do, +then,” says she, “and be sure you take of it.” “I’ll answer for it,” +said I, “if it were for £20 value.” “There, take it, then,” says she, +and away she goes. + +As soon as I had got the bundle, and the maid was out of sight, I goes +on towards the alehouse, where the porter’s wife was, so that if I had +met her, I had then only been going to give her the bundle, and to call +her to her business, as if I was going away, and could stay no longer; +but as I did not meet her, I walked away, and turning into Charterhouse +Lane, then crossed into Bartholomew Close, so into Little Britain, and +through the Bluecoat Hospital, into Newgate Street. + +To prevent my being known, I pulled off my blue apron, and wrapped the +bundle in it, which before was made up in a piece of painted calico, +and very remarkable; I also wrapped up my straw hat in it, and so put +the bundle upon my head; and it was very well that I did thus, for +coming through the Bluecoat Hospital, who should I meet but the wench +that had given me the bundle to hold. It seems she was going with her +mistress, whom she had been gone to fetch, to the Barnet coaches. + +I saw she was in haste, and I had no business to stop her; so away she +went, and I brought my bundle safe home to my governess. There was no +money, nor plate, or jewels in the bundle, but a very good suit of +Indian damask, a gown and a petticoat, a laced-head and ruffles of very +good Flanders lace, and some linen and other things, such as I knew +very well the value of. + +This was not indeed my own invention, but was given me by one that had +practised it with success, and my governess liked it extremely; and +indeed I tried it again several times, though never twice near the same +place; for the next time I tried it in White Chapel, just by the corner +of Petticoat Lane, where the coaches stand that go out to Stratford and +Bow, and that side of the country, and another time at the Flying +Horse, without Bishopgate, where the Cheston coaches then lay; and I +had always the good luck to come off with some booty. + +Another time I placed myself at a warehouse by the waterside, where the +coasting vessels from the north come, such as from Newcastle-upon-Tyne, +Sunderland, and other places. Here, the warehouses being shut, comes a +young fellow with a letter; and he wanted a box and a hamper that was +come from Newcastle-upon-Tyne. I asked him if he had the marks of it; +so he shows me the letter, by virtue of which he was to ask for it, and +which gave an account of the contents, the box being full of linen, and +the hamper full of glass ware. I read the letter, and took care to see +the name, and the marks, the name of the person that sent the goods, +the name of the person that they were sent to; then I bade the +messenger come in the morning, for that the warehouse-keeper would not +be there any more that night. + +Away went I, and getting materials in a public house, I wrote a letter +from Mr. John Richardson of Newcastle to his dear cousin Jemmy Cole, in +London, with an account that he sent by such a vessel (for I remembered +all the particulars to a title), so many pieces of huckaback linen, so +many ells of Dutch holland and the like, in a box, and a hamper of +flint glasses from Mr. Henzill’s glasshouse; and that the box was +marked I. C. No. 1, and the hamper was directed by a label on the +cording. + +About an hour after, I came to the warehouse, found the +warehouse-keeper, and had the goods delivered me without any scruple; +the value of the linen being about £22. + +I could fill up this whole discourse with the variety of such +adventures, which daily invention directed to, and which I managed with +the utmost dexterity, and always with success. + +At length—as when does the pitcher come safe home that goes so very +often to the well?—I fell into some small broils, which though they +could not affect me fatally, yet made me known, which was the worst +thing next to being found guilty that could befall me. + +I had taken up the disguise of a widow’s dress; it was without any real +design in view, but only waiting for anything that might offer, as I +often did. It happened that while I was going along the street in +Covent Garden, there was a great cry of “Stop thief! Stop thief!” some +artists had, it seems, put a trick upon a shopkeeper, and being +pursued, some of them fled one way, and some another; and one of them +was, they said, dressed up in widow’s weeds, upon which the mob +gathered about me, and some said I was the person, others said no. +Immediately came the mercer’s journeyman, and he swore aloud I was the +person, and so seized on me. However, when I was brought back by the +mob to the mercer’s shop, the master of the house said freely that I +was not the woman that was in his shop, and would have let me go +immediately; but another fellow said gravely, “Pray stay till Mr. ——” +(meaning the journeyman) “comes back, for he knows her.” So they kept +me by force near half an hour. They had called a constable, and he +stood in the shop as my jailer; and in talking with the constable I +inquired where he lived, and what trade he was; the man not +apprehending in the least what happened afterwards, readily told me his +name, and trade, and where he lived; and told me as a jest, that I +might be sure to hear of his name when I came to the Old Bailey. + +Some of the servants likewise used me saucily, and had much ado to keep +their hands off me; the master indeed was civiller to me than they, but +he would not yet let me go, though he owned he could not say I was in +his shop before. + +I began to be a little surly with him, and told him I hoped he would +not take it ill if I made myself amends upon him in a more legal way +another time; and desired I might send for friends to see me have right +done me. No, he said, he could give no such liberty; I might ask it +when I came before the justice of peace; and seeing I threatened him, +he would take care of me in the meantime, and would lodge me safe in +Newgate. I told him it was his time now, but it would be mine by and +by, and governed my passion as well as I was able. However, I spoke to +the constable to call me a porter, which he did, and then I called for +pen, ink, and paper, but they would let me have none. I asked the +porter his name, and where he lived, and the poor man told it me very +willingly. I bade him observe and remember how I was treated there; +that he saw I was detained there by force. I told him I should want his +evidence in another place, and it should not be the worse for him to +speak. The porter said he would serve me with all his heart. “But, +madam,” says he, “let me hear them refuse to let you go, then I may be +able to speak the plainer.” + +With that I spoke aloud to the master of the shop, and said, “Sir, you +know in your own conscience that I am not the person you look for, and +that I was not in your shop before, therefore I demand that you detain +me here no longer, or tell me the reason of your stopping me.” The +fellow grew surlier upon this than before, and said he would do neither +till he thought fit. “Very well,” said I to the constable and to the +porter; “you will be pleased to remember this, gentlemen, another +time.” The porter said, “Yes, madam”; and the constable began not to +like it, and would have persuaded the mercer to dismiss him, and let me +go, since, as he said, he owned I was not the person. “Good, sir,” says +the mercer to him tauntingly, “are you a justice of peace or a +constable? I charged you with her; pray do you do your duty.” The +constable told him, a little moved, but very handsomely, “I know my +duty, and what I am, sir; I doubt you hardly know what you are doing.” +They had some other hard words, and in the meantime the journeyman, +impudent and unmanly to the last degree, used me barbarously, and one +of them, the same that first seized upon me, pretended he would search +me, and began to lay hands on me. I spit in his face, called out to the +constable, and bade him to take notice of my usage. “And pray, Mr. +Constable,” said I, “ask that villain’s name,” pointing to the man. The +constable reproved him decently, told him that he did not know what he +did, for he knew that his master acknowledged I was not the person that +was in his shop; “and,” says the constable, “I am afraid your master is +bringing himself, and me too, into trouble, if this gentlewoman comes +to prove who she is, and where she was, and it appears that she is not +the woman you pretend to.” “Damn her,” says the fellow again, with a +impudent, hardened face, “she is the lady, you may depend upon it; I’ll +swear she is the same body that was in the shop, and that I gave the +pieces of satin that is lost into her own hand. You shall hear more of +it when Mr. William and Mr. Anthony (those were other journeymen) come +back; they will know her again as well as I.” + +Just as the insolent rogue was talking thus to the constable, comes +back Mr. William and Mr. Anthony, as he called them, and a great rabble +with them, bringing along with them the true widow that I was pretended +to be; and they came sweating and blowing into the shop, and with a +great deal of triumph, dragging the poor creature in the most butcherly +manner up towards their master, who was in the back shop, and cried out +aloud, “Here’s the widow, sir; we have catched her at last.” “What do +ye mean by that?” says the master. “Why, we have her already; there she +sits,” says he, “and Mr. ——,” says he, “can swear this is she.” The +other man, whom they called Mr. Anthony, replied, “Mr. —— may say what +he will, and swear what he will, but this is the woman, and there’s the +remnant of satin she stole; I took it out of her clothes with my own +hand.” + +I sat still now, and began to take a better heart, but smiled and said +nothing; the master looked pale; the constable turned about and looked +at me. “Let ’em alone, Mr. Constable,” said I; “let “em go on.” The +case was plain and could not be denied, so the constable was charged +with the right thief, and the mercer told me very civilly he was sorry +for the mistake, and hoped I would not take it ill; that they had so +many things of this nature put upon them every day, that they could not +be blamed for being very sharp in doing themselves justice. “Not take +it ill, sir!” said I; “how can I take it well! If you had dismissed me +when your insolent fellow seized on me it the street, and brought me to +you, and when you yourself acknowledged I was not the person, I would +have put it by, and not taken it ill, because of the many ill things I +believe you have put upon you daily; but your treatment of me since has +been insufferable, and especially that of your servant; I must and will +have reparation for that.” + +Then he began to parley with me, said he would make me any reasonable +satisfaction, and would fain have had me tell him what it was I +expected. I told him that I should not be my own judge, the law should +decide it for me; and as I was to be carried before a magistrate, I +should let him hear there what I had to say. He told me there was no +occasion to go before the justice now, I was at liberty to go where I +pleased; and so, calling to the constable, told him he might let me go, +for I was discharged. The constable said calmly to him, “sir, you asked +me just now if I knew whether I was a constable or justice, and bade me +do my duty, and charged me with this gentlewoman as a prisoner. Now, +sir, I find you do not understand what is my duty, for you would make +me a justice indeed; but I must tell you it is not in my power. I may +keep a prisoner when I am charged with him, but ’tis the law and the +magistrate alone that can discharge that prisoner; therefore ’tis a +mistake, sir; I must carry her before a justice now, whether you think +well of it or not.” The mercer was very high with the constable at +first; but the constable happening to be not a hired officer, but a +good, substantial kind of man (I think he was a corn-handler), and a +man of good sense, stood to his business, would not discharge me +without going to a justice of the peace; and I insisted upon it too. +When the mercer saw that, “Well,” says he to the constable, “you may +carry her where you please; I have nothing to say to her.” “But, sir,” +says the constable, “you will go with us, I hope, for ’tis you that +charged me with her.” “No, not I,” says the mercer; “I tell you I have +nothing to say to her.” “But pray, sir, do,” says the constable; “I +desire it of you for your own sake, for the justice can do nothing +without you.” “Prithee, fellow,” says the mercer, “go about your +business; I tell you I have nothing to say to the gentlewoman. I charge +you in the king’s name to dismiss her.” “Sir,” says the constable, “I +find you don’t know what it is to be constable; I beg of you don’t +oblige me to be rude to you.” “I think I need not; you are rude enough +already,” says the mercer. “No, sir,” says the constable, “I am not +rude; you have broken the peace in bringing an honest woman out of the +street, when she was about her lawful occasion, confining her in your +shop, and ill-using her here by your servants; and now can you say I am +rude to you? I think I am civil to you in not commanding or charging +you in the king’s name to go with me, and charging every man I see that +passes your door to aid and assist me in carrying you by force; this +you cannot but know I have power to do, and yet I forbear it, and once +more entreat you to go with me.” Well, he would not for all this, and +gave the constable ill language. However, the constable kept his +temper, and would not be provoked; and then I put in and said, “Come, +Mr. Constable, let him alone; I shall find ways enough to fetch him +before a magistrate, I don’t fear that; but there’s the fellow,” says +I, “he was the man that seized on me as I was innocently going along +the street, and you are a witness of the violence with me since; give +me leave to charge you with him, and carry him before the justice.” +“Yes, madam,” says the constable; and turning to the fellow “Come, +young gentleman,” says he to the journeyman, “you must go along with +us; I hope you are not above the constable’s power, though your master +is.” + +The fellow looked like a condemned thief, and hung back, then looked at +his master, as if he could help him; and he, like a fool, encourage the +fellow to be rude, and he truly resisted the constable, and pushed him +back with a good force when he went to lay hold on him, at which the +constable knocked him down, and called out for help; and immediately +the shop was filled with people, and the constable seized the master +and man, and all his servants. + +This first ill consequence of this fray was, that the woman they had +taken, who was really the thief, made off, and got clear away in the +crowd; and two other that they had stopped also; whether they were +really guilty or not, that I can say nothing to. + +By this time some of his neighbours having come in, and, upon inquiry, +seeing how things went, had endeavoured to bring the hot-brained mercer +to his senses, and he began to be convinced that he was in the wrong; +and so at length we went all very quietly before the justice, with a +mob of about five hundred people at our heels; and all the way I went I +could hear the people ask what was the matter, and other reply and say, +a mercer had stopped a gentlewoman instead of a thief, and had +afterwards taken the thief, and now the gentlewoman had taken the +mercer, and was carrying him before the justice. This pleased the +people strangely, and made the crowd increase, and they cried out as +they went, “Which is the rogue? which is the mercer?” and especially +the women. Then when they saw him they cried out, “That’s he, that’s +he”; and every now and then came a good dab of dirt at him; and thus we +marched a good while, till the mercer thought fit to desire the +constable to call a coach to protect himself from the rabble; so we +rode the rest of the way, the constable and I, and the mercer and his +man. + +When we came to the justice, which was an ancient gentleman in +Bloomsbury, the constable giving first a summary account of the matter, +the justice bade me speak, and tell what I had to say. And first he +asked my name, which I was very loth to give, but there was no remedy, +so I told him my name was Mary Flanders, that I was a widow, my husband +being a sea captain, died on a voyage to Virginia; and some other +circumstances I told which he could never contradict, and that I lodged +at present in town with such a person, naming my governess; but that I +was preparing to go over to America, where my husband’s effects lay, +and that I was going that day to buy some clothes to put myself into +second mourning, but had not yet been in any shop, when that fellow, +pointing to the mercer’s journeyman, came rushing upon me with such +fury as very much frighted me, and carried me back to his master’s +shop, where, though his master acknowledged I was not the person, yet +he would not dismiss me, but charged a constable with me. + +Then I proceeded to tell how the journeyman treated me; how they would +not suffer me to send for any of my friends; how afterwards they found +the real thief, and took the very goods they had lost upon her, and all +the particulars as before. + +Then the constable related his case: his dialogue with the mercer about +discharging me, and at last his servant’s refusing to go with him, when +he had charged him with him, and his master encouraging him to do so, +and at last his striking the constable, and the like, all as I have +told it already. + +The justice then heard the mercer and his man. The mercer indeed made a +long harangue of the great loss they have daily by lifters and thieves; +that it was easy for them to mistake, and that when he found it he +would have dismissed me, etc., as above. As to the journeyman, he had +very little to say, but that he pretended other of the servants told +him that I was really the person. + +Upon the whole, the justice first of all told me very courteously I was +discharged; that he was very sorry that the mercer’s man should in his +eager pursuit have so little discretion as to take up an innocent +person for a guilty person; that if he had not been so unjust as to +detain me afterward, he believed I would have forgiven the first +affront; that, however, it was not in his power to award me any +reparation for anything, other than by openly reproving them, which he +should do; but he supposed I would apply to such methods as the law +directed; in the meantime he would bind him over. + +But as to the breach of the peace committed by the journeyman, he told +me he should give me some satisfaction for that, for he should commit +him to Newgate for assaulting the constable, and for assaulting me +also. + +Accordingly he sent the fellow to Newgate for that assault, and his +master gave bail, and so we came away; but I had the satisfaction of +seeing the mob wait upon them both, as they came out, hallooing and +throwing stones and dirt at the coaches they rode in; and so I came +home to my governess. + +After this hustle, coming home and telling my governess the story, she +falls a-laughing at me. “Why are you merry?” says I; “the story has not +so much laughing room in it as you imagine; I am sure I have had a +great deal of hurry and fright too, with a pack of ugly rogues.” +“Laugh!” says my governess; “I laugh, child, to see what a lucky +creature you are; why, this job will be the best bargain to you that +ever you made in your life, if you manage it well. I warrant you,” says +she, “you shall make the mercer pay you £500 for damages, besides what +you shall get out of the journeyman.” + +I had other thoughts of the matter than she had; and especially, +because I had given in my name to the justice of peace; and I knew that +my name was so well known among the people at Hick’s Hall, the Old +Bailey, and such places, that if this cause came to be tried openly, +and my name came to be inquired into, no court would give much damages, +for the reputation of a person of such a character. However, I was +obliged to begin a prosecution in form, and accordingly my governess +found me out a very creditable sort of a man to manage it, being an +attorney of very good business, and of a good reputation, and she was +certainly in the right of this; for had she employed a pettifogging +hedge solicitor, or a man not known, and not in good reputation, I +should have brought it to but little. + +I met this attorney, and gave him all the particulars at large, as they +are recited above; and he assured me it was a case, as he said, that +would very well support itself, and that he did not question but that a +jury would give very considerable damages on such an occasion; so +taking his full instructions he began the prosecution, and the mercer +being arrested, gave bail. A few days after his giving bail, he comes +with his attorney to my attorney, to let him know that he desired to +accommodate the matter; that it was all carried on in the heat of an +unhappy passion; that his client, meaning me, had a sharp provoking +tongue, that I used them ill, gibing at them, and jeering them, even +while they believed me to be the very person, and that I had provoked +them, and the like. + +My attorney managed as well on my side; made them believe I was a widow +of fortune, that I was able to do myself justice, and had great friends +to stand by me too, who had all made me promise to sue to the utmost, +and that if it cost me a thousand pounds I would be sure to have +satisfaction, for that the affronts I had received were insufferable. + +However, they brought my attorney to this, that he promised he would +not blow the coals, that if I inclined to accommodation, he would not +hinder me, and that he would rather persuade me to peace than to war; +for which they told him he should be no loser; all which he told me +very honestly, and told me that if they offered him any bribe, I should +certainly know it; but upon the whole he told me very honestly that if +I would take his opinion, he would advise me to make it up with them, +for that as they were in a great fright, and were desirous above all +things to make it up, and knew that, let it be what it would, they +would be allotted to bear all the costs of the suit; he believed they +would give me freely more than any jury or court of justice would give +upon a trial. I asked him what he thought they would be brought to. He +told me he could not tell as to that, but he would tell me more when I +saw him again. + +Some time after this, they came again to know if he had talked with me. +He told them he had; that he found me not so averse to an accommodation +as some of my friends were, who resented the disgrace offered me, and +set me on; that they blowed the coals in secret, prompting me to +revenge, or do myself justice, as they called it; so that he could not +tell what to say to it; he told them he would do his endeavour to +persuade me, but he ought to be able to tell me what proposal they +made. They pretended they could not make any proposal, because it might +be made use of against them; and he told them, that by the same rule he +could not make any offers, for that might be pleaded in abatement of +what damages a jury might be inclined to give. However, after some +discourse and mutual promises that no advantage should be taken on +either side, by what was transacted then or at any other of those +meetings, they came to a kind of a treaty; but so remote, and so wide +from one another, that nothing could be expected from it; for my +attorney demanded £500 and charges, and they offered £50 without +charges; so they broke off, and the mercer proposed to have a meeting +with me myself; and my attorney agreed to that very readily. + +My attorney gave me notice to come to this meeting in good clothes, and +with some state, that the mercer might see I was something more than I +seemed to be that time they had me. Accordingly I came in a new suit of +second mourning, according to what I had said at the justice’s. I set +myself out, too, as well as a widow’s dress in second mourning would +admit; my governess also furnished me with a good pearl necklace, that +shut in behind with a locket of diamonds, which she had in pawn; and I +had a very good figure; and as I stayed till I was sure they were come, +I came in a coach to the door, with my maid with me. + +When I came into the room the mercer was surprised. He stood up and +made his bow, which I took a little notice of, and but a little, and +went and sat down where my own attorney had pointed to me to sit, for +it was his house. After a little while the mercer said, he did not know +me again, and began to make some compliments his way. I told him, I +believed he did not know me at first, and that if he had, I believed he +would not have treated me as he did. + +He told me he was very sorry for what had happened, and that it was to +testify the willingness he had to make all possible reparation that he +had appointed this meeting; that he hoped I would not carry things to +extremity, which might be not only too great a loss to him, but might +be the ruin of his business and shop, in which case I might have the +satisfaction of repaying an injury with an injury ten times greater; +but that I would then get nothing, whereas he was willing to do me any +justice that was in his power, without putting himself or me to the +trouble or charge of a suit at law. + +I told him I was glad to hear him talk so much more like a man of sense +than he did before; that it was true, acknowledgment in most cases of +affronts was counted reparation sufficient; but this had gone too far +to be made up so; that I was not revengeful, nor did I seek his ruin, +or any man’s else, but that all my friends were unanimous not to let me +so far neglect my character as to adjust a thing of this kind without a +sufficient reparation of honour; that to be taken up for a thief was +such an indignity as could not be put up; that my character was above +being treated so by any that knew me, but because in my condition of a +widow I had been for some time careless of myself, and negligent of +myself, I might be taken for such a creature, but that for the +particular usage I had from him afterwards,—and then I repeated all as +before; it was so provoking I had scarce patience to repeat it. + +Well, he acknowledged all, and was might humble indeed; he made +proposals very handsome; he came up to £100 and to pay all the law +charges, and added that he would make me a present of a very good suit +of clothes. I came down to £300, and I demanded that I should publish +an advertisement of the particulars in the common newspapers. + +This was a clause he never could comply with. However, at last he came +up, by good management of my attorney, to £150 and a suit of black silk +clothes; and there I agree, and as it were, at my attorney’s request, +complied with it, he paying my attorney’s bill and charges, and gave us +a good supper into the bargain. + +When I came