by Daniel Defoe
He appear’d surpriz’d, more than ever, and swore, which was the first time that I had heard him swear, from my first knowing him, that he cou’d not have believ’d there was any such Skin, without Paint, in the World: Well, my Lord, said I, Your Highness shall have a farther Demonstration than this; as to that which you are pleas’d to accept for Beauty, that it is the meer Work of Nature; and with that, I stept to the Door, and rung a little Bell, for my Woman, Amy, and bade her bring me a Cup-full of hot Water, which she did; and when it was come, I desir’d his Highness to feel if it was warm; which he did, and I immediately wash’d my Face all over with it, before him; this was, indeed, more than Satisfaction, that is to say, than Believing; for it was an undeniable Demonstration, and he kiss’d my Cheeks and Breasts a thousand times, with Expressions of the greatest Surprize imaginable.
Nor was I a very indifferent Figure as to Shape; tho’ I had had two Children by my Gentleman, and six92 by my true Husband, I say, I was no despisable Shape; and my Prince (I must be allow’d the Vanity to call him so) was taking his View of me as I walk’d from one End of the Room to the other, at last he leads me to the darkest Part of the Room, and standing behind me, bade me hold up my Head, when putting both his Hands round my Neck, as if he was spanning my Neck, to see how small it was, for it was long and small; he held my Neck so long, and so hard, in his Hand, that I complain’d he hurt me a little; what he did it for, I knew not, nor had I the least Suspicion but that he was spanning my Neck; but when I said he hurt me, he seem’d to let go, and in half a Minute more, led me to a Peir-Glass, and behold, I saw my Neck clasp’d with a fine Necklace of Diamonds; whereas I felt no more what he was doing, than if he had really done nothing at-all, nor did I suspect it, in the least: If I had an Ounce of Blood in me, that did not fly up into my Face, Neck, and Breasts, it must be from some Interruption in the Vessels; I was all on fire with the Sight, and began to wonder what it was that was coming to me.
However, to let him see that I was not unqualified to receive Benefits; I turn’d about, My Lord, says I, Your Highness is resolv’d to conquer by your Bounty, the very Gratitude of your Servants; you will leave no room for any thing but Thanks, and make those Thanks useless too, by their bearing no Proportion to the Occasion.
I love, Child, says he, to see every thing suitable; a fine Gown and Petticoat; a fine lac’d Head; a fine Face and Neck, and no Necklace, would not have made the Object perfect: But why that Blush, my Dear, says the Prince? My Lord, said I, all your Gifts call for Blushes; but above all, I blush to receive what I am so ill able to merit, and may become so ill also.
Thus far I am a standing Mark of the Weakness of Great Men, in their Vice; that value not squandring away immense Wealth, upon the most worthless Creatures; or to sum it up in a Word, they raise the Value of the Object which they pretend93 to pitch upon, by their Fancy; I say, raise the Value of it, at their own Expence; give vast Presents for a ruinous Favour, which is so far from being equal to the Price, that nothing will, at last, prove more absurd, than the Cost Men are at to purchase their own Destruction.
I cou’d not, in the height of all this fine doings, I say, I cou’d not be without some just Reflection, tho’ Conscience was, as I said, dumb as to any Disturbance it gave me in my Wickedness; my Vanity was fed up to such a height, that I had no room to give Way to such Reflections.
But I could not but sometimes look back, with Astonishment, at the Folly of Men of Quality, who immense in their Bounty, as in their Wealth, give to a Profusion, and without Bounds, to the most scandalous of our Sex, for granting them the Liberty of abusing themselves, and ruining both.
I, that knew what this Carcass of mine had been but a few Years before; how overwhelm’d with Grief, drown’d in Tears, frighted with the Prospect of Beggery, and surrounded with Rags, and Fatherless Children; that was pawning and selling the Rags that cover’d me, for a Dinner, and sat on the Ground, despairing of Help, and expecting to be starv’d, till my Children were snatch’d from me, to be kept by the Parish; I, that was after this, a Whore for Bread, and abandoning Conscience and Virtue, liv’d with another Woman’s Husband; I, that was despis’d by all my Relations, and my Husband’s too; I, that was left so entirely desolate, friendless, and helpless, that I knew not how to get the least Help to keep me from starving; that I should be caress’d by a Prince, for the Honour of having the scandalous Use of my Prostituted Body, common before to his Inferiours; and perhaps wou’d not have denied one of his Footmen but a little while before, if I cou’d have got my Bread by it.
