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LIFE OF POLL FLANDERS.

Who was born in Newgate; Seduced by her Lady's eldest Son, and then married to his Brother; after whose death she was twelve years a Lady of Pleasure; ten years a thief; five times a married woman, once to her Brother; condemned at the Old Bailey, transported to Virginia, and returned to Ireland.—Her Death.

Vice is a Monster of so frightful Mien,
As to be hated, needs but to be seen;
Yet, seen too often with familiar face,
We first endure, then pity, then embrace.

PRINTED FOR CHAPMAN WHITCOMB.

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LIFE OF Poll Flanders.

AT the request of several friends, and finding myself draw near the close of life, I shall, in this edition, give a more full account of my birth and parentage than any yet published; as also of my real name, and the rea­sons I had for taking the name of Poll Flanders.

My grandfather was born at Carrickfergus in the north part of the kingdom of Ireland of good and honest par­entage, who joining with O'Neale in the troubles of that Kingdom, forfeited his estate, and a little after died for grief, leaving my father James Fitzpatrick, to the care of his brother, who brought him up a gentleman; but at his death did not leave him above fifty pounds to seek his fortune, with which he equipped himself like a gentle­man, as he really was one, and came over to England; but that small sum being soon expended, he was driven very much to his shifts, and liv'd upon dice and Misses as is usual with too many of that country, and at that time got acquainted with my mother, whose name was Mary Flanders, and the top of all the mistresses about Whets­ton's-park, then the rendezvous of all the Misses about town. But her beauty fading, and she becomine an old face, they found that way of living would not maintain them in their extravagancies, and my father was obliged now and then to turn out, and go upon the highway, wherein he always behaved like a gentleman, and never killed any one in his life, as he declared the very last moment of his breath; but associating with some [...]og [...]es worse than himself, he was in a years time betray'd by his companions, taken, committed to Newgate, and exe­cuted, [Page 4] at Tyburn, where he died truly penitent, and like a good christian, made a decent Exit.

My mother was young with child, at the death of my father, and his untimely end had like to have cost her her life; but it was not so decreed, for in a little time she recovered, and found herself in a more misera­ble condition than she expected, being much in debt with the charges she was at, in hopes of getting a reprieve for my father; and the world frowned very hardly upon her, every one was for getting his own, tho they knew she had not a farthing to pay them; so miserable is the case of persons in distress, that instead of affording pity, they add one affliction to another; and nothing would serve the hard hearted creditors, but that they would have my mother rot in a goal, and make dice of her bones, which made her begin to look about her, and consider what way she had best to take: if she could not get money, she knew she must soon perish in goal; how to get it she had no way, her beauty being, as I said before decayed, and she having been an old batter­ed wretch about town, had but little to expect from that course of life; beside, the very name of having her hus­band hanged, added very much to her misfortunes. al­though her creditors were most of them of that frater­nity themselves; yet these hard-hearted creatures, never dreaming how soon it might be their own turns to fol­low him, arrested her, and threw her into the Marshalsea, where she lay in a very deplorable condition for above a month, and was then discharged upon paying her sees, when they found they could make nothing of her.

When she came out, she found herself in a worse con­dition than before, and did not know what to do to support nature; to work she was unable, and to beg a­shamed: and in this deplorable state strolling about the streets one evening, she met a woman that had been a prisoner with her in the Marshalsea, with whom going to drink a pint of beer, comparing notes, they found their conditions to be much alike, and the other being an old practitioner, advised my mother to go along with her a shoplifting, who not having a farthing in the world, and being afraid to go home for want of money [Page 5] to pay her lodging, they at length agreed, when going along Ch [...]apside, they went into a linen draper's shop, and cheapened several pieces of linen, in which time the other woman concealed three pieces of holland, which she gave to my mother to hide under her petticoats, and she went away, leaving my mother to shift for herself, who being but a young practitioner at the business, was easily discovered, secured, and carried before a justice of the peace, who committed her to Newgate, from whence she was carried to the Old Bailey, and there condemn­ed; but pleading pregnancy, was respited for about four months, when being called down to her former judgment, was ordered for transportation till which she lay in Newgate above five months, and then left me in the hands of the prisoners, who sold me to the Gypsies, with whom I continued till I was about three years old, when they left me at Colchester in Essex, where I was taken up by the parish, but could give no account how I came there only that I belonged to the Gypsies, and that they had left me, but why or where they were gone, I did not know, neither could they find them, al­though they sent every way to look for them.

