.
Chapter 14
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 l, but I let him know that I was not so ignorant as he supposed
I was; and yet I was glad, too, that he offered to bring me to a certainty.
I asked 100 l, and he
rose up to 30 l; I fell to 80 l, and he rose again to 40
l;
in a word, he offered 50 l, and I consented, only demanding a piece
of lace, which I though came to about 8 l or 9 l, as if it
had been for my own wear, and he agreed to it. So I got 50 l in
money paid me that same night, and made an end of the bargain; nor did
he ever know who I was, or where to inquire for me, so that if it had been
discovered that part of the goods were embezzled, he could have made no
challenge upon me for it.
I very punctually divided this
spoil with my governess, and I passed with her from this time for a very
dexterous manager in the nicest cases. I found that this last was the best
and easiest sort of work that was in my way, and I made it my business
to inquire out prohibited goods, and after buying some, usually betrayed
them, but none of these discoveries amounted to anything considerable,
not like that I related just now; but I was willing to act safe, and was
still cautious of running the great risks which I found others did, and
in which they miscarried every day.
The next thing of moment was
an attempt at a gentlewoman’s good watch. It happened in a crowd, at a
meeting-house, where I was in very great danger of being taken. I had full
hold of her watch, but giving a great jostle, as if somebody had thrust
me against her, and in the juncture giving the watch a fair pull, I found
it would not come, so I let it go that moment, and cried out as if I had
been killed, that somebody had trod upon my foot, and that there were certainly
pickpockets
there, for somebody or other had given a pull at my watch; for you are
to observe that on these adventures we always went very well dressed, and
I had very good clothes on, and a gold watch by my side, as like a lady
as other fold.
I had no sooner said so, but
the other gentlewoman cried out ‘A pickpocket’ too, for somebody,
she
said, had tried to pull her watch away.
When I touched her watch I was
close to her, but when I cried out I stopped as it were short, and the
crowd bearing her forward a little, she made a noise too, but it was at
some distance from me, so that she did not in the least suspect me; but
when she cried out ‘A pickpocket,’ somebody cried, ‘Ay, and here
has been another! this gentlewoman has been attempted too.’
At that very instance, a little
farther in the crowd, and very luckily too, they cried out ‘A pickpocket,’
again, and really seized a young fellow in the very act. This, though unhappy
for the wretch, was very opportunely for my case, though I had carried
it off handsomely enough before; but now it was out of doubt, and all the
loose part of the crowd ran that way, and the poor boy was delivered up
to the rage of the street, which is a cruelty I need not describe, and
which, however, they are always glad of, rather than to be sent to Newgate,
where they lie often a long time, till they are almost perished, and sometimes
they are hanged, and the best they can look for, if they are convicted,
is to be transported.
This was a narrow escape to
me, and I was so frighted that I ventured no more at gold watches a great
while. There was indeed a great many concurring circumstances in this adventure
which assisted to my escape; but the chief was, that the woman whose watch
I had pulled at was a fool; that is to say, she was ignorant of the nature
of the attempt, which one would have thought she should not have been,
seeing she was wise enough to fasten her watch so that it could not be
slipped up. But she was in such a fright that she had no thought about
her proper for the discovery; for she, when she felt the pull, screamed
out, and pushed herself forward, and put all the people about her into
disorder, but said not a word of her watch, or of a pickpocket,
for a least two minutes’ time, which was time enough for me, and to spare.
For as I had cried out behind her, as I have said, and bore myself
back in the crowd as she bore forward, there were several people, at least
seven or eight, the throng being still moving on, that were got between
me and her in that time, and then I crying out ‘A pickpocket,’ rather
sooner than she, or at least as soon, she might as well be the person suspected
as I, and the people were confused in their inquiry; whereas, had she with
a presence of mind needful on such an occasion, as soon as she felt the
pull, not screamed out as she did, but turned immediately round and seized
the next body that was behind her, she had infallibly taken me.
This is a direction not of the
kindest sort to the fraternity, but ‘tis certainly a key to the clue of
a pickpocket’s motions, and whoever can follow it will as certainly
catch the thief as he will be sure to miss if he does not.
I had another adventure, which
puts this matter out of doubt, and which may be an instruction for posterity
in the case of a pickpocket. My good old governess, to give a short
touch at her history, though she had left off the trade, was, as I may
say, born a pickpocket, and, as I understood afterwards, had run
through all the several degrees of that art, and yet had never been taken
but once, when she was so grossly detected, that she was convicted and
ordered to be transported; but being a woman of a rare tongue, and withal
having money in her pocket, she found means, the ship putting into Ireland
for provisions, to get on shore there, where she liv’d and practis’d 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 practis’d so long without any misfortune.
It was after those adventures
in Ireland, and when she was pretty well known in that country,
that she left Dublin and came over to England, where, the time of
her transportation being not expired, she left her former trade, for fear
of falling into bad hands again, for then she was sure to have gone to
wreck. Here she set up the same trade she had followed in Ireland,
in which she soon, by her admirable management and good tongue, arrived
to the height which I have already described, and indeed began to be rich,
though her trade fell off again afterwards, as I have hinted before.
