could get an account of it, did not disquiet me half so much as that the
young slut had got the name of Roxana by the end, and that she knew who
her Lady Roxana was, and the like; though this, neither, did not hang
together, for then she would not have fixed upon Amy for her mother. But
some time after, when Amy had almost persuaded her out of it, and that
the girl began to be so confounded in her discourses of it, that she
made neither head nor tail, at last the passionate creature flew out in
a kind of rage, and said to Amy, that if she was not her mother, Madam
Roxana was her mother then, for one of them, she was sure, was her
mother; and then all this that Amy had done for her was by Madam
Roxana's order. "And I am sure," says she, "it was my Lady Roxana's
coach that brought the gentlewoman, whoever it was, to my uncle's in
Spitalfields, for the coachman told me so." Amy fell a-laughing at her
aloud, as was her usual way; but, as Amy told me, it was but on one
side of her mouth, for she was so confounded at her discourse, that she
was ready to sink into the ground; and so was I too when she told it me.
However, Amy brazened her out of it all; told her, "Well, since you
think you are so high-born as to be my Lady Roxana's daughter, you may
go to her and claim your kindred, can't you? I suppose," says Amy, "you
know where to find her?" She said she did not question to find her, for
she knew where she was gone to live privately; but, though, she might be
removed again. "For I know how it is," says she, with a kind of a smile
or a grin; "I know how it all is, well enough."
Amy was so provoked, that she told me, in short, she began to think it
would be absolutely necessary to murder her. That expression filled me
with horror, all my blood ran chill in my veins, and a fit of trembling
seized me, that I could not speak a good while; at last. "What, is the
devil in you, Amy?" said I. "Nay, nay," says she, "let it be the devil
or not the devil, if I thought she knew one tittle of your history, I
would despatch her if she were my own daughter a thousand times." "And
I," says I in a rage, "as well as I love you, would be the first that
should put the halter about your neck, and see you hanged with more
satisfaction than ever I saw you in my life; nay," says I, "you would
not live to be hanged, I believe I should cut your throat with my own
hand; I am almost ready to do it," said I, "as 'tis, for your but
naming the thing." With that, I called her cursed devil, and bade her
get out of the room.
I think it was the first time that ever I was angry with Amy in all my
life; and when all was done, though she was a devilish jade in having
such a thought, yet it was all of it the effect of her excess of
affection and fidelity to me.
But this thing gave me a terrible shock, for it happened just after I
was married, and served to hasten my going over to Holland; for I would
not have been seen, so as to be known by the name of Roxana, no, not for
ten thousand pounds; it would have been enough to have ruined me to all
intents and purposes with my husband, and everybody else too; I might as
well have been the "German princess."
Well, I set Amy to work; and give Amy her due, she set all her wits to
work to find out which way this girl had her knowledge, but, more
particularly, how much knowledge she had--that is to say, what she
really knew, and what she did not know, for this was the main thing with
me; how she could say she knew who Madam Roxana was, and what notions
she had of that affair, was very mysterious to me, for it was certain
she could not have a right notion of me, because she would have it be
that Amy was her mother.
I scolded heartily at Amy for letting the girl ever know her, that is to
say, know her in this affair; for that she knew her could not be hid,
because she, as I might say, served Amy, or rather under Amy, in my
family, as is said before; but she (Amy) talked with her at first by
another person, and not by herself; and that secret came out by an
accident, as I have said above.
Amy was concerned at it as well as I, but could not help it; and though
it gave us great uneasiness, yet, as there was no remedy, we were bound
to make as little noise of it as we could, that it might go no farther.
I bade Amy punish the girl for it, and she did so, for she parted with
her in a huff, and told her she should see she was not her mother, for
that she could leave her just where she found her; and seeing she could
not be content to be served by the kindness of a friend, but that she
would needs make a mother of her, she would, for the future, be neither
mother or friend, and so bid her go to service again, and be a drudge as
she was before.