to receive the money, I brought my governess with me, +dressed like an old duchess, and a gentleman very well dressed, who we +pretended courted me, but I called him cousin, and the lawyer was only +to hint privately to him that his gentleman courted the widow. + +He treated us handsomely indeed, and paid the money cheerfully enough; +so that it cost him £200 in all, or rather more. At our last meeting, +when all was agreed, the case of the journeyman came up, and the mercer +begged very hard for him; told me he was a man that had kept a shop of +his own, and been in good business, had a wife, and several children, +and was very poor; that he had nothing to make satisfaction with, but +he should come to beg my pardon on his knees, if I desired it, as +openly as I pleased. I had no spleen at the saucy rogue, nor were his +submissions anything to me, since there was nothing to be got by him, +so I thought it was as good to throw that in generously as not; so I +told him I did not desire the ruin of any man, and therefore at his +request I would forgive the wretch; it was below me to seek any +revenge. + +When we were at supper he brought the poor fellow in to make +acknowledgment, which he would have done with as much mean humility as +his offence was with insulting haughtiness and pride, in which he was +an instance of a complete baseness of spirit, impious, cruel, and +relentless when uppermost and in prosperity, abject and low-spirited +when down in affliction. However, I abated his cringes, told him I +forgave him, and desired he might withdraw, as if I did not care for +the sight of him, though I had forgiven him. + +I was now in good circumstances indeed, if I could have known my time +for leaving off, and my governess often said I was the richest of the +trade in England; and so I believe I was, for I had £700 by me in +money, besides clothes, rings, some plate, and two gold watches, and +all of them stolen, for I had innumerable jobs besides these I have +mentioned. Oh! had I even now had the grace of repentance, I had still +leisure to have looked back upon my follies, and have made some +reparation; but the satisfaction I was to make for the public mischiefs +I had done was yet left behind; and I could not forbear going abroad +again, as I called it now, than any more I could when my extremity +really drove me out for bread. + +It was not long after the affair with the mercer was made up, that I +went out in an equipage quite different from any I had ever appeared in +before. I dressed myself like a beggar woman, in the coarsest and most +despicable rags I could get, and I walked about peering and peeping +into every door and window I came near; and indeed I was in such a +plight now that I knew as ill how to behave in as ever I did in any. I +naturally abhorred dirt and rags; I had been bred up tight and cleanly, +and could be no other, whatever condition I was in; so that this was +the most uneasy disguise to me that ever I put on. I said presently to +myself that this would not do, for this was a dress that everybody was +shy and afraid of; and I thought everybody looked at me, as if they +were afraid I should come near them, lest I should take something from +them, or afraid to come near me, lest they should get something from +me. I wandered about all the evening the first time I went out, and +made nothing of it, but came home again wet, draggled, and tired. +However, I went out again the next night, and then I met with a little +adventure, which had like to have cost me dear. As I was standing near +a tavern door, there comes a gentleman on horseback, and lights at the +door, and wanting to go into the tavern, he calls one of the drawers to +hold his horse. He stayed pretty long in the tavern, and the drawer +heard his master call, and thought he would be angry with him. Seeing +me stand by him, he called to me, “Here, woman,” says he, “hold this +horse a while, till I go in; if the gentleman comes, he’ll give you +something.” “Yes,” says I, and takes the horse, and walks off with him +very soberly, and carried him to my governess. + +This had been a booty to those that had understood it; but never was +poor thief more at a loss to know what to do with anything that was +stolen; for when I came home, my governess was quite confounded, and +what to do with the creature, we neither of us knew. To send him to a +stable was doing nothing, for it was certain that public notice would +be given in the _Gazette_, and the horse described, so that we durst +not go to fetch it again. + +All the remedy we had for this unlucky adventure was to go and set up +the horse at an inn, and send a note by a porter to the tavern, that +the gentleman’s horse that was lost such a time was left at such an +inn, and that he might be had there; that the poor woman that held him, +having led him about the street, not being able to lead him back again, +had left him there. We might have waited till the owner had published +and offered a reward, but we did not care to venture the receiving the +reward. + +So this was a robbery and no robbery, for little was lost by it, and +nothing was got by it, and I was quite sick of going out in a beggar’s +dress; it did not answer at all, and besides, I thought it was ominous +and threatening. + +While I was in this disguise, I fell in with a parcel of folks of a +worse kind than any I ever sorted with, and I saw a little into their +ways too. These were coiners of money, and they made some very good +offers to me, as to profit; but the part they would have had me have +embarked in was the most dangerous part. I mean that of the very +working the die, as they call it, which, had I been taken, had been +certain death, and that at a stake—I say, to be burnt to death at a +stake; so that though I was to appearance but a beggar, and they +promised mountains of gold and silver to me to engage, yet it would not +do. It is true, if I had been really a beggar, or had been desperate as +when I began, I might perhaps have closed with it; for what care they +to die that can’t tell how to live? But at present this was not my +condition, at least I was for no such terrible risks as those; besides, +the very thoughts of being burnt at a stake struck terror into my very +soul, chilled my blood, and gave me the vapours to such a degree, as I +could not think of it without trembling. + +This put an end to my disguise too, for as I did not like the proposal, +so I did not tell them so, but seemed to relish it, and promised to +meet again. But I durst see them no more; for if I had seen them, and +not complied, though I had declined it with the greatest assurance of +secrecy in the world, they would have gone near to have murdered me, to +make sure work, and make themselves easy, as they call it. What kind of +easiness that is, they may best judge that understand how easy men are +that can murder people to prevent danger. + +This and horse-stealing were things quite out of my way, and I might +easily resolve I would have no more to say to them; my business seemed +to lie another way, and though it had hazard enough in it too, yet it +was more suitable to me, and what had more of art in it, and more room +to escape, and more chances for a-coming off if a surprise should +happen. + +I had several proposals made also to me about that time, to come into a +gang of house-breakers; but that was a thing I had no mind to venture +at neither, any more than I had at the coining trade. I offered to go +along with two men and a woman, that made it their business to get into +houses by stratagem, and with them I was willing enough to venture. But +there were three of them already, and they did not care to part, nor I +to have too many in a gang, so I did not close with them, but declined +them, and they paid dear for their next attempt. + +But at length I met with a woman that had often told me what adventures +she had made, and with success, at the waterside, and I closed with +her, and we drove on our business pretty well. One day we came among +some Dutch people at St. Catherine’s, where we went on pretence to buy +goods that were privately got on shore. I was two or three times in a +house where we saw a good quantity of prohibited goods, and my +companion once brought away three pieces of Dutch black silk that +turned to good account, and I had my share of it; but in all the +journeys I made by myself, I could not get an opportunity to do +anything, so I laid it aside, for I had been so often, that they began +to suspect something, and were so shy, that I saw nothing was to be +done. + +This baulked me a little, and I resolved to push at something or other, +for I was not used to come back so often without purchase; so the next +day I dressed myself up fine, and took a walk to the other end of the +town. I passed through the Exchange in the Strand, but had no notion of +finding anything to do there, when on a sudden I saw a great cluttering +in the place, and all the people, shopkeepers as well as others, +standing up and staring; and what should it be but some great duchess +come into the Exchange, and they said the queen was coming. I set +myself close up to a shop-side with my back to the counter, as if to +let the crowd pass by, when keeping my eye upon a parcel of lace which +the shopkeeper was showing to some ladies that stood by me, the +shopkeeper and her maid were so taken up with looking to see who was +coming, and what shop they would go to, that I found means to slip a +paper of lace into my pocket and come clear off with it; so the +lady-milliner paid dear enough for her gaping after the queen. + +I went off from the shop, as if driven along by the throng, and +mingling myself with the crowd, went out at the other door of the +Exchange, and so got away before they missed their lace; and because I +would not be followed, I called a coach and shut myself up in it. I had +scarce shut the coach doors up, but I saw the milliner’s maid and five +or six more come running out into the street, and crying out as if they +were frightened. They did not cry “Stop thief!” because nobody ran +away, but I could hear the word “robbed,” and “lace,” two or three +times, and saw the wench wringing her hands, and run staring to and +again, like one scared. The coachman that had taken me up was getting +up into the box, but was not quite up, so that the horse had not begun +to move; so that I was terrible uneasy, and I took the packet of lace +and laid it ready to have dropped it out at the flap of the coach, +which opens before, just behind the coachman; but to my great +satisfaction, in less than a minute the coach began to move, that is to +say, as soon as the coachman had got up and spoken to his horses; so he +drove away without any interruption, and I brought off my purchase, +which was worth near £20. + +The next day I dressed up again, but in quite different clothes, and +walked the same way again, but nothing offered till I came into St. +James’s Park, where I saw abundance of fine ladies in the Park, walking +in the Mall, and among the rest there was a little miss, a young lady +of about twelve or thirteen years old, and she had a sister, as I +suppose it was, with her, that might be about nine years old. I +observed the biggest had a fine gold watch on, and a good necklace of +pearl, and they had a footman in livery with them; but as it is not +usual for the footman to go behind the ladies in the Mall, so I +observed the footman stopped at their going into the Mall, and the +biggest of the sisters spoke to him, which I perceived was to bid him +be just there when they came back. + +When I heard her dismiss the footman, I stepped up to him and asked +him, what little lady that was? and held a little chat with him about +what a pretty child it was with her, and how genteel and well-carriaged +the lady, the eldest, would be: how womanish, and how grave; and the +fool of a fellow told me presently who she was; that she was Sir Thomas +——’s eldest daughter, of Essex, and that she was a great fortune; that +her mother was not come to town yet; but she was with Sir William ——’s +lady, of Suffolk, at her lodging in Suffolk Street, and a great deal +more; that they had a maid and a woman to wait on them, besides Sir +Thomas’s coach, the coachman, and himself; and that young lady was +governess to the whole family, as well here as at home too; and, in +short, told me abundance of things enough for my business. + +I was very well dressed, and had my gold watch as well as she; so I +left the footman, and I puts myself in a rank with this young lady, +having stayed till she had taken one double turn in the Mall, and was +going forward again; by and by I saluted her by her name, with the +title of Lady Betty. I asked her when she heard from her father; when +my lady her mother would be in town, and how she did. + +I talked so familiarly to her of her whole family that she could not +suspect but that I knew them all intimately. I asked her why she would +come abroad without Mrs. Chime with her (that was the name of her +woman) to take of Mrs. Judith, that was her sister. Then I entered into +a long chat with her about her sister, what a fine little lady she was, +and asked her if she had learned French, and a thousand such little +things to entertain her, when on a sudden we saw the guards come, and +the crowd ran to see the king go by to the Parliament House. + +The ladies ran all to the side of the Mall, and I helped my lady to +stand upon the edge of the boards on the side of the Mall, that she +might be high enough to see; and took the little one and lifted her +quite up; during which, I took care to convey the gold watch so clean +away from the Lady Betty, that she never felt it, nor missed it, till +all the crowd was gone, and she was gotten into the middle of the Mall +among the other ladies. + +I took my leave of her in the very crowd, and said to her, as if in +haste, “Dear Lady Betty, take care of your little sister.” And so the +crowd did as it were thrust me away from her, and that I was obliged +unwillingly to take my leave. + +The hurry in such cases is immediately over, and the place clear as +soon as the king is gone by; but as there is always a great running and +clutter just as the king passes, so having dropped the two little +ladies, and done my business with them without any miscarriage, I kept +hurrying on among the crowd, as if I ran to see the king, and so I got +before the crowd and kept so till I came to the end of the Mall, when +the king going on towards the Horse Guards, I went forward to the +passage, which went then through against the lower end of the +Haymarket, and there I bestowed a coach upon myself, and made off, and +I confess I have not yet been so good as my word, viz. to go and visit +my Lady Betty. + +I was once of the mind to venture staying with Lady Betty till she +missed the watch, and so have made a great outcry about it with her, +and have got her into the coach, and put myself in the coach with her, +and have gone home with her; for she appeared so fond of me, and so +perfectly deceived by my so readily talking to her of all her relations +and family, that I thought it was very easy to push the thing farther, +and to have got at least the necklace of pearl; but when I considered +that though the child would not perhaps have suspected me, other people +might, and that if I was searched I should be discovered, I thought it +was best to go off with what I had got, and be satisfied. + +I came accidentally afterwards to hear, that when the young lady missed +her watch, she made a great outcry in the Park, and sent her footman up +and down to see if he could find me out, she having described me so +perfectly that he knew presently that it was the same person that had +stood and talked so long with him, and asked him so many questions +about them; but I gone far enough out of their reach before she could +come at her footman to tell him the story. + +I made another adventure after this, of a nature different from all I +had been concerned in yet, and this was at a gaming-house near Covent +Garden. + +I saw several people go in and out; and I stood in the passage a good +while with another woman with me, and seeing a gentleman go up that +seemed to be of more than ordinary fashion, I said to him, “Sir, pray +don’t they give women leave to go up?” “Yes, madam,” says he, “and to +play too, if they please.” “I mean so, sir,” said I. And with that he +said he would introduce me if I had a mind; so I followed him to the +door, and he looking in, “There, madam,” says he, “are the gamesters, +if you have a mind to venture.” I looked in and said to my comrade +aloud, “Here’s nothing but men; I won’t venture among them.” At which +one of the gentlemen cried out, “You need not be afraid, madam, here’s +none but fair gamesters; you are very welcome to come and set what you +please.” So I went a little nearer and looked on, and some of them +brought me a chair, and I sat down and saw the box and dice go round +apace; then I said to my comrade, “The gentlemen play too high for us; +come, let us go.” + +The people were all very civil, and one gentleman in particular +encouraged me, and said, “Come, madam, if you please to venture, if you +dare trust me, I’ll answer for it you shall have nothing put upon you +here.” “No, sir,” said I, smiling, “I hope the gentlemen would not +cheat a woman.” But still I declined venturing, though I pulled out a +purse with money in it, that they might see I did not want money. + +After I had sat a while, one gentleman said to me, jeering, “Come, +madam, I see you are afraid to venture for yourself; I always had good +luck with the ladies, you shall set for me, if you won’t set for +yourself.” I told him, “Sir, I should be very loth to lose your money,” +though I added, “I am pretty lucky too; but the gentlemen play so high, +that I dare not indeed venture my own.” + +“Well, well,” says he, “there’s ten guineas, madam; set them for me.” +So I took his money and set, himself looking on. I ran out nine of the +guineas by one and two at a time, and then the box coming to the next +man to me, my gentleman gave me ten guineas more, and made me set five +of them at once, and the gentleman who had the box threw out, so there +was five guineas of his money again. He was encouraged at this, and +made me take the box, which was a bold venture. However, I held the box +so long that I had gained him his whole money, and had a good handful +of guineas in my lap, and which was the better luck, when I threw out, +I threw but at one or two of those that had set me, and so went off +easy. + +When I was come this length, I offered the gentleman all the gold, for +it was his own; and so would have had him play for himself, pretending +I did not understand the game well enough. He laughed, and said if I +had but good luck, it was no matter whether I understood the game or +no; but I should not leave off. However, he took out the fifteen +guineas that he had put in at first, and bade me play with the rest. I +would have told them to see how much I had got, but he said, “No, no, +don’t tell them, I believe you are very honest, and ’tis bad luck to +tell them”; so I played on. + +I understood the game well enough, though I pretended I did not, and +played cautiously. It was to keep a good stock in my lap, out of which +I every now and then conveyed some into my pocket, but in such a +manner, and at such convenient times, as I was sure he could not see +it. + +I played a great while, and had very good luck for him; but the last +time I held the box, they set me high, and I threw boldly at all; I +held the box till I gained near fourscore guineas, but lost above half +of it back in the last throw; so I got up, for I was afraid I should +lose it all back again, and said to him, “Pray come, sir, now, and take +it and play for yourself; I think I have done pretty well for you.” He +would have had me play on, but it grew late, and I desired to be +excused. When I gave it up to him, I told him I hoped he would give me +leave to tell it now, that I might see what I had gained, and how lucky +I had been for him; when I told them, there were threescore and three +guineas. “Ay,” says I, “if it had not been for that unlucky throw, I +had got you a hundred guineas.” So I gave him all the money, but he +would not take it till I had put my hand into it, and taken some for +myself, and bid me please myself. I refused it, and was positive I +would not take it myself; if he had a mind to anything of that kind, it +should be all his own doings. + +The rest of the gentlemen seeing us striving cried, “Give it her all”; +but I absolutely refused that. Then one of them said, “D—n ye, Jack, +halve it with her; don’t you know you should be always upon even terms +with the ladies.” So, in short, he divided it with me, and I brought +away thirty guineas, besides about forty-three which I had stole +privately, which I was sorry for afterward, because he was so generous. + +Thus I brought home seventy-three guineas, and let my old governess see +what good luck I had at play. However, it was her advice that I should +not venture again, and I took her counsel, for I never went there any +more; for I knew as well as she, if the itch of play came in, I might +soon lose that, and all the rest of what I had got. + +Fortune had smiled upon me to that degree, and I had thriven so much, +and my governess too, for she always had a share with me, that really +the old gentlewoman began to talk of leaving off while we were well, +and being satisfied with what we had got; but, I know not what fate +guided me, I was as backward to it now as she was when I proposed it to +her before, and so in an ill hour we gave over the thoughts of it for +the present, and, in a word, I grew more hardened and audacious than +ever, and the success I had made my name as famous as any thief of my +sort ever had been at Newgate, and in the Old Bailey. + +I had sometime taken the liberty to play the same game over again, +which is not according to practice, which however succeeded not amiss; +but generally I took up new figures, and contrived to appear in new +shapes every time I went abroad. + +It was not a rumbling time of the year, and the gentlemen being most of +them gone out of town, Tunbridge, and Epsom, and such places were full +of people. But the city was thin, and I thought our trade felt it a +little, as well as other; so that at the latter end of the year I +joined myself with a gang who usually go every year to Stourbridge +Fair, and from thence to Bury Fair, in Suffolk. We promised ourselves +great things there, but when I came to see how things were, I was weary +of it presently; for except mere picking of pockets, there was little +worth meddling with; neither, if a booty had been made, was it so easy +carrying it off, nor was there such a variety of occasion for business +in our way, as in London; all that I made of the whole journey was a +gold watch at Bury Fair, and a small parcel of linen at Cambridge, +which gave me an occasion to take leave of the place. It was on old +bite, and I thought might do with a country shopkeeper, though in +London it would not. + +I bought at a linen-draper’s shop, not in the fair, but in the town of +Cambridge, as much fine holland and other things as came to about seven +pounds; when I had done, I bade them be sent to such an inn, where I +had purposely taken up my being the same morning, as if I was to lodge +there that night. + +I ordered the draper to send them home to me, about such an hour, to +the inn where I lay, and I would pay him his money. At the time +appointed the draper sends the goods, and I placed one of our gang at +the chamber door, and when the innkeeper’s maid brought the messenger +to the door, who was a young fellow, an apprentice, almost a man, she +tells him her mistress was asleep, but if he would leave the things and +call in about an hour, I should be awake, and he might have the money. +He left the parcel very readily, and goes his way, and in about half an +hour my maid and I walked off, and that very evening I hired a horse, +and a man to ride before me, and went to Newmarket, and from thence got +my passage in a coach that was not quite full to St. Edmund’s Bury, +where, as I told you, I could make but little of my trade, only at a +little country opera-house made a shift to carry off a gold watch from +a lady’s side, who was not only intolerably merry, but, as I thought, a +little fuddled, which made my work much easier. + +I made off with this little booty to Ipswich, and from thence to +Harwich, where I went into an inn, as if I had newly arrived from +Holland, not doubting but I should make some purchase among the +foreigners that came on shore there; but I found them generally empty +of things of value, except what was in their portmanteaux and Dutch +hampers, which were generally guarded by footmen; however, I fairly got +one of their portmanteaux one evening out of the chamber where the +gentleman lay, the footman being fast asleep on the bed, and I suppose +very drunk. + +The room in which I lodged lay next to the Dutchman’s, and having +dragged the heavy thing with much ado out of the chamber into mine, I +went out into the street, to see if I could find any possibility of +carrying it off. I walked about a great while, but could see no +probability either of getting out the thing, or of conveying away the +goods that were in it if I had opened it, the town being so small, and +I a perfect stranger in it; so I was returning with a resolution to +carry it back again, and leave it where I found it. Just in that very +moment I heard a man make a noise to some people to make haste, for the +boat was going to put off, and the tide would be spent. I called to the +fellow, “What boat is it, friend,” says I, “that you belong to?” “The +Ipswich wherry, madam,” says he. “When do you go off?” says I. “This +moment, madam,” says he; “do you want to go thither?” “Yes,” said I, +“if you can stay till I fetch my things.” “Where are your things, +madam?” says he. “At such an inn,” said I. “Well, I’ll go with you, +madam,” says he, very civilly, “and bring them for you.” “Come away, +then,” says I, and takes him with me. + +The people of the inn were in a great hurry, the packet-boat from +Holland being just come in, and two coaches just come also with +passengers from London, for another packet-boat that was going off for +Holland, which coaches were to go back next day with the passengers +that were just landed. In this hurry it was not much minded that I came +to the bar and paid my reckoning, telling my landlady I had gotten my +passage by sea in a wherry. + +These wherries are large vessels, with good accommodation for carrying +passengers from Harwich to London; and though they are called wherries, +which is a word used in the Thames for a small boat rowed with one or +two men, yet these are vessels able to carry twenty passengers, and ten +or fifteen tons of goods, and fitted to bear the sea. All this I had +found out by inquiring the night before into the several ways of going +to London. + +My landlady was very courteous, took