I mentioned thus much of the
history of this woman here, the better to account for the concern she had
in the wicked life I was now leading, into all the particulars of which
she led me, as it were, by the hand, and gave me such directions, and I
so well followed them, that I grew the greatest artist of my time and worked
myself out of every danger with such dexterity, that when several more
of my comrades ran themselves into Newgate presently, and by that
time they had been half a year at the trade, I had now Practis’d 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 extrearnest danger.
One of the greatest dangers
I was now in, was that I was too well known among the trade, and some of
them, whose hatred was owing rather to envy than any injury I had done
them, began to be angry that I should always escape when they were always
catch’d and hurried to Newgate. These were they that gave me the
name of Moll Flanders: for it was no more of affinity with my real
name or with any of the name I had ever gone by, than black is of kin to
white, except that once, as before, I called myself Mrs. Flanders,
when I sheltered myself in the Mint; but that these rogues never
knew, nor could I ever learn how they came to give me the name, or what
the occasion of it was.
I was soon informed that some
of these who were gotten fast into Newgate, had vowed to impeach
me; and as I knew that two or three of them were but too able to do it,
I was under a great concern about it, and kept within doors for a good
while. But my governess—whom I always made partner in my success, and who
now played a sure game with me, for that she had a share of the gain and
no share in the hazard—I say, my governess was something impatient
of my leading such a useless, unprofitable life, as she called it; and
she laid a new contrivance for my going abroad, and this was to dress me
up in men’s clothes, and so put me into a new kind of practice.
I was tall and personable, but
a little too smooth-faced for a man; however, I seldom went abroad but
in the night, it did well enough; but it was a long time before I could
behave in my new clothes—I mean, as to my craft. It was impossible to be
so nimble, so ready, so dexterous at these things in a dress so contrary
to nature; and I did everything clumsily, so I had neither the success
nor the easiness of escape that I had before, and I resolved to leave it
off; but that resolution was confirmed soon after by the following accident.
As my governess disguised me
like a man, so she joined me with a man, a young fellow that was nimble
enough at his business, and for about three weeks we did very well together.
Our principal trade was watching shopkeepers’ counters, and slipping off
any kind of goods we could see carelessly laid anywhere, and we made several
good bargains, as we called them, at this work. And as we kept always together,
so we grew very intimate, yet he never knew that I was not a man, nay,
though I several times went home with him to his lodgings, according as
our business directed, and four or five times lay with him all night. But
our design lay another way, and it was absolutely necessary to me to conceal
my sex from him, as appeared afterwards. The circumstances of our living,
coming in late, and having such and such business to do as required that
nobody should be trusted with the coming into our lodgings, were such as
made it impossible to me to refuse lying with him, unless I would have
owned my sex; and as it was, I effectually concealed myself. But his ill,
and my good fortune, soon put an end to this life, which I must own I was
sick of too, on several other accounts. We had made several prizes in this
new way of business, but the last would be extraordinary. There was a shop
in a certain street which had a warehouse behind it that looked into another
street, the house making the corner of the turning.
Through the window of the warehouse
we say, lying on the counter or Show-board which was just before it, five
pieces of silks, besides other stuffs, and though it was almost dark, yet
the people, being busy in the fore-shop with customers, had not had time
to shut up those windows, or else had forgot it.
This the young fellow was so
overjoyed with, that he could not restrain himself. It lay all within his
reach he said, and he swore violently to me that he would have it, if he
broke down the house for it. I dissuaded him a little, but saw there was
no remedy; so he ran rashly upon it, slipped out a square of the sash window
dexterously enough, and without noise, and got out four pieces of the silks,
and came with them towards me, but was immediately pursued with a terrible
clutter and noise. We were standing together indeed, but I had not taken
any of the goods out of his hand, when I said to him hastily, ‘You are
undone, fly, for God’s sake!’ He ran like lightning, and I too, but the
pursuit was hotter after him because he had the goods, than after me. He
dropped two of the pieces, which stopped them a little, but the crowd increased
and pursued us both. They took him soon after with the other two pieces
upon him, and then the rest followed me. I ran for it and got into my governess’s
house whither some quick-eyed people followed me to warmly as to fix me
there. They did not immediately knock, at the door, by which I got time
to throw off my disguise and dress me in my own clothes; besides, when
they came there, my governess, who had her tale ready, kept her door shut,
and called out to them and told them there was no man come in there. The
people affirmed there did a man come in there, and swore they would break
open the door.
My governess, not at all surprised,
spoke calmly to them, told them they should very freely come and search
her house, if they should bring a constable, and let in none but such as
the constable would admit, for it was unreasonable to let in a whole crowd.
This they could not refuse, though they were a crowd. So a constable was
fetched immediately, and she very freely opened the door; the constable
kept the door, and the men he appointed searched the house, my governess
going with them from room to room. When she came to my room she called
to me, and said aloud, ‘Cousin, pray open the door; here’s some gentlemen
that must come and look into your room.’
