that since I that was her mother had neglected doing my duty, though
sought so much after, he would take it upon himself to see both the girl
and Thomas provided for, without any advising or letting me know
anything about them; and added, with a malicious sneer, "I must take
care of the child I have had by you too, or it will have but an
indifferent parent to trust to in case of my decease."
This finished the discourse, and my lord withdrew into his study, in a
humour that I am unable to describe, and left me, Amy, Thomas, and my
daughter Susanna, as I must now call her, in the parlour together. We
sat staring at each other some time, till at last Amy said, "I suppose,
my lady, you have no farther business with your new daughter; she has
told her story, and may now dispose of herself to the best advantage she
can." "No," said I, "I have nothing to say to her, only that she shall
never be admitted into my presence again." The poor girl burst out into
tears, and said, "Pray, my lady, excuse me, for I am certain that were
you in my circumstances, you would have done the very action I have, and
would expect a pardon for committing the offence."
After this, I said to Thomas, "Keep what has been said to yourself, and
I shall speak to you by-and-by;" and then I withdrew, and went upstairs
to my closet, leaving Amy with Susanna, who soon dismissed her, and
followed me.
When Amy came to me, "Now, my lady," says she, "what do you think of
this morning's work? I believe my lord is not so angry as we were
fearful of." "You are mistaken in your lord, Amy," said I, "and are not
so well acquainted with the deep and premeditated revenge of Dutchmen as
I am, and although it may not be my husband's temper, yet I dread it as
much, but shall see more at dinner time."
Soon after this, my husband called Thomas, and bid him order the cloth
for his dinner to be laid in his study, and bid him tell his mother that
he would dine by himself. When I heard this, I was more shocked than I
had been yet. "Now his anger begins to work, Amy," said I, "how must I
act?" "I do not know," answered she, "but I will go into the study, and
try what can be done, and, as a faithful mediator, will try to bring you
together." She was not long before she returned, and bursting into
tears, "I know not what to do," says she, "for your husband is in a deep
study, and when I told him you desired him to dine with you in the
parlour as usual, he only said, 'Mrs. Amy, go to your lady, tell her to
dine when and where she pleases, and pray obey her as your lady; but let
her know from me that she has lost the tenderness I had for her as a
wife, by the little thought she had of her children.'"
Nothing could have shocked me more than the delivery of this message by
Amy. I, almost bathed in tears, went to him myself; found him in a
melancholy posture reading in Milton's "Paradise Regained." He looked at
me very sternly when I entered his study, told me he had nothing to say
to me at that time, and if I had a mind not to disturb him, I must leave
him for the present. "My lord," said I, "supposing all that has been
said by this girl was truth, what reason have you to be in this
unforgiving humour? What have I done to you to deserve this usage? Have
you found any fault with me since I had the happiness of being married
to you? Did you ever find me in any company that you did not approve of?
Have you any reason to think that I have wasted any of your substance?
If you have none of these things to allege against me, for heaven's sake
do not let us now make our lives unhappy, for my having had legitimate
children by a lawful husband, at a time that you think it no crime to
have had a natural son by me, which I had the most reason to repent of."
I spoke the latter part of these words with a small air of authority,
that he might think me the less guilty; but, I believe, he only looked
on what I had said as a piece of heroism; for he soon after delivered
himself in the following speech: "Madam, do you not think that you have
used me in a very deceitful manner? If you think that I have not had
that usage, I will, in a few words, prove the contrary. When first I
knew you, soon after the jeweller's death at Paris, you never mentioned,
in all that intricate affair I was engaged in for you, so much as your
having any children; that, as your circumstances then were, could have
done you no harm, but, on the contrary, it would have moved the
compassion of your bitter enemy the Jew, if he had any. Afterwards, when
I first saw you in London, and began to treat with you about marriage,
your children, which, to all prudent women, are the first things
provided for, were so far neglected as not to be spoken of, though mine
were mentioned to you; and as our fortunes were very considerable, yours
might very well have been put into the opposite scale with them. Another
great piece of your injustice was when I offered to settle your own
fortune upon yourself, you would not consent to it; I do not look on
that piece of condescension out of love to me, but a thorough hatred you
had to your own flesh and blood; and lastly, your not owning your
daughter, though she strongly hinted who she was to you when she was
twice in your company, and even followed you from place to place while
you were in England. Now, if you can reconcile this piece of inhumanity
with yourself, pray try what you can say to me about your never telling
me the life you led in Pall Mall, in the character of Roxana? You
scrupled to be happily married to me, and soon after came to England,
and was a reputed whore to any nobleman that would come up to your
price, and lived with one a considerable time, and was taken by several
people to be his lawful wife. If any gentleman should ask me what I have
taken to my bed, what must I answer? I must say an inhuman false-hearted
whore, one that had not tenderness enough to own her own children, and
has too little virtue, in my mind, to make a good wife.