my money for my reckoning, but was +called away, all the house being in a hurry. So I left her, took the +fellow up to my chamber, gave him the trunk, or portmanteau, for it was +like a trunk, and wrapped it about with an old apron, and he went +directly to his boat with it, and I after him, nobody asking us the +least question about it; as for the drunken Dutch footman he was still +asleep, and his master with other foreign gentlemen at supper, and very +merry below, so I went clean off with it to Ipswich; and going in the +night, the people of the house knew nothing but that I was gone to +London by the Harwich wherry, as I had told my landlady. + +I was plagued at Ipswich with the custom-house officers, who stopped my +trunk, as I called it, and would open and search it. I was willing, I +told them, they should search it, but husband had the key, and he was +not yet come from Harwich; this I said, that if upon searching it they +should find all the things be such as properly belonged to a man rather +than a woman, it should not seem strange to them. However, they being +positive to open the trunk I consented to have it be broken open, that +is to say, to have the lock taken off, which was not difficult. + +They found nothing for their turn, for the trunk had been searched +before, but they discovered several things very much to my +satisfaction, as particularly a parcel of money in French pistoles, and +some Dutch ducatoons or rix-dollars, and the rest was chiefly two +periwigs, wearing-linen, and razors, wash-balls, perfumes, and other +useful things necessary for a gentleman, which all passed for my +husband’s, and so I was quit to them. + +It was now very early in the morning, and not light, and I knew not +well what course to take; for I made no doubt but I should be pursued +in the morning, and perhaps be taken with the things about me; so I +resolved upon taking new measures. I went publicly to an inn in the +town with my trunk, as I called it, and having taken the substance out, +I did not think the lumber of it worth my concern; however, I gave it +the landlady of the house with a charge to take great care of it, and +lay it up safe till I should come again, and away I walked in to the +street. + +When I was got into the town a great way from the inn, I met with an +ancient woman who had just opened her door, and I fell into chat with +her, and asked her a great many wild questions of things all remote to +my purpose and design; but in my discourse I found by her how the town +was situated, that I was in a street that went out towards Hadley, but +that such a street went towards the water-side, such a street towards +Colchester, and so the London road lay there. + +I had soon my ends of this old woman, for I only wanted to know which +was the London road, and away I walked as fast as I could; not that I +intended to go on foot, either to London or to Colchester, but I wanted +to get quietly away from Ipswich. + +I walked about two or three miles, and then I met a plain countryman, +who was busy about some husbandry work, I did not know what, and I +asked him a great many questions first, not much to the purpose, but at +last told him I was going for London, and the coach was full, and I +could not get a passage, and asked him if he could tell me where to +hire a horse that would carry double, and an honest man to ride before +me to Colchester, that so I might get a place there in the coaches. The +honest clown looked earnestly at me, and said nothing for above half a +minute, when, scratching his poll, “A horse, say you and to Colchester, +to carry double? why yes, mistress, alack-a-day, you may have horses +enough for money.” “Well, friend,” says I, “that I take for granted; I +don’t expect it without money.” “Why, but, mistress,” says he, “how +much are you willing to give?” “Nay,” says I again, “friend, I don’t +know what your rates are in the country here, for I am a stranger; but +if you can get one for me, get it as cheap as you can, and I’ll give +you somewhat for your pains.” + +“Why, that’s honestly said too,” says the countryman. “Not so honest, +neither,” said I to myself, “if thou knewest all.” “Why, mistress,” +says he, “I have a horse that will carry double, and I don’t much care +if I go myself with you,” and the like. “Will you?” says I; “well, I +believe you are an honest man; if you will, I shall be glad of it; I’ll +pay you in reason.” “Why, look ye, mistress,” says he, “I won’t be out +of reason with you, then; if I carry you to Colchester, it will be +worth five shillings for myself and my horse, for I shall hardly come +back to-night.” + +In short, I hired the honest man and his horse; but when we came to a +town upon the road (I do not remember the name of it, but it stands +upon a river), I pretended myself very ill, and I could go no farther +that night but if he would stay there with me, because I was a +stranger, I would pay him for himself and his horse with all my heart. + +This I did because I knew the Dutch gentlemen and their servants would +be upon the road that day, either in the stagecoaches or riding post, +and I did not know but the drunken fellow, or somebody else that might +have seen me at Harwich, might see me again, and so I thought that in +one day’s stop they would be all gone by. + +We lay all that night there, and the next morning it was not very early +when I set out, so that it was near ten o’clock by the time I got to +Colchester. It was no little pleasure that I saw the town where I had +so many pleasant days, and I made many inquiries after the good old +friends I had once had there, but could make little out; they were all +dead or removed. The young ladies had been all married or gone to +London; the old gentleman and the old lady that had been my early +benefactress all dead; and which troubled me most, the young gentleman +my first lover, and afterwards my brother-in-law, was dead; but two +sons, men grown, were left of him, but they too were transplanted to +London. + +I dismissed my old man here, and stayed incognito for three or four +days in Colchester, and then took a passage in a waggon, because I +would not venture being seen in the Harwich coaches. But I needed not +have used so much caution, for there was nobody in Harwich but the +woman of the house could have known me; nor was it rational to think +that she, considering the hurry she was in, and that she never saw me +but once, and that by candlelight, should have ever discovered me. + +I was now returned to London, and though by the accident of the last +adventure I got something considerable, yet I was not fond of any more +country rambles, nor should I have ventured abroad again if I had +carried the trade on to the end of my days. I gave my governess a +history of my travels; she liked the Harwich journey well enough, and +in discoursing of these things between ourselves she observed, that a +thief being a creature that watches the advantages of other people’s +mistakes, ’tis impossible but that to one that is vigilant and +industrious many opportunities must happen, and therefore she thought +that one so exquisitely keen in the trade as I was, would scarce fail +of something extraordinary wherever I went. + +On the other hand, every branch of my story, if duly considered, may be +useful to honest people, and afford a due caution to people of some +sort or other to guard against the like surprises, and to have their +eyes about them when they have to do with strangers of any kind, for +’tis very seldom that some snare or other is not in their way. The +moral, indeed, of all my history is left to be gathered by the senses +and judgment of the reader; I am not qualified to preach to them. Let +the experience of one creature completely wicked, and completely +miserable, be a storehouse of useful warning to those that read. + +I am drawing now towards a new variety of the scenes of life. Upon my +return, being hardened by a long race of crime, and success +unparalleled, at least in the reach of my own knowledge, I had, as I +have said, no thoughts of laying down a trade which, if I was to judge +by the example of other, must, however, end at last in misery and +sorrow. + +It was on the Christmas day following, in the evening, that, to finish +a long train of wickedness, I went abroad to see what might offer in my +way; when going by a working silversmith’s in Foster Lane, I saw a +tempting bait indeed, and not be resisted by one of my occupation, for +the shop had nobody in it, as I could see, and a great deal of loose +plate lay in the window, and at the seat of the man, who usually, as I +suppose, worked at one side of the shop. + +I went boldly in, and was just going to lay my hand upon a piece of +plate, and might have done it, and carried it clear off, for any care +that the men who belonged to the shop had taken of it; but an officious +fellow in a house, not a shop, on the other side of the way, seeing me +go in, and observing that there was nobody in the shop, comes running +over the street, and into the shop, and without asking me what I was, +or who, seizes upon me, an cries out for the people of the house. + +I had not, as I said above, touched anything in the shop, and seeing a +glimpse of somebody running over to the shop, I had so much presence of +mind as to knock very hard with my foot on the floor of the house, and +was just calling out too, when the fellow laid hands on me. + +However, as I had always most courage when I was in most danger, so +when the fellow laid hands on me, I stood very high upon it, that I +came in to buy half a dozen of silver spoons; and to my good fortune, +it was a silversmith’s that sold plate, as well as worked plate for +other shops. The fellow laughed at that part, and put such a value upon +the service that he had done his neighbour, that he would have it be +that I came not to buy, but to steal; and raising a great crowd. I said +to the master of the shop, who by this time was fetched home from some +neighbouring place, that it was in vain to make noise, and enter into +talk there of the case; the fellow had insisted that I came to steal, +and he must prove it, and I desired we might go before a magistrate +without any more words; for I began to see I should be too hard for the +man that had seized me. + +The master and mistress of the shop were really not so violent as the +man from t’other side of the way; and the man said, “Mistress, you +might come into the shop with a good design for aught I know, but it +seemed a dangerous thing for you to come into such a shop as mine is, +when you see nobody there; and I cannot do justice to my neighbour, who +was so kind to me, as not to acknowledge he had reason on his side; +though, upon the whole, I do not find you attempted to take anything, +and I really know not what to do in it.” I pressed him to go before a +magistrate with me, and if anything could be proved on me that was like +a design of robbery, I should willingly submit, but if not, I expected +reparation. + +Just while we were in this debate, and a crowd of people gathered about +the door, came by Sir T. B., an alderman of the city, and justice of +the peace, and the goldsmith hearing of it, goes out, and entreated his +worship to come in and decide the case. + +Give the goldsmith his due, he told his story with a great deal of +justice and moderation, and the fellow that had come over, and seized +upon me, told his with as much heat and foolish passion, which did me +good still, rather than harm. It came then to my turn to speak, and I +told his worship that I was a stranger in London, being newly come out +of the north; that I lodged in such a place, that I was passing this +street, and went into the goldsmith’s shop to buy half a dozen of +spoons. By great luck I had an old silver spoon in my pocket, which I +pulled out, and told him I had carried that spoon to match it with half +a dozen of new ones, that it might match some I had in the country. + +That seeing nobody I the shop, I knocked with my foot very hard to make +the people hear, and had also called aloud with my voice; ’tis true, +there was loose plate in the shop, but that nobody could say I had +touched any of it, or gone near it; that a fellow came running into the +shop out of the street, and laid hands on me in a furious manner, in +the very moments while I was calling for the people of the house; that +if he had really had a mind to have done his neighbour any service, he +should have stood at a distance, and silently watched to see whether I +had touched anything or no, and then have clapped in upon me, and taken +me in the fact. “That is very true,” says Mr. Alderman, and turning to +the fellow that stopped me, he asked him if it was true that I knocked +with my foot? He said, yes, I had knocked, but that might be because of +his coming. “Nay,” says the alderman, taking him short, “now you +contradict yourself, for just now you said she was in the shop with her +back to you, and did not see you till you came upon her.” Now it was +true that my back was partly to the street, but yet as my business was +of a kind that required me to have my eyes every way, so I really had a +glance of him running over, as I said before, though he did not +perceive it. + +After a full hearing, the alderman gave it as his opinion that his +neighbour was under a mistake, and that I was innocent, and the +goldsmith acquiesced in it too, and his wife, and so I was dismissed; +but as I was going to depart, Mr. Alderman said, “But hold, madam, if +you were designing to buy spoons, I hope you will not let my friend +here lose his customer by the mistake.” I readily answered, “No, sir, +I’ll buy the spoons still, if he can match my odd spoon, which I +brought for a pattern”; and the goldsmith showed me some of the very +same fashion. So he weighed the spoons, and they came to +five-and-thirty shillings, so I pulls out my purse to pay him, in which +I had near twenty guineas, for I never went without such a sum about +me, whatever might happen, and I found it of use at other times as well +as now. + +When Mr. Alderman saw my money, he said, “Well, madam, now I am +satisfied you were wronged, and it was for this reason that I moved you +should buy the spoons, and stayed till you had bought them, for if you +had not had money to pay for them, I should have suspected that you did +not come into the shop with an intent to buy, for indeed the sort of +people who come upon these designs that you have been charged with, are +seldom troubled with much gold in their pockets, as I see you are.” + +I smiled, and told his worship, that then I owed something of his +favour to my money, but I hoped he saw reason also in the justice he +had done me before. He said, yes, he had, but this had confirmed his +opinion, and he was fully satisfied now of my having been injured. So I +came off with flying colours, though from an affair in which I was at +the very brink of destruction. + +It was but three days after this, that not at all made cautious by my +former danger, as I used to be, and still pursuing the art which I had +so long been employed in, I ventured into a house where I saw the doors +open, and furnished myself, as I though verily without being perceived, +with two pieces of flowered silks, such as they call brocaded silk, +very rich. It was not a mercer’s shop, nor a warehouse of a mercer, but +looked like a private dwelling-house, and was, it seems, inhabited by a +man that sold goods for the weavers to the mercers, like a broker or +factor. + +That I may make short of this black part of this story, I was attacked +by two wenches that came open-mouthed at me just as I was going out at +the door, and one of them pulled me back into the room, while the other +shut the door upon me. I would have given them good words, but there +was no room for it, two fiery dragons could not have been more furious +than they were; they tore my clothes, bullied and roared as if they +would have murdered me; the mistress of the house came next, and then +the master, and all outrageous, for a while especially. + +I gave the master very good words, told him the door was open, and +things were a temptation to me, that I was poor and distressed, and +poverty was when many could not resist, and begged him with tears to +have pity on me. The mistress of the house was moved with compassion, +and inclined to have let me go, and had almost persuaded her husband to +it also, but the saucy wenches were run, even before they were sent, +and had fetched a constable, and then the master said he could not go +back, I must go before a justice, and answered his wife that he might +come into trouble himself if he should let me go. + +The sight of the constable, indeed, struck me with terror, and I +thought I should have sunk into the ground. I fell into faintings, and +indeed the people themselves thought I would have died, when the woman +argued again for me, and entreated her husband, seeing they had lost +nothing, to let me go. I offered him to pay for the two pieces, +whatever the value was, though I had not got them, and argued that as +he had his goods, and had really lost nothing, it would be cruel to +pursue me to death, and have my blood for the bare attempt of taking +them. I put the constable in mind that I had broke no doors, nor +carried anything away; and when I came to the justice, and pleaded +there that I had neither broken anything to get in, nor carried +anything out, the justice was inclined to have released me; but the +first saucy jade that stopped me, affirming that I was going out with +the goods, but that she stopped me and pulled me back as I was upon the +threshold, the justice upon that point committed me, and I was carried +to Newgate. That horrid place! my very blood chills at the mention of +its name; the place where so many of my comrades had been locked up, +and from whence they went to the fatal tree; the place where my mother +suffered so deeply, where I was brought into the world, and from whence +I expected no redemption but by an infamous death: to conclude, the +place that had so long expected me, and which with so much art and +success I had so long avoided. + +I was not fixed indeed; ’tis impossible to describe the terror of my +mind, when I was first brought in, and when I looked around upon all +the horrors of that dismal place. I looked on myself as lost, and that +I had nothing to think of but of going out of the world, and that with +the utmost infamy: the hellish noise, the roaring, swearing, and +clamour, the stench and nastiness, and all the dreadful crowd of +afflicting things that I saw there, joined together to make the place +seem an emblem of hell itself, and a kind of an entrance into it. + +Now I reproached myself with the many hints I had had, as I have +mentioned above, from my own reason, from the sense of my good +circumstances, and of the many dangers I had escaped, to leave off +while I was well, and how I had withstood them all, and hardened my +thoughts against all fear. It seemed to me that I was hurried on by an +inevitable and unseen fate to this day of misery, and that now I was to +expiate all my offences at the gallows; that I was now to give +satisfaction to justice with my blood, and that I was come to the last +hour of my life and of my wickedness together. These things poured +themselves in upon my thoughts in a confused manner, and left me +overwhelmed with melancholy and despair. + +Them I repented heartily of all my life past, but that repentance +yielded me no satisfaction, no peace, no, not in the least, because, as +I said to myself, it was repenting after the power of further sinning +was taken away. I seemed not to mourn that I had committed such crimes, +and for the fact as it was an offence against God and my neighbour, but +I mourned that I was to be punished for it. I was a penitent, as I +thought, not that I had sinned, but that I was to suffer, and this took +away all the comfort, and even the hope of my repentance in my own +thoughts. + +I got no sleep for several nights or days after I came into that +wretched place, and glad I would have been for some time to have died +there, though I did not consider dying as it ought to be considered +neither; indeed, nothing could be filled with more horror to my +imagination than the very place, nothing was more odious to me than the +company that was there. Oh! if I had but been sent to any place in the +world, and not to Newgate, I should have thought myself happy. + +In the next place, how did the hardened wretches that were there before +me triumph over me! What! Mrs. Flanders come to Newgate at last? What! +Mrs. Mary, Mrs. Molly, and after that plain Moll Flanders? They thought +the devil had helped me, they said, that I had reigned so long; they +expected me there many years ago, and was I come at last? Then they +flouted me with my dejections, welcomed me to the place, wished me joy, +bid me have a good heart, not to be cast down, things might not be so +bad as I feared, and the like; then called for brandy, and drank to me, +but put it all up to my score, for they told me I was but just come to +the college, as they called it, and sure I had money in my pocket, +though they had none. + +I asked one of this crew how long she had been there. She said four +months. I asked her how the place looked to her when she first came +into it. “Just as it did now to you,” says she, “dreadful and +frightful”; that she thought she was in hell; “and I believe so still,” +adds she, “but it is natural to me now, I don’t disturb myself about +it.” “I suppose,” says I, “you are in no danger of what is to follow?” +“Nay,” says she, “for you are mistaken there, I assure you, for I am +under sentence, only I pleaded my belly, but I am no more with child +than the judge that tried me, and I expect to be called down next +sessions.” This “calling down” is calling down to their former +judgment, when a woman has been respited for her belly, but proves not +to be with child, or if she has been with child, and has been brought +to bed. “Well,” says I, “are you thus easy?” “Ay,” says she, “I can’t +help myself; what signifies being sad? If I am hanged, there’s an end +of me,” says she; and away she turns dancing, and sings as she goes the +following piece of Newgate wit— + +“If I swing by the string, +I shall hear the bell ring, +And then there’s an end of poor Jenny.” + + +I mention this because it would be worth the observation of any +prisoner, who shall hereafter fall into the same misfortune, and come +to that dreadful place of Newgate, how time, necessity, and conversing +with the wretches that are there familiarizes the place to them; how at +last they become reconciled to that which at first was the greatest +dread upon their spirits in the world, and are as impudently cheerful +and merry in their misery as they were when out of it. + +I cannot say, as some do, this devil is not so black as he is painted; +for indeed no colours can represent the place to the life, not any soul +conceive aright of it but those who have been sufferers there. But how +hell should become by degree so natural, and not only tolerable, but +even agreeable, is a thing unintelligible but by those who have +experienced it, as I have. + +The same night that I was sent to Newgate, I sent the news of it to my +old governess, who was surprised at it, you may be sure, and spent the +night almost as ill out of Newgate, as I did in it. + +The next morning she came to see me; she did what she could to comfort +me, but she saw that was to no purpose; however, as she said, to sink +under the weight was but to increase the weight; she immediately +applied herself to all the proper methods to prevent the effects of it, +which we feared, and first she found out the two fiery jades that had +surprised me. She tampered with them, offered them money, and, in a +word, tried all imaginable ways to prevent a prosecution; she offered +one of the wenches £100 to go away from her mistress, and not to appear +against me, but she was so resolute, that though she was but a servant +maid at £3 a year wages or thereabouts, she refused it, and would have +refused it, as my governess said she believed, if she had offered her +£500. Then she attacked the other maid; she was not so hard-hearted in +appearance as the other, and sometimes seemed inclined to be merciful; +but the first wench kept her up, and changed her mind, and would not so +much as let my governess talk with her, but threatened to have her up +for tampering with the evidence. + +Then she applied to the master, that is to say, the man whose goods had +been stolen, and particularly to his wife, who, as I told you, was +inclined at first to have some compassion for me; she found the woman +the same still, but the man alleged he was bound by the justice that +committed me, to prosecute, and that he should forfeit his +recognisance. + +My governess offered to find friends that should get his recognisances +off of the file, as they call it, and that he should not suffer; but it +was not possible to convince him that could be done, or that he could +be safe any way in the world but by appearing against me; so I was to +have three witnesses of fact against me, the master and his two maids; +that is to say, I was as certain to be cast for my life as I was +certain that I was alive, and I had nothing to do but to think of +dying, and prepare for it. I had but a sad foundation to build upon, as +I said before, for all my repentance appeared to me to be only the +effect of my fear of death, not a sincere regret for the wicked life +that I had lived, and which had brought this misery upon me, for the +offending my Creator, who was now suddenly to be my judge. + +I lived many days here under the utmost horror of soul; I had death, as +it were, in view, and thought of nothing night and day, but of gibbets +and halters, evil spirits and devils; it is not to be expressed by +words how I was harassed, between the dreadful apprehensions of death +and the terror of my conscience reproaching me with my past horrible +life. + +The ordinary of Newgate came to me, and talked a little in his way, but +all his divinity ran upon confessing my crime, as he called it (though +he knew not what I was in for), making a full discovery, and the like, +without which he told me God would never forgive me; and he said so +little to the purpose, that I had no manner of consolation from him; +and then to observe the poor creature preaching confession and +repentance to me in the morning, and find him drunk with brandy and +spirits by noon, this had something in it so shocking, that I began to +nauseate the man more than his work, and his work too by degrees, for +the sake of the man; so that I desired him to trouble me no more. + +I know not how it was, but by the indefatigable application of my +diligent governess I had no bill preferred against me the first +sessions, I mean to the grand jury, at Guildhall; so I had another +month or five weeks before me, and without doubt this ought to have +been accepted by me, as so much time given me for reflection upon what +was past, and preparation for what was