The poor girl cried most lamentably, but would not be beaten out of it
still; but that which dumbfoundered Amy more than all the rest was that
when she had berated the poor girl a long time, and could not beat her out
of it, and had, as I have observed, threatened to leave her, the girl
kept to what she said before, and put this turn to it again, that she
was sure, if Amy wa'n't, my Lady Roxana was her mother, and that she
would go find her out; adding, that she made no doubt but she could do
it, for she knew where to inquire the name of her new husband.
Amy came home with this piece of news in her mouth to me. I could easily
perceive when she came in that she was mad in her mind, and in a rage at
something or other, and was in great pain to get it out; for when she
came first in, my husband was in the room. However, Amy going up to
undress her, I soon made an excuse to follow her, and coming into the
room, "What the d--l is the matter, Amy?" says I; "I am sure you have
some bad news." "News," says Amy aloud; "ay, so I have; I think the d--l
is in that young wench. She'll ruin us all and herself too; there's no
quieting her." So she went on and told me all the particulars; but sure
nothing was so astonished as I was when she told me that the girl knew I
was married, that she knew my husband's name, and would endeavour to
find me out. I thought I should have sunk down at the very words. In the
middle of all my amazement, Amy starts up and runs about the room like a
distracted body. "I must put an end to it, that I will; I can't bear
it--I must murder her, I'll kill the b----;" and swears by her Maker, in
the most serious tone in the world, and then repeated it over three or
four times, walking to and again in the room. "I will, in short, I will
kill her, if there was not another wench in the world."
"Prithee hold thy tongue, Amy," says I; "why, thou art mad." "Ay, so I
am," says she, "stark mad; but I'll be the death of her for all that,
and then I shall be sober again." "But you sha'n't," says I, "you
sha'n't hurt a hair of her head; why, you ought to be hanged for what
you have done already, for having resolved on it is doing it; as to the
guilt of the fact you are a murderer already, as much as if you had done
it already."
"I know that," says Amy, "and it can be no worse; I'll put you out of
your pain, and her too; she shall never challenge you for her mother in
this world, whatever she may in the next." "Well, well," says I, "be
quiet, and do not talk thus, I can't bear it." So she grew a little
soberer after a while.
I must acknowledge, the notion of being discovered carried with it so
many frightful ideas, and hurried my thoughts so much, that I was scarce
myself any more than Amy, so dreadful a thing is a load of guilt upon
the mind.
And yet when Amy began the second time to talk thus abominably of
killing the poor child, of murdering her, and swore by her Maker that
she would, so that I began to see that she was in earnest, I was farther
terrified a great deal, and it helped to bring me to myself again in
other cases.
We laid our heads together then to see if it was possible to discover by
what means she had learned to talk so, and how she (I mean my girl) came
to know that her mother had married a husband; but it would not do, the
girl would acknowledge nothing, and gave but a very imperfect account of
things still, being disgusted to the last degree with Amy's leaving her
so abruptly as she did.
Well, Amy went to the house where the boy was; but it was all one, there
they had only heard a confused story of the lady somebody, they knew not
who, which the same wench had told them, but they gave no heed to it at
all. Amy told them how foolishly the girl had acted, and how she had
carried on the whimsey so far, in spite of all they could say to her;
that she had taken it so ill, she would see her no more, and so she
might e'en go to service again if she would, for she (Amy) would have
nothing to do with her unless she humbled herself and changed her note,
and that quickly too.
The good old gentleman, who had been the benefactor to them all, was
greatly concerned at it, and the good woman his wife was grieved beyond
all expressing, and begged her ladyship (meaning Amy), not to resent it;
they promised, too, they would talk with her about it, and the old
gentlewoman added, with some astonishment, "Sure she cannot be such a
fool but she will be prevailed with to hold her tongue, when she has it
from your own mouth that you are not her mother, and sees that it
disobliges your ladyship to have her insist upon it." And so Amy came
away with some expectation that it would be stopped here.
But the girl was such a fool for all that, and persisted in it
obstinately, notwithstanding all they could say to her; nay, her sister
begged and entreated her not to play the fool, for that it would ruin
her too, and that the lady (meaning Amy) would abandon them both.