I had a little girl with me,
which was my governess’s grandchild, as she called her; and I bade her
open the door, and there sat I at work with a great litter of things about
me, as if I had been at work all day, being myself quite undressed, with
only night-clothes on my head, and a loose morning-gown wrapped about me.
My governess made a kind of excuse for their disturbing me, telling me
partly the occasion of it, and that she had no remedy but to open the doors
to them, and let them satisfy themselves, for all she could say to them
would not satisfy them. I sat still, and bid them search the room if they
pleased, for if there was anybody in the house, I was sure they were not
in my room; and as for the rest of the house, I had nothing to say to that,
I did not understand what they looked for.
Every thing looked so innocent
and to honest about me, that they treated me civiller than I expected,
but it was not till they had searched the room to a nicety, even under
the bed, in the bed, and everywhere else where it was possible anything
could be hid. When they had done this, and could find nothing, they asked
my pardon for troubling me, and went down.
When they had thus searched
the house from bottom to top, and then top to bottom, and could find nothing,
they appeased the mob pretty well; but they carried my governess before
the justice. Two men swore that they saw the man whom they pursued go into
her house. My governess rattled and made a great noise that her house should
be insulted, and that she should be used thus for nothing; that if a man
did come in, he might go out again presently for aught she knew, for she
was ready to make oath that no man had been within her doors all that day
as she knew of (and that was very true indeed); that is might be indeed
that as she was above Stairs, any fellow in a fright might find the door
open and run in for shelter when he was pursued, but that she knew nothing
of it; and if it had been so, he certainly went out again, perhaps at the
other door, for she had another door into an alley, and so had made his
escape and cheated them all.
This was indeed probable enough,
and the justice satisfied himself with giving her an oath that she had
not received or admitted any man into her house to conceal him, or protect
or hide him from justice. This oath she might justly take, and did so,
and so she was dismissed.
It is easy to judge what a fright
I was in upon this occasion, and it was impossible for my governess ever
to bring me to dress in that disguise again; for, as I told her, I should
certainly betray myself.
My poor partner in this mischief
was now in a bad case, for he was carried away before my Lord Mayor, and
by his worship committed to Newgate, and the people that took him
were so willing, as well as able, to prosecute him, that they offered themselves
to enter into Recognisances to appear at the sessions and pursue the charge
against him.
However,
he got his indictment deferred, upon promise to discover his accomplices,
and particularly the man that was concerned with him in his robbery; and
he failed not to do his endeavour, for he gave in my name, whom he called
Gabriel
Spencer, which was the name I went by to him; and here appeared the
wisdom of my concealing my name and sex from him, which, if he had ever
known I had been undone.
He did all he could to discover
this Gabriel Spencer; he described me, he discovered the place where
he said I lodged, and, in a word, all the particulars that he could of
my dwelling; but having concealed the main circumstances of my sex from
him, I had a vast advantage, and he never could hear of me. He brought
two or three families into trouble by his endeavouring to find me out,
but they knew nothing of me, any more than that I had a fellow with me
that they had seen, but knew nothing of. And as for my governess, though
she was the means of his coming to me, yet it was done at second-hand,
and he knew nothing of her.
This turned to his disadvantage;
for having promised discoveries, but not being able to make it good, it
was looked upon as trifling with the justice of the city, and he was the
more fiercely pursued by the shopkeepers who took him.
I was, however, terribly uneasy
all this while, and that I might be quite out of the way, I went away from
my governess’s for a while; but not knowing wither to wander, I took a
maid-servant with me, and took the stage-coach to Dunstable to my
old landlord and landlady, where I had lived so handsomely with my Lancashire
husband. Here I told her a formal story, that I expected my husband every
day from Ireland, and that I had sent a letter to him that I would
meet him at Dunstable at her house, and that he would certainly
land, if the wind was fair, in a few days, so that I was come to spend
a few days with them till he should come, for he was either come post,
or in the West Chester coach, I knew not which; but whichsoever
it was, he would be sure to come to that house to meet me.
My landlady was mighty glad
to see me, and my landlord made such a stir with me, that if I had been
a princess I could not have been better used, and here I might have been
welcome a month or two if I had thought fit.
But my business was of another
nature. I was very uneasy (though so well disguised that it was scarce
possible to detect me) lest this fellow should somehow or other find me
out; and though he could not charge me with this robbery, having persuaded
him not to venture, and having also done nothing in it myself but run away,
yet he might have charged me with other things, and have bought his own
life at the expense of mine.
This filled me with horrible
apprehensions. I had no recourse, no friend, no confidante but my old governess,
and I knew no remedy but to put my life in her hands, and so I did, for
I let her know where to send to me, and had several letters from her while
I stayed here. Some of them almost scared me out my wits but at last she
sent me the joyful news that he was hanged, which was the best news to
me that I had heard a great while.
I had stayed here five weeks,
and lived very comfortably indeed (the secret anxiety of my mind excepted);
but when I received this letter I looked pleasantly again, an told my landlady
that I had received a letter from my spouse in Ireland, that I had
the good news of his being very well, but had the bad news that his business
would not permit him to come away so soon as he expected, and so I was
like to go back again without him.
