by Daniel Defoe
Amy went farther; she pray’d, she resolv’d, she vow’d to lead a new Life, if God wou’d spare her but this time: It now began to be Day-light, for the Storm held all Nightlong, and it was some Comfort to see the Light of another Day, which indeed, none of us expected; but the Sea went Mountains high, and the Noise of the Water was as frightful to us, as the Sight of the Waves; nor was any Land to be seen; nor did the Seamen know whereabout they were; at last, to our great Joy, they made Land, which was in England, and on the Coast of Suffolk; and the Ship being in the utmost Distress, they ran for the Shore, at all Hazards, and with great Difficulty, got into Harwich, where they were safe, as to the Danger of Death; but the Ship was so full of Water, and so much damag’d, that if they had not laid her on Shore the same Day, she wou’d have sunk before Night, according to the Opinion of the Seamen, and of the Workmen on Shore too, who were hir’d to assist them in stopping their Leaks.
Amy was reviv’d as soon as she heard they had espy’d Land, and went out upon the Deck, but she soon came in again to me, O Madam; says she, there’s the Land indeed, to be seen, it looks like a Ridge of Clouds, and may be all a Cloud, for ought I know, but if it be Land, ’tis a great Way off; and the Sea is in such a Combustion, we shall all perish before we can reach it; ’tis the dreadfulltst Sight, to look at the Waves, that ever was seen; why, they are as high as Mountains; we shall certainly be all swallow’d up, for-all the Land is so near.
I had conceiv’d some Hope, that if they saw Land, we should be deliver’d; and I told her, she did not understand things of that Nature; that she might be sure, if they saw Land, they would go directly towards it, and wou’d make into some Harbour; but it was, as Amy said, a frightful Distance to it: The Land look’d like Clouds, and the Sea went as high as Mountains, so that no Hope appear’d in the seeing the Land; but we were in fear of foundring, before we cou’d reach it; this made Amy so desponding still; but as the Wind, which blew from the East, or that Way, drove us furiously towards the Land; so when, about half an Hour after, I stept to the Steerage-Door, and look’d-out, I saw the Land much nearer than Amy represented it; so I went in, and encourag’d Amy again, and indeed, was encourag’d myself.
In about an Hour, or something more, we see, to our infinite Satisfaction, the open Harbour of Harwich, and the Vessel standing directly towards it, and in a few Minutes more, the Ship was in smooth Water, to our inexpressible Comfort; and thus I had, tho’ against my Will, and contrary to my true Interest, what I wish’d for, to be driven away to England, tho’ it was by a Storm.
Nor did this Incident do either Amy or me much Service; for the Danger being over, the Fears of Death vanish’d with it; ay, and our Fear of what was beyond Death also; our Sence of the Life we had liv’d, went off, and with our return to Life, our wicked Taste of Life return’d, and we were both the same as before, if not worse: So certain is it, that the Repentance which is brought about by the meer Apprehensions of Death, wears off as those Apprehensions wear off; and Death-bed Repentance, or Storm-Repentence, which is much the same, is seldom true.
However, I do not tell you, that this was all at once, neither; the Fright we had at Sea lasted a little while afterwards, at least, the Impression was not quite blown off, as soon as the Storm; expecially poor Amy, as soon as she set her Foot on Shore, she fell flat upon the Ground, and kiss’d it, and gave God thanks for her Deliverance from the Sea; and turning to me when she got up, I hope, Madam, says she, you will never go upon the Sea again.
I know not what ail’d me, not I; but Amy was much more penitent at Sea, and much more sensible of her Deliverance when she Landed, and was safe, than I was; I was in a kind of Stupidity,137 I know not well what to call it; I had a Mind full of Horrour in the time of the Storm, and saw Death before me, as plainly as Amy, but my Thoughts got no Vent, as Amy’s did; I had a silent sullen kind of Grief, which cou’d not break out either in Words or Tears, and which was, therefore, much the worse to bear.
I had Terror upon me for my wicked Life past, and firmly believe’d I was going to the Bottom, launching into Death, where I was to give an Account of all my past Actions; and in this State, and on that Account, I look’d back upon my Wickedness with Abhorrence, as I have said above; but I had no Sence of Repentance, from the true Motive of Repentance; I saw nothing of the Corruption of Nature, the Sin of my Life, as an Offence against God; as a thing odious to the Holiness of his Being; as abusing his Mercy, and despising his Goodness; in short, I had no thorow effectual Repentance; no Sight of my Sins in their proper Shape; no View of a Redeemer, or Hope in him: I had only such a Repentance as a Criminal has at the Place of Execution, who is sorry, not that he has committed the Crime, as it is a Crime, but sorry that he is to be Hang’d for it.
