The Fortunate Mistress (Parts 1 and 2) by Daniel Defoe
had any hand in her sufferings, God would forgive her, as she heartily did. 'But then,' she added, 'I will not stay in England, I will go all over the world, I will go to France, to Paris; I know my mother did once live there, and if I do not find her there, I will go through Holland, to Amsterdam, to Rotterdam; in short, I will go till I find my mother out, if I should die in the pursuit.' I should be glad to hear of thine and thy spouse's welfare, and remain with much sincerity, your sincere friend,
"M.P.
"The ninth of the month called October.
"P.S.--If thou hast any business to transact in this city, pray let me know; I shall use my best endeavours to oblige thee; my daughters all join with me in willing thee a hearty farewell."
I concealed my surprise for a few minutes, only till I could get intothe summer-house, at the bottom of our large garden; but when I was shutin, no living soul can describe the agony I was in, I raved, tore,fainted away, swore, prayed, wished, cried, and promised, but allavailed nothing, I was now stuck in to see the worst of it, let whatwould happen.
At last I came to the following resolution, which was to write a letterto the Quaker, and in it enclose a fifty pound bank-bill, and tell theQuaker to give that to the young woman if she called again, and also tolet her know a fifty pound bill should be sent her every year, so longas she made no inquiry after me, and kept herself retired in England.Although this opened myself too full to the Quaker, yet I thought I hadbetter venture my character abroad, than destroy my peace at home.
Soon after, my husband came home, and he perceived I had been crying,and asked what was the reason. I told him that I had shed tears bothfor joy and sorrow: "For," said I, "I have received one of thetenderest letters from Amy, as it was possible for any person, and shetells me in it," added I, "that she will soon come to see me; which sooverjoyed me, that I cried, and after it, I went to read the letter asecond time, as I was looking out of the summer-house window over thecanal; and in unfolding it, I accidentally let it fall in, by whichmischance it is lost, for which I am very sorry, as I intended youshould see it." "Pray, my dear," said he, "do not let that give you anyuneasiness; if Amy comes, and you approve of it, you have my consent totake her into the house, in what capacity you please. I am very glad,"continued he, "that you have nothing of more consequence to be uneasyat, I fancy you would make but an indifferent helpmate if you had." Oh!thought I to myself, if you but knew half the things that lie on myconscience, I believe you would think that I bear them out past allexample.
About ten days afterwards, as we were sitting at dinner with twogentlemen, one of the footmen came to the door, and said, "My lady, hereis a gentlewoman at the door who desires to speak with you: she says hername is Mrs. Amy."
I no sooner heard her name, but I was ready to swoon away, but I orderedthe footman to call Isabel, and ask the gentlewoman to walk up with herinto my dressing-room; which he immediately did, and there I went tohave my first interview with her. She kissed me for joy when she sawme, and I sent Isabel downstairs, for I was in pain till I had someprivate conversation with my old confidante.
There was not much ceremony between us, before I told her all thematerial circumstances that had happened in her absence, especiallyabout the girl's imprisonments which she had contrived, and how she hadgot my letter at the Quaker's, the very day she had been there. "Well,"says Amy, when I had told her all, "I find nothing is to ensue, if shelives, but your ruin; you would not agree to her death, so I will notmake myself uneasy about her life; it might have been rectified, but youwere angry with me for giving you the best of counsel, viz., when Iproposed to murder her."
"Hussy," said I, in the greatest passion imaginable, "how dare youmention the word murder? You wretch you, I could find in my heart, if myhusband and the company were gone, to kick you out of my house. Have younot done enough to kill her, in throwing her into one of the worst jailsin England, where, you see, that Providence in a peculiar mannerappeared to her assistance. Away! thou art a wicked wretch; thou art amurderer in the sight of God."
"I will say no more," says Amy, "but if I could have found her, afterthy friend the Quaker had discharged her out of the Marshalsea prison, Ihad laid a scheme to have her taken up for a theft, and by that meansgot her transported for fourteen years. She will be with you soon, I amsure; I believe she is now in Holland."
While we were in this discourse, I found the gentlemen who dined with uswere going, so we came downstairs, and I went into the parlour to takeleave of them before their departure. When they were gone, my husbandtold me he had been talking with them about taking upon him the title ofCount or Earl of ----, as he had told me of, and as an opportunity nowoffered, he was going to put it in execution.
I told him I was so well settled, as not to want anything this worldcould afford me, except the continuance of his life and love (though thevery thing he had mentioned, joined with the death of my daughter, inthe natural way, would have been much more to my satisfaction). "Well,my dear," says he, "the expense will be but small, and as I promised youthe title, it shall not be long before the honour shall be brought hometo your toilette." He was as good as his word, for that day week hebrought the patent home to me, in a small box covered with crimsonvelvet and two gold hinges. "There, my lady countess," says he, "longmay you live to bear the title, for I am certain you are a credit toit." In a few days after, I had the pleasure to see our equipage, ascoach, chariot, &c., all new painted, and a coronet fixed at the properplace, and, in short, everything was proportioned to our quality, sothat our house vied with most of the other nobility.