My landlady complimented me
upon the good news however, that I had heard he was well. ‘For I have observed,
madam,’ says she, ‘you hadn’t been so pleasant as you used to be;
you have been over head and ears in care for him, I dare say,’ says
the good woman; ‘’tis easy to be seen there’s an alteration in you
for the better,’ says she. ‘Well, I am sorry the esquire can’t come
yet,’ says my landlord; ‘I should have been heartily glad to have
seen him. But I hope, when you have certain news of his coming, you’ll
take a step hither again, madam,’ says he; ‘you shall be very welcome
whenever you please to come.
With all these fine compliments
we parted, and I came merry enough to London, and found my governess
as well pleased as I was. And now she told me she would never recommend
any partner to me again, for she always found, she said, that I
had the best luck when I ventured by myself. And so indeed I had, for I
was seldom in any danger when I was by myself, or if I was, I got out of
it with more dexterity than when I was entangled with the dull measures
of other people, who had perhaps less forecast, and were more rash and
impatient than I; for though I had as much courage to venture as any of
them, yet I used more caution before I undertook a thing, and had more
presence of mind when I was to bring myself off.
I have often wondered even at
my own hardiness another way, that when all my companions were surprised
and fell so suddenly into the hand of justice, and that I so narrowly escaped,
yet I could not all this while enter into one serious resolution to leave
off this trade, and especially considering that I was now very far from
being poor; that the temptation of necessity, which is generally the introduction
of all such wickedness, was now removed; for I had near 500 l 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 l
beforehand, and when I had no such frightful examples before my eyes as
these were. From hence ’tis evident to me, that when once we are hardened
in crime, no fear can affect us, no example give us any warning.
I had indeed one comrade whose
fate went very near me for a good while, though I wore it off too in time.
That case was indeed very unhappy. I had made a prize of a piece of very
good damask in a mercer’s shop, and went clear off myself, but had
conveyed the piece to this companion of mine when we went out of the shop,
and she went one way and I went another. We had not been long out of the
shop but the mercer missed his piece of stuff, and sent his messengers,
one, one way and one another, and they presently seized her that had the
piece, with the damask upon her. As for me, I had very luckily stepped
into a house where there was a lace chamber, up one pair of stairs, and
had the satisfaction, or the terror indeed, of looking out of the window
upon the noise they made, and seeing the poor creature dragged away in
triumph to the justice, who immediately committed her to Newgate.
I was careful to attempt nothing
in the lace chamber, but tumbled their goods pretty much to spend time;
then bought a few yards of edging and paid for it, and came away very sad-hearted
indeed for the poor woman, who was in tribulation for what I only had stolen.
Here again my old caution stood
me in good stead; namely, that though I often robbed with these people,
yet I never let them know who I was, or where I lodged, nor could they
ever find out my lodging, though they often endeavour’d to watch me to
it. They all knew me by the name of Moll Flanders, though even some
of them rather believed I was she than knew me to be so. My name was public
among them indeed, but how to find me out they knew not, nor so much as
how to guess at my quarters, whether they were at the east end of the town
or the west; and this wariness was my safety upon all these occasions.
I kept close a great while upon
the occasion of this woman’s disaster. I knew that if I should do anything
that should miscarry, and should be carried to prison, she would be there
and ready to witness against me, and perhaps save her life at my expense.
I considered that I began to be very well known by name at the Old Baily,
though they did not know my face, and that if I should fall into their
hands, I should be treated as an old offender; and for this reason I was
resolved to see what this poor creature’s fate should be before I stirred
abroad, though several times in her distress I conveyed money to her for
her relief.
At length she came to her trial.
She pleaded she did not steal the thing, but that one Mrs. Flanders,
as she heard her called (for she did not know her), gave the bundle to
her after they came out of the shop, and bade her carry it home to her
lodging. They asked her where this Mrs. Flanders was, but she could
not produce her, neither could she give the least account of me; and the
mercer’s
men swearing positively that she was in the shop when the goods were stolen,
that they immediately missed them, and pursued her, and found them upon
her, thereupon the jury brought her in guilty; but the Court, considering
that she was really not the person that stole the goods, an inferior assistant,
and that it was very possible she could not find out this Mrs. Flanders,
meaning me, though it would save her life, which indeed was true—I
say, considering all this, they allowed her to be transported, which was
the utmost Favour she could obtain, only that the Court told her that if
she could in the meantime produce the said Mrs.
Flanders, they would
intercede for her pardon; that is to say, if she could find me out, and
hand me, she should not be transported. This I took care to make impossible
to her, and so she was shipped off in pursuance of her sentence a little
while after.
I must repeat it again, that
the fate of this poor woman troubled me exceedingly, and I began to be
very pensive, knowing that I was really the instrument of her disaster;
but the preservation of my own life, which was so evidently in danger,
took off all my tenderness; and seeing that she was not put to death, I
was very easy at her transportation, because she was then out of the way
of doing me any mischief, whatever should happen.