It is true, Amy’s Repentence wore off too, as well as mine, but not so soon; however, we were both very grave for a time.
As soon as we could get a Boat from the Town, we went on Shore, and immediately went to a Publick-House in the Town of Harwich; where we were to consider seriously, what was to be done, and whether we should go up to London, or stay till the Ship was refitted, which, they said, would be Fortnight, and then go for Holland, as we intended, and as Business requir’d.
Reason directed that I shou’d go to Holland, for there I had all my Money to receive, and there I had Persons of good Reputation and Character, to apply to, having Letters to them from the honest Dutch Merchant at Paris, and they might, perhaps, give me a Recommendation again, to Merchants in London, and so I should get Aquaintance with some People of Figure, which was what I lov’d; whereas now I knew not one Creature in the whole City of London, or any-where else, that I cou’d go and make myself known to: Upon these Considerations, I resolv’d to go to Holland, whatever came on it.
But Amy cry’d and trembled, and was ready to fall into Fits, when I did but mention going upon the Sea again, and begg’d of me, not to go, or if I wou’d go, that I wou’d leave her behind, tho’ I was to send her a-begging; the People in the Inn laugh’d at her, and jested with her; ask’d her, if she had any Sins to confess, that she was asham’d shou’d be heard of? and that she was troubled with an evil Conscience; told her, if she came to Sea, and to be in a Storm, if she had lain with her Master, she wou’d certainly tell her Mistress of it; and that it was a common thing, for poor Maids to confess all the Young-Men they had lain with; that there was one poor Girl that went over with her Mistress, whose Husband was a —r, in —, in the City of London, who confess’d, in the Terror of a Storm, that she had lain with her Master, and all the Apprentices so often, and in such and such Places, and made the poor Mistress, when she return’d to London, fly at her Husband, and make such a Stir, as was indeed, the Ruin of the whole Family: Amy cou’d bear all that well enough; for tho’ she had indeed, lain with her Master, it was with her Mistress’s Knowledge and Consent, and which was worse, was her Mistress’s own doing; I record it to the Reproach of my own Vice, and to expose the Excesses of such Wickedness, as they deserve to be expos’d.
I thought Amy’s Fear would have been over by that time the Ship would be gotten ready, but I found the Girl was rather worse and worse; and when I came to the Point, that we must go on Board, or lose the Passage, Amy was so terrified, that she fell into Fits, so the Ship went away without us.
But my going being absolutely necessary, as above, I was oblig’d to go in the Packet-Boat some time after, and leave Amy behind, at Harwich, but with Directions to go to London, and stay there, to receive Letters and Orders from me what to do: Now I was become, from a Lady of Pleasure, a Woman of Business, and of great Business too, I assure you.
I got me a Servant at Harwich, to go over with me, who had been at Rotterdam, knew the Place, and spoke the Language, which was a great Help to me, and away I went; I had a very quick Passage, and pleasant Weather, and coming to Rotterdam, soon found out the Merchant to whom I was recommended, who receiv’d me with extraordinary Respect; and first he acknowledg’d the accepted Bill for 4000 Pistoles, which he
afterwards paid punctually; other Bills that I had also payable at Amsterdam, he procur’d to be receiv’d for me; and whereas one of the Bills for a Thousand two Hundred Crowns,138 was protested139 at Amsterdam, he paid it me himself, for the Honour of the Endorser, as he called it, which was my Friend, the Merchant at Paris.
There I enter’d into a Negociation, by his Means, for my Jewels, and he brought me several Jewellers, to look on them, and particularly, one to Value them, and to tell me what every Particular was worth: This was a Man who had great Skill in Jewels, but did not Trade at that time; and he was desir’d by the Gentleman that I was with, to see that I might not be impos’d upon.
All this Work took me up near half a Year, and by managing my Business thus myself, and having large Sums to do with, I became as expert in it, as any She-Merchant of them all; I had Credit in the Bank for a large Sum of Money, and Bills and Notes for much more.