to come; or, in a word, I ought +to have esteemed it as a space given me for repentance, and have +employed it as such, but it was not in me. I was sorry (as before) for +being in Newgate, but had very few signs of repentance about me. + +On the contrary, like the waters in the cavities and hollows of +mountains, which petrify and turn into stone whatever they are suffered +to drop on, so the continual conversing with such a crew of hell-hounds +as I was, had the same common operation upon me as upon other people. I +degenerated into stone; I turned first stupid and senseless, then +brutish and thoughtless, and at last raving mad as any of them were; +and, in short, I became as naturally pleased and easy with the place, +as if indeed I had been born there. + +It is scarce possible to imagine that our natures should be capable of +so much degeneracy, as to make that pleasant and agreeable that in +itself is the most complete misery. Here was a circumstance that I +think it is scarce possible to mention a worse: I was as exquisitely +miserable as, speaking of common cases, it was possible for any one to +be that had life and health, and money to help them, as I had. + +I had weight of guilt upon me enough to sink any creature who had the +least power of reflection left, and had any sense upon them of the +happiness of this life, of the misery of another; then I had at first +remorse indeed, but no repentance; I had now neither remorse nor +repentance. I had a crime charged on me, the punishment of which was +death by our law; the proof so evident, that there was no room for me +so much as to plead not guilty. I had the name of an old offender, so +that I had nothing to expect but death in a few weeks’ time, neither +had I myself any thoughts of escaping; and yet a certain strange +lethargy of soul possessed me. I had no trouble, no apprehensions, no +sorrow about me, the first surprise was gone; I was, I may well say, I +know not how; my senses, my reason, nay, my conscience, were all +asleep; my course of life for forty years had been a horrid +complication of wickedness, whoredom, adultery, incest, lying, theft; +and, in a word, everything but murder and treason had been my practice +from the age of eighteen, or thereabouts, to three-score; and now I was +engulfed in the misery of punishment, and had an infamous death just at +the door, and yet I had no sense of my condition, no thought of heaven +or hell at least, that went any farther than a bare flying touch, like +the stitch or pain that gives a hint and goes off. I neither had a +heart to ask God’s mercy, nor indeed to think of it. And in this, I +think, I have given a brief description of the completest misery on +earth. + +All my terrifying thoughts were past, the horrors of the place were +become familiar, and I felt no more uneasiness at the noise and +clamours of the prison, than they did who made that noise; in a word, I +was become a mere Newgate-bird, as wicked and as outrageous as any of +them; nay, I scarce retained the habit and custom of good breeding and +manners, which all along till now ran through my conversation; so +thorough a degeneracy had possessed me, that I was no more the same +thing that I had been, than if I had never been otherwise than what I +was now. + +In the middle of this hardened part of my life I had another sudden +surprise, which called me back a little to that thing called sorrow, +which indeed I began to be past the sense of before. They told me one +night that there was brought into the prison late the night before +three highwaymen, who had committed robbery somewhere on the road to +Windsor, Hounslow Heath, I think it was, and were pursued to Uxbridge +by the country, and were taken there after a gallant resistance, in +which I know not how many of the country people were wounded, and some +killed. + +It is not to be wondered that we prisoners were all desirous enough to +see these brave, topping gentlemen, that were talked up to be such as +their fellows had not been known, and especially because it was said +they would in the morning be removed into the press-yard, having given +money to the head master of the prison, to be allowed the liberty of +that better part of the prison. So we that were women placed ourselves +in the way, that we would be sure to see them; but nothing could +express the amazement and surprise I was in, when the very first man +that came out I knew to be my Lancashire husband, the same who lived so +well at Dunstable, and the same who I afterwards saw at Brickhill, when +I was married to my last husband, as has been related. + +I was struck dumb at the sight, and knew neither what to say nor what +to do; he did not know me, and that was all the present relief I had. I +quitted my company, and retired as much as that dreadful place suffers +anybody to retire, and I cried vehemently for a great while. “Dreadful +creature that I am,” said I, “how many poor people have I made +miserable? How many desperate wretches have I sent to the devil?” He +had told me at Chester he was ruined by that match, and that his +fortunes were made desperate on my account; for that thinking I had +been a fortune, he was run into debt more than he was able to pay, and +that he knew not what course to take; that he would go into the army +and carry a musket, or buy a horse and take a tour, as he called it; +and though I never told him that I was a fortune, and so did not +actually deceive him myself, yet I did encourage the having it thought +that I was so, and by that means I was the occasion originally of his +mischief. + +The surprise of the thing only struck deeper into my thoughts, and gave +me stronger reflections than all that had befallen me before. I grieved +day and night for him, and the more for that they told me he was the +captain of the gang, and that he had committed so many robberies, that +Hind, or Whitney, or the Golden Farmer were fools to him; that he would +surely be hanged if there were no more men left in the country he was +born in; and that there would abundance of people come in against him. + +I was overwhelmed with grief for him; my own case gave me no +disturbance compared to this, and I loaded myself with reproaches on +his account. I bewailed his misfortunes, and the ruin he was now come +to, at such a rate, that I relished nothing now as I did before, and +the first reflections I made upon the horrid, detestable life I had +lived began to return upon me, and as these things returned, my +abhorrence of the place I was in, and of the way of living in it, +returned also; in a word, I was perfectly changed, and become another +body. + +While I was under these influences of sorrow for him, came notice to me +that the next sessions approaching there would be a bill preferred to +the grand jury against me, and that I should be certainly tried for my +life at the Old Bailey. My temper was touched before, the hardened, +wretched boldness of spirit which I had acquired abated, and conscious +in the prison, guilt began to flow in upon my mind. In short, I began +to think, and to think is one real advance from hell to heaven. All +that hellish, hardened state and temper of soul, which I have said so +much of before, is but a deprivation of thought; he that is restored to +his power of thinking, is restored to himself. + +As soon as I began, I say, to think, the first think that occurred to +me broke out thus: “Lord! what will become of me? I shall certainly +die! I shall be cast, to be sure, and there is nothing beyond that but +death! I have no friends; what shall I do? I shall be certainly cast! +Lord, have mercy upon me! What will become of me?” This was a sad +thought, you will say, to be the first, after so long a time, that had +started into my soul of that kind, and yet even this was nothing but +fright at what was to come; there was not a word of sincere repentance +in it all. However, I was indeed dreadfully dejected, and disconsolate +to the last degree; and as I had no friend in the world to communicate +my distressed thoughts to, it lay so heavy upon me, that it threw me +into fits and swoonings several times a day. I sent for my old +governess, and she, give her her due, acted the part of a true friend. +She left no stone unturned to prevent the grand jury finding the bill. +She sought out one or two of the jurymen, talked with them, and +endeavoured to possess them with favourable dispositions, on account +that nothing was taken away, and no house broken, etc.; but all would +not do, they were over-ruled by the rest; the two wenches swore home to +the fact, and the jury found the bill against me for robbery and +house-breaking, that is, for felony and burglary. + +I sunk down when they brought me news of it, and after I came to myself +again, I thought I should have died with the weight of it. My governess +acted a true mother to me; she pitied me, she cried with me, and for +me, but she could not help me; and to add to the terror of it, ’twas +the discourse all over the house that I should die for it. I could hear +them talk it among themselves very often, and see them shake their +heads and say they were sorry for it, and the like, as is usual in the +place. But still nobody came to tell me their thoughts, till at last +one of the keepers came to me privately, and said with a sigh, “Well, +Mrs. Flanders, you will be tried on Friday” (.); +“what do you intend to do?” I turned as white as a clout, and said, +“God knows what I shall do; for my part, I know not what to do.” “Why,” +says he, “I won’t flatter you, I would have you prepare for death, for +I doubt you will be cast; and as they say you are an old offender, I +doubt you will find but little mercy. They say,” added he, “your case +is very plain, and that the witnesses swear so home against you, there +will be no standing it.” + +This was a stab into the very vitals of one under such a burthen as I +was oppressed with before, and I could not speak to him a word, good or +bad, for a great while; but at last I burst out into tears, and said to +him, “Lord! Mr. ——, what must I do?” “Do!” says he, “send for the +ordinary; send for a minister and talk with him; for, indeed, Mrs. +Flanders, unless you have very good friends, you are no woman for this +world.” + +This was plain dealing indeed, but it was very harsh to me, at least I +thought it so. He left me in the greatest confusion imaginable, and all +that night I lay awake. And now I began to say my prayers, which I had +scarce done before since my last husband’s death, or from a little +while after. And truly I may well call it saying my prayers, for I was +in such a confusion, and had such horror upon my mind, that though I +cried, and repeated several times the ordinary expression of “Lord, +have mercy upon me!” I never brought myself to any sense of my being a +miserable sinner, as indeed I was, and of confessing my sins to God, +and begging pardon for the sake of Jesus Christ. I was overwhelmed with +the sense of my condition, being tried for my life, and being sure to +be condemned, and then I was as sure to be executed, and on this +account I cried out all night, “Lord, what will become of me? Lord! +what shall I do? Lord! I shall be hanged! Lord, have mercy upon me!” +and the like. + +My poor afflicted governess was now as much concerned as I, and a great +deal more truly penitent, though she had no prospect of being brought +to trial and sentence. Not but that she deserved it as much as I, and +so she said herself; but she had not done anything herself for many +years, other than receiving what I and others stole, and encouraging us +to steal it. But she cried, and took on like a distracted body, +wringing her hands, and crying out that she was undone, that she +believed there was a curse from heaven upon her, that she should be +damned, that she had been the destruction of all her friends, that she +had brought such a one, and such a one, and such a one to the gallows; +and there she reckoned up ten or eleven people, some of which I have +given account of, that came to untimely ends; and that now she was the +occasion of my ruin, for she had persuaded me to go on, when I would +have left off. I interrupted her there. “No, mother, no,” said I, +“don’t speak of that, for you would have had me left off when I got the +mercer’s money again, and when I came home from Harwich, and I would +not hearken to you; therefore you have not been to blame; it is I only +have ruined myself, I have brought myself to this misery”; and thus we +spent many hours together. + +Well, there was no remedy; the prosecution went on, and on the Thursday +I was carried down to the sessions-house, where I was arraigned, as +they called it, and the next day I was appointed to be tried. At the +arraignment I pleaded “Not guilty,” and well I might, for I was +indicted for felony and burglary; that is, for feloniously stealing two +pieces of brocaded silk, value £46, the goods of Anthony Johnson, and +for breaking open his doors; whereas I knew very well they could not +pretend to prove I had broken up the doors, or so much as lifted up a +latch. + +On the Friday I was brought to my trial. I had exhausted my spirits +with crying for two or three days before, so that I slept better the +Thursday night than I expected, and had more courage for my trial than +indeed I thought possible for me to have. + +When the trial began, the indictment was read, I would have spoke, but +they told me the witnesses must be heard first, and then I should have +time to be heard. The witnesses were the two wenches, a couple of +hard-mouthed jades indeed, for though the thing was truth in the main, +yet they aggravated it to the utmost extremity, and swore I had the +goods wholly in my possession, that I had hid them among my clothes, +that I was going off with them, that I had one foot over the threshold +when they discovered themselves, and then I put t’ other over, so that +I was quite out of the house in the street with the goods before they +took hold of me, and then they seized me, and brought me back again, +and they took the goods upon me. The fact in general was all true, but +I believe, and insisted upon it, that they stopped me before I had set +my foot clear of the threshold of the house. But that did not argue +much, for certain it was that I had taken the goods, and I was bringing +them away, if I had not been taken. + +But I pleaded that I had stole nothing, they had lost nothing, that the +door was open, and I went in, seeing the goods lie there, and with +design to buy. If, seeing nobody in the house, I had taken any of them +up in my hand it could not be concluded that I intended to steal them, +for that I never carried them farther than the door to look on them +with the better light. + +The Court would not allow that by any means, and made a kind of a jest +of my intending to buy the goods, that being no shop for the selling of +anything, and as to carrying them to the door to look at them, the +maids made their impudent mocks upon that, and spent their wit upon it +very much; told the Court I had looked at them sufficiently, and +approved them very well, for I had packed them up under my clothes, and +was a-going with them. + +In short, I was found guilty of felony, but acquitted of the burglary, +which was but small comfort to me, the first bringing me to a sentence +of death, and the last would have done no more. The next day I was +carried down to receive the dreadful sentence, and when they came to +ask me what I had to say why sentence should not pass, I stood mute a +while, but somebody that stood behind me prompted me aloud to speak to +the judges, for that they could represent things favourably for me. +This encouraged me to speak, and I told them I had nothing to say to +stop the sentence, but that I had much to say to bespeak the mercy of +the Court; that I hoped they would allow something in such a case for +the circumstances of it; that I had broken no doors, had carried +nothing off; that nobody had lost anything; that the person whose goods +they were was pleased to say he desired mercy might be shown (which +indeed he very honestly did); that, at the worst, it was the first +offence, and that I had never been before any court of justice before; +and, in a word, I spoke with more courage that I thought I could have +done, and in such a moving tone, and though with tears, yet not so many +tears as to obstruct my speech, that I could see it moved others to +tears that heard me. + +The judges sat grave and mute, gave me an easy hearing, and time to say +all that I would, but, saying neither Yes nor No to it, pronounced the +sentence of death upon me, a sentence that was to me like death itself, +which, after it was read, confounded me. I had no more spirit left in +me, I had no tongue to speak, or eyes to look up either to God or man. + +My poor governess was utterly disconsolate, and she that was my +comforter before, wanted comfort now herself; and sometimes mourning, +sometimes raging, was as much out of herself, as to all outward +appearance, as any mad woman in Bedlam. Nor was she only disconsolate +as to me, but she was struck with horror at the sense of her own wicked +life, and began to look back upon it with a taste quite different from +mine, for she was penitent to the highest degree for her sins, as well +as sorrowful for the misfortune. She sent for a minister, too, a +serious, pious, good man, and applied herself with such earnestness, by +his assistance, to the work of a sincere repentance, that I believe, +and so did the minister too, that she was a true penitent; and, which +is still more, she was not only so for the occasion, and at that +juncture, but she continued so, as I was informed, to the day of her +death. + +It is rather to be thought of than expressed what was now my condition. +I had nothing before me but present death; and as I had no friends to +assist me, or to stir for me, I expected nothing but to find my name in +the dead warrant, which was to come down for the execution, the Friday +afterwards, of five more and myself. + +In the meantime my poor distressed governess sent me a minister, who at +her request first, and at my own afterwards, came to visit me. He +exhorted me seriously to repent of all my sins, and to dally no longer +with my soul; not flattering myself with hopes of life, which, he said, +he was informed there was no room to expect, but unfeignedly to look up +to God with my whole soul, and to cry for pardon in the name of Jesus +Christ. He backed his discourses with proper quotations of Scripture, +encouraging the greatest sinner to repent, and turn from their evil +way, and when he had done, he kneeled down and prayed with me. + +It was now that, for the first time, I felt any real signs of +repentance. I now began to look back upon my past life with abhorrence, +and having a kind of view into the other side of time, and things of +life, as I believe they do with everybody at such a time, began to look +with a different aspect, and quite another shape, than they did before. +The greatest and best things, the views of felicity, the joy, the +griefs of life, were quite other things; and I had nothing in my +thoughts but what was so infinitely superior to what I had known in +life, that it appeared to me to be the greatest stupidity in nature to +lay any weight upon anything, though the most valuable in this world. + +The word eternity represented itself with all its incomprehensible +additions, and I had such extended notions of it, that I know not how +to express them. Among the rest, how vile, how gross, how absurd did +every pleasant thing look!—I mean, that we had counted pleasant +before—especially when I reflected that these sordid trifles were the +things for which we forfeited eternal felicity. + +With these reflections came, of mere course, severe reproaches of my +own mind for my wretched behaviour in my past life; that I had +forfeited all hope of any happiness in the eternity that I was just +going to enter into, and on the contrary was entitled to all that was +miserable, or had been conceived of misery; and all this with the +frightful addition of its being also eternal. + +I am not capable of reading lectures of instruction to anybody, but I +relate this in the very manner in which things then appeared to me, as +far as I am able, but infinitely short of the lively impressions which +they made on my soul at that time; indeed, those impressions are not to +be explained by words, or if they are, I am not mistress of words +enough to express them. It must be the work of every sober reader to +make just reflections on them, as their own circumstances may direct; +and, without question, this is what every one at some time or other may +feel something of; I mean, a clearer sight into things to come than +they had here, and a dark view of their own concern in them. + +But I go back to my own case. The minister pressed me to tell him, as +far as I thought convenient, in what state I found myself as to the +sight I had of things beyond life. He told me he did not come as +ordinary of the place, whose business it is to extort confessions from +prisoners, for private ends, or for the further detecting of other +offenders; that his business was to move me to such freedom of +discourse as might serve to disburthen my own mind, and furnish him to +administer comfort to me as far as was in his power; and assured me, +that whatever I said to him should remain with him, and be as much a +secret as if it was known only to God and myself; and that he desired +to know nothing of me, but as above to qualify him to apply proper +advice and assistance to me, and to pray to God for me. + +This honest, friendly way of treating me unlocked all the sluices of my +passions. He broke into my very soul by it; and I unravelled all the +wickedness of my life to him. In a word, I gave him an abridgment of +this whole history; I gave him a picture of my conduct for fifty years +in miniature. + +I hid nothing from him, and he in return exhorted me to sincere +repentance, explained to me what he meant by repentance, and then drew +out such a scheme of infinite mercy, proclaimed from heaven to sinners +of the greatest magnitude, that he left me nothing to say, that looked +like despair, or doubting of being accepted; and in this condition he +left me the first night. + +He visited me again the next morning, and went on with his method of +explaining the terms of divine mercy, which according to him consisted +of nothing more, or more difficult, than that of being sincerely +desirous of it, and willing to accept it; only a sincere regret for, +and hatred of, those things I had done, which rendered me so just an +object of divine vengeance. I am not able to repeat the excellent +discourses of this extraordinary man; ’tis all that I am able to do, to +say that he revived my heart, and brought me into such a condition that +I never knew anything of in my life before. I was covered with shame +and tears for things past, and yet had at the same time a secret +surprising joy at the prospect of being a true penitent, and obtaining +the comfort of a penitent—I mean, the hope of being forgiven; and so +swift did thoughts circulate, and so high did the impressions they had +made upon me run, that I thought I could freely have gone out that +minute to execution, without any uneasiness at all, casting my soul +entirely into the arms of infinite mercy as a penitent. + +The good gentleman was so moved also in my behalf with a view of the +influence which he saw these things had on me, that he blessed God he +had come to visit me, and resolved not to leave me till the last +moment; that is, not to leave visiting me. + +It was no less than twelve days after our receiving sentence before any +were ordered for execution, and then upon a Wednesday the dead warrant, +as they call it, came down, and I found my name was among them. A +terrible blow this was to my new resolutions; indeed my heart sank +within me, and I swooned away twice, one after another, but spoke not a +word. The good minister was sorely afflicted for me, and did what he +could to comfort me with the same arguments, and the same moving +eloquence that he did before, and left me not that evening so long as +the prisonkeepers would suffer him to stay in the prison, unless he +would be locked up with me all night, which he was not willing to be. + +I wondered much that I did not see him all the next day, it being the +day before the time appointed for execution; and I was greatly +discouraged, and dejected in my mind, and indeed almost sank for want +of the comfort which he had so often, and with such success, yielded me +on his former visits. I waited with great impatience, and under the +greatest oppressions of spirits imaginable, till about four o’clock he +came to my apartment; for I had obtained the favour, by the help of +money, nothing being to be done in that place without it, not to be +kept in the condemned hole, as they call it, among the rest of the +prisoners who were to die, but to have a little dirty chamber to +myself. + +My heart leaped within me for joy when I heard his voice at the door, +even before I saw him; but let any one judge what kind of motion I +found in my soul, when after having made a short excuse for his not +coming, he showed me that his time had been employed on my account; +that he had obtained a favourable report from the Recorder to the +Secretary of State in my particular case, and, in short, that he had +brought me a reprieve. + +He used all the caution that he was able in letting me know a thing +which it would have been a double cruelty to have concealed; and yet it +was too much for me; for as grief had overset me before, so did joy +overset me now, and I fell into a much more dangerous swooning than I +did at first, and it was not without a great difficulty that I was +recovered at all. + +The good man having made a very Christian exhortation to me, not to let +the joy of my reprieve put the remembrance of my past sorrow out of my +mind, and having told me that he must leave me, to go and enter the +reprieve in the books, and show it to the sheriffs, stood up just +before his going away, and in a very earnest manner prayed to God for +me, that my repentance might be made unfeigned and sincere; and that my +coming back, as it were, into life again, might not be a returning to +the follies of life which I had made such solemn resolutions to +forsake, and to repent of them. I joined heartily in the petition, and +must needs say I had deeper impressions upon my mind all that night, of +the mercy of God in sparing my life, and a greater detestation of my +past sins, from a sense of the goodness which I had tasted in this +case, than I had in all my sorrow before. + +This may be thought inconsistent in itself, and wide from the business +of this book; particularly, I reflect that many of those who may be +pleased and diverted with the relation of the wild and wicked part of +my story may not relish this, which is really the best part of my life, +the most advantageous to myself, and the most instructive to others. +Such, however, will, I