The disaster of this woman was
some months before that of the last-recited story, and was indeed partly
occasion of my governess proposing to dress me up in men’s clothes, that
I might go about unobserved, as indeed I did; but I was soon tired of that
disguise, as I have said, for indeed it exposed me to too many difficulties.
I was now easy as to all fear
of witnesses against me, for all those that had either been concerned with
me, or that knew me by the name of Moll Flanders, were either hanged
or transported; and if I should have had the misfortune to be taken, I
might call myself anything else, as well as Moll Flanders, and no
old sins could be placed into my account; so I began to run a-tick again
with the more freedom, and several successful adventures I made, though
not such as I had made before.
We had at that time another
fire happened not a great way off from the place where my governess lived,
and I made an attempt there, as before, but as I was not soon enough before
the crowd of people came in, and could not get to the house I aimed at,
instead of a prize, I got a mischief, which had almost put a period to
my life and all my wicked doings together; for the fire being very furious,
and the people in a great fright in removing their goods, and throwing
them out of window, a wench from out of a window threw a feather-bed just
upon me. It is true, the bed being soft, it broke no bones; but as the
weight was great, and made greater by the fall, it beat me down, and laid
me dead for a while. Nor did the people concern themselves much to deliver
me from it, or to recover me at all; but I lay like one dead and neglected
a good while, till somebody going to remove the bed out of the way, helped
me up. It was indeed a wonder the people in the house had not thrown other
goods out after it, and which might have fallen upon it, and then I had
been inevitably killed; but I was reserved for further afflictions.
This accident, however, spoiled
my market for that time, and I came home to my governess very much hurt
and bruised, and Frighted to the last degree, and it was a good while before
she could set me upon my feet again.
It was now a merry time of the
year, and Bartholomew Fair was begun. I had never made any walks
that way, nor was the common part of the fair of much advantage to me;
but I took a turn this year into the cloisters, and among the rest I fell
into one of the raffling shops. It was a thing of no great consequence
to me, nor did I expect to make much of it; but there came a gentleman
extremely well dressed and very rich, and as ’tis frequent to talk to everybody
in those shops, he singled me out, and was very particular with me. First
he told me he would put in for me to raffle, and did so; and some small
matter coming to his lot, he presented it to me (I think it was a feather
muff); then he continued to keep talking to me with a more than common
appearance of respect, but still very civil, and much like a gentleman.
He held me in talk so long,
till at last he drew me out of the raffling place to the shop-door, and
then to a walk in the cloister, still talking of a thousand things cursorily
without anything to the purpose. At last he told me that, without compliment,
he was charmed with my company, and asked me if I durst trust myself in
a coach with him; he told me he was a man of Honour, and would not offer
anything to me unbecoming him as such. I seemed to decline it a while,
but suffered myself to be importuned a little, and then yielded.
I was at a loss in my thoughts
to conclude at first what this gentleman designed; but I found afterwards
he had had some drink in his head, and that he was not very unwilling to
have some more. He carried me in the coach to the Spring Garden,
at Knight’s-Bridge, 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 decline it.
Hitherto he kept his word with
me, and offered me nothing amiss. We came away in the coach again, and
he brought me into the streets, and by this time it was near ten o’clock
at night, and he stopped the coach at a house where, it seems, he was acquainted,
and where they made no scruple to show us upstairs into a room with a bed
in it. At first I seemed to be unwilling to go up, but after a few words
I yielded to that too, being willing to see the end of it, and in hope
to make something of it at last. As for the bed, etc., I was not
much concerned about that part.
Here he began to be a little
freer with me than he had promised; and I by little and little yielded
to everything, so that, in a word, he did what he pleased with me; I need
say no more. All this while he drank freely too, and about one in the morning
we went into the coach again. The air and the shaking of the coach made
the drink he had get more up in his head than it was before, and he grew
uneasy in the coach, and was for acting over again what he had been doing
before; but as I thought my game now secure, I resisted him, and brought
him to be a little still, which had not lasted five minutes but he fell
fast asleep.
I took this opportunity to search
him to a nicety. I took a gold watch, with a silk purse of gold, his fine
full-bottom periwig and silver-fringed gloves, his sword and fine snuff-box,
and gently opening the coach door, stood ready to jump out while the coach
was going on; but the coach stopped in the narrow street beyond Temple
Bar to let another coach pass, I got softly out, fastened the door
again, and gave my gentleman and the coach the slip both together, and
never heard more of them.
This was an adventure indeed
unlook’d for, and perfectly undesigned by me; though I was not so past
the merry part of life, as to forget how to behave, when a fop so blinded
by his appetite should not know an old woman from a young. I did not indeed
look so old as I was by ten or twelve years; yet I was not a young wench
of seventeen, and it was easy enough to be distinguished. There is nothing
so absurd, so surfeiting, so ridiculous, as a man heated by wine in his
head, and wicked gust in his inclination together; he is in the possession
of two devils at once, and can no more govern himself by his reason than
a mill can grind without water; his vice tramples upon all that was in
him that had any good in it, if any such thing there was; nay, his very
sense is blinded by its own rage, and he acts absurdities even in his views;
such a drinking more, when he is drunk already; picking up a common woman,
without regard to what she is or who she is, whether sound or rotten, clean
or unclean, whether ugly or handsome, whether old or young, and so blinded
as not really to distinguish. Such a man is worse than a lunatic; prompted
by his vicious, corrupted head, he no more knows what he is doing than
this wretch of mine knew when I picked his pocket of his watch and his
purse of gold.