After I had been here about three Months, my Maid Amy writes me word, that she had receiv’d a Letter from her Friend, as she call’d him, that, by the way, was the Prince’s Gentleman, that had been Amy’s extraordinary Friend indeed; for Amy own’d to me, he had lain with her a hundred times; that is to say, as often as he pleas’d; and perhaps, in the eight Year which that Affair lasted, it might be a great deal oftner: This was what she call’d her Friend, who she corresponded with upon this particular Subject; and among other things, sent her this particular News, that my extraordinary Friend, my real Husband, who rode in the Gensd’arms, was dead; that he was kill’d in a Rencounter, as they call it, or accidental Scuffle among the Troopers; and so the Jade congratulated me upon my being now a real Free-Woman; and now, Madam, says she, at the End of her Letter, you have nothing to do but to come hither, and set up a Coach, and a good Equipage; and if Beauty and a good Fortune won’t make you a Dutchess, nothing will; but I had not fix’d my Measures yet; I had no Inclination to be a Wife again, I had had such bad Luck with my first Husband, I hated the Thoughts of it; I found, that a Wife is treated with Indifference, a Mistress with a strong Passion; a Wife is look’d upon, as but an Upper-Servant,140 a Mistress is a Sovereign; a Wife must give up all she has; have every Reserve she makes for herself, be thought hard of, and be upbraided with her very Pin-Money;141 whereas a Mistress makes the Saying true, that what the Man has, is hers, and what she has, is her own; the Wife bears a thousand Insults, and is forc’d to sit still and bear it, or part and be undone; a Mistress insulted, helps herself immediately, and takes another.
These were many wicked Arguments for Whoring, for I never set against them the Difference another way, I may say, every other way; how that, FIRST, A Wife appears boldly and honourably with her Husband; lives at Home, and possesses his House, his Servants, his Equipages, and has a Right to them all, and to call them her own; entertains his Friends, owns his Children, and has the return of Duty and Affection from them, as they are here her own, and claims upon his Estate, by the Custom of England, if he dies, and leaves her a Widow.
The Whore sculks about in Lodgings; is visited in the dark; disown’d upon all Occasions, before God and Man; is maintain’d indeed, for a time; but is certainly con-demn’d to be abandon’d at last, and left to the Miseries of Fate, and her own just Disaster: If she has any Children, her Endeavour is to get rid of them, and not maintain them; and if she lives, she is certain to see them all hate her, and be asham’d of her; while the Vice rages, and the Man is in the Devil’s Hand, she has him; and while she has him, she makes a Prey of him;, but if he happens to fall Sick; if any Disaster befals him, the Cause of all lies upon her; he is sure to lay all his Misfortunes at her Door; and if once he comes to Repentance, or makes but one Step towards a Reformation, he begins with her; leaves her; uses her as she deserves; hates her; abhors her; and sees her no more; and that with this never-failing Addition, namely, That the more sincere and unfeign’d his Repentance is, the more earnestly he looks up; and the more effectually he looks in, the more his Aversion to her, encreases; and he curses her from the Bottom of his Soul; nay, it must be from a kind of Excess of Charity, if he so much as wishes God may forgive her.
The opposite Circumstances of a Wife and Whore, are such, and so many, and I have since seen the Difference with such Eyes, as I cou’d dwell upon the Subject a great-while; but my Business is History; I had a long Scene of Folly yet to run over; perhaps the Moral of all my Story may bring me back-again to this Part, and if it does, I shall speak of it fully.
While I continued in Holland, I receiv’d several Letters from my Friend, (so I had good Reason to call him) the Merchant in Paris; in which he gave me a farther Account of the Conduct of that Rogue, the Jew, and how he acted after I was gone; how Impatient he was while the said Merchant kept him in suspence, expecting me to come again; and how he rag’d when he found I came no more.
It seems, after he found I did not come, he found out, by his unweary’d Enquiry, where I had liv’d; and that I had been kept as a Mistress, by some Great Person, but he cou’d never learn by who, except that, he learnt the Colour of his Livery; in Pursuit of this Enquiry, he guess’d at the right Person, but cou’d not make it out, or offer any positive Proof of it; but he found out the Prince’s Gentleman, and talk’d so saucily to him of it, that the Gentleman treated him, as the French call it, au Coup de Batton; that is to say, Can’d him very severly, as he deserv’d; and that not satisfying him, or curing his Insolence, he was met one Night late, upon the Pont Neuf in Paris, by two Men, who muffling him up in a great Cloak, carried him into a more private Place, and cut off both his Ears, telling him, It was for talking impudently of his Superiours; adding, that he shou’d take Care to govern his Tongue better, and behave with more Manners, or the next time they would cut his Tongue out of his Head.