I say, I cou’d not but reflect upon the Brutallity and Blindness of Mankind; that because Nature had given me a good Skin, and some agreeable Features, should suffer that Beauty to be such a Bait to Appetite, as to do such sordid, unaccountable things, to obtain the Possession of it.
It is for this Reason, that I have so largely set down the Particulars of the Caresses I was treated with by the Jeweller, and also by this Prince; not to make the Story an Incentive to the Vice, which I am now such a sorrowful Penitent for being guilty of, God forbid any shou’d make so vile a Use of so good a Design, but to draw the just Picture of a Man enslav’d to the Rage of his vicious Appetite; how he defaces the Image of God in his Soul; dethrones his Reason; causes Conscience to abdicate the Possession, and exalts Sence94 into the vacant Throne; how he deposes the Man, and exalts the Brute.
O! could we hear now, the Reproaches this Great Man afterwards loaded himself with, when he grew weary of this admir’d Creature, and became sick of his Vice! how profitable would the Report of them be to the Reader of this Story; but had he himself also known the dirty History of my Actings upon the Stage of Life, that little time I had been in the World, how much more severe would those Reproaches have been upon himself; but I shall come to this again.
I liv’d in this gay95 sort of Retirement almost three Years, in which time, no Amour of such a Kind, sure, was every carry’d up so high; the Prince knew no Bounds to his Munificence; he cou’d give me nothing, either for my wearing or using, or eating, or drinking, more than he had done from the Beginning.
His Presents were, after that, in Gold, and very frequent, and large; often a hundred Pistoles, never less than fifty, at a time; and I must do myself the Justice, that I seem’d rather backward to receive, than craving, and encroaching; not that I had not an avaricious Tem per; nor was it, that I did not foresee that this was my Harvest, in which I was to gather up, and that it would not last long; but it was, that really his Bounty always anticipated my Expectations, and even my Wishes; and he gave me Money so fast, that he rather pour’d it in upon me, than left me room to ask it; so that, before I could spend fifty Pistoles, I had always a hundred to make it up.
After I had been near a Year and a half in his Arms, as above, or thereabouts, I prov’d with-Child; I did not take any Notice of it to him, till I was satisfied, that I was not deceiv’d; when one Morning early, when we were in Bed together, I said to him, My Lord, I doubt96 your Highness never gives yourself Leave to think, what the Case should be, if I should have the Honour to be with-Child by you: Why, my Dear, says he, we are able to keep it, if such a thing should happen; I hope you are not concern’d about that: No, my Lord, said I, I should think myself very happy, if I could bring your Highness a Sort, I should hope to see him a Lieutenant-General of the King’s Armies, by the Interest of his Father, and by his own Merit.
Assure yourself, Child, says he, if it shou’d be so, I will not refuse owning him for my Son, tho’ it be, as they call it, a Natural Son; and shall never slight or neglect him, for the sake of his Mother: Then he began to importune me, to know if it was so; but I positively denied it so long, till at last, I was able to give him the Satisfaction of knowing it himself, by the Motion of the Child within me.
He profess’d himself overjoy’d at the Discovery, but told me, that now it was absolutely necessary for me to quit the Confinement, which, he said, I had suffer’d for his sake, and to take a House somewhere in the Country, in or
der for Health, as well as for Privacy, against my Lying-in: This was quite out of my Way; but the Prince, who was a Man of Pleasure, had, it seems, several Retreats of this Kind, which he had made use of, I suppose, upon like Occasions; and so leaving it, as it were, to his Gentleman, he provided a very convenient House, about four Miles South of Paris, at the Village of—, where I had very agreeable Lodgings, good Gardens, and all things very easie, to my Content; but one thing did not please me at all, viz. that an Old Woman was provided, and put into the House, to furnish every thing necessary to my Lying-in, and to assist at my Travel.