These are the men of whom Solomon
says, ‘They go like an ox to the slaughter, till a dart strikes through
their liver’; an admirable description, by the way, of the foul
disease, which is a poisonous deadly contagion mingling with the blood,
whose Center or foundation is in the liver; from whence, by the swift circulation
of the whole mass, that dreadful nauseous plague strikes immediately through
his liver, and his spirits are infected, his vitals stabbed through as
with a dart.
It is true this poor unguarded
wretch was in no danger from me, though I was greatly apprehensive at first
of what danger I might be in from him; but he was really to be pitied in
one respect, that he seemed to be a good sort of man in himself; a gentleman
that had no harm in his design; a man of sense, and of a fine Behaviour;
a comely handsome person, a sober solid countenance, a charming beautiful
face, and everything that could be agreeable; only had unhappily had some
drink the night before, had not been in bed, as he told me when we were
together; was hot, and his blood fired with wine, and in that condition
his reason, as it were asleep, had given him up.
As for me, my business was his
money, and what I could make of him; and after that, if I could have found
out any way to have done it, I would have sent him safe home to his house
and to his family, for ’twas ten to one but he had an honest, virtuous
wife and innocent children, that were anxious for his safety, and would
have been glad to have gotten him home, and have taken care of him till
he was restored to himself. And then with what shame and regret would he
look back upon himself! how would he reproach himself with associating
himself with a whore! picked up in the worst of all holes, the cloister,
among the dirt and filth of all the town! how would he be trembling for
fear he had got the pox, for fear a dart had struck through his liver,
and hate himself every time he looked back upon the madness and brutality
of his debauch! how would he, if he had any principles of Honour, as I
verily believe he had—I say, how would he abhor the thought of giving any
ill distemper, if he had it, as for aught he knew he might, to his modest
and virtuous wife, and thereby sowing the contagion in the life-blood of
his Posterity?
Would such gentlemen but consider
the contemptible thoughts which the very women they are concerned with,
in such cases as these, have of them, it would be a surfeit to them. As
I said above, they value not the pleasure, they are raised by no inclination
to the man, the passive jade thinks of no pleasure but the money; and when
he is, as it were, drunk in the ecstasies of his wicked pleasure, her hands
are in his pockets searching for what she can find there, and of which
he can no more be sensible in the moment of his folly that he can fore-think
of it when he goes about it.
I knew a woman that was so dexterous
with a fellow, who indeed deserved no better usage, that while he was busy
with her another way, conveyed his purse with twenty Guineas in it out
of his fob-pocket, where he had put it for fear of her, and put another
purse with gilded counters in it into the room of it. After he had done,
he says to her, now han’t you pick’d my pocket? she jested with him, and
told him she supposed he had not much to lose; he put his hand to his fob,
and with his fingers felt that his purse was there, which fully satisfied
him, and so she brought off his money. And this was a trade with her; she
kept a sham gold watch, that is, a watch of silver gilt, and a purse of
counters in her pocket to be ready on all such occasions, and I doubt not
practiced it with success.
I came home with this last booty
to my governess, and really when I told her the story, it so affected her
that she was hardly able to forbear tears, to know how such a gentleman
ran a daily risk of being undone every time a glass of wine got into his
head.
But as to the purchase I got,
and how entirely I stripped him, she told me it please her wonderfully.
‘Nay child,’ says she, ‘the usage may, for aught I know, do more
to reform him than all the sermons that ever he will hear in his life.’
And if the remainder of the story be true, so it did.
I found the next day she was
wonderful inquisitive about this gentleman; the description I had given
her of him, his dress, his person, his face, everything concurred to make
her think of a gentleman whose character she knew, and family too. She
mused a while, and I going still on with the particulars, she starts up;
says
she, ‘I’ll lay 100 l I know the gentleman.’
‘I am sorry you do,’ says
I, ‘for I would not have him exposed on any account in the world; he has
had injury enough already by me, and I would not be instrumental to do
him any more.’ ‘No, no,’ says she, ‘I will do him no injury, I assure
you, but you may let me satisfy my curiosity a little, for if it is he,
I warrant you I find it out.’ I was a little startled at that, and told
her, with an apparent concern in my face, that by the same rule he might
find me out, and then I was undone. She returned warmly, ‘Why, do
you think I will betray you, child? No, no,’ says she, ‘not for
all he is worth in the world. I have kept your counsel in worse things
than these; sure you may trust me in this.’ So I said no more at that time.