Well, notwithstanding this, she insisted, I say, upon it, and which was
worse, the longer it lasted the more she began to drop Amy's ladyship,
and would have it that the Lady Roxana was her mother, and that she had
made some inquiries about it, and did not doubt but she should find her
out.
When it was come to this, and we found there was nothing to be done with
the girl, but that she was so obstinately bent upon the search after me,
that she ventured to forfeit all she had in view; I say, when I found it
was come to this, I began to be more serious in my preparations of my
going beyond sea, and particularly, it gave me some reason to fear that
there was something in it. But the following accident put me beside all
my measures, and struck me into the greatest confusion that ever I was
in my life.
I was so near going abroad that my spouse and I had taken measures for
our going off; and because I would be sure not to go too public, but so
as to take away all possibility of being seen, I had made some exception
to my spouse against going in the ordinary public passage boats. My
pretence to him was the promiscuous crowds in those vessels, want of
convenience, and the like. So he took the hint, and found me out an
English merchant-ship, which was bound for Rotterdam, and getting soon
acquainted with the master, he hired his whole ship, that is to say, his
great cabin, for I do not mean his ship for freight, that so we had all
the conveniences possible for our passage; and all things being near
ready, he brought home the captain one day to dinner with him, that I
might see him, and be acquainted a little with him. So we came after
dinner to talk of the ship and the conveniences on board, and the
captain pressed me earnestly to come on board and see the ship,
intimating that he would treat us as well as he could; and in discourse
I happened to say I hoped he had no other passengers. He said no, he had
not; but, he said, his wife had courted him a good while to let her go
over to Holland with him, for he always used that trade, but he never
could think of venturing all he had in one bottom; but if I went with
him he thought to take her and her kinswoman along with him this voyage,
that they might both wait upon me; and so added, that if we would do him
the honour to dine on board the next day, he would bring his wife on
board, the better to make us welcome.
Who now could have believed the devil had any snare at the bottom of all
this? or that I was in any danger on such an occasion, so remote and out
of the way as this was? But the event was the oddest that could be
thought of. As it happened, Amy was not at home when we accepted this
invitation, and so she was left out of the company; but instead of Amy,
we took our honest, good-humoured, never-to-be-omitted friend the
Quaker, one of the best creatures that ever lived, sure; and who,
besides a thousand good qualities unmixed with one bad one, was
particularly excellent for being the best company in the world; though
I think I had carried Amy too, if she had not been engaged in this
unhappy girl's affair. For on a sudden the girl was lost, and no news
was to be heard of her; and Amy had haunted her to every place she could
think of, that it was likely to find her in; but all the news she could
hear of her was, that she was gone to an old comrade's house of hers,
which she called sister, and who was married to a master of a ship, who
lived at Redriff; and even this the jade never told me. It seems, when
this girl was directed by Amy to get her some breeding, go to the
boarding-school, and the like, she was recommended to a boarding-school
at Camberwell, and there she contracted an acquaintance with a young
lady (so they are all called), her bedfellow, that they called sisters,
and promised never to break off their acquaintance.
But judge you what an unaccountable surprise I must be in when I came on
board the ship and was brought into the captain's cabin, or what they
call it, the great cabin of the ship, to see his lady or wife, and
another young person with her, who, when I came to see her near hand,
was my old cook-maid in the Pall Mall, and, as appeared by the sequel of
the story, was neither more or less than my own daughter. That I knew
her was out of doubt; for though she had not had opportunity to see me
very often, yet I had often seen her, as I must needs, being in my own
family so long.
If ever I had need of courage, and a full presence of mind, it was now;
it was the only valuable secret in the world to me, all depended upon
this occasion; if the girl knew me, I was undone; and to discover any
surprise or disorder had been to make her know me, or guess it, and
discover herself.