I did not like this Old Woman at all; she look’d so like a Spy upon me, or, (as sometimes I was frighted to imagine) like one set privately to dispatch me out of the World, as might best suit with the Circumstance of my Lying-in; and when his Highness came the next time to see me, which was not many Days, I expostulated a little on the Subject of the Old Woman; and by the Management of my Tongue, as well as by the Strength of reasoning, I convinc’d him, that it would not be at all convenient; that it would be the greater Risque on his Side; and that first, or last, it would certainly expose him, and me also; I assur’d him, that my Servant being an English Woman, never knew, to that Hour, who his Highness was; that I always call’d him the Count de Clerac; and that she knew nothing else of him, nor ever should; that if he would give me leave to choose proper Persons for my Use, it shou’d be so order’d; that not one of them should know who he was, or perhaps, ever see his Face; and that for the reallity of the Child that should be born, his Highness, who had alone been at the first of it, should, if he pleas’d, be present in the Room all the Time; so that he would need no Witnesses on that Account.
This Discourse fully satisfied him, so that he order’d his Gentleman to dismiss the Old Woman the same Day; and, without any Difficulty, I sent my Maid Amy to Callais, and thence to Dover, where she got an English Midwife, and an English Nurse, to come over, on purpose to attend an English Lady of Quality, as they stil’d me, for four Months certain: The Midwife, Amy had agreed to pay a hundred Guineas to, and bear her Charges to Paris, and back again to Dover; the poor Woman that was to be my Nurse, had twenty Pounds, and the same Terms for Charges, as the other.
I was very easie when Amy return’d, and the more, because she brought with the Midwife, a good Motherly sort of Woman, who was to be her Assistant, and would be very helpful on Occasion; and bespoke a Man-Midwife at Paris too, if there should be any Necessity for his Help: Having thus made Provision for every thing, the Count, for so we all call’d him in publick, came as often to see me, as I could expect, and continued exceeding kind, as he had always been; one Day, conversing together, upon the Subject of my being with-Child, I told him how all things were in order; but that I had a strange Apprehension that I should die with that Child: He smil’d, So all the Ladies say, my Dear, says he, when they are with-Child: Well, however, my Lord, said I, it is but just, that Care should be taken, that what you have bestow’d in your Excess of Bounty upon me, should not be lost; and upon this, I pull’d a Paper out of my Bosom, folded up, but not seal’d, and I read it to him: Wherein I had left Order, that all the Plate and Jewels, and fine Furniture, which his Highness had given me, should be restor’d to him by my Woman, and the Keys be immediately deliver’d to his Gentleman, in case of Disaster.
Then I recommended my Woman, Amy, to his Favour for a hundred Pistoles, on Condition she gave the Keys up, as above, to his Gentleman, and his Gentleman’s Receipt for them; when he saw this, My Dear Child, said he, and took me in his Arms, What, have you been making your Will, and disposing your Effects? Pray who do you make your universal Heir? So far as to do Justice to your Highness, in case of Mortality, I have, my Lord, said I, and who should I dispose the valuable things to, which I have had from your Hand, as Pledges of your Favour, and Testimonies of your Bounty, but to the Giver of them? If the Child should live, your Highness will, I don’t question, act like yourself in that Part, and I shall have the utmost Satisfaction, that it will be well us’d by your Direction.
I cou’d see he took this very well: I have forsaken all the Ladies in Paris, says he, for you; and I have liv’d every Day since I knew you, to see that you know how to merit all that a Man of Honour can do for you; be easie, Child, I hope you shall not die; and all you have is your own, to do what with it you please.
I was then within about two Months of my Time, and that soon wore off; when I found my Time was come, it fell out very happily, that he was in the House, and I entreated he would continue a few Hours in the House, which he agreed to; they call’d his Highness to come into the Room, if he pleas’d, as I had offer’d, and as I desir’d him, and I sent Word, I would make as few Cries as possible, to prevent disturbing him; he came into the Room once, and call’d to me, to be of good Courage, it wou’d soon be over, and then he withdrew again; and in about half an Hour more, Amy carried him the News, that I was Deliver’d, and had brought him a charming Boy; he gave her ten Pistoles for her News, stay’d till they had adjusted things about me, and then came into the Room again, chear’d me, and spoke kindly to me, and look’d on the Child, then withdrew; and came again the next Day, to visit me.