She laid her scheme another
way, and without acquainting me of it, but she was resolved to find it
out if possible. So she goes to a certain friend of hers who was acquainted
in the family that she guessed at, and told her friend she had some extraordinary
business with such a gentleman (who, by the way, was no less than a baronet,
and of a very good family), and that she knew not how to come at him without
somebody to introduce her. Her friend promised her very readily to do it,
and accordingly goes to the house to see if the gentleman was in town.
The next day she come to my
governess and tells her that Sir—was at home, but that he had met with
a disaster and was very ill, and there was no speaking with him. ‘What
disaster?’ says my governess hastily, as if she was surprised at
it. ‘Why,’ says her friend, ‘he had been at Hampstead to
visit a gentleman of his acquaintance, and as he came back again he was
set upon and robbed; and having got a little drink too, as they suppose,
the rogues abused him, and he is very ill.’ ‘Robbed!’ says my governess,
‘and what did they take from him?’ ‘Why,’ says her friend, ‘they
took his gold watch and his gold snuff-box, his fine periwig, and what
money he had in his pocket, which was considerable, to be sure, for Sir—never
goes without a purse of Guineas about him.’
‘Pshaw!’ says my old
governess, jeering, ‘I warrant you he has got drunk now and got a whore,
and she has picked his pocket, and so he comes home to his wife and tells
her he has been robbed. That’s an old sham; a thousand such tricks are
put upon the poor women every day.’
Fye, says her friend,
‘I find you don’t know Sir —; why he is a civil a gentleman, there is not
a finer man, nor a soberer, graver modester person in the whole city; he
abhors such things; there’s nobody that knows him will think such a thing
of him.’ ‘Well, well,’ says my governess, ‘that’s none of my business;
if it was, I warrant I should find there was something of that kind in
it; your modest men in common opinion are sometimes no better than other
people, only they keep a better character, or, if you please, are the better
hypocrites.’
‘No, no,’ says her friend,
‘I can assure you Sir—is no hypocrite, he is really an honest, sober gentleman,
and he has certainly been robbed.’ ‘Nay,’ says my governess, ‘it
may be he has; it is no business of mine, I tell you; I only want to speak
with him; my business is of another nature.’ ‘But,’ says her friend,
‘let your business be of what nature it will, you cannot see him yet, for
he is not fit to be seen, for he is very ill, and bruised very much,’ ‘Ay,’
says
my governess, ‘nay, then he has fallen into bad hands, to be sure,’
And then she asked gravely, ‘Pray, where is he bruised?’ ‘Why, in the head,’
says her friend, ‘and one of his hands, and his face, for they used
him barbarously.’ ‘Poor gentleman,’ says my governess, ‘I must wait,
then, till he recovers’; and adds, ‘I hope it will not be long, for I want
very much to speak with him.’
Away she comes to me and tells
me this story. ‘I have found out your fine gentleman, and a fine gentleman
he was,’ says she; ‘but, mercy on him, he is in a sad pickle now.
I wonder what the d—l you have done to him; why, you have almost killed
him.’ I looked at her with disorder enough. ‘I killed him!’ says I; ‘you
must mistake the person; I am sure I did nothing to him; he was very well
when I left him,’ said I, ‘only drunk and fast asleep.’ ‘I know
nothing of that,’ says she, ‘but he is in a sad pickle now’; and
so she told me all that her friend had said to her. ‘Well, then,’ says
I, ‘he fell into bad hands after I left him,for I am sure I left him
safe enough.’
About ten days after, or a little
more, my governess goes again to her friend, to introduce her to this gentleman;
she had inquired other ways in the meantime, and found that he was about
again, if not abroad again, so she got leave to speak with him.
She was a woman of a admirable
address, and wanted nobody to introduce her; she told her tale much better
than I shall be able to tell it for her, for she was a mistress of her
tongue, as I have said already. She told him that she came, though a stranger,
with a single design of doing him a service and he should find she had
no other end in it; that as she came purely on so friendly an account,
she begged promise from him, that if he did not accept what she should
officiously propose he would not take it ill that she meddled with what
was not her business. She assured him that as what she had to say was a
secret that belonged to him only, so whether he accepted her offer or not,
it should remain a secret to all the world, unless he exposed it himself;
nor should his refusing her service in it make her so little show her respect
as to do him the least injury, so that he should be entirely at liberty
to act as he thought fit.
He looked very shy at first,
and said he knew nothing that related to him that required much secrecy;
that he had never done any man any wrong, and cared not what anybody might
say of him; that it was no part of his character to be unjust to anybody,
nor could he imagine in what any man could render him any service; but
that if it was so disinterested a service as she said, he could not take
it ill from any one that they should endeavour to serve him; and so, as
it were, left her a liberty either to tell him or not to tell, as she thought
fit.
She found him so perfectly indifferent,
that she was almost afraid to enter into the point with him; but, however,
after some other circumlocutions she told him that by a strange and unaccountable
accident she came to have a particular knowledge of the late unhappy adventure
he had fallen into, and that in such a manner, that there was nobody in
the world but herself and him that were acquainted with it, no, not the
very person that was with him.