hope, allow me the liberty to make my story +complete. It would be a severe satire on such to say they do not relish +the repentance as much as they do the crime; and that they had rather +the history were a complete tragedy, as it was very likely to have +been. + +But I go on with my relation. The next morning there was a sad scene +indeed in the prison. The first thing I was saluted with in the morning +was the tolling of the great bell at St. Sepulchre’s, as they call it, +which ushered in the day. As soon as it began to toll, a dismal +groaning and crying was heard from the condemned hole, where there lay +six poor souls who were to be executed that day, some from one crime, +some for another, and two of them for murder. + +This was followed by a confused clamour in the house, among the several +sorts of prisoners, expressing their awkward sorrows for the poor +creatures that were to die, but in a manner extremely differing one +from another. Some cried for them; some huzzaed, and wished them a good +journey; some damned and cursed those that had brought them to it—that +is, meaning the evidence, or prosecutors—many pitying them, and some +few, but very few, praying for them. + +There was hardly room for so much composure of mind as was required for +me to bless the merciful Providence that had, as it were, snatched me +out of the jaws of this destruction. I remained, as it were, dumb and +silent, overcome with the sense of it, and not able to express what I +had in my heart; for the passions on such occasions as these are +certainly so agitated as not to be able presently to regulate their own +motions. + +All the while the poor condemned creatures were preparing to their +death, and the ordinary, as they call him, was busy with them, +disposing them to submit to their sentence—I say, all this while I was +seized with a fit of trembling, as much as I could have been if I had +been in the same condition, as to be sure the day before I expected to +be; I was so violently agitated by this surprising fit, that I shook as +if it had been in the cold fit of an ague, so that I could not speak or +look but like one distracted. As soon as they were all put into carts +and gone, which, however, I had not courage enough to see—I say, as +soon as they were gone, I fell into a fit of crying involuntarily, and +without design, but as a mere distemper, and yet so violent, and it +held me so long, that I knew not what course to take, nor could I stop, +or put a check to it, no, not with all the strength and courage I had. + +This fit of crying held me near two hours, and, as I believe, held me +till they were all out of the world, and then a most humble, penitent, +serious kind of joy succeeded; a real transport it was, or passion of +joy and thankfulness, but still unable to give vent to it by words, and +in this I continued most part of the day. + +In the evening the good minister visited me again, and then fell to his +usual good discourses. He congratulated my having a space yet allowed +me for repentance, whereas the state of those six poor creatures was +determined, and they were now past the offers of salvation; he +earnestly pressed me to retain the same sentiments of the things of +life that I had when I had a view of eternity; and at the end of all +told me I should not conclude that all was over, that a reprieve was +not a pardon, that he could not yet answer for the effects of it; +however, I had this mercy, that I had more time given me, and that it +was my business to improve that time. + +This discourse, though very seasonable, left a kind of sadness on my +heart, as if I might expect the affair would have a tragical issue +still, which, however, he had no certainty of; and I did not indeed, at +that time, question him about it, he having said that he would do his +utmost to bring it to a good end, and that he hoped he might, but he +would not have me be secure; and the consequence proved that he had +reason for what he said. + +It was about a fortnight after this that I had some just apprehensions +that I should be included in the next dead warrant at the ensuing +sessions; and it was not without great difficulty, and at last a humble +petition for transportation, that I avoided it, so ill was I beholding +to fame, and so prevailing was the fatal report of being an old +offender; though in that they did not do me strict justice, for I was +not in the sense of the law an old offender, whatever I was in the eye +of the judge, for I had never been before them in a judicial way +before; so the judges could not charge me with being an old offender, +but the Recorder was pleased to represent my case as he thought fit. + +I had now a certainty of life indeed, but with the hard conditions of +being ordered for transportation, which indeed was hard condition in +itself, but not when comparatively considered; and therefore I shall +make no comments upon the sentence, nor upon the choice I was put to. +We shall all choose anything rather than death, especially when ’tis +attended with an uncomfortable prospect beyond it, which was my case. + +The good minister, whose interest, though a stranger to me, had +obtained me the reprieve, mourned sincerely for this part. He was in +hopes, he said, that I should have ended my days under the influence of +good instruction, that I should not have been turned loose again among +such a wretched crew as they generally are, who are thus sent abroad, +where, as he said, I must have more than ordinary secret assistance +from the grace of God, if I did not turn as wicked again as ever. + +I have not for a good while mentioned my governess, who had during +most, if not all, of this part been dangerously sick, and being in as +near a view of death by her disease as I was by my sentence, was a +great penitent—I say, I have not mentioned her, nor indeed did I see +her in all this time; but being now recovering, and just able to come +abroad, she came to see me. + +I told her my condition, and what a different flux and reflux of tears +and hopes I had been agitated with; I told her what I had escaped, and +upon what terms; and she was present when the minister expressed his +fears of my relapsing into wickedness upon my falling into the wretched +companies that are generally transported. Indeed I had a melancholy +reflection upon it in my own mind, for I knew what a dreadful gang was +always sent away together, and I said to my governess that the good +minister’s fears were not without cause. “Well, well,” says she, “but I +hope you will not be tempted with such a horrid example as that.” And +as soon as the minister was gone, she told me she would not have me +discouraged, for perhaps ways and means might be found out to dispose +of me in a particular way, by myself, of which she would talk further +to me afterward. + +I looked earnestly at her, and I thought she looked more cheerful than +she usually had done, and I entertained immediately a thousand notions +of being delivered, but could not for my life image the methods, or +think of one that was in the least feasible; but I was too much +concerned in it to let her go from me without explaining herself, +which, though she was very loth to do, yet my importunity prevailed, +and, while I was still pressing, she answered me in a few words, thus: +“Why, you have money, have you not? Did you ever know one in your life +that was transported and had a hundred pounds in his pocket, I’ll +warrant you, child?” says she. + +I understood her presently, but told her I would leave all that to her, +but I saw no room to hope for anything but a strict execution of the +order, and as it was a severity that was esteemed a mercy, there was no +doubt but it would be strictly observed. She said no more but this: “We +will try what can be done,” and so we parted for that night. + +I lay in the prison near fifteen weeks after this order for +transportation was signed. What the reason of it was, I know not, but +at the end of this time I was put on board of a ship in the Thames, and +with me a gang of thirteen as hardened vile creatures as ever Newgate +produced in my time; and it would really well take up a history longer +than mine to describe the degrees of impudence and audacious villainy +that those thirteen were arrived to, and the manner of their behaviour +in the voyage; of which I have a very diverting account by me, which +the captain of the ship who carried them over gave me the minutes of, +and which he caused his mate to write down at large. + +It may perhaps be thought trifling to enter here into a relation of all +the little incidents which attended me in this interval of my +circumstances; I mean, between the final order of my transportation and +the time of my going on board the ship; and I am too near the end of my +story to allow room for it; but something relating to me and my +Lancashire husband I must not omit. + +He had, as I have observed already, been carried from the master’s side +of the ordinary prison into the press-yard, with three of his comrades, +for they found another to add to them after some time; here, for what +reason I knew not, they were kept in custody without being brought to +trial almost three months. It seems they found means to bribe or buy +off some of those who were expected to come in against them, and they +wanted evidence for some time to convict them. After some puzzle on +this account, at first they made a shift to get proof enough against +two of them to carry them off; but the other two, of which my +Lancashire husband was one, lay still in suspense. They had, I think, +one positive evidence against each of them, but the law strictly +obliging them to have two witnesses, they could make nothing of it. Yet +it seems they were resolved not to part with the men neither, not +doubting but a further evidence would at last come in; and in order to +this, I think publication was made, that such prisoners being taken, +any one that had been robbed by them might come to the prison and see +them. + +I took this opportunity to satisfy my curiosity, pretending that I had +been robbed in the Dunstable coach, and that I would go to see the two +highwaymen. But when I came into the press-yard, I so disguised myself, +and muffled my face up so, that he could see little of me, and +consequently knew nothing of who I was; and when I came back, I said +publicly that I knew them very well. + +Immediately it was rumoured all over the prison that Moll Flanders +would turn evidence against one of the highwaymen, and that I was to +come off by it from the sentence of transportation. + +They heard of it, and immediately my husband desired to see this Mrs. +Flanders that knew him so well, and was to be an evidence against him; +and accordingly I had leave given to go to him. I dressed myself up as +well as the best clothes that I suffered myself ever to appear in there +would allow me, and went to the press-yard, but had for some time a +hood over my face. He said little to me at first, but asked me if I +knew him. I told him, Yes, very well; but as I concealed my face, so I +counterfeited my voice, that he had not the least guess at who I was. +He asked me where I had seen him. I told him between Dunstable and +Brickhill; but turning to the keeper that stood by, I asked if I might +not be admitted to talk with him alone. He said Yes, yes, as much as I +pleased, and so very civilly withdrew. + +As soon as he was gone, I had shut the door, I threw off my hood, and +bursting out into tears, “My dear,” says I, “do you not know me?” He +turned pale, and stood speechless, like one thunderstruck, and, not +able to conquer the surprise, said no more but this, “Let me sit down”; +and sitting down by a table, he laid his elbow upon the table, and +leaning his head on his hand, fixed his eyes on the ground as one +stupid. I cried so vehemently, on the other hand, that it was a good +while ere I could speak any more; but after I had given some vent to my +passion by tears, I repeated the same words, “My dear, do you not know +me?” At which he answered, Yes, and said no more a good while. + +After some time continuing in the surprise, as above, he cast up his +eyes towards me and said, “How could you be so cruel?” I did not +readily understand what he meant; and I answered, “How can you call me +cruel? What have I been cruel to you in?” “To come to me,” says he, “in +such a place as this, is it not to insult me? I have not robbed you, at +least not on the highway.” + +I perceived by this that he knew nothing of the miserable circumstances +I was in, and thought that, having got some intelligence of his being +there, I had come to upbraid him with his leaving me. But I had too +much to say to him to be affronted, and told him in few words, that I +was far from coming to insult him, but at best I came to condole +mutually; that he would be easily satisfied that I had no such view, +when I should tell him that my condition was worse than his, and that +many ways. He looked a little concerned at the general expression of my +condition being worse than his, but, with a kind smile, looked a little +wildly, and said, “How can that be? When you see me fettered, and in +Newgate, and two of my companions executed already, how can your your +condition be worse than mine?” + +“Come, my dear,” says I, “we have a long piece of work to do, if I +should be to relate, or you to hear, my unfortunate history; but if you +are disposed to hear it, you will soon conclude with me that my +condition is worse than yours.” “How is that possible,” says he again, +“when I expect to be cast for my life the very next sessions?” “Yes,” +says I, “’tis very possible, when I shall tell you that I have been +cast for my life three sessions ago, and am under sentence of death; is +not my case worse than yours?” + +Then indeed, he stood silent again, like one struck dumb, and after a +while he starts up. “Unhappy couple!” says he. “How can this be +possible?” I took him by the hand. “Come, my dear,” said I, “sit down, +and let us compare our sorrows. I am a prisoner in this very house, and +in much worse circumstances than you, and you will be satisfied I do +not come to insult you, when I tell you the particulars.” And with this +we sat down together, and I told him so much of my story as I thought +was convenient, bringing it at last to my being reduced to great +poverty, and representing myself as fallen into some company that led +me to relieve my distresses by way that I had been utterly unacquainted +with, and that they making an attempt at a tradesman’s house, I was +seized upon for having been but just at the door, the maid-servant +pulling me in; that I neither had broke any lock nor taken anything +away, and that notwithstanding that, I was brought in guilty and +sentenced to die; but that the judges, having been made sensible of the +hardship of my circumstances, had obtained leave to remit the sentence +upon my consenting to be transported. + +I told him I fared the worse for being taken in the prison for one Moll +Flanders, who was a famous successful thief, that all of them had heard +of, but none of them had ever seen; but that, as he knew well, was none +of my name. But I placed all to the account of my ill fortune, and that +under this name I was dealt with as an old offender, though this was +the first thing they had ever known of me. I gave him a long particular +of things that had befallen me since I saw him, but I told him if I had +seen him since he might think I had, and then gave him an account how I +had seen him at Brickhill; how furiously he was pursued, and how, by +giving an account that I knew him, and that he was a very honest +gentleman, one Mr. ——, the hue-and-cry was stopped, and the high +constable went back again. + +He listened most attentively to all my story, and smiled at most of the +particulars, being all of them petty matters, and infinitely below what +he had been at the head of; but when I came to the story of Brickhill, +he was surprised. “And was it you, my dear,” said he, “that gave the +check to the mob that was at our heels there, at Brickhill?” “Yes,” +said I, “it was I indeed.” And then I told him the particulars which I +had observed him there. “Why, then,” said he, “it was you that saved my +life at that time, and I am glad I owe my life to you, for I will pay +the debt to you now, and I’ll deliver you from the present condition +you are in, or I will die in the attempt.” + +I told him, by no means; it was a risk too great, not worth his running +the hazard of, and for a life not worth his saving. ’Twas no matter for +that, he said, it was a life worth all the world to him; a life that +had given him a new life; “for,” says he, “I was never in real danger +of being taken, but that time, till the last minute when I was taken.” +Indeed, he told me his danger then lay in his believing he had not been +pursued that way; for they had gone off from Hockey quite another way, +and had come over the enclosed country into Brickhill, not by the road, +and were sure they had not been seen by anybody. + +Here he gave me a long history of his life, which indeed would make a +very strange history, and be infinitely diverting. He told me he took +to the road about twelve years before he married me; that the woman +which called him brother was not really his sister, or any kin to him, +but one that belonged to their gang, and who, keeping correspondence +with him, lived always in town, having good store of acquaintance; that +she gave them a perfect intelligence of persons going out of town, and +that they had made several good booties by her correspondence; that she +thought she had fixed a fortune for him when she brought me to him, but +happened to be disappointed, which he really could not blame her for; +that if it had been his good luck that I had had the estate, which she +was informed I had, he had resolved to leave off the road and live a +retired, sober life but never to appear in public till some general +pardon had been passed, or till he could, for money, have got his name +into some particular pardon, that so he might have been perfectly easy; +but that, as it had proved otherwise, he was obliged to put off his +equipage and take up the old trade again. + +He gave me a long account of some of his adventures, and particularly +one when he robbed the West Chester coaches near Lichfield, when he got +a very great booty; and after that, how he robbed five graziers, in the +west, going to Burford Fair in Wiltshire to buy sheep. He told me he +got so much money on those two occasions, that if he had known where to +have found me, he would certainly have embraced my proposal of going +with me to Virginia, or to have settled in a plantation on some other +parts of the English colonies in America. + +He told me he wrote two or three letters to me, directed according to +my order, but heard nothing from me. This I indeed knew to be true, but +the letters coming to my hand in the time of my latter husband, I could +do nothing in it, and therefore chose to give no answer, that so he +might rather believe they had miscarried. + +Being thus disappointed, he said, he carried on the old trade ever +since, though when he had gotten so much money, he said, he did not run +such desperate risks as he did before. Then he gave me some account of +several hard and desperate encounters which he had with gentlemen on +the road, who parted too hardly with their money, and showed me some +wounds he had received; and he had one or two very terrible wounds +indeed, as particularly one by a pistol bullet, which broke his arm, +and another with a sword, which ran him quite through the body, but +that missing his vitals, he was cured again; one of his comrades having +kept with him so faithfully, and so friendly, as that he assisted him +in riding near eighty miles before his arm was set, and then got a +surgeon in a considerable city, remote from that place where it was +done, pretending they were gentlemen travelling towards Carlisle and +that they had been attacked on the road by highwaymen, and that one of +them had shot him into the arm and broke the bone. + +This, he said, his friend managed so well, that they were not suspected +at all, but lay still till he was perfectly cured. He gave me so many +distinct accounts of his adventures, that it is with great reluctance +that I decline the relating them; but I consider that this is my own +story, not his. + +I then inquired into the circumstances of his present case at that +time, and what it was he expected when he came to be tried. He told me +that they had no evidence against him, or but very little; for that of +three robberies, which they were all charged with, it was his good +fortune that he was but in one of them, and that there was but one +witness to be had for that fact, which was not sufficient, but that it +was expected some others would come in against him; that he thought +indeed, when he first saw me, that I had been one that came of that +errand; but that if somebody came in against him, he hoped he should be +cleared; that he had had some intimation, that if he would submit to +transport himself, he might be admitted to it without a trial, but that +he could not think of it with any temper, and thought he could much +easier submit to be hanged. + +I blamed him for that, and told him I blamed him on two accounts; +first, because if he was transported, there might be a hundred ways for +him that was a gentleman, and a bold enterprising man, to find his way +back again, and perhaps some ways and means to come back before he +went. He smiled at that part, and said he should like the last the best +of the two, for he had a kind of horror upon his mind at his being sent +over to the plantations, as Romans sent condemned slaves to work in the +mines; that he thought the passage into another state, let it be what +it would, much more tolerable at the gallows, and that this was the +general notion of all the gentlemen who were driven by the exigence of +their fortunes to take the road; that at the place of execution there +was at least an end of all the miseries of the present state, and as +for what was to follow, a man was, in his opinion, as likely to repent +sincerely in the last fortnight of his life, under the pressures and +agonies of a jail and the condemned hole, as he would ever be in the +woods and wilderness of America; that servitude and hard labour were +things gentlemen could never stoop to; that it was but the way to force +them to be their own executioners afterwards, which was much worse; and +that therefore he could not have any patience when he did but think of +being transported. + +I used the utmost of my endeavour to persuade him, and joined that +known woman’s rhetoric to it—I mean, that of tears. I told him the +infamy of a public execution was certainly a greater pressure upon the +spirits of a gentleman than any of the mortifications that he could +meet with abroad could be; that he had at least in the other a chance +for his life, whereas here he had none at all; that it was the easiest +thing in the world for him to manage the captain of a ship, who were, +generally speaking, men of good-humour and some gallantry; and a small +matter of conduct, especially if there was any money to be had, would +make way for him to buy himself off when he came to Virginia. + +He looked wistfully at me, and I thought I guessed at what he meant, +that is to say, that he had no money; but I was mistaken, his meaning +was another way. “You hinted just now, my dear,” said he, “that there +might be a way of coming back before I went, by which I understood you +that it might be possible to buy it off here. I had rather give £200 to +prevent going, than £100 to be set at liberty when I came there.” “That +is, my dear,” said I, “because you do not know the place so well as I +do.” “That may be,” said he; “and yet I believe, as well as you know +it, you would do the same, unless it is because, as you told me, you +have a mother there.” + +I told him, as to my mother, it was next to impossible but that she +must be dead many years before; and as for any other relations that I +might have there, I knew them not now; that since the misfortunes I had +been under had reduced me to the condition I had been in for some +years, I had not kept up any correspondence with them; and that he +would easily believe, I should find but a cold reception from them if I +should be put to make my first visit in the condition of a transported +felon; that therefore, if I went thither, I resolved not to see them; +but that I had many views in going there, if it should be my fate, +which took off all the uneasy part of it; and if he found himself +obliged to go also, I should easily instruct him how to manage himself, +so as never to go a servant at all, especially since I found he was not +destitute of money, which was the only friend in such a condition. + +He smiled, and said he did not tell me he had money. I took him up +short, and told him I hoped he did not understand by my speaking, that +I should expect any supply from him if he had money; that, on the other +hand, though I had not a great deal, yet I did not want, and while I +had any I would rather add to him than weaken him in that article, +seeing, whatever he had, I knew in the case of transportation he would +have occasion of it all. + +He expressed himself in a most tender manner upon that head. He told me +what money he had was not a great deal, but that he would never hide +any of it from me if I wanted it, and that he assured me he did not +speak with any such apprehensions; that he was only intent upon what I +had hinted to him before he went; that here he knew what to do with +himself, but that there he should be the most ignorant, helpless wretch +alive. + +I told him he frighted and terrified himself with that which had no +terror in it; that if he had money, as I was glad to hear he had, he +might not only avoid the servitude supposed to be the consequence of +transportation, but begin the world upon a new foundation, and that +such a one as he could not fail of success in, with the common +application usual in such cases; that he could not but call to mind +that it was what I had recommended to him many years before and had +proposed it for our mutual subsistence and restoring our fortunes in +the world; and I would tell him now, that to convince him both of the +certainty of it and of my being fully acquainted with the method, and +also fully satisfied in the probability of success, he should first see +me deliver myself from the necessity of going over at all, and then +that I would go with him freely, and of my own choice, and perhaps +carry enough with me to satisfy him that I did not offer it for want of +being able to live without assistance from him, but that I thought our +mutual misfortunes had been such as were sufficient to reconcile us +both to quitting this part of the world, and living where nobody could +upbraid us with what was past, or we be in any dread of a prison, and +without agonies of a condemned hole to drive us to it; this where we +should look back on all our past disasters with