I was now too young to take care of myself, not be­ing above three years old, and was ordered by the church warden, to the parish nurse, who proved a very good sort of a woman, and took a great deal of care of the children under her, teaching them to read and work till they were fit to go to business.

Under this good woman I continued till I was eight years old, and then the officers were for putting me to service, which I had a strong aversion to, and told my nurse, if she would keep me, I was sure I could get my own living by spinning and working with the [...] and that I would work night and day rather than leave her. Foolish child, said she, thou wilt learn to do house-work as thou hast learnt thy needle, and they won't put thee to hard work at first: Yes they will, said I, and if I don't do it they will beat me: and then I could not forbear crying for a quarter of an hour, which so moved the good woman, that she took me in her arms and [Page 6] said I should not go to service, she would speak to the Mayor to let me continue at my needle a little longer.

The next day, she going to wait on the Mayor, who would often send for her to know how the children did, she told him they were all well, but that she had one that would be nothing but a gentlewoman; which story so pleased the Mayor's lady and her daughters, that in [...] week's time they came to the school, and being pleas­ed with the order and management of the children, one of the daughters enquired which was she that was a gentlewoman? which terribly frighted me; but she taking me by the hand, and saying Miss has a lady's hand, and for ought I know may be one before she dies. This gave me courage to present my work to Mrs. Mayoress who, being mightily pleased with it, gave me a shilling, and bade me mind my work, and I would be a gentle­woman the sooner.

But alas! they did not know what I meant by a gen­tlewoman; for the young ladies asking me, What a gentlewoman was, I told them, to get my own living by my needle, and not go to service: This prattle so pleased the daughters, that they gave me money too.

I gave my money to my nurse, and told her she should have all I got when I was a gentlewoman, which so diverted the good old woman, that she would be often talking with me, all which she related to the Mayor's daughters, who told other young ladies of the town, with whom they were used to come every week to see me, and they were often used to say I was a very pretty girl, which made me not a little proud, and I began to spruce myself up a little finer than the rest of the chil­dren, with linen and laced head-dresses, and gloves, which my nurse bought me with the money that was given me, which she always faithfully gave an account of to those who gave it me; which so pleased many of them, that they strove who should give me most money; so that by the time I was ten years old. I was as fine as a gentlewoman indeed. And now I was again call­ed upon to go to service, but by this time my nurse did not care to part with me, for I was now become useful to her school, and could teach the children in her ab­sence, [Page 7] so that she told them, if they pleased she would keep the gentlewoman herself, which so pleased the la­dies, that they were kinder to me than before, and bro't me fine works to do, which they not only paid me for, but taught me how to do it themselves, so that by twelve years old, I not only helped my nurse in her school, but paid her for my keeping, and went very genteelly be­sides, and had money in my pocket.

At last one of the ladies desired my nurse in the Christmas to let me go home with her to keep her daugh­ters company, which the old woman could scarcely be persuaded to do, [...], the lady would keep me for good and all, which she told her she did not know but she might do in a little time, but at present I should only stay a week, to see how I could agree with her daughters, where I had not been a day or two, but I be­came the delight of the whole family.

