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diff --git a/370-h/370-h.htm b/370-h/370-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0bff216 --- /dev/null +++ b/370-h/370-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,13842 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="utf-8"> +<title>The Fortunes and Misfortunes of the Famous Moll Flanders | Project Gutenberg</title> +<link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg"> +<style> + +body { margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + text-align: justify } + +h1, h2, h3, h4, h5 {text-align: center; font-style: normal; font-weight: +normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: .5em; margin-bottom: .5em;} + +h1 {font-size: 300%; + margin-top: 0.6em; + margin-bottom: 0.6em; + letter-spacing: 0.12em; + word-spacing: 0.2em; + text-indent: 0em;} +h2 {font-size: 175%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} +h3 {font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em;} +h4 {font-size: 120%;} +h5 {font-size: 110%;} + +hr {width: 80%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em;} + +p {text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + +p.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-size: 90%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.letter {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +div.fig { display:block; + margin:0 auto; + text-align:center; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em;} + +a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:hover {color:red} + +</style> + +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 370 ***</div> + +<div class="fig" style="width:70%;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="cover "> +</div> + +<h1>The Fortunes and Misfortunes of the Famous Moll Flanders, &c.</h1> + +<p class="letter"> +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 . . . +</p> + +<h2>by Daniel Defoe</h2> + +<hr> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3>THE AUTHOR’S PREFACE</h3> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<hr> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3> MOLL FLANDERS </h3> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” says I again, very innocently. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, what can you earn?” says she; “what can you get at your +work?” +</p> + +<p> +“Threepence,” said I, “when I spin, and fourpence when I work +plain work.” +</p> + +<p> +“Alas! poor gentlewoman,” said she again, laughing, “what +will that do for thee?” +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +“I will work harder, then,” says I, “and you shall have it +all.” +</p> + +<p> +“Poor child! it won’t keep you,” says she; “it will +hardly keep you in victuals.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then I will have no victuals,” says I, again very innocently; +“let me but live with you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, can you live without victuals?” says she. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” again says I, very much like a child, you may be sure, and +still I cried heartily. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh,” says the sister, “but you will take care not to fancy +one, then, without the money.” +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t know that neither,” says the brother. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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 <i>they</i>?” 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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“Ay!” said I, “does he think I cannot deny him? But he shall +find I can deny him, for all that.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +“’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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, no,” says I pleasantly, “I am not so fond of letting the +secret come out without your consent.” +</p> + +<p> +“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?” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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?” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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?” +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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? +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“Alas,” says the old lady, “that poor girl! I am afraid she will +never be well.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well!” says the elder brother, “how should Mrs. Betty be +well? They say she is in love.” +</p> + +<p> +“I believe nothing of it,” says the old gentlewoman. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, sister, you must acknowledge she is very handsome,” says the +elder brother. +</p> + +<p> +“Ay, and a great deal handsomer than you, sister,” says Robin, +“and that’s your mortification.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“I would she was in love with me,” says Robin; “I’d +quickly put her out of her pain.” +</p> + +<p> +“What d’ye mean by that, son,” says the old lady; “how +can you talk so?” +</p> + +<p> +“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?” +</p> + +<p> +“Fie, brother!”, says the second sister, “how can you talk +so? Would you take a creature that has not a groat in the world?” +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +“I hope not, madam,” says Robin; “no man is lost when a good +wife has found him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, but, child,” says the old lady, “she is a +beggar.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s bad jesting with such things,” says the mother. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t jest, madam,” says Robin. “We’ll come +and beg your pardon, madam; and your blessing, madam, and my +father’s.” +</p> + +<p> +“This is all out of the way, son,” says the mother. “If you +are in earnest you are undone.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, Mrs. Mirth-wit,” says Robin, “Mrs. Betty’s no +fool; but Mrs. Betty may be engaged some other way, and what then?” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” says the eldest sister, “I dare answer for my brother; +he knows the world better.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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— +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“Where love is the case,<br> +The doctor’s an ass.” +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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, +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“A woman’s ne’er so ruined but she can<br> +Revenge herself on her undoer, Man.