"I own I would," says he, "have settled your own estate upon you with
great satisfaction, but I will not do it now; you may retire to your
chamber, and when I have any occasion to speak with you, I will send a
messenger to you; so, my undeserving lady countess, you may walk out of
the room."
I was going to reply to all this, but instead of hearing me, he began to
speak against the Quaker, who, he supposed, knew all the intrigues of my
life; but I cleared her innocence, by solemnly declaring it was a
thorough reformation of my past life that carried me to live at the
Quaker's house, who knew nothing of me before I went to live with her,
and that she was, I believed, a virtuous woman.
I went away prodigiously chagrined. I knew not what course to take; I
found expostulation signified nothing, and all my hopes depended on what
I might say to him after we were gone to bed at night. I sent in for
Amy, and having told her our discourse, she said she knew not what to
think of him, but hoped it would, by great submission, wear off by
degrees. I could eat but little dinner, and Amy was more sorrowful than
hungry, and after we had dined, we walked by ourselves in the garden,
to know what we had best pursue. As we were walking about, Thomas came
to us, and told us that the young woman who had caused all the words,
had been at the door, and delivered a letter to my lord's footman, who
had carried it upstairs, and that she was ordered to go to his lordship
in his study, which struck me with a fresh and sensible grief. I told
Thomas, as he was to be her brother, to learn what my lord had said to
her, if he could, as she came down; on which he went into the house to
obey his order.
He was not gone in above a quarter of an hour before he came to me
again, and told me she was gone, and that my lord had given her a purse
of twenty guineas, with orders to live retired, let nobody know who or
what she was, and come to him again in about a month's time. I was very
much satisfied to hear this, and was in hopes of its proving a happy
omen; and I was better pleased about two hours after, when Thomas came
to me to let me know that my lord had given him thirty guineas, and bid
him take off his livery, and new clothe himself, for he intended to make
him his first clerk, and put him in the way of making his fortune. I now
thought it was impossible for me to be poor, and was inwardly rejoiced
that my children (meaning Thomas and Susanna) were in the high road to
grow rich.
As Amy and I had dined by ourselves, my lord kept his study all the day,
and at night, after supper, Isabel came and told me that my lord's man
had received orders to make his bed in the crimson room, which name it
received from the colour of the bed and furniture, and was reserved
against the coming of strangers, or sickness. When she had delivered her
message she withdrew, and I told Amy it would be to no purpose to go to
him again, but I would have her lie in a small bed, which I ordered
immediately to be carried into my chamber. Before we went to bed, I went
to his lordship to know why he would make us both look so little among
our own servants, as to part, bed and board, so suddenly. He only said,
"My Lady Roxana knows the airs of quality too well to be informed that a
scandal among nobility does not consist in parting of beds; if you
cannot lie by yourself, you may send a letter to my Lord ----, whom you
lived with as a mistress in London; perhaps he may want a bedfellow as
well as you, and come to you at once; you are too well acquainted with
him to stand upon ceremony."
I left him, with my heart full of malice, grief, shame, and revenge. I
did not want a good will to do any mischief; but I wanted an unlimited
power to put all my wicked thoughts in execution.