I was once going to feign a swooning and fainting away, and so falling
on the ground, or floor, put them all into a hurry and fright, and by
that means to get an opportunity to be continually holding something to
my nose to smell to, and so hold my hand or my handkerchief, or both,
before my mouth; then pretend I could not bear the smell of the ship, or
the closeness of the cabin. But that would have been only to remove into
a clearer air upon the quarter-deck, where we should, with it, have had
a clearer light too; and if I had pretended the smell of the ship, it
would have served only to have carried us all on shore to the captain's
house, which was hard by; for the ship lay so close to the shore, that
we only walked over a plank to go on board, and over another ship which
lay within her; so this not appearing feasible, and the thought not
being two minutes old, there was no time, for the two ladies rose up,
and we saluted, so that I was bound to come so near my girl as to kiss
her, which I would not have done had it been possible to have avoided
it, but there was no room to escape.
I cannot but take notice here, that notwithstanding there was a secret
horror upon my mind, and I was ready to sink when I came close to her to
salute her, yet it was a secret inconceivable pleasure to me when I
kissed her, to know that I kissed my own child, my own flesh and blood,
born of my body, and who I had never kissed since I took the fatal
farewell of them all, with a million of tears, and a heart almost dead
with grief, when Amy and the good woman took them all away, and went
with them to Spitalfields. No pen can describe, no words can express, I
say, the strange impression which this thing made upon my spirits. I
felt something shoot through my blood, my heart fluttered, my head
flashed, and was dizzy, and all within me, as I thought, turned about,
and much ado I had not to abandon myself to an excess of passion at the
first sight of her, much more when my lips touched her face. I thought I
must have taken her in my arms and kissed her again a thousand times,
whether I would or no.
But I roused up my judgment, and shook it off, and with infinite
uneasiness in my mind, I sat down. You will not wonder if upon this
surprise I was not conversable for some minutes, and that the disorder
had almost discovered itself. I had a complication of severe things upon
me, I could not conceal my disorder without the utmost difficulty, and
yet upon my concealing it depended the whole of my prosperity; so I used
all manner of violence with myself to prevent the mischief which was at
the door.
Well, I saluted her, but as I went first forward to the captain's lady,
who was at the farther end of the cabin, towards the light, I had the
occasion offered to stand with my back to the light, when I turned
about to her, who stood more on my left hand, so that she had not a fair
sight of me, though I was so near her. I trembled, and knew neither what
I did or said, I was in the utmost extremity, between so many particular
circumstances as lay upon me, for I was to conceal my disorder from
everybody at the utmost peril, and at the same time expected everybody
would discern it. I was to expect she would discover that she knew me,
and yet was, by all means possible, to prevent it. I was to conceal
myself, if possible, and yet had not the least room to do anything
towards it. In short, there was no retreat, no shifting anything off, no
avoiding or preventing her having a full sight of me, nor was there any
counterfeiting my voice, for then my husband would have perceived it. In
short, there was not the least circumstance that offered me any
assistance, or any favourable thing to help me in this exigence.
After I had been upon the rack for near half-an-hour, during which I
appeared stiff and reserved, and a little too formal, my spouse and the
captain fell into discourses about the ship and the sea, and business
remote from us women; and by-and-by the captain carried him out upon the
quarter-deck, and left us all by ourselves in the great cabin. Then we
began to be a little freer one with another, and I began to be a little
revived by a sudden fancy of my own--namely, I thought I perceived that
the girl did not know me, and the chief reason of my having such a
notion was because I did not perceive the least disorder in her
countenance, or the least change in her carriage, no confusion, no
hesitation in her discourse; nor, which I had my eye particularly upon,
did I observe that she fixed her eyes much upon me, that is to say, not
singling me out to look steadily at me, as I thought would have been the
case, but that she rather singled out my friend the Quaker, and chatted
with her on several things; but I observed, too, that it was all about
indifferent matters.
This greatly encouraged me, and I began to be a little cheerful; but I
was knocked down again as with a thunderclap, when turning to the
captain's wife, and discoursing of me, she said to her, "Sister, I
cannot but think my lady to be very much like such a person." Then she
named the person, and the captain's wife said she thought so too. The
girl replied again, she was sure she had seen me before, but she could
not recollect where; I answered (though her speech was not directed to
me) that I fancied she had not seen me before in England, but asked if
she had lived in Holland. She said, No, no, she had never been out of
England, and I added, that she could not then have known me in England,
unless it was very lately, for I had lived at Rotterdam a great while.