It was at this juncture that I was at the pinnacle of all my worldlyfelicity, notwithstanding my soul was black with the foulest crimes.And, at the same time, I may begin to reckon the beginning of mymisfortunes, which were in embryo, but were very soon brought forth, andhurried me on to the greatest distress.
As I was sitting one day talking to Amy in our parlour, and the streetdoor being left open by one of the servants, I saw my daughter pass bythe window, and without any ceremony she came to the parlour door, andopening of it, came boldly in. I was terribly amazed, and asked her whoshe wanted, as if I had not known her, but Amy's courage was quite lost,and she swooned away. "Your servant, my lady," says she; "I thought Ishould never have had the happiness to see you _tete-a-tete_, till youragent, the Quaker, in Haydon Yard, in the Minories, carelessly left adirection for me in her own window; however, she is a good woman, forshe released me out of a jail in which, I believe, that base wretch"(pointing to Amy, who was coming to herself) "caused me to be confined."As soon as Amy recovered, she flew at her like a devil, and between themthere was so much noise as alarmed the servants, who all came to seewhat was the matter. Amy had pulled down one of my husband's swords,drawn it, and was just going to run her through the body, as theservants came in, who not knowing anything of the matter, some of themsecured Amy, others held the girl, and the rest were busy about me, toprevent my fainting away, which was more than they could do, for I fellinto strong fits, and in the interim they turned the girl out of thehouse, who was fully bent on revenge.
My lord, as I now called him, was gone out a-hunting. I was satisfied heknew nothing of it, as yet, and when Amy and I were thoroughly come toourselves, we thought it most advisable to find the girl out, and giveher a handsome sum of money to keep her quiet. So Amy went out, but inall her searching could hear nothing of her; this made me very uneasy. Iguessed she would contrive to see my lord before he came home, and so itproved, as you shall presently hear.
When night came on, that I expected his return, I wondered I did not seehim. Amy sat up in my chamber with me, and was as much concerned as waspossible. Well, he did not come in all that night, but the next morning,about ten o'clock, he rapped at the door, with the girl along with him.When it was opened, he went into the great parlour, and bid Thomas gocall down his lady. This was the crisis. I now summoned up all myresolution, and took Amy down with me, to see if we could not baff
le thegirl, who, to an inch, was her mother's own child.
It will be necessary here to give a short account of our debate, becauseon it all my future misery depended, and it made me lose my husband'slove, and own my daughter; who would not rest there, but told my lordhow many brothers and sisters she had.
When we entered the room, my lord was walking very gravely about it, butwith his brows knit, and a wild confusion in his face, as if all themalice and revenge of a Dutchman had joined to put me out of countenancebefore I spoke a word.
"Pray, madam," says he, "do you know this young woman? I expect a speedyand positive answer, without the least equivocation."
"Really, my lord," replied I, "to give you an answer as quick as
"M.P.
"The ninth of the month called October.
"P.S.--If thou hast any business to transact in this city, pray let me know; I shall use my best endeavours to oblige thee; my daughters all join with me in willing thee a hearty farewell."
I concealed my surprise for a few minutes, only till I could get intothe summer-house, at the bottom of our large garden; but when I was shutin, no living soul can describe the agony I was in, I raved, tore,fainted away, swore, prayed, wished, cried, and promised, but allavailed nothing, I was now stuck in to see the worst of it, let whatwould happen.
At last I came to the following resolution, which was to write a letterto the Quaker, and in it enclose a fifty pound bank-bill, and tell theQuaker to give that to the young woman if she called again, and also tolet her know a fifty pound bill should be sent her every year, so longas she made no inquiry after me, and kept herself retired in England.Although this opened myself too full to the Quaker, yet I thought I hadbetter venture my character abroad, than destroy my peace at home.
Soon after, my husband came home, and he perceived I had been crying,and asked what was the reason. I told him that I had shed tears bothfor joy and sorrow: "For," said I, "I have received one of thetenderest letters from Amy, as it was possible for any person, and shetells me in it," added I, "that she will soon come to see me; which sooverjoyed me, that I cried, and after it, I went to read the letter asecond time, as I was looking out of the summer-house window over thecanal; and in unfolding it, I accidentally let it fall in, by whichmischance it is lost, for which I am very sorry, as I intended youshould see it." "Pray, my dear," said he, "do not let that give you anyuneasiness; if Amy comes, and you approve of it, you have my consent totake her into the house, in what capacity you please. I am very glad,"continued he, "that you have nothing of more consequence to be uneasyat, I fancy you would make but an indifferent helpmate if you had." Oh!thought I to myself, if you but knew half the things that lie on myconscience, I believe you would think that I bear them out past allexample.
About ten days afterwards, as we were sitting at dinner with twogentlemen, one of the footmen came to the door, and said, "My lady, hereis a gentlewoman at the door who desires to speak with you: she says hername is Mrs. Amy."
I no sooner heard her name, but I was ready to swoon away, but I orderedthe footman to call Isabel, and ask the gentlewoman to walk up with herinto my dressing-room; which he immediately did, and there I went tohave my first interview with her. She kissed me for joy when she sawme, and I sent Isabel downstairs, for I was in pain till I had someprivate conversation with my old confidante.