Amy and I lay in our chamber, and the next morning at breakfast we were
talking of what the servants (for there were thirteen of them in all,
viz., two coachmen, four footmen, a groom, and postillion, two women
cooks, two housemaids, and a laundry-maid, besides Isabel, who was my
waiting-maid, and Amy, who acted as housekeeper) could say of the
disturbance that was in the family. "Pho!" said Amy, "never trouble your
head about that, for family quarrels are so common in noblemen's houses,
both here and in England, that there are more families parted, both in
bed and board, than live lovingly together. It can be no surprise to the
servants, and if your neighbours should hear it, they will only think
you are imitating the air of nobility, and have more of that blood in
you than you appeared to have when you and your lord lived happily
together."
The time, I own, went very sluggishly on. I had no company but Amy and
Isabel, and it was given out among the servants of noblemen and gentry
that I was very much indisposed, for I thought it a very improper time
either to receive or pay visits.
In this manner I lived till the month was up that my daughter was to
come again to my lord, for although I went morning, noon, and night,
into his apartment to see him, I seldom had a quarter of an hour's
discourse with him, and oftentimes one of his valets would be sent to
tell me his lord was busy, a little before the time I usually went,
which I found was to prevent my going in to him, but this was only when
he was in an ill humour, as his man called it.
Whether my lord used to make himself uneasy for want of mine or other
company, I cannot tell, but the servants complained every day, as I
heard by Amy, that his lordship ate little or nothing, and would
sometimes shed tears when he sat down by himself to breakfast, dinner,
or supper; and, indeed, I began to think that he looked very thin, his
countenance grew pale, and that he had every other sign of a grieved or
broken heart.
My daughter came to him one Monday morning, and stayed with him in his
study near two hours. I wondered at the reason of it, but could guess at
nothing certain; and at last she went away, but I fixed myself so as to
see her as she passed by me, and she appeared to have a countenance full
of satisfaction.
In the evening, when I went in as usual, he spoke to me in a freer style
than he had done since our breach. "Well, madam" (for he had not used
the words "my lady" at any time after my daughter's coming to our
house), said he, "I think I have provided for your daughter." "As how,
my lord, pray will you let me know?" said I. "Yes," replied he, "as I
have reason to think you will be sorry to hear of her welfare in any
shape, I will tell you. A gentleman who is going factor for the Dutch
East India Company, on the coast of Malabar, I have recommended her to;
and he, on my character and promise of a good fortune, will marry her
very soon, for the Company's ships sail in about twelve days; so, in a
fortnight, like a great many mothers as there are nowadays, you may
rejoice at having got rid of one of your children, though you neither
know where, how, or to whom."
Although I was very glad my lord spoke to me at all, and more especially
so at my daughter's going to be married, and settling in the Indies, yet
his words left so sharp a sting behind them as was exceeding troublesome
to me to wear off. I did not dare venture to make any further inquiries,
but was very glad of what I heard, and soon bidding my lord goodnight,
went and found Amy, who was reading a play in the chamber.
I waited with the greatest impatience for this marriage; and when I
found the day was fixed, I made bold to ask my lord if I should not be
present in his chamber when the ceremony was performed. This favor was
also denied me. I then asked my lord's chaplain to speak to him on that
head, but he was deaf to his importunities, and bade him tell me that I
very well knew his mind. The wedding was performed on a Wednesday
evening, in my lord's presence, and he permitted nobody to be there but
a sister of the bridegroom's, and Thomas (now my lord's secretary or
chief clerk), who was brother to the bride, and who gave her away. They
all supped together after the ceremony was over in the great
dining-room, where the fortune was paid, which was £2000 (as I heard
from Thomas afterwards), and the bonds for the performance of the
marriage were redelivered.
Next morning my lord asked me if I was willing to see my daughter before
she sailed to the Indies. "My lord," said I, "as the seeing of her was
the occasion of this great breach that has happened between us, so if
your lordship will let me have a sight of her and a reconciliation with
you at the same time, there is nothing can be more desirable to me, or
would more contribute to my happiness during the rest of my life."