infinite satisfaction, +when we should consider that our enemies should entirely forget us, and +that we should live as new people in a new world, nobody having +anything to say to us, or we to them. + +I pressed this home to him with so many arguments, and answered all his +own passionate objections so effectually that he embraced me, and told +me I treated him with such sincerity and affection as overcame him; +that he would take my advice, and would strive to submit to his fate in +hope of having the comfort of my assistance, and of so faithful a +counsellor and such a companion in his misery. But still he put me in +mind of what I had mentioned before, namely, that there might be some +way to get off before he went, and that it might be possible to avoid +going at all, which he said would be much better. I told him he should +see, and be fully satisfied, that I would do my utmost in that part +too, and if it did not succeed, yet that I would make good the rest. + +We parted after this long conference with such testimonies of kindness +and affection as I thought were equal, if not superior, to that at our +parting at Dunstable; and now I saw more plainly than before, the +reason why he declined coming at that time any farther with me toward +London than Dunstable, and why, when we parted there, he told me it was +not convenient for him to come part of the way to London to bring me +going, as he would otherwise have done. I have observed that the +account of his life would have made a much more pleasing history than +this of mine; and, indeed, nothing in it was more strange than this +part, viz. that he carried on that desperate trade full five-and-twenty +years and had never been taken, the success he had met with had been so +very uncommon, and such that sometimes he had lived handsomely, and +retired in place for a year or two at a time, keeping himself and a +man-servant to wait on him, and had often sat in the coffee-houses and +heard the very people whom he had robbed give accounts of their being +robbed, and of the place and circumstances, so that he could easily +remember that it was the same. + +In this manner, it seems, he lived near Liverpool at the time he +unluckily married me for a fortune. Had I been the fortune he expected, +I verily believe, as he said, that he would have taken up and lived +honestly all his days. + +He had with the rest of his misfortunes the good luck not to be +actually upon the spot when the robbery was done which he was committed +for, and so none of the persons robbed could swear to him, or had +anything to charge upon him. But it seems as he was taken with the +gang, one hard-mouthed countryman swore home to him, and they were like +to have others come in according to the publication they had made; so +that they expected more evidence against him, and for that reason he +was kept in hold. + +However, the offer which was made to him of admitting him to +transportation was made, as I understood, upon the intercession of some +great person who pressed him hard to accept of it before a trial; and +indeed, as he knew there were several that might come in against him, I +thought his friend was in the right, and I lay at him night and day to +delay it no longer. + +At last, with much difficulty, he gave his consent; and as he was not +therefore admitted to transportation in court, and on his petition, as +I was, so he found himself under a difficulty to avoid embarking +himself as I had said he might have done; his great friend, who was his +intercessor for the favour of that grant, having given security for him +that he should transport himself, and not return within the term. + +This hardship broke all my measures, for the steps I took afterwards +for my own deliverance were hereby rendered wholly ineffectual, unless +I would abandon him, and leave him to go to America by himself; than +which he protested he would much rather venture, although he were +certain to go directly to the gallows. + +I must now return to my case. The time of my being transported +according to my sentence was near at hand; my governess, who continued +my fast friend, had tried to obtain a pardon, but it could not be done +unless with an expense too heavy for my purse, considering that to be +left naked and empty, unless I had resolved to return to my old trade +again, had been worse than my transportation, because there I knew I +could live, here I could not. The good minister stood very hard on +another account to prevent my being transported also; but he was +answered, that indeed my life had been given me at his first +solicitations, and therefore he ought to ask no more. He was sensibly +grieved at my going, because, as he said, he feared I should lose the +good impressions which a prospect of death had at first made on me, and +which were since increased by his instructions; and the pious gentleman +was exceedingly concerned about me on that account. + +On the other hand, I really was not so solicitous about it as I was +before, but I industriously concealed my reasons for it from the +minister, and to the last he did not know but that I went with the +utmost reluctance and affliction. + +It was in the month of February that I was, with seven other convicts, +as they called us, delivered to a merchant that traded to Virginia, on +board a ship, riding, as they called it, in Deptford Reach. The officer +of the prison delivered us on board, and the master of the vessel gave +a discharge for us. + +We were for that night clapped under hatches, and kept so close that I +thought I should have been suffocated for want of air; and the next +morning the ship weighed, and fell down the river to a place they call +Bugby’s Hole, which was done, as they told us, by the agreement of the +merchant, that all opportunity of escape should be taken from us. +However, when the ship came thither and cast anchor, we were allowed +more liberty, and particularly were permitted to come up on the deck, +but not up on the quarter-deck, that being kept particularly for the +captain and for passengers. + +When by the noise of the men over my head, and the motion of the ship, +I perceived that they were under sail, I was at first greatly +surprised, fearing we should go away directly, and that our friends +would not be admitted to see us any more; but I was easy soon after, +when I found they had come to an anchor again, and soon after that we +had notice given by some of the men where we were, that the next +morning we should have the liberty to come up on deck, and to have our +friends come and see us if we had any. + +All that night I lay upon the hard boards of the deck, as the +passengers did, but we had afterwards the liberty of little cabins for +such of us as had any bedding to lay in them, and room to stow any box +or trunk for clothes and linen, if we had it (which might well be put +in), for some of them had neither shirt nor shift or a rag of linen or +woollen, but what was on their backs, or a farthing of money to help +themselves; and yet I did not find but they fared well enough in the +ship, especially the women, who got money from the seamen for washing +their clothes, sufficient to purchase any common things that they +wanted. + +When the next morning we had the liberty to come up on the deck, I +asked one of the officers of the ship, whether I might not have the +liberty to send a letter on shore, to let my friends know where the +ship lay, and to get some necessary things sent to me. This was, it +seems, the boatswain, a very civil, courteous sort of man, who told me +I should have that, or any other liberty that I desired, that he could +allow me with safety. I told him I desired no other; and he answered +that the ship’s boat would go up to London the next tide, and he would +order my letter to be carried. + +Accordingly, when the boat went off, the boatswain came to me and told +me the boat was going off, and that he went in it himself, and asked me +if my letter was ready he would take care of it. I had prepared myself, +you may be sure, pen, ink, and paper beforehand, and I had gotten a +letter ready directed to my governess, and enclosed another for my +fellow-prisoner, which, however, I did not let her know was my husband, +not to the last. In that to my governess, I let her know where the ship +lay, and pressed her earnestly to send me what things I knew she had +got ready for me for my voyage. + +When I gave the boatswain the letter, I gave him a shilling with it, +which I told him was for the charge of a messenger or porter, which I +entreated him to send with the letter as soon as he came on shore, that +if possible I might have an answer brought back by the same hand, that +I might know what was become of my things; “for sir,” says I, “if the +ship should go away before I have them on board, I am undone.” + +I took care, when I gave him the shilling, to let him see that I had a +little better furniture about me than the ordinary prisoners, for he +saw that I had a purse, and in it a pretty deal of money; and I found +that the very sight of it immediately furnished me with very different +treatment from what I should otherwise have met with in the ship; for +though he was very courteous indeed before, in a kind of natural +compassion to me, as a woman in distress, yet he was more than +ordinarily so afterwards, and procured me to be better treated in the +ship than, I say, I might otherwise have been; as shall appear in its +place. + +He very honestly had my letter delivered to my governess’s own hands, +and brought me back an answer from her in writing; and when he gave me +the answer, gave me the shilling again. “There,” says he, “there’s your +shilling again too, for I delivered the letter myself.” I could not +tell what to say, I was so surprised at the thing; but after some +pause, I said, “Sir, you are too kind; it had been but reasonable that +you had paid yourself coach-hire, then.” + +“No, no,” says he, “I am overpaid. What is the gentlewoman? Your +sister.” + +“No, sir,” says I, “she is no relation to me, but she is a dear friend, +and all the friends I have in the world.” “Well,” says he, “there are +few such friends in the world. Why, she cried after you like a child.” +“Ay,” says I again, “she would give a hundred pounds, I believe, to +deliver me from this dreadful condition I am in.” + +“Would she so?” says he. “For half the money I believe I could put you +in a way how to deliver yourself.” But this he spoke softly, that +nobody could hear. + +“Alas! sir,” said I, “but then that must be such a deliverance as, if I +should be taken again, would cost me my life.” “Nay,” said he, “if you +were once out of the ship, you must look to yourself afterwards; that I +can say nothing to.” So we dropped the discourse for that time. + +In the meantime, my governess, faithful to the last moment, conveyed my +letter to the prison to my husband, and got an answer to it, and the +next day came down herself to the ship, bringing me, in the first +place, a sea-bed as they call it, and all its furniture, such as was +convenient, but not to let the people think it was extraordinary. She +brought with her a sea-chest—that is, a chest, such as are made for +seamen, with all the conveniences in it, and filled with everything +almost that I could want; and in one of the corners of the chest, where +there was a private drawer, was my bank of money—this is to say, so +much of it as I had resolved to carry with me; for I ordered a part of +my stock to be left behind me, to be sent afterwards in such goods as I +should want when I came to settle; for money in that country is not of +much use where all things are brought for tobacco, much more is it a +great loss to carry it from hence. + +But my case was particular; it was by no means proper to me to go +thither without money or goods, and for a poor convict, that was to be +sold as soon as I came on shore, to carry with me a cargo of goods +would be to have notice taken of it, and perhaps to have them seized by +the public; so I took part of my stock with me thus, and left the other +part with my governess. + +My governess brought me a great many other things, but it was not +proper for me to look too well provided in the ship, at least till I +knew what kind of a captain we should have. When she came into the +ship, I thought she would have died indeed; her heart sank at the sight +of me, and at the thoughts of parting with me in that condition, and +she cried so intolerably, I could not for a long time have any talk +with her. + +I took that time to read my fellow-prisoner’s letter, which, however, +greatly perplexed me. He told me he was determined to go, but found it +would be impossible for him to be discharged time enough for going in +the same ship, and which was more than all, he began to question +whether they would give him leave to go in what ship he pleased, though +he did voluntarily transport himself; but that they would see him put +on board such a ship as they should direct, and that he would be +charged upon the captain as other convict prisoners were; so that he +began to be in despair of seeing me till he came to Virginia, which +made him almost desperate; seeing that, on the other hand, if I should +not be there, if any accident of the sea or of mortality should take me +away, he should be the most undone creature there in the world. + +This was very perplexing, and I knew not what course to take. I told my +governess the story of the boatswain, and she was mighty eager with me +treat with him; but I had no mind to it, till I heard whether my +husband, or fellow-prisoner, so she called him, could be at liberty to +go with me or no. At last I was forced to let her into the whole +matter, except only that of his being my husband. I told her I had made +a positive bargain or agreement with him to go, if he could get the +liberty of going in the same ship, and that I found he had money. + +Then I read a long lecture to her of what I proposed to do when we came +there, how we could plant, settle, and, in short, grow rich without any +more adventures; and, as a great secret, I told her that we were to +marry as soon as he came on board. + +She soon agreed cheerfully to my going when she heard this, and she +made it her business from that time to get him out of the prison in +time, so that he might go in the same ship with me, which at last was +brought to pass, though with great difficulty, and not without all the +forms of a transported prisoner-convict, which he really was not yet, +for he had not been tried, and which was a great mortification to him. +As our fate was now determined, and we were both on board, actually +bound to Virginia, in the despicable quality of transported convicts +destined to be sold for slaves, I for five years, and he under bonds +and security not to return to England any more, as long as he lived, he +was very much dejected and cast down; the mortification of being +brought on board, as he was, like a prisoner, piqued him very much, +since it was first told him he should transport himself, and so that he +might go as a gentleman at liberty. It is true he was not ordered to be +sold when he came there, as we were, and for that reason he was obliged +to pay for his passage to the captain, which we were not; as to the +rest, he was as much at a loss as a child what to do with himself, or +with what he had, but by directions. + +Our first business was to compare our stock. He was very honest to me, +and told me his stock was pretty good when he came into the prison, but +the living there as he did in a figure like a gentleman, and, which was +ten times as much, the making of friends, and soliciting his case, had +been very expensive; and, in a word, all his stock that he had left was +£108, which he had about him all in gold. + +I gave him an account of my stock as faithfully, that is to say, of +what I had taken to carry with me, for I was resolved, whatever should +happen, to keep what I had left with my governess in reserve; that in +case I should die, what I had with me was enough to give him, and that +which was left in my governess’s hands would be her own, which she had +well deserved of me indeed. + +My stock which I had with me was £246 some odd shillings; so that we +had £354 between us, but a worse gotten estate was scarce ever put +together to begin the world with. + +Our greatest misfortune as to our stock was that it was all in money, +which every one knows is an unprofitable cargo to be carried to the +plantations. I believe his was really all he had left in the world, as +he told me it was; but I, who had between £700 and £800 in bank when +this disaster befell me, and who had one of the faithfullest friends in +the world to manage it for me, considering she was a woman of manner of +religious principles, had still £300 left in her hand, which I reserved +as above; besides, some very valuable things, as particularly two gold +watches, some small pieces of plate, and some rings—all stolen goods. +The plate, rings, and watches were put in my chest with the money, and +with this fortune, and in the sixty-first year of my age, I launched +out into a new world, as I may call it, in the condition (as to what +appeared) only of a poor, naked convict, ordered to be transported in +respite from the gallows. My clothes were poor and mean, but not ragged +or dirty, and none knew in the whole ship that I had anything of value +about me. + +However, as I had a great many very good clothes and linen in +abundance, which I had ordered to be packed up in two great boxes, I +had them shipped on board, not as my goods, but as consigned to my real +name in Virginia; and had the bills of loading signed by a captain in +my pocket; and in these boxes was my plate and watches, and everything +of value except my money, which I kept by itself in a private drawer in +my chest, which could not be found, or opened, if found, without +splitting the chest to pieces. + +In this condition I lay for three weeks in the ship, not knowing +whether I should have my husband with me or no, and therefore not +resolving how or in what manner to receive the honest boatswain’s +proposal, which indeed he thought a little strange at first. + +At the end of this time, behold my husband came on board. He looked +with a dejected, angry countenance, his great heart was swelled with +rage and disdain; to be dragged along with three keepers of Newgate, +and put on board like a convict, when he had not so much as been +brought to a trial. He made loud complaints of it by his friends, for +it seems he had some interest; but his friends got some check in their +application, and were told he had had favour enough, and that they had +received such an account of him, since the last grant of his +transportation, that he ought to think himself very well treated that +he was not prosecuted anew. This answer quieted him at once, for he +knew too much what might have happened, and what he had room to expect; +and now he saw the goodness of the advice to him, which prevailed with +him to accept of the offer of a voluntary transportation. And after +this his chagrin at these hell-hounds, as he called them, was a little +over, he looked a little composed, began to be cheerful, and as I was +telling him how glad I was to have him once more out of their hands, he +took me in his arms, and acknowledged with great tenderness that I had +given him the best advice possible. “My dear,” says he, “thou has twice +saved my life; from henceforward it shall be all employed for you, and +I’ll always take your advice.” + +The ship began now to fill; several passengers came on board, who were +embarked on no criminal account, and these had accommodations assigned +them in the great cabin, and other parts of the ship, whereas we, as +convicts, were thrust down below, I know not where. But when my husband +came on board, I spoke to the boatswain, who had so early given me +hints of his friendship in carrying my letter. I told him he had +befriended me in many things, and I had not made any suitable return to +him, and with that I put a guinea into his hand. I told him that my +husband was now come on board; that though we were both under the +present misfortune, yet we had been persons of a different character +from the wretched crew that we came with, and desired to know of him, +whether the captain might not be moved to admit us to some conveniences +in the ship, for which we would make him what satisfaction he pleased, +and that we would gratify him for his pains in procuring this for us. +He took the guinea, as I could see, with great satisfaction, and +assured me of his assistance. + +Then he told us he did not doubt but that the captain, who was one of +the best-humoured gentlemen in the world, would be easily brought to +accommodate us as well as we could desire, and, to make me easy, told +me he would go up the next tide on purpose to speak to the captain +about it. The next morning, happening to sleep a little longer than +ordinary, when I got up, and began to look abroad, I saw the boatswain +among the men in his ordinary business. I was a little melancholy at +seeing him there, and going forward to speak to him, he saw me, and +came towards me, but not giving him time to speak first, I said, +smiling, “I doubt, sir, you have forgot us, for I see you are very +busy.” He returned presently, “Come along with me, and you shall see.” +So he took me into the great cabin, and there sat a good sort of a +gentlemanly man for a seaman, writing, and with a great many papers +before him. + +“Here,” says the boatswain to him that was a-writing, “is the +gentlewoman that the captain spoke to you of”; and turning to me, he +said, “I have been so far from forgetting your business, that I have +been up at the captain’s house, and have represented faithfully to the +captain what you said, relating to you being furnished with better +conveniences for yourself and your husband; and the captain has sent +this gentleman, who is mate of the ship, down with me, on purpose to +show you everything, and to accommodate you fully to your content, and +bid me assure you that you shall not be treated like what you were at +first expected to be, but with the same respect as other passengers are +treated.” + +The mate then spoke to me, and, not giving me time to thank the +boatswain for his kindness, confirmed what the boatswain had said, and +added that it was the captain’s delight to show himself kind and +charitable, especially to those that were under any misfortunes, and +with that he showed me several cabins built up, some in the great +cabin, and some partitioned off, out of the steerage, but opening into +the great cabin on purpose for the accommodation of passengers, and +gave me leave to choose where I would. However, I chose a cabin which +opened into the steerage, in which was very good conveniences to set +our chest and boxes, and a table to eat on. + +The mate then told me that the boatswain had given so good a character +of me and my husband, as to our civil behaviour, that he had orders to +tell me we should eat with him, if we thought fit, during the whole +voyage, on the common terms of passengers; that we might lay in some +fresh provisions, if we pleased; or if not, he should lay in his usual +store, and we should have share with him. This was very reviving news +to me, after so many hardships and afflictions as I had gone through of +late. I thanked him, and told him the captain should make his own terms +with us, and asked him leave to go and tell my husband of it, who was +not very well, and was not yet out of his cabin. Accordingly I went, +and my husband, whose spirits were still so much sunk with the +indignity (as he understood it) offered him, that he was scarce yet +himself, was so revived with the account that I gave him of the +reception we were like to have in the ship, that he was quite another +man, and new vigour and courage appeared in his very countenance. So +true is it, that the greatest of spirits, when overwhelmed by their +afflictions, are subject to the greatest dejections, and are the most +apt to despair and give themselves up. + +After some little pause to recover himself, my husband came up with me, +and gave the mate thanks for the kindness, which he had expressed to +us, and sent suitable acknowledgment by him to the captain, offering to +pay him by advance, whatever he demanded for our passage, and for the +conveniences he had helped us to. The mate told him that the captain +would be on board in the afternoon, and that he would leave all that +till he came. Accordingly, in the afternoon the captain came, and we +found him the same courteous, obliging man that the boatswain had +represented him to be; and he was so well pleased with my husband’s +conversation, that, in short, he would not let us keep the cabin we had +chosen, but gave us one that, as I said before, opened into the great +cabin. + +Nor were his conditions exorbitant, or the man craving and eager to +make a prey of us, but for fifteen guineas we had our whole passage and +provisions and cabin, ate at the captain’s table, and were very +handsomely entertained. + +The captain lay himself in the other part of the great cabin, having +let his round house, as they call it, to a rich planter who went over +with his wife and three children, who ate by themselves. He had some +other ordinary passengers, who quartered in the steerage, and as for +our old fraternity, they were kept under the hatches while the ship lay +there, and came very little on the deck. + +I could not refrain acquainting my governess with what had happened; it +was but just that she, who was so really concerned for me, should have +part in my good fortune. Besides, I wanted her assistance to supply me +with several necessaries, which before I was shy of letting anybody see +me have, that it might not be public; but now I had a cabin and room to +set things in, I ordered abundance of good things for our comfort in +the voyage, as brandy, sugar, lemons, etc., to make punch, and treat +our benefactor, the captain; and abundance of things for eating and +drinking in the voyage; also a larger bed, and bedding proportioned to +it; so that, in a word, we resolved to want for nothing in the voyage. + +All this while I had provided nothing for our assistance when we should +come to the place and begin to call ourselves planters; and I was far +from being ignorant of what was needful on that occasion; particularly +all sorts of tools for the planter’s work, and for building; and all +kinds of furniture for our dwelling, which, if to be bought in the +country, must necessarily cost double the price. + +So I discoursed that point with my governess, and she went and waited +upon the captain, and told him that she hoped ways might be found out +for her two unfortunate cousins, as she called us, to obtain our +freedom when we came into the country, and so entered into a discourse +with him about the means and terms also, of which I shall say more in +its place; and after thus sounding the captain, she let him know, +though we were unhappy in the circumstances that occasioned our going, +yet that