This put a Check to his Sauciness that Way; but he comes back to the Merchant, and threatened to begin a Process against him, for corresponding with me, and being accessary to the Murther of the Jeweller, &c.
The Merchant found by his Discourse, that he suppos’d I was protected by the said Prince de —, nay, the Rogue said, he was sure I was in his Lodgings at Versailles; for he never had so much as the least Intimation of the Way I was really gone; but that I was there, he was certain, and certain that the Merchant was privy to it: The Merchant bade him Defiance; however, he gave him a great deal of Trouble, and put him to a great Charge, and had like to have brought him in for a Party to my Escape, in which Case, he wou’d have been oblig’d to have produc’d me, and that in the Penalty of some capital Sum of Money.
But the Merchant was too-many for him another Way; for he brought an Information against him for a Cheat; wherein, laying down the whole Fact, How he intended falsly to accuse the Widow of the Jeweller, for the suppos’d Murther of her Husband; that he did it purely to get the Jewels from her; and that he offer’d to bring him [the Merchant] in, to be Confederate with him, and to share the Jewels between them; proving also, his Design to get the Jewels into his Hands, and then to have dropp’d the Prosecution, upon Condition of my quitting the Jewels to him; upon this Charge, he got him laid by the Heels,142 so he was sent to the Concergerie,143 that is to say, to Bridewell,144 and the Merchant clear’d: He got out of Jayl in a little-while, tho’ not without the help of Money, and continued teizing145 the Merchant a long while; and at last threatning to assassinate and murther him; so the Merchant, who having buried his Wife about two Months before, was now a single Man, and not knowing what such a Villain might do, thought fit to quit Paris, and came away to Holland also.
It is most certain, that speaking of Originals, I was the Source and Spring of all that Trouble and Vexation to this honest Gentleman; and as it was afterwards in my Power to have made him full Satisfaction, and did not, I cannot say but I added Ingratitude to all the rest of my Follies; but of that I shall give a fuller Account presently.
I was surpriz’d one Morning, when being at the Merchant’s House, who he had recommended me to, in Rotterdam, and being busie in his Counting-House, man
aging my Bills, and preparing to write a Letter to him, to Paris, I heard a Noise of Horses at the Door; which is not very common in a City, where every-body passes by Water; but he had, it seems, ferry’d over the Maez from Williamstadt,146 and so came to the very Door; and I looking towards the Door, upon hearing the Horses, saw a Gentleman alight, and come in at the Gate, I knew nothing, and expected nothing, to be sure, of the Person; but, as I say, was surpriz’d, and indeed, more than ordinarily surpriz’d, when coming nearer to me, I saw it was my Merchant of Paris; my Benefactor; and indeed, my Deliverer.
I confess, it was an agreeable Surprize to me, and I was exceeding glad to see him, who was so honourable, and so kind to me, and who indeed, had sav’d my Life: As soon as he saw me, he run to me, took me in his Arms, and kiss’d me, with a Freedom that he never offer’d to take with me before; Dear Madam —, says he, I am glad to see you safe in this Country; if you had stay’d two Days longer in Paris, you had been undone. I was so glad to see him, that I cou’d not speak a good-while, and I burst out into Tears, without speaking a Word for a Minute; but I recover’d that Disorder, and said, The more, Sir, is my Obligation to you, that sav’d my Life; and added, I am glad to see you here, that I may consider how to ballance an Account, in which I am so much your Debtor.
You and I will adjust that Matter easily, says he, now we are so near together; pray where do you Lodge? says he.
In a very honest good House, said I, where that Gentleman, your Friend, recommended me; pointing to the Merchant in whose House we then were.
And where you may Lodge too, Sir, says the Gentleman, if it suits with your Business, and your other Conveniency.
With-all my Heart, says he; then Madam, adds he, turning to me, I shall be near you, and have Time to tell you a Story, which will be very long, and yet many ways very pleasant to you, how troublesome that devilish Fellow, the Jew, has been to me, on your Account; and what a hellish Snare he had laid for you, if he cou’d have found you.
