MR. BELFORD, TO ROBERT LOVELACE, ESQ.
SAT. AUG. 26.
On Thursday afternoon I assisted at the opening of poor Belton's will, in
which he has left me his sole executor, and bequeathed me a legacy of an
hundred guineas; which I shall present to his unfortunate sister, to whom
he has not been so kind as I think he ought to have been. He has also
left twenty pounds a-piece to Mowbray, Tourville, thyself, and me, for a
ring to be worn in remembrance of him.
After I had given some particular orders about the preparations to be
made for his funeral, I went to town; but having made it late before I
got in on Thursday night, and being fatigued for want of rest several
nights before, and now in my spirits, [I could not help it, Lovelace!] I
contented myself to send my compliments to the innocent sufferer, to
inquire after her health.
My servant saw Mrs. Smith, who told him, she was very glad I was come to
town; for that lady was worse than she had yet been.
It is impossible to account for the contents of her letter to you; or to
reconcile those contents to the facts I have to communicate.
I was at Smith's by seven yesterday (Friday) morning; and found that the
lady was just gone in a chair to St. Dunstan's to prayers: she was too
ill to get out by six to Covent-garden church; and was forced to be
supported to her chair by Mrs. Lovick. They would have persuaded her
against going; but she said she knew not but it would be her last
opportunity. Mrs. Lovick, dreading that she would be taken worse at
church, walked thither before her.
Mrs. Smith told me she was so ill on Wednesday night, that she had
desired to receive the sacrament; and accordingly it was administered to
her, by the parson of the parish: whom she besought to take all
opportunities of assisting her in her solemn preparation.
This the gentleman promised: and called in the morning to inquire after
her health; and was admitted at the first word. He staid with her about
half an hour; and when he came down, with his face turned aside, and a
faltering accent, 'Mrs. Smith,' said he, 'you have an angel in your
house.--I will attend her again in the evening, as she desires, and as
often as I think it will be agreeable to her.'
Her increased weakness she attributed to the fatigues she had undergone
by your means; and to a letter she had received from her sister, which
she answered the same day.
Mrs. Smith told me that two different persons had called there, one on
Thursday morning, one in the evening, to inquire after her state of
health; and seemed as if commissioned from her relations for that
purpose; but asked not to see her, only were very inquisitive after her
visiters: (particularly, it seems, after me: What could they mean by
that?) after her way of life, and expenses; and one of them inquired
after her manner of supporting them; to the latter of which, Mrs. Smith
said, she had answered, as the truth was, that she had been obliged to
sell some of her clothes, and was actually about parting with more; at
which the inquirist (a grave old farmer-looking man) held up his hands,
and said, Good God!--this will be sad, sad news to somebody! I believe
I must not mention it. But Mrs. Smith says she desired he would, let him
come from whom he would. He shook his head, and said if she died, the
flower of the world would be gone, and the family she belonged to would
be no more than a common family.* I was pleased with the man's
expression.
* This man came from her cousin Morden; as will be seen hereafter,
Letters LII. and LVI. of this volume.
You may be curious to know how she passed her time, when she was obliged
to leave her lodging to avoid you.
Mrs. Smith tells me 'that she was very ill when she went out on Monday
morning, and sighed as if her heart would break as she came down stairs,
and as she went through the shop into the coach, her nurse with her, as
you had informed me before: that she ordered the coachman (whom she hired
for the day) to drive any where, so it was into the air: he accordingly
drove her to Hampstead, and thence to Highgate. There at the
Bowling-green House, she alighted, extremely ill, and having breakfasted,
ordered the coachman to drive very slowly any where. He crept along to
Muswell-hill, and put up at a public house there; where she employed
herself two hours in writing, though exceedingly weak and low, till the
dinner she had ordered was brought in: she endeavoured to eat, but could
not: her appetite was gone, quite gone, she said. And then she wrote on
for three hours more: after which, being heavy, she dozed a little in an
elbow-chair. When she awoke, she ordered the coachman to drive her very
slowly to town, to the house of a friend of Mrs. Lovick; whom, as agreed
upon, she met there: but, being extremely ill, she would venture home at
a late hour, although she heard from the widow that you had been there;
and had reason to be shocked at your behaviour. She said she found there
was no avoiding you: she was apprehensive she should not live many hours,
and it was not impossible but the shock the sight of you must give her
would determine her fate in your presence.
'She accordingly went home. She heard the relation of your astonishing
vagaries, with hands and eyes often lifted up; and with these words
intermingled, Shocking creature! incorrigible wretch! And will nothing
make him serious? And not being able to bear the thoughts of an
interview with a man so hardened, she took to her usual chair early in
the morning, and was carried to the Temple-stairs, where she had ordered
her nurse before her, to get a pair of oars in readiness (for her
fatigues the day before made her unable to bear a coach;) and then she
was rowed to Chelsea, where she breakfasted; and after rowing about, put
in at the Swan at Brentford-ait, where she dined; and would have written,
but had no conveniency either of tolerable pens, or ink, or private room;
and then proceeding to Richmond, they rowed her back to Mort-lake; where
she put in, and drank tea at a house her waterman recommended to her.
She wrote there for an hour; and returned to the Temple; and, when she
landed, made one of the watermen get her a chair, and so was carried to
the widow's friend, as the night before; where she again met the widow,
who informed her that you had been after her twice that day.
'Mrs. Lovick gave her there her sister's letter;* and she was so much
affected with the contents of it, that she was twice very nigh fainting
away; and wept bitterly, as Mrs. Lovick told Mrs. Smith; dropping some
warmer expressions than ever they had heard proceed from her lips, in
relation to her friends; calling them cruel, and complaining of ill
offices done her, and of vile reports raised against her.
* See Letter XXVI. of this volume.
'While she was thus disturbed, Mrs. Smith came to her, and told her, that
you had been there a third time, and was just gone, (at half an hour
after nine,) having left word how civil and respectful you would be; but
that you was determined to see her at all events.
'She said it was hard she could not be permitted to die in peace: that
her lot was a severe one: that she began to be afraid she should not
forbear repining, and to think her punishment greater than her fault:
but, recalling herself immediately, she comforted herself, that her life
would be short, and with the assurance of a better.'
By what I have mentioned, you will conclude with me, that the letter
brought her by Mrs. Lovick (the superscription of which you saw to be
written in her sister's hand) could not be the letter on the contents of
which she grounded that she wrote to you, on her return home. And yet
neither Mrs. Lovick, nor Mrs. Smith, nor the servant of the latter, know
of any other brought her. But as the women assured me, that she actually
did write to you, I was eased of a suspicion which I had begun to
entertain, that you (for some purpose I could not guess at) had forged
the letter from her of which you sent me a copy.
On Wednesday morning, when she received your letter, in answer to her's,
she said, Necessity may well be called the mother of invention--but
calamity is the test of integrity.--I hope I have not taken an
inexcusable step--And there she stopt a minute or two; and then said, I
shall now, perhaps, be allowed to die in peace.
I staid till she came in. She was glad to see me; but, being very weak,
said, she must sit down before she could go up stairs: and so went into
the back-shop; leaning upon Mrs. Lovick: and when she had sat down, 'I am
glad to see you, Mr. Belford, said she; I must say so--let mis-reporters
say what they will.'