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Chapter 17
Give the goldsmith his due,
he told his story with a great deal of justice and moderation, and the
fellow that had come over, and seized upon me, told his with as much heat
and foolish passion, which did me good still, rather than harm. It came
then to my turn to speak, and I told his worship that I was a stranger
in London, being newly come out of the north; that I lodged in such
a place, that I was passing this street, and went into the goldsmith’s
shop to buy half a dozen of spoons. By great luck I had an old silver spoon
in my pocket, which I pulled out, and told him I had carried that spoon
to match it with half a dozen of new ones,that it might match some I had
in the country.
That seeing nobody I the shop,
I knocked with my foot very hard to make the people hear, and had also
called aloud with my voice; ’tis true, there was loose plate in the shop,
but that nobody could say I had touched any of it, or gone near it; that
a fellow came running into the shop out of the street, and laid hands on
me in a furious manner, in the very moments while I was calling for the
people of the house; that if he had really had a mind to have done his
Neighbour any service, he should have stood at a distance, and silently
watched to see whether I had touched anything or no, and then have clapped
in upon me, and taken me in the fact. ‘That is very true,’ says Mr.
Alderman, and turning to the fellow that stopped me, he asked him if
it was true that I knocked with my foot? He said, yes, I had knocked, but
that might be because of his coming. ‘Nay,’ says the alderman, taking
him short, ‘now you contradict yourself, for just now you said she was
in the shop with her back to you, and did not see you till you came upon
her.’ Now it was true that my back was partly to the street, but yet as
my business was of a kind that required me to have my eyes every way, so
I really had a glance of him running over, as I said before, though he
did not perceive it.
After a full hearing, the alderman
gave it as his opinion that his Neighbour was under a mistake, and that
I was innocent, and the goldsmith acquiesced in it too, and his wife, and
so I was dismissed; but as I was going to depart, Mr. Alderman said,
‘But hold, madam, if you were designing to buy spoons, I hope you
will not let my friend here lose his customer by the mistake.’ I readily
answered, ‘No, sir, I’ll buy the spoons still, if he can match my odd spoon,
which I brought for a pattern’; and the goldsmith showed me some of the
very same fashion. So he weighed the spoons, and they came to five-and-thirty
shillings, so I pulls out my purse to pay him, in which I had near 20 Guineas,
for I never went without such a sum about me, whatever might happen, and
I found it of use at other times as well as now.
When Mr. Alderman saw
my money, he said, ‘Well, madam, now I am satisfied you were wronged,
and it was for this reason that I moved you should buy the spoons, and
stayed till you had bought them, for if you had not had money to pay for
them, I should have suspected that you did not come into the shop with
an intent to buy, for indeed the sort of people who come upon these designs
that you have been charged with, are seldom troubled with much gold in
their pockets, as I see you are.’
I smiled, and told his worship,
that then I owed something of his Favour to my money, but I hoped he saw
reason also in the justice he had done me before. He said, yes, he had,
but this had confirmed his opinion, and he was fully satisfied now of my
having been injured. So I came off with flying Colours, though from an
affair in which I was at the very brink of destruction.
It was but three days after
this, that not at all made cautious by my former danger, as I used to be,
and still pursuing the art which I had so long been employed in, I ventured
into a house where I saw the doors open, and furnished myself, as I though
verily without being perceived, with two pieces of flowered silks, such
as they call brocaded silk, very rich. It was not a mercer’s shop, nor
a warehouse of a mercer, but looked like a private dwelling-house, and
was, it seems, inhabited by a man that sold goods for the weavers to the
mercers, like a broker or factor.
That I may make short of this
black part of this story, I was attacked by two wenches that came open-mouthed
at me just as I was going out at the door, and one of them pulled me back
into the room, while the other shut the door upon me. I would have given
them good words, but there was no room for it, two fiery dragons could
not have been more furious than they were; they tore my clothes, bullied
and roared as if they would have murdered me; the mistress of the house
came next, and then the master, and all outrageous, for a while especially.