There was not much ceremony between us, before I told her all thematerial circumstances that had happened in her absence, especiallyabout the girl's imprisonments which she had contrived, and how she hadgot my letter at the Quaker's, the very day she had been there. "Well,"says Amy, when I had told her all, "I find nothing is to ensue, if shelives, but your ruin; you would not agree to her death, so I will notmake myself uneasy about her life; it might have been rectified, but youwere angry with me for giving you the best of counsel, viz., when Iproposed to murder her."
"Hussy," said I, in the greatest passion imaginable, "how dare youmention the word murder? You wretch you, I could find in my heart, if myhusband and the company were gone, to kick you out of my house. Have younot done enough to kill her, in throwing her into one of the worst jailsin England, where, you see, that Providence in a peculiar mannerappeared to her assistance. Away! thou art a wicked wretch; thou art amurderer in the sight of God."
"I will say no more," says Amy, "but if I could have found her, afterthy friend the Quaker had discharged her out of the Marshalsea prison, Ihad laid a scheme to have her taken up for a theft, and by that meansgot her transported for fourteen years. She will be with you soon, I amsure; I believe she is now in Holland."
While we were in this discourse, I found the gentlemen who dined with uswere going, so we came downstairs, and I went into the parlour to takeleave of them before their departure. When they were gone, my husbandtold me he had been talking with them about taking upon him the title ofCount or Earl of ----, as he had told me of, and as an opportunity nowoffered, he was going to put it in execution.
I told him I was so well settled, as not to want anything this worldcould afford me, except the continuance of his life and love (though thevery thing he had mentioned, joined with the death of my daughter, inthe natural way, would have been much more to my satisfaction). "Well,my dear," says he, "the expense will be but small, and as I promised youthe title, it shall not be long before the honour shall be brought hometo your toilette." He was as good as his word, for that day week hebrought the patent home to me, in a small box covered with crimsonvelvet and two gold hinges. "There, my lady countess," says he, "longmay you live to bear the title, for I am certain you are a credit toit." In a few days after, I had the pleasure to see our equipage, ascoach, chariot, &c., all new painted, and a coronet fixed at the properplace, and, in short, everything was proportioned to our quality, sothat our house vied with most of the other nobility.
It was at this juncture that I was at the pinnacle of all my worldlyfelicity, notwithstanding my soul was black with the foulest crimes.And, at the same time, I may begin to reckon the beginning of mymisfortunes, which were in embryo, but were very soon brought forth, andhurried me on to the greatest distress.
As I was sitting one day talking to Amy in our parlour, and the streetdoor being left open by one of the servants, I saw my daughter pass bythe window, and without any ceremony she came to the parlour door, andopening of it, came boldly in. I was terribly amazed, and asked her whoshe wanted, as if I had not known her, but Amy's courage was quite lost,and she swooned away. "Your servant, my lady," says she; "I thought Ishould never have had the happiness to see you _tete-a-tete_, till youragent, the Quaker, in Haydon Yard, in the Minories, carelessly left adirection for me in her own window; however, she is a good woman, forshe released me out of a jail in which, I believe, that base wretch"(pointing to Amy, who was coming to herself) "caused me to be confined."As soon as Amy recovered, she flew at her like a devil, and between themthere was so much noise as alarmed the servants, who all came to seewhat was the matter. Amy had pulled down one of my husband's swords,drawn it, and was just going to run her through the body, as theservants came in, who not knowing anything of the matter, some of themsecured Amy, others held the girl, and the rest were busy about me, toprevent my fainting away, which was more than they could do, for I fellinto strong fits, and in the interim they turned the girl out of thehouse, who was fully bent on revenge.
My lord, as I now called him, was gone out a-hunting. I was satisfied heknew nothing of it, as yet, and when Amy and I were thoroughly come toourselves, we thought it most advisable to find the girl out, and giveher a handsome sum of money to keep her quiet. So Amy went out, but inall her searching could hear nothing of her; this made me very uneasy. Iguessed she would contrive to see my lord before he came home, and so itproved, as you shall presently hear.
When night came on, that I expected his return, I wondered I did not seehim. Amy sat up in my chamber with me, and was as much concerned as waspossible. Well, he did not come in all that night, but the next morning,about ten o'clock, he rapped at the door, with the girl along with him.When it was opened, he went into the great parlour, and bid Thomas gocall down his lady. This was the crisis. I now summoned up all myresolution, and took Amy down with me, to see if we could not baff
It will be necessary here to give a short account of our debate, becauseon it all my future misery depended, and it made me lose my husband'slove, and own my daughter; who would not rest there, but told my lordhow many brothers and sisters she had.
When we entered the room, my lord was walking very gravely about it, butwith his brows knit, and a wild confusion in his face, as if all themalice and revenge of a Dutchman had joined to put me out of countenancebefore I spoke a word.
"Pray, madam," says he, "do you know this young woman? I expect a speedyand positive answer, without the least equivocation."
"Really, my lord," replied I, "to give you an answer as quick as