we were not unfurnished to set ourselves to work in the +country, and we resolved to settle and live there as planters, if we +might be put in a way how to do it. The captain readily offered his +assistance, told her the method of entering upon such business, and how +easy, nay, how certain it was for industrious people to recover their +fortunes in such a manner. “Madam,” says he, “’tis no reproach to any +many in that country to have been sent over in worse circumstances than +I perceive your cousins are in, provided they do but apply with +diligence and good judgment to the business of that place when they +come there.” + +She then inquired of him what things it was necessary we should carry +over with us, and he, like a very honest as well as knowing man, told +her thus: “Madam, your cousins in the first place must procure somebody +to buy them as servants, in conformity to the conditions of their +transportation, and then, in the name of that person, they may go about +what they will; they may either purchase some plantations already +begun, or they may purchase land of the Government of the country, and +begin where they please, and both will be done reasonably.” She bespoke +his favour in the first article, which he promised to her to take upon +himself, and indeed faithfully performed it, and as to the rest, he +promised to recommend us to such as should give us the best advice, and +not to impose upon us, which was as much as could be desired. + +She then asked him if it would not be necessary to furnish us with a +stock of tools and materials for the business of planting, and he said, +“Yes, by all means.” And then she begged his assistance in it. She told +him she would furnish us with everything that was convenient whatever +it cost her. He accordingly gave her a long particular of things +necessary for a planter, which, by his account, came to about fourscore +or a hundred pounds. And, in short, she went about as dexterously to +buy them, as if she had been an old Virginia merchant; only that she +bought, by my direction, above twice as much of everything as he had +given her a list of. + +These she put on board in her own name, took his bills of loading for +them, and endorsed those bills of loading to my husband, insuring the +cargo afterwards in her own name, by our order; so that we were +provided for all events, and for all disasters. + +I should have told you that my husband gave her all his whole stock of +£108, which, as I have said, he had about him in gold, to lay out thus, +and I gave her a good sum besides; so that I did not break into the +stock which I had left in her hands at all, but after we had sorted out +our whole cargo, we had yet near £200 in money, which was more than +enough for our purpose. + +In this condition, very cheerful, and indeed joyful at being so happily +accommodated as we were, we set sail from Bugby’s Hole to Gravesend, +where the ship lay about ten more days, and where the captain came on +board for good and all. Here the captain offered us a civility, which +indeed we had no reason to expect, namely, to let us go on shore and +refresh ourselves, upon giving our words in a solemn manner that we +would not go from him, and that we would return peaceably on board +again. This was such an evidence of his confidence in us, that it +overcame my husband, who, in a mere principle of gratitude, told him, +as he could not be in any capacity to make a suitable return for such a +favour, so he could not think of accepting of it, nor could he be easy +that the captain should run such a risk. After some mutual civilities, +I gave my husband a purse, in which was eighty guineas, and he put in +into the captain’s hand. “There, captain,” says he, “there’s part of a +pledge for our fidelity; if we deal dishonestly with you on any +account, ’tis your own.” And on this we went on shore. + +Indeed, the captain had assurance enough of our resolutions to go, for +that having made such provision to settle there, it did not seem +rational that we would choose to remain here at the expense and peril +of life, for such it must have been if we had been taken again. In a +word, we went all on shore with the captain, and supped together in +Gravesend, where we were very merry, stayed all night, lay at the house +where we supped, and came all very honestly on board again with him in +the morning. Here we bought ten dozen bottles of good beer, some wine, +some fowls, and such things as we thought might be acceptable on board. + +My governess was with us all this while, and went with us round into +the Downs, as did also the captain’s wife, with whom she went back. I +was never so sorrowful at parting with my own mother as I was at +parting with her, and I never saw her more. We had a fair easterly wind +sprung up the third day after we came to the Downs, and we sailed from +thence the 10th of April. Nor did we touch any more at any place, till, +being driven on the coast of Ireland by a very hard gale of wind, the +ship came to an anchor in a little bay, near the mouth of a river, +whose name I remember not, but they said the river came down from +Limerick, and that it was the largest river in Ireland. + +Here, being detained by bad weather for some time, the captain, who +continued the same kind, good-humoured man as at first, took us two on +shore with him again. He did it now in kindness to my husband indeed, +who bore the sea very ill, and was very sick, especially when it blew +so hard. Here we bought in again a store of fresh provisions, +especially beef, pork, mutton, and fowls, and the captain stayed to +pickle up five or six barrels of beef to lengthen out the ship’s store. +We were here not above five days, when the weather turning mild, and a +fair wind, we set sail again, and in two-and-forty days came safe to +the coast of Virginia. + +When we drew near to the shore, the captain called me to him, and told +me that he found by my discourse I had some relations in the place, and +that I had been there before, and so he supposed I understood the +custom in their disposing the convict prisoners when they arrived. I +told him I did not, and that as to what relations I had in the place, +he might be sure I would make myself known to none of them while I was +in the circumstances of a prisoner, and that as to the rest, we left +ourselves entirely to him to assist us, as he was pleased to promise us +he would do. He told me I must get somebody in the place to come and +buy us as servants, and who must answer for us to the governor of the +country, if he demanded us. I told him we should do as he should +direct; so he brought a planter to treat with him, as it were, for the +purchase of these two servants, my husband and me, and there we were +formally sold to him, and went ashore with him. The captain went with +us, and carried us to a certain house, whether it was to be called a +tavern or not I know not, but we had a bowl of punch there made of rum, +etc., and were very merry. After some time the planter gave us a +certificate of discharge, and an acknowledgment of having served him +faithfully, and we were free from him the next morning, to go wither we +would. + +For this piece of service the captain demanded of us six thousand +weight of tabacco, which he said he was accountable for to his +freighter, and which we immediately bought for him, and made him a +present of twenty guineas besides, with which he was abundantly +satisfied. + +It is not proper to enter here into the particulars of what part of the +colony of Virginia we settled in, for divers reasons; it may suffice to +mention that we went into the great river Potomac, the ship being bound +thither; and there we intended to have settled first, though afterwards +we altered our minds. + +The first thing I did of moment after having gotten all our goods on +shore, and placed them in a storehouse, or warehouse, which, with a +lodging, we hired at the small place or village where we landed—I say, +the first thing was to inquire after my mother, and after my brother +(that fatal person whom I married as a husband, as I have related at +large). A little inquiry furnished me with information that Mrs. ——, +that is, my mother, was dead; that my brother (or husband) was alive, +which I confess I was not very glad to hear; but which was worse, I +found he was removed from the plantation where he lived formerly, and +where I lived with him, and lived with one of his sons in a plantation +just by the place where we landed, and where we had hired a warehouse. + +I was a little surprised at first, but as I ventured to satisfy myself +that he could not know me, I was not only perfectly easy, but had a +great mind to see him, if it was possible to so do without his seeing +me. In order to that I found out by inquiry the plantation where he +lived, and with a woman of that place whom I got to help me, like what +we call a chairwoman, I rambled about towards the place as if I had +only a mind to see the country and look about me. At last I came so +near that I saw the dwellinghouse. I asked the woman whose plantation +that was; she said it belonged to such a man, and looking out a little +to our right hands, “there,” says she, “is the gentleman that owns the +plantation, and his father with him.” “What are their Christian names?” +said I. “I know not,” says she, “what the old gentleman’s name is, but +the son’s name is Humphrey; and I believe,” says she, “the father’s is +so too.” You may guess, if you can, what a confused mixture of joy and +fight possessed my thoughts upon this occasion, for I immediately knew +that this was nobody else but my own son, by that father she showed me, +who was my own brother. I had no mask, but I ruffled my hood so about +my face, that I depended upon it that after above twenty years’ +absence, and withal not expecting anything of me in that part of the +world, he would not be able to know anything of me. But I need not have +used all that caution, for the old gentleman was grown dim-sighted by +some distemper which had fallen upon his eyes, and could but just see +well enough to walk about, and not run against a tree or into a ditch. +The woman that was with me had told me that by a mere accident, knowing +nothing of what importance it was to me. As they drew near to us, I +said, “Does he know you, Mrs. Owen?” (so they called the woman). “Yes,” +said she, “if he hears me speak, he will know me; but he can’t see well +enough to know me or anybody else”; and so she told me the story of his +sight, as I have related. This made me secure, and so I threw open my +hoods again, and let them pass by me. It was a wretched thing for a +mother thus to see her own son, a handsome, comely young gentleman in +flourishing circumstances, and durst not make herself known to him, and +durst not take any notice of him. Let any mother of children that reads +this consider it, and but think with what anguish of mind I restrained +myself; what yearnings of soul I had in me to embrace him, and weep +over him; and how I thought all my entrails turned within me, that my +very bowels moved, and I knew not what to do, as I now know not how to +express those agonies! When he went from me I stood gazing and +trembling, and looking after him as long as I could see him; then +sitting down to rest me, but turned from her, and lying on my face, +wept, and kissed the ground that he had set his foot on. + +I could not conceal my disorder so much from the woman but that she +perceived it, and thought I was not well, which I was obliged to +pretend was true; upon which she pressed me to rise, the ground being +damp and dangerous, which I did accordingly, and walked away. + +As I was going back again, and still talking of this gentleman and his +son, a new occasion of melancholy offered itself thus. The woman began, +as if she would tell me a story to divert me: “There goes,” says she, +“a very odd tale among the neighbours where this gentleman formerly +live.” “What was that?” said I. “Why,” says she, “that old gentleman +going to England, when he was a young man, fell in love with a young +lady there, one of the finest women that ever was seen, and married +her, and brought her over hither to his mother who was then living. He +lived here several years with her,” continued she, “and had several +children by her, of which the young gentleman that was with him now was +one; but after some time, the old gentlewoman, his mother, talking to +her of something relating to herself when she was in England, and of +her circumstances in England, which were bad enough, the +daughter-in-law began to be very much surprised and uneasy; and, in +short, examining further into things, it appeared past all +contradiction that the old gentlewoman was her own mother, and that +consequently that son was his wife’s own brother, which struck the +whole family with horror, and put them into such confusion that it had +almost ruined them all. The young woman would not live with him; the +son, her brother and husband, for a time went distracted; and at last +the young woman went away for England, and has never been heard of +since.” + +It is easy to believe that I was strangely affected with this story, +but ’tis impossible to describe the nature of my disturbance. I seemed +astonished at the story, and asked her a thousand questions about the +particulars, which I found she was thoroughly acquainted with. At last +I began to inquire into the circumstances of the family, how the old +gentlewoman, I mean my mother, died, and how she left what she had; for +my mother had promised me very solemnly, that when she died she would +do something for me, and leave it so, as that, if I was living, I +should one way or other come at it, without its being in the power of +her son, my brother and husband, to prevent it. She told me she did not +know exactly how it was ordered, but she had been told that my mother +had left a sum of money, and had tied her plantation for the payment of +it, to be made good to the daughter, if ever she could be heard of, +either in England or elsewhere; and that the trust was left with this +son, who was the person that we saw with his father. + +This was news too good for me to make light of, and, you may be sure, +filled my heart with a thousand thoughts, what course I should take, +how, and when, and in what manner I should make myself known, or +whether I should ever make myself know or no. + +Here was a perplexity that I had not indeed skill to manage myself in, +neither knew I what course to take. It lay heavy upon my mind night and +day. I could neither sleep nor converse, so that my husband perceived +it, and wondered what ailed me, strove to divert me, but it was all to +no purpose. He pressed me to tell him what it was troubled me, but I +put it off, till at last, importuning me continually, I was forced to +form a story, which yet had a plain truth to lay it upon too. I told +him I was troubled because I found we must shift our quarters and alter +our scheme of settling, for that I found I should be known if I stayed +in that part of the country; for that my mother being dead, several of +my relations were come into that part where we then was, and that I +must either discover myself to them, which in our present circumstances +was not proper on many accounts, or remove; and which to do I knew not, +and that this it was that made me so melancholy and so thoughtful. + +He joined with me in this, that it was by no means proper for me to +make myself known to anybody in the circumstances in which we then +were; and therefore he told me he would be willing to remove to any +other part of the country, or even to any other country if I thought +fit. But now I had another difficulty, which was, that if I removed to +any other colony, I put myself out of the way of ever making a due +search after those effects which my mother had left. Again I could +never so much as think of breaking the secret of my former marriage to +my new husband; it was not a story, as I thought, that would bear +telling, nor could I tell what might be the consequences of it; and it +was impossible to search into the bottom of the thing without making it +public all over the country, as well who I was, as what I now was also. + +In this perplexity I continued a great while, and this made my spouse +very uneasy; for he found me perplexed, and yet thought I was not open +with him, and did not let him into every part of my grievance; and he +would often say, he wondered what he had done that I would not trust +him with whatever it was, especially if it was grievous and afflicting. +The truth is, he ought to have been trusted with everything, for no man +in the world could deserve better of a wife; but this was a thing I +knew not how to open to him, and yet having nobody to disclose any part +of it to, the burthen was too heavy for my mind; for let them say what +they please of our sex not being able to keep a secret, my life is a +plain conviction to me of the contrary; but be it our sex, or the man’s +sex, a secret of moment should always have a confidant, a bosom friend, +to whom we may communicate the joy of it, or the grief of it, be it +which it will, or it will be a double weight upon the spirits, and +perhaps become even insupportable in itself; and this I appeal to all +human testimony for the truth of. + +And this is the cause why many times men as well as women, and men of +the greatest and best qualities other ways, yet have found themselves +weak in this part, and have not been able to bear the weight of a +secret joy or of a secret sorrow, but have been obliged to disclose it, +even for the mere giving vent to themselves, and to unbend the mind +oppressed with the load and weights which attended it. Nor was this any +token of folly or thoughtlessness at all, but a natural consequence of +the thing; and such people, had they struggled longer with the +oppression, would certainly have told it in their sleep, and disclosed +the secret, let it have been of what fatal nature soever, without +regard to the person to whom it might be exposed. This necessity of +nature is a thing which works sometimes with such vehemence in the +minds of those who are guilty of any atrocious villainy, such as secret +murder in particular, that they have been obliged to discover it, +though the consequence would necessarily be their own destruction. Now, +though it may be true that the divine justice ought to have the glory +of all those discoveries and confessions, yet ’tis as certain that +Providence, which ordinarily works by the hands of nature, makes use +here of the same natural causes to produce those extraordinary effects. + +I could give several remarkable instances of this in my long +conversation with crime and with criminals. I knew one fellow that, +while I was in prison in Newgate, was one of those they called then +night-fliers. I know not what other word they may have understood it by +since, but he was one who by connivance was admitted to go abroad every +evening, when he played his pranks, and furnished those honest people +they call thief-catchers with business to find out the next day, and +restore for a reward what they had stolen the evening before. This +fellow was as sure to tell in his sleep all that he had done, and every +step he had taken, what he had stolen, and where, as sure as if he had +engaged to tell it waking, and that there was no harm or danger in it, +and therefore he was obliged, after he had been out, to lock himself +up, or be locked up by some of the keepers that had him in fee, that +nobody should hear him; but, on the other hand, if he had told all the +particulars, and given a full account of his rambles and success, to +any comrade, any brother thief, or to his employers, as I may justly +call them, then all was well with him, and he slept as quietly as other +people. + +As the publishing this account of my life is for the sake of the just +moral of very part of it, and for instruction, caution, warning, and +improvement to every reader, so this will not pass, I hope, for an +unnecessary digression concerning some people being obliged to disclose +the greatest secrets either of their own or other people’s affairs. + +Under the certain oppression of this weight upon my mind, I laboured in +the case I have been naming; and the only relief I found for it was to +let my husband into so much of it as I thought would convince him of +the necessity there was for us to think of settling in some other part +of the world; and the next consideration before us was, which part of +the English settlements we should go to. My husband was a perfect +stranger to the country, and had not yet so much as a geographical +knowledge of the situation of the several places; and I, that, till I +wrote this, did not know what the word geographical signified, had only +a general knowledge from long conversation with people that came from +or went to several places; but this I knew, that Maryland, +Pennsylvania, East and West Jersey, New York, and New England lay all +north of Virginia, and that they were consequently all colder climates, +to which for that very reason, I had an aversion. For that as I +naturally loved warm weather, so now I grew into years I had a stronger +inclination to shun a cold climate. I therefore considered of going to +Carolina, which is the only southern colony of the English on the +continent of America, and hither I proposed to go; and the rather +because I might with great ease come from thence at any time, when it +might be proper to inquire after my mother’s effects, and to make +myself known enough to demand them. + +With this resolution I proposed to my husband our going away from where +we was, and carrying all our effects with us to Carolina, where we +resolved to settle; for my husband readily agreed to the first part, +viz. that was not at all proper to stay where we was, since I had +assured him we should be known there, and the rest I effectually +concealed from him. + +But now I found a new difficulty upon me. The main affair grew heavy +upon my mind still, and I could not think of going out of the country +without somehow or other making inquiry into the grand affair of what +my mother had done for me; nor could I with any patience bear the +thought of going away, and not make myself known to my old husband +(brother), or to my child, his son; only I would fain have had this +done without my new husband having any knowledge of it, or they having +any knowledge of him, or that I had such a thing as a husband. + +I cast about innumerable ways in my thoughts how this might be done. I +would gladly have sent my husband away to Carolina with all our goods, +and have come after myself, but this was impracticable; he would never +stir without me, being himself perfectly unacquainted with the country, +and with the methods of settling there or anywhere else. Then I thought +we would both go first with part of our goods, and that when we were +settled I should come back to Virginia and fetch the remainder; but +even then I knew he would never part with me, and be left there to go +on alone. The case was plain; he was bred a gentleman, and by +consequence was not only unacquainted, but indolent, and when we did +settle, would much rather go out into the woods with his gun, which +they call there hunting, and which is the ordinary work of the Indians, +and which they do as servants; I say, he would rather do that than +attend the natural business of his plantation. + +These were therefore difficulties insurmountable, and such as I knew +not what to do in. I had such strong impressions on my mind about +discovering myself to my brother, formerly my husband, that I could not +withstand them; and the rather, because it ran constantly in my +thoughts, that if I did not do it while he lived, I might in vain +endeavour to convince my son afterward that I was really the same +person, and that I was his mother, and so might both lose the +assistance and comfort of the relation, and the benefit of whatever it +was my mother had left me; and yet, on the other hand, I could never +think it proper to discover myself to them in the circumstances I was +in, as well relating to the having a husband with me as to my being +brought over by a legal transportation as a criminal; on both which +accounts it was absolutely necessary to me to remove from the place +where I was, and come again to him, as from another place and in +another figure. + +Upon those considerations, I went on with telling my husband the +absolute necessity there was of our not settling in Potomac River, at +least that we should be presently made public there; whereas if we went +to any other place in the world, we should come in with as much +reputation as any family that came to plant; that, as it was always +agreeable to the inhabitants to have families come among them to plant, +who brought substance with them, either to purchase plantations or +begin new ones, so we should be sure of a kind, agreeable reception, +and that without any possibility of a discovery of our circumstances. + +I told him in general, too, that as I had several relations in the +place where we were, and that I durst not now let myself be known to +them, because they would soon come into a knowledge of the occasion and +reason of my coming over, which would be to expose myself to the last +degree, so I had reason to believe that my mother, who died here, had +left me something, and perhaps considerable, which it might be very +well worth my while to inquire after; but that this too could not be +done without exposing us publicly, unless we went from hence; and then, +wherever we settled, I might come, as it were, to visit and to see my +brother and nephews, make myself known to them, claim and inquire after +what was my due, be received with respect, and at the same time have +justice done me with cheerfulness and good will; whereas, if I did it +now, I could expect nothing but with trouble, such as exacting it by +force, receiving it with curses and reluctance, and with all kinds of +affronts, which he would not perhaps bear to see; that in case of being +obliged to legal proofs of being really her daughter, I might be at +loss, be obliged to have recourse to England, and it may be to fail at +last, and so lose it, whatever it might be. With these arguments, and +having thus acquainted my husband with the whole secret so far as was +needful of him, we resolved to go and seek a settlement in some other +colony, and at first thoughts, Carolina was the place we pitched upon. + +In order to this we began to make inquiry for vessels going to +Carolina, and in a very little while got information, that on the other +side the bay, as they call it, namely, in Maryland, there was a ship +which came from Carolina, laden with rice and other goods, and was +going back again thither, and from thence to Jamaica, with provisions. +On this news we hired a sloop to take in our goods, and taking, as it +were, a final farewell of Potomac River, we went with all our cargo +over to Maryland. + +This was a long and unpleasant voyage, and my spouse said it was worse +to him than all the