I gave the master very good
words, told him the door was open, and things were a temptation to me,
that I was poor and distressed, and poverty was when many could not resist,
and begged him with tears to have pity on me. The mistress of the house
was moved with compassion, and inclined to have let me go, and had almost
persuaded her husband to it also, but the saucy wenches were run, even
before they were sent, and had fetched a constable, and then the master
said he could not go back, I must go before a justice, and answered his
wife that he might come into trouble himself if he should let me go.
The sight of the constable,
indeed, struck me with terror, and I thought I should have sunk into the
ground. I fell into faintings, and indeed the people themselves thought
I would have died, when the woman argued again for me, and entreated her
husband, seeing they had lost nothing, to let me go. I offered him to pay
for the two pieces, whatever the value was, though I had not got them,
and argued that as he had his goods, and had really lost nothing, it would
be cruel to pursue me to death, and have my blood for the bare attempt
of taking them. I put the constable in mind that I had broke no doors,
nor carried anything away; and when I came to the justice, and pleaded
there that I had neither broken anything to get in, nor carried anything
out, the justice was inclined to have released me; but the first saucy
jade that stopped me, affirming that I was going out with the goods, but
that she stopped me and pulled me back as I was upon the threshold, the
justice upon that point committed me, and I was carried to Newgate;
that horrid place! my very blood chills at the mention of its name; the
place where so many of my comrades had been locked up, and from whence
they went to the fatal tree; the place where my mother suffered so deeply,
where I was brought into the world, and from whence I expected no redemption
but by an infamous death: to conclude, the place that had so long expected
me, and which with so much art and success I had so long avoided.
I was not fixed indeed; ’tis
impossible to describe the terror of my mind, when I was first brought
in, and when I looked around upon all the horrors of that dismal place.
I looked on myself as lost, and that I had nothing to think of but of going
out of the world, and that with the utmost infamy: the hellish noise, the
roaring, swearing, and Clamour, the stench and nastiness, and all the dreadful
crowd of afflicting things that I saw there, joined together to make the
place seem an emblem of hell itself, and a kind of an entrance into it.
Now I reproached myself with
the many hints I had had, as I have mentioned above, from my own
reason, from the sense of my good circumstances, and of the many dangers
I had escaped, to leave off while I was well, and how I had withstood them
all, and hardened my thoughts against all fear. It seemed to me that I
was hurried on by an inevitable and unseen fate to this day of misery,
and that now I was to expiate all my Offences at the gallows; that I was
now to give satisfaction to justice with my blood, and that I was come
to the last hour of my life and of my wickedness together. These things
poured themselves in upon my thoughts in a confused manner, and left me
overwhelmed with melancholy and despair.
Then I repented heartily of
all my life past, but that repentance yielded me no satisfaction, no peace,
no, not in the least, because, as I said to myself, it was repenting
after the power of further sinning was taken away. I seemed not to mourn
that I had committed such crimes, and for the fact as it was an Offence
against God and my Neighbour; but I mourned that I was to be punished for
it. I was a penitent, as I thought, not that I had sinned, but that I was
to suffer, and this took away all the comfort, and even the hope of my
repentance in my own thoughts.
I got no sleep for several nights
or days after I came into that wretched place, and glad I would have been
for some time to have died there, though I did not consider dying as it
ought to be considered neither; indeed, nothing could be filled with more
horror to my imagination than the very place, nothing was more odious to
me than the company that was there. Oh! if I had but been sent to any place
in the world, and not to Newgate, I should have thought myself happy.
In the next place, how did the
hardened wretches that were there before me triumph over me! What! Mrs.
Flanders
come to Newgate at last? What! Mrs. Mary, Mrs. Molly,
and after that plain Moll Flanders? They thought the devil had helped
me, they said, that I had reigned so long; they expected me there many
years ago, and was I come at last? Then they flouted me with my dejections,
welcomed me to the place, wished me joy, bid me have a good heart, not
to be cast down, things might not be so bad as I feared, and the like;
then called for brandy, and drank to me, but put it all up to my score,
for they told me I was but just come to the college, as they called
it, and sure I had money in my pocket, though they had none.