However, according to promise, I went home to my nurse again, much, you may be sure, against my incli­nation; for I had gotten such a taste of genteel living at my lady's, that every thing was out of order at my nurse's, and nothing could please me, having quite other notions of being a gentlewoman than I had formerly and believed it to be a fine thing even to be among la­dies; However, the many obligations I had to my nurse would not let me think of leaving her, and, indeed if I had I did not know where to go, so that I judged it [...] continue longer with her, [...] some kind opportunity should offer; which I did till I was past fourteen years of age, when my good old woman sickened and died, which indeed was a sad grief to me, I not knowing what to do, o [...] where to go, the parish children being remov­ed, and the school broken up; and what was still worse, my nurse had two and twenty shillings sterling of mine, which was my all, in her hands when she died, which her daughter at first denied to give me, altho her mother had told her of it before she died.

I was now a poor gentlewoman indeed, for the goods being removed, I did not know where to go, till some of the neighbours informed the lady, in whose family I had been how I was left, who sent a maid for me, and I [Page 8] went with a glad heart, you may be sure; however the fright had made such an impression upon me, that I was willing to do any thing they should put me to; but my good lady designed no hard work for me, but received me very generously, and if possible, exceeded the old wo­man in kindness; and the Mayoress soon after sent for me, and then others, so that I was very much made of wherever I went; but the lady would not part with me, altho the Mayoress claimed me as her right, she being the first that had taken notice of me.

By this time I was between seventeen and eighteen years of age, and had all the advantages of improve­ment imaginable; and the young ladies having masters at home, teaching them French, dancing, and music, I learnt faster than any of them, and could sing much better, which made me not a little proud of myself; and I also heard the young gentlemen say, I was the pretti­est girl they ever saw in their lives, which was no small addition to the good opinion. I had of myself. Not­withstanding this, I carried myself very modestly, which gained me the esteem of all that knew me, more espe­cially the lady's two sons who both fell in love with me, and which proved my ruin, as you shall hear hereafter.

The eldest was a gentleman of pleasure, and knew the gaiety of the town as well as the solidity of the coun­try; he was always praising my beauty, and endeavor­ing to entrap me, which he knew as well how to do as to catch a patridge; always commending me to his sisters, but to be sure it was in my hearing, which would make them often rebuke him, saying, I heard what he said, which he would put off with a joke, and then pres­ently begin to talk of me again, this pleased me so much that I was always as willing to hear as he was to com­mend.

After this fly way of laying his bait, he endeavored to catch me more openly: and coming one day into his sister's chamber when I was with them, he asked me if my cheeks did not burn? to which I answered not a word, but blushed and made a courtesy: why? said the lady because we have been talking of her said he, above half an hour below stairs: and what then? said his sis­ter, [Page 9] I am sure you can say no harm of her: no faith, says he, far from it, we all agree she is the handsomest young woman in Colchester, and in short she is become the toast of the town.

One of the young ladies checked her brother for talk­ing so before me, and said, that Betty wants but one thing, and she had as good want all the graces, and that's money, which is all that men want now-a-days; for tho a woman were as beautiful as Venus, chaste as Dia­na, and wise as Minerva—hold, sister, said the younger, who was standing by, if I could find a wom­an so accomplished as you talk of, I would not matter the money; but you will ever be uneasy about that, said the sister.

How do you know, said the elder brother, you have more fortune than beauty: you need not exclaim against it, then said the sister, I have the better of my neigh­bors: You don't know that, said the younger brother; beauty will often steal a husband in spite of money, and the maid often makes a better bargain than her mistress that rides in her coach before her.

I thought it was high time for me to withdraw, which I did, but not so far, but I heard all their discourse, which proved not much to my advantage; for the younger brother fell out with his sister about me, which she so resented, that her future conduct was very disa­greeable, tho indeed at that time she had no occasion, for I had no thoughts of her younger brother, and the eldest said so many things in jest, that I gave credit to nothing he said.

Knowing they were out, he came one day to the door, and knocking as he used to do, I told him the la­dies were gone out; I know that said he, my dear, but you are here, and that's better; and upon that he clasp­ed me in his arms, and gave me repeated kissed, at which I strugged, I can▪t say but it was faintly, and so he held me and kissed me till he was out of breath, swearing he was in love with me, which put me into some disorder, he still continuing to repeat it, and I cannot say but I in my heart wished it, were so; however I soon recov­ered myself, and he seeing his sisters coming up the gar­den, [Page 10] swore he was in earnest, kissed me and took his leave.