voyage from England, because the weather was but +indifferent, the water rough, and the vessel small and inconvenient. In +the next place, we were full a hundred miles up Potomac River, in a +part which they call Westmoreland County, and as that river is by far +the greatest in Virginia, and I have heard say it is the greatest river +in the world that falls into another river, and not directly into the +sea, so we had base weather in it, and were frequently in great danger; +for though we were in the middle, we could not see land on either side +for many leagues together. Then we had the great river or bay of +Chesapeake to cross, which is where the river Potomac falls into it, +near thirty miles broad, and we entered more great vast waters whose +names I know not, so that our voyage was full two hundred miles, in a +poor, sorry sloop, with all our treasure, and if any accident had +happened to us, we might at last have been very miserable; supposing we +had lost our goods and saved our lives only, and had then been left +naked and destitute, and in a wild, strange place not having one friend +or acquaintance in all that part of the world. The very thought of it +gives me some horror, even since the danger is past. + +Well, we came to the place in five days’ sailing; I think they call it +Philip’s Point; and behold, when we came thither, the ship bound to +Carolina was loaded and gone away but three days before. This was a +disappointment; but, however, I, that was to be discouraged with +nothing, told my husband that since we could not get passage to +Carolina, and that the country we was in was very fertile and good, we +would, if he liked of it, see if we could find out anything for our +tune where we was, and that if he liked things we would settle here. + +We immediately went on shore, but found no conveniences just at that +place, either for our being on shore or preserving our goods on shore, +but was directed by a very honest Quaker, whom we found there, to go to +a place about sixty miles east; that is to say, nearer the mouth of the +bay, where he said he lived, and where we should be accommodated, +either to plant, or to wait for any other place to plant in that might +be more convenient; and he invited us with so much kindness and simple +honesty, that we agreed to go, and the Quaker himself went with us. + +Here we bought us two servants, viz. an English woman-servant just come +on shore from a ship of Liverpool, and a Negro man-servant, things +absolutely necessary for all people that pretended to settle in that +country. This honest Quaker was very helpful to us, and when we came to +the place that he proposed to us, found us out a convenient storehouse +for our goods, and lodging for ourselves and our servants; and about +two months or thereabouts afterwards, by his direction, we took up a +large piece of land from the governor of that country, in order to form +our plantation, and so we laid the thoughts of going to Carolina wholly +aside, having been very well received here, and accommodated with a +convenient lodging till we could prepare things, and have land enough +cleared, and timber and materials provided for building us a house, all +which we managed by the direction of the Quaker; so that in one year’s +time we had nearly fifty acres of land cleared, part of it enclosed, +and some of it planted with tabacco, though not much; besides, we had +garden ground and corn sufficient to help supply our servants with +roots and herbs and bread. + +And now I persuaded my husband to let me go over the bay again, and +inquire after my friends. He was the willinger to consent to it now, +because he had business upon his hands sufficient to employ him, +besides his gun to divert him, which they call hunting there, and which +he greatly delighted in; and indeed we used to look at one another, +sometimes with a great deal of pleasure, reflecting how much better +that was, not than Newgate only, but than the most prosperous of our +circumstances in the wicked trade that we had been both carrying on. + +Our affair was in a very good posture; we purchased of the proprietors +of the colony as much land for £35, paid in ready money, as would make +a sufficient plantation to employ between fifty and sixty servants, and +which, being well improved, would be sufficient to us as long as we +could either of us live; and as for children, I was past the prospect +of anything of that kind. + +But out good fortune did not end here. I went, as I have said, over the +bay, to the place where my brother, once a husband, lived; but I did +not go to the same village where I was before, but went up another +great river, on the east side of the river Potomac, called Rappahannock +River, and by this means came on the back of his plantation, which was +large, and by the help of a navigable creek, or little river, that ran +into the Rappahannock, I came very near it. + +I was now fully resolved to go up point-blank to my brother (husband), +and to tell him who I was; but not knowing what temper I might find him +in, or how much out of temper rather, I might make him by such a rash +visit, I resolved to write a letter to him first, to let him know who I +was, and that I was come not to give him any trouble upon the old +relation, which I hoped was entirely forgot, but that I applied to him +as a sister to a brother, desiring his assistance in the case of that +provision which our mother, at her decease, had left for my support, +and which I did not doubt but he would do me justice in, especially +considering that I was come thus far to look after it. + +I said some very tender, kind things in the letter about his son, which +I told him he knew to be my own child, and that as I was guilty of +nothing in marrying him, any more than he was in marrying me, neither +of us having then known our being at all related to one another, so I +hoped he would allow me the most passionate desire of once seeing my +one and only child, and of showing something of the infirmities of a +mother in preserving a violent affect for him, who had never been able +to retain any thought of me one way or other. + +I did believe that, having received this letter, he would immediately +give it to his son to read, I having understood his eyes being so dim, +that he could not see to read it; but it fell out better than so, for +as his sight was dim, so he had allowed his son to open all letters +that came to his hand for him, and the old gentleman being from home, +or out of the way when my messenger came, my letter came directly to my +son’s hand, and he opened and read it. + +He called the messenger in, after some little stay, and asked him where +the person was who gave him the letter. The messenger told him the +place, which was about seven miles off, so he bid him stay, and +ordering a horse to be got ready, and two servants, away he came to me +with the messenger. Let any one judge the consternation I was in when +my messenger came back, and told me the old gentleman was not at home, +but his son was come along with him, and was just coming up to me. I +was perfectly confounded, for I knew not whether it was peace or war, +nor could I tell how to behave; however, I had but a very few moments +to think, for my son was at the heels of the messenger, and coming up +into my lodgings, asked the fellow at the door something. I suppose it +was, for I did not hear it so as to understand it, which was the +gentlewoman that sent him; for the messenger said, “There she is, sir”; +at which he comes directly up to me, kisses me, took me in his arms, +and embraced me with so much passion that he could not speak, but I +could feel his breast heave and throb like a child, that cries, but +sobs, and cannot cry it out. + +I can neither express nor describe the joy that touched my very soul +when I found, for it was easy to discover that part, that he came not +as a stranger, but as a son to a mother, and indeed as a son who had +never before known what a mother of his own was; in short, we cried +over one another a considerable while, when at last he broke out first. +“My dear mother,” says he, “are you still alive? I never expected to +have seen your face.” As for me, I could say nothing a great while. + +After we had both recovered ourselves a little, and were able to talk, +he told me how things stood. As to what I had written to his father, he +told me he had not showed my letter to his father, or told him anything +about it; that what his grandmother left me was in his hands, and that +he would do me justice to my full satisfaction; that as to his father, +he was old and infirm both in body and mind; that he was very fretful +and passionate, almost blind, and capable of nothing; and he questioned +whether he would know how to act in an affair which was of so nice a +nature as this; and that therefore he had come himself, as well to +satisfy himself in seeing me, which he could not restrain himself from, +as also to put it into my power to make a judgment, after I had seen +how things were, whether I would discover myself to his father or no. + +This was really so prudently and wisely managed, that I found my son +was a man of sense, and needed no direction from me. I told him I did +not wonder that his father was as he had described him, for that his +head was a little touched before I went away; and principally his +disturbance was because I could not be persuaded to conceal our +relation and to live with him as my husband, after I knew that he was +my brother; that as he knew better than I what his father’s present +condition was, I should readily join with him in such measure as he +would direct; that I was indifferent as to seeing his father, since I +had seen him first, and he could not have told me better news than to +tell me that what his grandmother had left me was entrusted in his +hands, who, I doubted not, now he knew who I was, would, as he said, do +me justice. I inquired then how long my mother had been dead, and where +she died, and told so many particulars of the family, that I left him +no room to doubt the truth of my being really and truly his mother. + +My son then inquired where I was, and how I had disposed myself. I told +him I was on the Maryland side of the bay, at the plantation of a +particular friend who came from England in the same ship with me; that +as for that side of the bay where he was, I had no habitation. He told +me I should go home with him, and live with him, if I pleased, as long +as I lived; that as to his father, he knew nobody, and would never so +much as guess at me. I considered of that a little, and told him, that +though it was really no concern to me to live at a distance from him, +yet I could not say it would be the most comfortable thing in the world +to me to live in the house with him, and to have that unhappy object +always before me, which had been such a blow to my peace before; that +though I should be glad to have his company (my son), or to be as near +him as possible while I stayed, yet I could not think of being in the +house where I should be also under constant restraint for fear of +betraying myself in my discourse, nor should I be able to refrain some +expressions in my conversing with him as my son, that might discover +the whole affair, which would by no means be convenient. + +He acknowledged that I was right in all this. “But then, dear mother,” +says he, “you shall be as near me as you can.” So he took me with him +on horseback to a plantation next to his own, and where I was as well +entertained as I could have been in his own. Having left me there he +went away home, telling me we would talk of the main business the next +day; and having first called me his aunt, and given a charge to the +people, who it seems were his tenants, to treat me with all possible +respect. About two hours after he was gone, he sent me a maid-servant +and a Negro boy to wait on me, and provisions ready dressed for my +supper; and thus I was as if I had been in a new world, and began +secretly now to wish that I had not brought my Lancashire husband from +England at all. + +However, that wish was not hearty neither, for I loved my Lancashire +husband entirely, as indeed I had ever done from the beginning; and he +merited from me as much as it was possible for a man to do; but that by +the way. + +The next morning my son came to visit me again almost as soon as I was +up. After a little discourse, he first of all pulled out a deerskin +bag, and gave it me, with five-and-fifty Spanish pistoles in it, and +told me that was to supply my expenses from England, for though it was +not his business to inquire, yet he ought to think I did not bring a +great deal of money out with me, it not being usual to bring much money +into that country. Then he pulled out his grandmother’s will, and read +it over to me, whereby it appeared that she had left a small +plantation, as he called it, on York River, that is, where my mother +lived, to me, with the stock of servants and cattle upon it, and given +it in trust to this son of mine for my use, whenever he should hear of +my being alive, and to my heirs, if I had any children, and in default +of heirs, to whomsoever I should by will dispose of it; but gave the +income of it, till I should be heard of, or found, to my said son; and +if I should not be living, then it was to him, and his heirs. + +This plantation, though remote from him, he said he did not let out, +but managed it by a head-clerk (steward), as he did another that was +his father’s, that lay hard by it, and went over himself three or four +times a year to look after it. I asked him what he thought the +plantation might be worth. He said, if I would let it out, he would +give me about £60 a year for it; but if I would live on it, then it +would be worth much more, and, he believed, would bring me in about +£150 a year. But seeing I was likely either to settle on the other side +of the bay, or might perhaps have a mind to go back to England again, +if I would let him be my steward he would manage it for me, as he had +done for himself, and that he believed he should be able to send me as +much tobacco to England from it as would yield me about £100 a year, +sometimes more. + +This was all strange news to me, and things I had not been used to; and +really my heart began to look up more seriously than I think it ever +did before, and to look with great thankfulness to the hand of +Providence, which had done such wonders for me, who had been myself the +greatest wonder of wickedness perhaps that had been suffered to live in +the world. And I must again observe, that not on this occasion only, +but even on all other occasions of thankfulness, my past wicked and +abominable life never looked so monstrous to me, and I never so +completely abhorred it, and reproached myself with it, as when I had a +sense upon me of Providence doing good to me, while I had been making +those vile returns on my part. + +But I leave the reader to improve these thoughts, as no doubt they will +see cause, and I go on to the fact. My son’s tender carriage and kind +offers fetched tears from me, almost all the while he talked with me. +Indeed, I could scarce discourse with him but in the intervals of my +passion; however, at length I began, and expressing myself with wonder +at my being so happy to have the trust of what I had left, put into the +hands of my own child, I told him, that as to the inheritance of it, I +had no child but him in the world, and was now past having any if I +should marry, and therefore would desire him to get a writing drawn, +which I was ready to execute, by which I would, after me, give it +wholly to him and to his heirs. And in the meantime, smiling, I asked +him what made him continue a bachelor so long. His answer was kind and +ready, that Virginia did not yield any great plenty of wives, and that +since I talked of going back to England, I should send him a wife from +London. + +This was the substance of our first day’s conversation, the pleasantest +day that ever passed over my head in my life, and which gave me the +truest satisfaction. He came every day after this, and spent a great +part of his time with me, and carried me about to several of his +friends’ houses, where I was entertained with great respect. Also I +dined several times at his own house, when he took care always to see +his half-dead father so out of the way that I never saw him, or he me. +I made him one present, and it was all I had of value, and that was one +of the gold watches, of which I mentioned above, that I had two in my +chest, and this I happened to have with me, and I gave it him at his +third visit. I told him I had nothing of any value to bestow but that, +and I desired he would now and then kiss it for my sake. I did not +indeed tell him that I had stole it from a gentlewoman’s side, at a +meeting-house in London. That’s by the way. + +He stood a little while hesitating, as if doubtful whether to take it +or no; but I pressed it on him, and made him accept it, and it was not +much less worth than his leather pouch full of Spanish gold; no, though +it were to be reckoned as if at London, whereas it was worth twice as +much there, where I gave it him. At length he took it, kissed it, told +me the watch should be a debt upon him that he would be paying as long +as I lived. + +A few days after he brought the writings of gift, and the scrivener +with them, and I signed them very freely, and delivered them to him +with a hundred kisses; for sure nothing ever passed between a mother +and a tender, dutiful child with more affection. The next day he brings +me an obligation under his hand and seal, whereby he engaged himself to +manage and improve the plantation for my account, and with his utmost +skill, and to remit the produce to my order wherever I should be; and +withal, to be obliged himself to make up the produce £100 a year to me. +When he had done so, he told me that as I came to demand it before the +crop was off, I had a right to produce of the current year, and so he +paid me £100 in Spanish pieces of eight, and desired me to give him a +receipt for it as in full for that year, ending at Christmas following; +this being about the latter end of August. + +I stayed here about five weeks, and indeed had much ado to get away +then. Nay, he would have come over the bay with me, but I would by no +means allow him to it. However, he would send me over in a sloop of his +own, which was built like a yacht, and served him as well for pleasure +as business. This I accepted of, and so, after the utmost expressions +both of duty and affection, he let me come away, and I arrived safe in +two days at my friend’s the Quaker’s. + +I brought over with me for the use of our plantation, three horses, +with harness and saddles, some hogs, two cows, and a thousand other +things, the gift of the kindest and tenderest child that ever woman +had. I related to my husband all the particulars of this voyage, except +that I called my son my cousin; and first I told him that I had lost my +watch, which he seemed to take as a misfortune; but then I told him how +kind my cousin had been, that my mother had left me such a plantation, +and that he had preserved it for me, in hopes some time or other he +should hear from me; then I told him that I had left it to his +management, that he would render me a faithful account of its produce; +and then I pulled him out the £100 in silver, as the first year’s +produce; and then pulling out the deerskin purse with the pistoles, +“And here, my dear,” says I, “is the gold watch.” My husband—so is +Heaven’s goodness sure to work the same effects in all sensible minds +where mercies touch the heart—lifted up both hands, and with an ecstacy +of joy, “What is God a-doing,” says he, “for such an ungrateful dog as +I am!” Then I let him know what I had brought over in the sloop, +besides all this; I mean the horses, hogs, and cows, and other stores +for our plantation; all which added to his surprise, and filled his +heart with thankfulness; and from this time forward I believe he was as +sincere a penitent, and as thoroughly a reformed man, as ever God’s +goodness brought back from a profligate, a highwayman, and a robber. I +could fill a larger history than this with the evidence of this truth, +and but that I doubt that part of the story will not be equally +diverting as the wicked part, I have had thoughts of making a volume of +it by itself. + +As for myself, as this is to be my own story, not my husband’s, I +return to that part which related to myself. We went on with our +plantation, and managed it with the help and diversion of such friends +as we got there by our obliging behaviour, and especially the honest +Quaker, who proved a faithful, generous, and steady friend to us; and +we had very good success, for having a flourishing stock to begin with, +as I have said, and this being now increased by the addition of £150 +sterling in money, we enlarged our number of servants, built us a very +good house, and cured every year a great deal of land. The second year +I wrote to my old governess, giving her part with us of the joy of our +success, and order her how to lay out the money I had left with her, +which was £250 as above, and to send it to us in goods, which she +performed with her usual kindness and fidelity, and this arrived safe +to us. + +Here we had a supply of all sorts of clothes, as well for my husband as +for myself; and I took especial care to buy for him all those things +that I knew he delighted to have; as two good long wigs, two +silver-hilted swords, three or four fine fowling-pieces, a fine saddle +with holsters and pistols very handsome, with a scarlet cloak; and, in +a word, everything I could think of to oblige him, and to make him +appear, as he really was, a very fine gentleman. I ordered a good +quantity of such household stuff as we yet wanted, with linen of all +sorts for us both. As for myself, I wanted very little of clothes or +linen, being very well furnished before. The rest of my cargo consisted +in iron-work of all sorts, harness for horses, tools, clothes for +servants, and woollen cloth, stuffs, serges, stockings, shoes, hats, +and the like, such as servants wear; and whole pieces also to make up +for servants, all by direction of the Quaker; and all this cargo +arrived safe, and in good condition, with three woman-servants, lusty +wenches, which my old governess had picked for me, suitable enough to +the place, and to the work we had for them to do; one of which happened +to come double, having been got with child by one of the seamen in the +ship, as she owned afterwards, before the ship got so far as Gravesend; +so she brought us a stout boy, about seven months after her landing. + +My husband, you may suppose, was a little surprised at the arriving of +all this cargo from England; and talking with me after he saw the +account of this particular, “My dear,” says he, “what is the meaning of +all this? I fear you will run us too deep in debt: when shall we be +able to make return for it all?” I smiled, and told him that it was all +paid for; and then I told him, that what our circumstances might expose +us to, I had not taken my whole stock with me, that I had reserved so +much in my friend’s hands, which now we were come over safe, and was +settled in a way to live, I had sent for, as he might see. + +He was amazed, and stood a while telling upon his fingers, but said +nothing. At last he began thus: “Hold, let’s see,” says he, telling +upon his fingers still, and first on his thumb; “there’s £246 in money +at first, then two gold watches, diamond rings, and plate,” says he, +upon the forefinger. Then upon the next finger, “Here’s a plantation on +York River, £100 a year, then £150 in money, then a sloop load of +horses, cows, hogs, and stores”; and so on to the thumb again. “And +now,” says he, “a cargo cost £250 in England, and worth here twice the +money.” “Well,” says I, “what do you make of all that?” “Make of it?” +says he; “why, who says I was deceived when I married a wife in +Lancashire? I think I have married a fortune, and a very good fortune +too,” says he. + +In a word, we were now in very considerable circumstances, and every +year increasing; for our new plantation grew upon our hands insensibly, +and in eight years which we lived upon it, we brought it to such pitch, +that the produce was at least £300 sterling a year; I mean, worth so +much in England. + +After I had been a year at home again, I went over the bay to see my +son, and to receive another year’s income of my plantation; and I was +surprised to hear, just at my landing there, that my old husband was +dead, and had not been buried above a fortnight. This, I confess, was +not disagreeable news, because now I could appear as I was, in a +married condition; so I told my son before I came from him, that I +believed I should marry a gentleman who had a plantation near mine; and +though I was legally free to marry, as to any obligation that was on me +before, yet that I was shy of it, lest the blot should some time or +other be revived, and it might make a husband uneasy. My son, the same +kind, dutiful, and obliging creature as ever, treated me now at his own +house, paid me my hundred pounds, and sent me home again loaded with +presents. + +Some time after this, I let my son know I was married, and invited him +over to see us, and my husband wrote a very obliging letter to him +also, inviting him to come and see him; and he came accordingly some +months after, and happened to be there just when my cargo from England +came in, which I let him believe belonged all to my husband’s estate, +not to me. + +It must be observed that when the old wretch my brother (husband) was +dead, I then freely gave my husband an account of all that affair, and +of this cousin, as I had called him before, being my own son by that +mistaken unhappy match. He was perfectly easy in the account, and told +me he should have been as easy if the old man, as we called him, had +been alive. “For,” said he, “it was no fault of yours, nor of his; it +was a mistake impossible to be prevented.” He only reproached him with +desiring me to conceal it, and to live with him as a wife, after I knew +that he was my brother; that, he said, was a vile part. Thus all these +difficulties were made easy, and we lived together with the greatest +kindness and comfort imaginable. + +We are grown old; I am come back to England, being almost seventy years +of age, husband sixty-eight, having performed much more than the +limited terms of my transportation; and now, notwithstanding all the +fatigues and all the miseries we have both gone through, we are both of +us in good heart and health. My husband remained there some time after +me to settle our affairs, and at first I had intended to go back to +him, but at his desire I altered that resolution, and he is come over +to England also, where we resolve to spend the remainder of our years +in sincere penitence for the wicked lives we have lived. + + WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 1683 + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 370 *** |