"No, madam," says he, "I would have you see your daughter, to be
reconciled to her, and give her your blessing (if a blessing can proceed
from you) at parting; but our reconciliation will never be completed
till one of us comes near the verge of life, if then; for I am a man
that am never reconciled without ample amends, which is a thing that is
not in your power to give, without you can alter the course of nature
and recall time."
On hearing him declare himself so open, I told him that my curse instead
of my blessing would pursue my daughter for being the author of all the
mischiefs that had happened between us. "No, madam," said he, "if you
had looked upon her as a daughter heretofore, I should have had no
occasion to have had any breach with you. The whole fault lies at your
own door; for whatever your griefs may inwardly be, I would have you
recollect they were of your own choosing."
I found I was going to give way to a very violent passion, which would
perhaps be the worse for me, so I left the room and went up to my own
chamber, not without venting bitter reproaches both against my daughter
and her unknown husband.
However, the day she was to go on shipboard, she breakfasted with my
lord, and as soon as it was over, and my lord was gone into his study to
fetch something out, I followed him there, and asked him if he would
give me leave to present a gold repeating watch to my daughter before
she went away. I thought he seemed somewhat pleased with this piece of
condescension in me, though it was done more to gain his goodwill than
to express any value I had for her. He told me that he did not know who
I could better make such a present to, and I might give it to her if I
pleased. Accordingly I went and got it out of my cabinet in a moment,
and bringing it to my lord, desired he would give it her from me. He
asked me if I would not give it her myself. I told him no; I wished her
very well, but had nothing to say to her till I was restored to his
lordship's bed and board.
About two hours after all this, the coach was ordered to the door, and
my daughter and her new husband, the husband's sister, and my son
Thomas, all went into it, in order to go to the house of a rich uncle of
the bridegroom's, where they were to dine before they went on board, and
my lord went there in a sedan about an hour after. And having eaten
their dinner, which on this occasion was the most elegant, they all went
on board the Indiaman, where my lord and my son Thomas stayed till the
ship's crew was hauling in their anchors to sail, and then came home
together in the coach, and it being late in the evening, he told Thomas
he should sup with him that night, after which they went to bed in
their several apartments.
Next morning when I went to see my lord as usual, he told me that as he
had handsomely provided for my daughter, and sent her to the Indies with
a man of merit and fortune, he sincerely wished her great prosperity.
"And," he added, "to let you see, madam, that I should never have parted
from my first engagements of love to you, had you not laid yourself so
open to censure for your misconduct, my next care shall be to provide
for your son Thomas in a handsome manner, before I concern myself with
my son by you."
This was the subject of our discourse, with which I was very well
pleased. I only wished my daughter had been married and sent to the
Indies before I had married myself; but I began to hope that the worst
would be over when Thomas was provided for too, and the son my lord had
by me, who was now at the university, was at home; which I would have
brought to pass could my will be obeyed, but I was not to enjoy that
happiness.
My lord and I lived with a secret discontent of each other for near a
twelvemonth before I saw any provision made for my son Thomas, and then
I found my lord bought him a very large plantation in Virginia, and was
furnishing him to go there in a handsome manner; he also gave him four
quarter parts in four large trading West India vessels, in which he
boarded a great quantity of merchandise to traffic with when he came to
the end of his journey, so that he was a very rich man before he (what
we call) came into the world.
The last article that was to be managed, was to engage my son to a wife
before he left Holland; and it happened that the gentleman who was the
seller of the plantation my husband bought, had been a Virginia planter
in that colony a great many years; but his life growing on the decline,
and his health very dubious, he had come to Holland with an intent to
sell his plantation, and then had resolved to send for his wife, son,
and daughter, to come to him with the return of the next ships. This
gentleman had brought over with him the pictures of all his family,
which he was showing to my lord at the same time he was paying for the
effects; and on seeing the daughter's picture, which appeared to him
very beautiful, my lord inquired if she was married. "No, my lord," says
the planter, "but I believe I shall dispose of her soon after she comes
to me." "How old is your daughter?" said my lord. "Why, my lord,"
replied the planter, "she is twenty-two years of age." Then my lord
asked my son if he should like that young lady for a wife. "Nothing, my
lord," said Thomas, "could lay a greater obligation upon me than your
lordship's providing me with a wife."