This carried me out of that part of the broil pretty well, and to make
it go off better, when a little Dutch boy came into the cabin, who
belonged to the captain, and who I easily perceived to be Dutch, I
jested and talked Dutch to him, and was merry about the boy, that is to
say, as merry as the consternation I was still in would let me be.
However, I began to be thoroughly convinced by this time that the girl
did not know me, which was an infinite satisfaction to me, or, at least,
that though she had some notion of me, yet that she did not think
anything about my being who I was, and which, perhaps, she would have
been as glad to have known as I would have been surprised if she had;
indeed, it was evident that, had she suspected anything of the truth,
she would not have been able to have concealed it.
Thus this meeting went off, and, you may be sure, I was resolved, if
once I got off of it, she should never see me again to revive her fancy;
but I was mistaken there too, as you shall hear. After we had been on
board, the captain's lady carried us home to her house, which was but
just on shore, and treated us there again very handsomely, and made us
promise that we would come again and see her before we went to concert
our affairs for the voyage and the like, for she assured us that both
she and her sister went the voyage at that time for our company, and I
thought to myself, "Then you'll never go the voyage at all;" for I saw
from that moment that it would be no way convenient for my ladyship to
go with them, for that frequent conversation might bring me to her mind,
and she would certainly claim her kindred to me in a few days, as indeed
would have been the case.
It is hardly possible for me to conceive what would have been our part
in this affair had my woman Amy gone with me on board this ship; it had
certainly blown up the whole affair, and I must for ever after have been
this girl's vassal, that is to say, have let her into the secret, and
trusted to her keeping it too, or have been exposed and undone. The very
thought filled me with horror.
But I was not so unhappy neither, as it fell out, for Amy was not with
us, and that was my deliverance indeed; yet we had another chance to get
over still. As I resolved to put off the voyage, so I resolved to put
off the visit, you may be sure, going upon this principle, namely, that
I was fixed in it that the girl had seen her last of me, and should
never see me more.
However, to bring myself well off, and, withal, to see, if I could, a
little farther into the matter, I sent my friend the Quaker to the
captain's lady to make the visit promised, and to make my excuse that I
could not possibly wait on her, for that I was very much out of order;
and in the end of the discourse I bade her insinuate to them that she
was afraid I should not be able to get ready to go the voyage as soon as
the captain would be obliged to go, and that perhaps we might put it off
to his next voyage. I did not let the Quaker into any other reason for
it than that I was indisposed; and not knowing what other face to put
upon that part, I made her believe that I thought I was a-breeding.
It was easy to put that into her head, and she of course hinted to the
captain's lady that she found me so very ill that she was afraid I would
miscarry, and then, to be sure, I could not think of going.
She went, and she managed that part very dexterously, as I knew she
would, though she knew not a word of the grand reason of my
indisposition; but I was all sunk and dead-hearted again when she told
me she could not understand the meaning of one thing in her visit,
namely, that the young woman, as she called her, that was with the
captain's lady, and who she called sister, was most impertinently
inquisitive into things; as who I was? how long I had been in England?
where I had lived? and the like; and that, above all the rest, she
inquired if I did not live once at the other end of the town.
"I thought her inquiries so out of the way," says the honest Quaker,
"that I gave her not the least satisfaction; but as I saw by thy answers
on board the ship, when she talked of thee, that thou didst not incline
to let her be acquainted with thee, so I was resolved that she should
not be much the wiser for me; and when she asked me if thou ever
lived'st here or there, I always said, No, but that thou wast a Dutch
lady, and was going home again to thy family, and lived abroad."
I thanked her very heartily for that part, and indeed she served me in
it more than I let her know she did: in a word, she thwarted the girl so
cleverly, that if she had known the whole affair she could not have
done it better.