I asked one of this crew how
long she had been there. She said four months. I asked her how the place
looked to her when she first came into it. ‘Just as it did now to you,’
says
she, dreadful and frightful’; that she thought she was in hell; ‘and
I believe so still,’ adds she, ‘but it is natural to me now, I don’t
disturb myself about it.’ ‘I suppose,’ says I, ‘you are in no danger
of what is to follow?’ ‘Nay,’ says she, ‘for you are mistaken there,
I assure you, for I am under sentence, only I pleaded my belly, but I am
no more with child than the judge that tried me, and I expect to be called
down next sessions.’ This ‘calling down’ is calling down to their
former judgment, when a woman has been respited for her belly, but proves
not to be with child, or if she has been with child, and has been brought
to bed. ‘Well,’ says I, ‘are you thus easy?’ ‘Ay,’
says she,
‘I can’t help myself; what signifies being sad? If I am hanged, there’s
an end of me,’ says she; and away she turns dancing, and sings as
she goes the following piece of Newgate wit —
If I swing by the string
I shall hear the bell ring.
And then there’s an end of poor Jenny.
I mention this because it would
be worth the observation of any prisoner, who shall hereafter fall into
the same misfortune, and come to that dreadful place of Newgate,
how time, necessity, and conversing with the wretches that are there familiarizes
the place to them; how at last they become reconciled to that which at
first was the greatest dread upon their spirits in the world, and are as
impudently cheerful and merry in their misery as they were when out of
it.
I can not 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 suffers there. But how hell should become by degree so natural,
and not only tolerable, but even agreeable, is a thing unintelligible but
by those who have experienced it, as I have.
The same night that I was sent
to Newgate, I sent the news of it to my old governess, who was surprised
at it, you may be sure, and spent the night almost as ill out of Newgate,
as I did in it.
The next morning she came to
see me; she did what she could to comfort me, but she saw that was to no
purpose; however, as she said, to sink under the weight was but to increase
the weight; she immediately applied herself to all the proper methods to
prevent the effects of it, which we feared, and first she found out the
two fiery jades that had surprised me. She tampered with them, offered
them money, and, in a word, tried all imaginable ways to prevent a prosecution;
she offered one of the wenches 100 l 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 l 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 l. Then she attacked the other maid; she was
not so hard-hearted in appearance as the other, and sometimes seemed inclined
to be merciful; but the first wench kept her up, and changed her mind,
and would not so much as let my governess talk with her, but threatened
to have her up for tampering with the evidence.
Then she applied to the master,
that is to say, the man whose goods had been stolen, and particularly to
his wife, who, as I told you, was inclined at first to have some compassion
for me; she found the woman the same still, but the man alleged he was
bound by the justice that committed me, to prosecute, and that he should
forfeit his Recognizance.
My governess offered to find
friends that should get his Recognizances off of the file, as they call
it, and that he should not suffer; but it was not possible to convince
him that could be done, or that he could be safe any way in the world but
by appearing against me; so I was to have three witnesses of fact against
me, the master and his two maids; that is to say, I was as certain to be
cast for my life as I was certain that I was alive, and I had nothing to
do but to think of dying, and prepare for it. I had but a sad foundation
to build upon, as I said before, for all my repentance appeared to me to
be only the effect of my fear of death, not a sincere regret for the wicked
life that I had lived, and which had brought this misery upon me, for the
offending my Creator, who was now suddenly to be my judge.
I lived many days here under
the utmost horror of soul; I had death, as it were, in view, and thought
of nothing night and day, but of gibbets and halters, evil spirits and
devils; it is not to be expressed by words how I was harassed, between
the dreadful apprehensions of death and the terror of my conscience reproaching
me with my past horrible life.
The ordinary Of Newgate
came to me, and talked a little in his way, but all his divinity ran upon
confessing my crime, as he called it (though he knew not what I was in
for), making a full discovery, and the like, without which he told me God
would never forgive me; and he said so little to the purpose, that I had
no manner of consolation from him; and then to observe the poor creature
preaching confession and repentance to me in the morning, and find him
drunk with brandy and spirits by noon, this had something in it so shocking,
that I began to nauseate the man more than his work, and his work too by
degrees, for the sake of the man; so that I desired him to trouble me no
more.