"Now, sir," said my lord to the planter, "what do you say to a match
between this young gentleman and your daughter? Their ages are
agreeable, and if you can, or will, give her more fortune than he has,
his shall be augmented. You partly know his substance, by the money I
have now paid you."
This generous proposal of my lord's pleased the planter to a great
degree, and he declared to my lord that he thought nothing could be a
greater favour done him, for two reasons; one of which was, that he was
certain the young gentleman was as good as he appeared, because he had
taken for his plantation so large a sum of money as none but a gentleman
could pay. The next reason was, that this marriage, to be performed as
soon as my son arrived there, would be a great satisfaction to his wife,
whose favourite the daughter was. "For," added he, "my wife will not
only have the pleasure of seeing her daughter settled on what was our
own hereditary estate, but also see her married to a man of substance,
without the danger of crossing the seas to be matched to a person equal
to herself."
"Pray, sir," said my lord, "let me hear what fortune you are willing to
give with your daughter; you have but two children, and I know you must
be rich." "Why, my lord," replied the planter, "there is no denying
that; but you must remember I have a son as well as a daughter to
provide for, and he I intend to turn into the mercantile way as soon as
he arrives safe from Virginia. I have, my lord," continued he, "a very
large stock-in-trade there, as warehouses of tobacco, &c., lodged in the
custom-houses of the ports, to the value of £7000, to which I will add
£3000 in money, and I hope you will look upon that as a very competent
estate; and when the young gentleman's fortune is joined to that, I
believe he will be the richest man in the whole American colonies of his
age."
It was then considered between my lord and Thomas, that no woman with a
quarter of that fortune would venture herself over to the West Indies
with a man that had ten times as much; so it being hinted to the planter
that my lord had agreed to the proposals, they promised to meet the next
morning to settle the affair.
In the evening, my lord, with Thomas in his company, hinted the above
discourse to me. I was frightened almost out of my wits to think what a
large sum of money had been laid out for my son, but kept what I thought
to myself. It was agreed that my son was to marry the old planter's
daughter, and a lawyer was sent for, with instructions to draw up all
the writings for the marriage-settlement, &c., and the next morning a
messenger came from the planter with a note to my lord, letting him
know, if it was not inconvenient, he would wait on his lordship to
breakfast. He came soon after with a Dutch merchant of great estate, who
was our neighbour at The Hague, where they settled every point in
question, and the articles were all drawn up and signed by the several
parties the next day before dinner.
There was nothing now remaining but my son's departure to his new
plantation in Virginia. Great despatch was made that he might be ready
to sail in one of his own ships, and take the advantage of an English
convoy, which was almost ready to sail. My lord sent several valuable
presents to my son's lady, as did her father; and as I was at liberty in
this case to do as I would, and knowing my lord had a very great value
for my son, I thought that the richer my presents were, the more he
would esteem me (but there was nothing in it, the enmity he took against
me had taken root in his heart); so I sent her a curious set of china,
the very best I could buy, with a silver tea-kettle and lamp, tea-pot,
sugar-dish, cream-pot, teaspoons, &c., and as my lord had sent a golden
repeater, I added to it a golden equipage, with my lord's picture
hanging to it, finely painted; (This was another thing I did purposely
to please him, but it would not do.) A few days after, he came to take
his leave of me, by my lord's order, and at my parting with him I shed
abundance of tears, to think I was then in an almost strange place, no
child that could then come near me, and under so severe a displeasure of
my lord, that I had very little hopes of ever being friends with him
again.
My life did not mend after my son was gone; all I could do would not
persuade my lord to have any free conversation with me. And at this
juncture it was that the foolish jade Amy, who was now advanced in
years, was catched in a conversation with one of my lord's men, which
was not to her credit; for, it coming to his ears, she was turned out of
the house by my lord's orders, and was never suffered to come into it
again during his lifetime, and I did not dare to speak a word in her
favour for fear he should retort upon me, "Like mistress, like maid."