Since this, and when I have look’d back upon these things with Eyes unpossess’d with Crime, when the wicked Part has appear’d in its clearer Light, and I have seen it in its own natural Colours; when no more blinded with the glittering Appearances, which at that time deluded me, and, as in like Cases, if I may guess at others by myself; too much possess’d the Mind; I say, since this, I have often wonder’d, with what Pleasure, or Satisfaction, the Prince cou’d look upon the poor innocent Infant; which, tho’ his own, and that he might that Way have some Attachment in his Affections to it, yet must always afterwards be a Remembrancer to him of his most early Crime; and which was worse, must bear upon itself, un merited, an eternal Mark of Infamy, which should be spoken of, upon all Occasions, to its Reproach, from the Folly of its Father, and Wickedness of its Mother.
Great Men are, indeed, deliver’d from the Burthen of their Natural Children, or Bastards, as to their Maintenance: This is the main Affliction in other Cases, where there is not Substance sufficient, without breaking into the Fortunes of the Family; in those Cases, either a Man’s legitimate Children suffer, which is very unnatural; or the unfortunate Mother of that illegitimate Birth, has a dreadful Affliction, either of being turn’d off with her Child, and be left to starve, &c. or of seeing the poor Infant pack’d off with a Piece of Money, to some of those She-Butchers,97 who take Children off of their Hands, as ’tis call’d; that is to say, starve ’em, and, in a Word, murther ’em.
Great Men, I say, are deliver’d from this Burthen, because they are always furnish’d to supply the Expence of their Out-of-the-Way Off-spring, by making little Assignments upon the Bank of Lyons, or the Town-House of Paris, and settling those Sums, to be receiv’d for the Maintenance of such Expence as they see Cause.
Thus, in the Case of this Child of mine, while he and I convers’d, there was no need to make any Appointment, as an Appennage, or Maintenance for the Child, or its Nurse; for he supplied me more than sufficiently for all those things; but afterward, when Time, and a particular Circumstance, put an End to our conversing together; as such things always meet with a Period, and generally break off abruptly; I say, after that, I found he appointed the Children a settled Allowance, by an Assignment of annual Rent, upon the Bank of Lyons, which was sufficient for bringing them handsomely, tho’ privately, up in the World; and that not in a Manner unworthy of their Father’s Blood, tho’ I came to be sunk and forgotten in the Case; nor did the Children ever know any-thing of their Mother, to this Day, other, than as you may have an Account hereafter.
But to look back to the particular Observation I was making, which, I hope may be of Use to those who read my Story; I say, it was something wonderful to me, to see this Person so exceedingly delighted at the Birth of this Child, and so pleas’d with it; for he would sit and look at it, and with a
n Air of Seriousness sometimes, a great while together; and particularly, I observ’d, he lov’d to look at it when it was asleep.
It was, indeed, a lovely, charming Child, and had a certain Vivacity in its Countenance, that is, far from being common to all Children so young; and he would often say to me, that he believ’d there was something extraordinary in the Child, and he did not doubt but he would come to be a Great Man.
I could never hear him say so, but tho’ secretly it pleas’d me, yet it so closely touch’d me another Way, that I could not refrain Sighing, and sometimes Tears; and one time, in particular, it so affected me, that I could not conceal it from him; but when he saw Tears run down my Face, there was no concealing the Occasion from him; he was too importunate to be deny’d, in a thing of that Moment; so I frankly answer’d, It sensibly affects me, MY LORD, said I, that whatever the Merit of this little Creature may be, he must always have a Bend98 on his Arms; the Disaster of his Birth will be always, not a Blot only to his Honour, but a Bar to his Fortunes in the World; our Affection will be ever his Affliction, and his Mother’s Crime be the Son’s Reproach; the Blot can never be wip’d out by the most glorious Actions; nay, if it lives to raise a Family, said I, the Infamy must descend even to its innocent Posterity.