I know not how it was, but by
the indefatigable application of my diligent governess I had no bill preferred
against me the first sessions, I mean to the grand jury, at GuildHall;
so I had another month or five weeks before me, and without doubt this
ought to have been accepted by me, as so much time given me for reflection
upon what was past, and preparation for what was to come; or, in a word,
I ought to have esteemed it as a space given me for repentance, and have
employed it as such, but it was not in me. I was sorry (as before)
for being in Newgate, but had very few signs of repentance about
me.
On the contrary, like the waters
in the cavities and hollows of mountains, which petrify and turn into stone
whatever they are suffered to drop on, so the continual conversing with
such a crew of hell-hounds as I was, had the same common operation upon
me as upon other people. I degenerated into stone; I turned first stupid
and senseless, then brutish and thoughtless, and at last raving mad as
any of them were; and, in short, I became as naturally pleased and easy
with the place, as if indeed I had been born there.
It is scarce possible to imagine
that our natures should be capable of so much degeneracy, as to make that
pleasant and agreeable that in itself is the most complete misery. Here
was a circumstance that I think it is scarce possible to mention a worse:
I was as exquisitely miserable as, speaking of common cases, it was possible
for any one to be that had life and health, and money to help them, as
I had.
I had weight of guilt upon me
enough to sink any creature who had the least power of reflection left,
and had any sense upon them of the happiness of this life, of the misery
of another; then I had at first remorse indeed, but no repentance; I had
now neither remorse nor repentance. I had a crime charged on me, the punishment
of which was death by our law; the proof so evident, that there was no
room for me so much as to plead not guilty. I had the name of an old offender,
so that I had nothing to expect but death in a few weeks’ time, neither
had I myself any thoughts of escaping; and yet a certain strange lethargy
of soul possessed me. I had no trouble, no apprehensions, no sorrow about
me, the first surprise was gone; I was, I may well say, I know not how;
my senses, my reason, nay, my conscience, were all asleep; my course of
life for forty years had been a horrid complication of wickedness, Whoredom,
adultery, incest, lying, theft; and, in a word, everything but murder and
treason had been my practice from the age of eighteen, or thereabouts,
to three-score; and now I was engulfed in the misery of punishment, and
had an infamous death just at the door, and yet I had no sense of my condition,
no thought of heaven or hell at least, that went any farther than a bare
flying touch, like the stitch or pain that gives a hint and goes off. I
neither had a heart to ask God’s mercy, nor indeed to think of it. And
in this, I think, I have given a brief description of the completest misery
on earth.
All my terrifying thoughts were
past, the horrors of the place were become familiar, and I felt no more
uneasiness at the noise and Clamours of the prison, than they did who made
that noise; in a word, I was become a mere Newgate-bird, as wicked
and as outrageous as any of them; nay, I scarce retained the habit and
custom of good breeding and manners, which all along till now ran through
my conversation; so thorough a degeneracy had possessed me, that I was
no more the same thing that I had been, than if I had never been otherwise
than what I was now.
In the middle of this hardened
part of my life I had another sudden surprise, which called me back a little
to that thing called sorrow, which indeed I began to be past the sense
of before. They told me one night that there was brought into the prison
late the night before three highwaymen, who had committed robbery somewhere
on the road to Windsor, Hounslow-Heath, I think it was, and
were pursu’d to Uxhridge by the country, and were taken there after
a gallant resistance, in which I know not how many of the country people
were wounded, and some killed.
It is not to be wondered that
we prisoners were all desirous enough to see these brave, topping gentlemen,
that were talked up to be such as their fellows
had not been known, and especially because it was said they would in the
morning be removed into the press-yard, having given money to the head
master of the prison, to be allowed the liberty of that better part of
the prison. So we that were women placed ourselves in the way, that we
would be sure to see them; but nothing could express the amazement and
surprise I was in, when the very first man that came out I knew to be my
Lancashire
husband, the same who lived so well at Dunstable, and the same who
I afterwards saw at Brickill, when I was married to my last husband,
as has been related.
I was struck dumb at the sight,
and knew neither what to say nor what to do; he did not know me, and that
was all the present relief I had. I quitted my company, and retired as
much as that dreadful place suffers anybody to retire, and I cried vehemently
for a great while. ‘Dreadful creature that I am,’ said I, ‘how may
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.