He looked a little angrily at
first. ‘What adventure?’ said he. ‘Why,’ said she, ‘of your
being robbed coming from Knightsbr—; 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 bride
to conceal them; assure yourself, sir,’ said she, ‘that whatever
you think fit to do or say to me, it shall be all a secret as it is, as
much as if I were in my grave.’
He was astonished at her discourse,
and said gravely to her, ‘Madam, you are a stranger to me, but it is very
unfortunate that you should be let into the secret of the worst action
of my life, and a thing that I am so justly ashamed of, that the only satisfaction
of it to me was, that I thought it was known only to God any my own conscience.’
‘Pray, sir,’ says she, ‘do not reckon the discovery of it to me
to be any part of your misfortune. It was a thing, I believe, you were
surprised into, and perhaps the woman used some art to prompt you to it;
however, you will never find any just cause,’ said she, ‘to repent
that I came to hear of it; nor can your own mouth be more silent in it
that I have been, and ever shall be.’
‘Well,’ says he, ‘but
let me do some justice to the woman too; whoever she is, I do assure you
she prompted me to nothing, she rather declined me. It was my own folly
and madness that brought me into it all, ay, and brought her into it too;
I must give her her due so far. As to what she took from me, I could expect
no less from her in the condition I was in, and to this hour I know not
whether she robbed me or the coachman; if she did it, I forgive her, and
I think all gentlemen that do so should be used in the same manner; but
I am more concerned for some other things that I am for all that she took
from me.’
My governess now began to come
into the whole matter, and he opened himself freely to her. First she said
to him, in answer to what he had said about me, ‘I am glad, sir, you are
so just to the person that you were with; I assure you she is a gentlewoman,
and no woman of the town; and however you prevailed with her so far as
you did, I am sure ’tis not her practice. You ran a great venture indeed,
sir; but if that be any part of your care, I am persuaded you may be perfectly
easy, for I dare assure you no man has touched her, before you, since her
husband, and he has been dead now almost eight years.’
It appeared that this was his
grievance, and that he was in a very great fright about it; however, when
my governess said this to him, he appeared very well pleased, and said,
‘Well, madam, to be plain with you, if I was satisfied of that, I should
not so much value what I lost; for, as to that, the temptation was great,
and perhaps she was poor and wanted it.’ ‘If she had not been poor, sir
—,’ says my governess, ‘I assure you she would never have yielded
to you; and as her poverty first prevailed with her to let you do as you
did, so the same poverty prevailed with her to pay herself at last, when
she saw you was in such a condition, that if she had not done it, perhaps
the next coachman might have done it.’
‘Well,’ says he, ‘much
good may it do her. I say again, all the gentlemen that do so ought to
be used in the same manner, and then they would be cautious of themselves.
I have no more concern about it, but on the score which you hinted at before,
madam.’ Here he entered into some freedoms with her on the subject of what
passed between us, which are not so proper for a woman to write, and the
great terror that was upon his mind with relation to his wife, for fear
he should have received any injury from me, and should communicate if 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 save in that respect as
he was with his own lady; but as for seeing me, she said it might be of
dangerous consequence; but, however, that she would talk with me, and let
him
know my answer, using at the same time some arguments to persuade him not
to desire it, and that it could be of no service to him, seeing she hoped
he had no desire to renew a correspondence with me, and that on my account
it was a kind of putting my life in his hands.
He told her he had a great desire
to see me, that he would give her any assurances that were in his power,
not to take any advantages of me, and that in the first place he would
give me a general release from all demands of any kind. She insisted how
it might tend to a further divulging the secret, and might in the end be
injurious to him, entreating him not to press for it; so at length he desisted.
They had some discourse upon
the subject of the things he had lost, and he seemed to be very desirous
of his gold watch, and told her if she could procure that for him, he would
willingly give as much for it as it was worth. She told him she would endeavour
to procure it for him, and leave the valuing it to himself.
Accordingly the next day she
carried the watch, and he gave her 30 Guineas for it, which was more than
I should have been able to make of it, though it seems it cost much more.
He spoke something of his periwig, which it seems cost him threescore Guineas,
and his snuff-box, and in a few days more she carried them too; which obliged
him very much, and he gave her thirty more. The next day I sent him his
fine sword and cane gratis, and demanded nothing of him, but I had
no mind to see him, unless it had been so that he might be satisfied I
knew who he was, which he was not willing to.
Then he entered into a long
talk with her of the manner how she came to know all this matter. She formed
a long tale of that part; how she had it from one that I had told the whole
story to, and that was to help me dispose of the goods; and this confidante
brought the things to her, she being by profession a pawnbroker;
and she hearing of his worship’s disaster, guessed at the thing in general;
that having gotten the things into her hands, she had resolved to come
and try as she had done. She then gave him repeated assurances that it
should never go out of her mouth, and though she knew the woman very well,
yet she had not let her know, meaning me, anything of it; that
is to say, who the person was, which, by the way, was false; but, however,
it was not to his damage, for I never opened my mouth of it to any Body.