My head now ran upon nothing but love; and I can­not say, but the pride of having such a fine gentleman in love with me, would have made me yield to any thing he could have desired, had he at that time thought fit to have asked it, but he was more modest then, than he proved afterwards: for in a few days, the family being all abroad, and I not dreaming he was at home, he surprized me in his younger sister's chamber, and fell a kissing me as before, and when he had done, he sat down, and swore he was charmed with my beauty, and abundance of fine things, and that if I would but return his love, I should save his life; and then taking me in his arms, he threw me upon the bed, and kissed me vio­lently, but offered then no rudeness to me, lifting me up again, and put five guineas into my hand, swearing it was in honest affection; and then going down stairs, and finding the house clear, he returned and fel [...] to work with me, as he did before, but with less ceremony, for shutting the door, he said he fancied there was some­body coming up stairs, Miss Betty; but I said I believ­ed not, for there was no body in the ho [...]se but he and I; well, my dear, said he, it is good to be sure, however, and sitting down he began to tell me how he loved me, and that as soon as he came to his estate he would mar­ry me, which I had no more wit than to believe; and then he threw me upon the bed again, and stopt my mouth with kisses, and offered some things which de­cency will not permit me to mention; however he did not attempt the last favor, on which he made a plea for his other freedoms, which done, he put a handful of gold in my hands, and renewed his former protestations of love. Vanity had now gotten the master of my virtue, & I was resolved not to deny him any favour he should ask & in­deed I wondered that he had not done it before: How­ever, I was cunning enough not to give the least s [...]spicion in the family, and for that reason I avoided seeing him as much as possibly, but sometimes we had a meeting or so, when be might have had any favour had not he [Page 11] made more difficulty about it than there really was, for to be plain, I was as willing as he.

The Devil, who never wants means as well as agents, to do his work, soon found out a way to enjoy that, which I cannot but say we had both so long wished for. Com­ing one day into his sister's chamber, he desired them to let me go to a milliner's for two neck cloths he had bought, of the same muslin with a turnover he had in his hand, in which he gave me a note which was my direc­tion; and then he began to tell them a long story of a visit he was going to make, and that he should be very glad of their company, which they desired to be excused of, because they had company to visit them that after­noon, as he knew very well.

In the mean time a gentleman's chariot came to the door, under pretence of fetching him, but he had bor­rowed it on purpose, which he had no sooner notice of, than be took his leave of his sisters, in a very formal man­ner, and came to meet me at M [...]le-end, where he had ap­pointed in the note at a confidents of his, in whose house we had all the conveniency we desired to be as wicked as we would.

At first he began to tell me, that his love would not let him betray me, and that he would marry me as soon as he came to his estate, and many such protesta [...]ions that he needed not to have done; and said he, my dear, if you prove with child. I'll take care of you both, and to satisfy you I am in earnest, here's an hundred guineas for you in this purse, and I'll give you such another eve­ry year till I marry you.

My colour came and went at the sight of the purse, so that I could not speak a word, which he perceiving, put the purse into my bosom, and ********** from which moment I might reckon the date of my ruin; for my virtue and modesty being gone, I had nothing left to recommend myself to God or man,

After which I went and bought the neck-cloths, and was home soon enough not to be suspected, and my lov­er stayed out till late at night, flushed with wine and pleasure. Afterwards we made use of all opportunities to renew our unlawful pleasures for above half a year, [Page 12] and yet all this while I proved not with child. When his younger brother finding me alone in the garden one evening, began to talk to me of love, and prop [...]sed to marry me, which I resisted with great obstinacy, and reasoned with him on the inequality of such a match and the ingratitude I should be guilty of in marrying the [...] of such a gentleman who, had taken me into the house in such [...] deplorable condition; but there happen'd a dif­ficulty which I did not expect, for this young man made no scruple of owning it publickly, and though they could not prove I had ever given him any encourage­ment, yet I found their behaviour towards me more un­kind than ever before, and I understood by one of the sisters, that in a little time I should be desired to remove.