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +One morning he pulls off his diamond ring, and writes upon the glass of the +sash in my chamber this line— +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“You I love, and you alone.” +</p> + +<p> +I read it, and asked him to lend me his ring, with which I wrote under it, +thus— +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“And so in love says every one.” +</p> + +<p> +He takes his ring again, and writes another line thus— +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“Virtue alone is an estate.” +</p> + +<p> +I borrowed it again, and I wrote under it— +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“But money’s virtue, gold is fate.” +</p> + +<p> +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— +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“I scorn your gold, and yet I love.” +</p> + +<p> +I ventured all upon the last cast of poetry, as you’ll see, for I wrote +boldly under his last— +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“I’m poor: let’s see how kind you’ll prove.” +</p> + +<p> +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— +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“Be mine, with all your poverty.” +</p> + +<p> +I took his pen, and followed him immediately, thus— +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“Yet secretly you hope I lie.” +</p> + +<p> +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— +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“Let love alone be our debate.” +</p> + +<p> +I wrote again— +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“She loves enough that does not hate.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s true,” says I, “but I have a great difficulty +upon me about it, which I scarce know how to manage.” +</p> + +<p> +“What’s that, my dear?” says he. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s is so just,” said I, “and so generous, that it +makes my having but a little a double affliction to me.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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?” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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?” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very just again,” says he; “with all my heart”; so he +wrote down that also, and signed it. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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! +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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:— +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“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.</p> + +<p class="letter">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.</p> + +<p class="letter">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 <i>see you no more</i>. 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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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? +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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?” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s very tedious and expensive,” says he. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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?” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, then,” said he, “I am in earnest; I’ll take your +advice; but shall I ask you one question seriously beforehand?” +</p> + +<p> +“Any question,” said I, “but that you did before.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, that answer will not do,” said he, “for, in short, that +is the question I shall ask.” +</p> + +<p> +“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?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, well,” says he, “I do not banter you, I am in earnest; +consider of it.” +</p> + +<p> +“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?” +</p> + +<p> +“I will be prepared,” says he, “against you come +again.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nay,” says I, “you have forbid my coming any more.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why so?” said he, and looked a little surprised. +</p> + +<p> +“Because,” said I, “you can’t expect I should visit you +on the account you talk of.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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?” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +“But where, then,” said I, “were we to have gone next?” +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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?” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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:— +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“M<small>Y</small> D<small>EAR</small>—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.</p> + +<p class="letter">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.</p> + +<div style="text-align: right; padding-right: 4em;">Adieu, my dear, for ever,</div> + +<div style="text-align: right; padding-right: 1em;">I am, your most affectionately,</div> + +<div style="text-align: right;">J.E.”</div> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +The next day she brought it, and the copy of her three bills was as +follows:— +</p> + +<pre> +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. +</pre> + +<p> + +This was the first bill; the second was the same terms:— + +</p> + +<pre> +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. +</pre> + +<p> + +This was the second-rate bill; the third, she said, was for a degree +higher, and when the father or friends appeared:— + +</p> + +<pre> +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. +</pre> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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?” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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?” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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! +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“’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?” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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?” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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 <i>Gazette</i>, and the horse +described, so that we durst not go to fetch it again. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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— +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“If I swing by the string,<br> +I shall hear the bell ring,<br> +And then there’s an end of poor Jenny.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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” (this was +but a Wednesday); “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.” +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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?” +</p> + +<p> +“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?” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, no,” says he, “I am overpaid. What is the gentlewoman? +Your sister.” +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +“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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +“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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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.” +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<p> +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. +</p> + +<h5> WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 1683 </h5> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 370 ***</div> +</body> + +</html> + diff --git a/370-h/images/cover.jpg b/370-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..010587c --- /dev/null +++ b/370-h/images/cover.jpg |