This did not at all trouble me, knowing that I should be provided for, and that if I should prove with child I must then go away with disgrace: but the young gentle­man coming to me, said, Since it was known, he was not asham'd to own it, and that if I would have him, he was bred up to the law, and could maintain me, let his father and mother be pleas'd or not, he was not afraid to make me his wife, which words he spoke so cordially, that I began to repent of my conversation with his elder brother, but I could not bear to think of being a Miss to one brother and a wife to the other, beside, I still imag­ined the elder would marry me; but then I remembered he had not said one word of that since I was his mistress.

I was now, to be sure, in a great strait, the one laid close siege to me, and declar'd it publickly, which the other could not be ignorant of altho' he took no notice of it; upon which I began to think for the first time, nev­er having done [...] before, and resolved to tell him of it, which I had an opportunity to do, very lucki­ly the next day,. ( [...]he whole family being gone to Lon­don) he came as usual to spend an hour or two with me; but he soon perceiv'd an alteration in my countenance and that I had been crying and taking notice of it, en­quir'd very tenderly what was the matter, which I would now have concealed, but it was not to be done, he still persisting to [...] the cause of my grief and in reality I was willing [...]e should, tho' I pretended otherwise, but [Page 13] at last I told him, that indeed I was troubled, and I had great reason to be so, for I knew not what course to take unless he would direct me, upon which he bade me not to be troubled, for he would protect me, be it what it will.

I then began to speak more freely, and told him I was afraid we were discovered, for I was remov'd from his sister's bed, to lie with one of the maids, who told me she heard I was to be turned away, and that his mother said, it was not safe to keep me in the house; at which he smil'd, and said No, my dear, we are not so much as suspected, it is my brother Robin, who has been so silly to own his love to you, and is always vexing them, which makes them so unkind to you.

I know that too, said I, but this is not all, your broth­er has not only the vanity to be confident of my being his wife, but has the folly to tell every body, notwith­standing I have so often given him a flat denial which when they understand, they will presently imagine there is something else in it, or I would never refuse a match so much above me; which surpriz'd him so that he own­ed, he did not well know what way he should take, but he would consider of it, and in the mean time advised me not to consent, nor yet be rude to his brother, but keep him in suspense for a while; at which words I seem'd to be very uneasy, saying, He knew very well I had no con­sent to give, that he had promis'd to marry me, and that he all along persuaded me to call myself his wife.

He pacify'd me as well as he could, telling me if he were not my husband, he would be as good as a husband to me, & then he gave me money; but he never offer'd to touch me, although we were two hours together, which I wondered at, considering how he used to be, and what opportunity we had.

In about a week's time his brother came from Lon­don, when he took an opportunity to talk with him, tell­ing him, That he heard strange news, that he made love to Miss Betty, which the youngest frankly owned, but I find says he, some do concern themselves about it, and use the poor girl ill, which I take as done to myself. But tell me truly, do you really love the girl? you may be [Page 14] free with me you know. Why then, says Robin, I do love her above all the women in the world, and will have [...] them say what they will; I believe the girl will not deny me.

Next time we met, he told me what discourse had pas­sed betwixt Robin, and him, which sh [...]ck me to the heart, and made me say, does he think I cannot deny him! he shall find I can for I have learned to say No now, though I had not learned it before; but what can you say to them, says he, when they find you positive a­gainst a match that would be so much to your advantage [...] I own says I, I should be at a loss; but I am not obliged to give them my reason at all: on the other hand. I may tell them I am married already, and that will be a stop to any further enquiry; and now I have acquainted you with the circumstances let me have your advice.

I have been [...] very much on it, you may be s [...]re, said he, and though it is a piece of advice that has a great many mortifications in it to me, yet all things consider'd, I see no other way than to let him go on, and do not deny him at first.

I thought I should have sunk at those words, and im­mediately turned as pale as death, my dear says he don't be surprised at what I said, I would have you consider seriously, you may see plainly how the family stand, and for ought I know, your denying my brother would be my ruin and your's too: Consider, my dear, by marry­ing my brother you will come into a safe [...]ation, and appear with honor and splendor at once, and the rememb­rance of what we have done may be wrapt up in an eter­nal silence, as if it had never happened; and you shall always have my respect, and sincere affection, only then if shall be honest, and perfectly just to my brother; you shall be my [...] then, as now you are my dear—and here he [...].

Your dear Miss, says I, you would have said, if you had gone on, and you might as well have said it; for I understand you: However, I desire you to remember the long [...]courses you have had with me, and the many [...] you have taken to persuade me to believe myself an hon­est woman, and to [...] myself your wife [...] If then I have [Page 15] yielded to the importunities of my affections, and have been persuaded to call myself your Wise, shall I now give the lie to all these arguments and call myself a Miss, and though you may transfer me to your brother, you cannot transfer my affection to make me love him. Is it in my power, think you, to make such a change at demand? No, said I, it is impossible, and whatever the change on your side may be, I will ever be true; and I had much rather be your Miss, since it is come to that, than your brother's wife.

Notwithstanding all my reproaches, he replied again, my dear, I have not broken one promise with you yet; I did tell you I would marry you when I was come to my estate; but you see my father is a firm healthy man, and may live these thirty years still, and not be older than several are round us in the town; and you never proposed my marrying you sooner, because you know it might be my ruin; and as to all the rest, I have not failed you in any; you have wanted for nothing.

He told me he had but one question then to ask me that could lie in the way of it, and if that question were an­swered in the negative, he could not but think still it was the only step I could take. I guessed at the question presently, namely, whether I were sure I was not with child? I told him he need not be concerned about that, for I was not; with this he took his leave, by reason of his mother and sisters ringing just then at the gate. He left me in the utmost confusion of thought from Tues­day till Sunday, when all the family, but himself, went to church, and then he had me an hour and an half again by myself; and after falling into divers arguments, I asked him what opinion he could have of my modesty; that he could suppose I could entertain a thought of ly­ing with two brothers? and assured him it could never be.

Being surprized at my obstinacy, as he called it, he told me it was such an unlooked for crisis, that he did not see any other way to save us both from ruin; and that if he must say no more of it, he knew of nothing else we had to talk of, and so he rose up to take his leave; I rose up too, as if with the same indifference, but when [Page 16] he came to give me, as it were, the parting kiss, I [...] vehemently, and, tho I would have spoken, could not, and only pressing his hand, seemed to give him the adieu.

He was sensibly moved with this, so he sat down again, and said a great many things to me, to abate the excess of my passion; but letting me plainly see that he would decline me in the main point, nay, even as mis­tress, making it a point of honor not to [...] with the wo­man, that for ought he knew might come to be his bro­ther's wife.

The bare loss of him as a gallant was not so much my affliction, as the loss of his person, whom indeed I loved to distraction, and the loss of all the expectations I had of having him one day for my husband; These things oppressed my mind so much, that I fell into a high fever, so that none in the family expected my life. I was reduced very low, and was often delirious and light­headed, about the end of five weeks I grew better, but was so weak, and recovered so slowly, that the physicians apprehended I should go into a consumption; and which vexed me most, they gave it as their opinion, that I was in love; upon this they were all set on to examine me, and press me to tell whether I were in love or not; but I denied my being in love at all.

They had, on this occasion, like to have put the whole family in an uproar; for happening to be all at table, but the father, when the maid told the old gentlewom­an that I could not eat what her ladyship had sent up: Alas! says she, that poor girl I am afraid, will never be well; why, says the elder brother, how should she be well? they say she is in love. I believe nothing of it, says the old gentlewoman. I don't know, says the elder sister, what to say to it [...] they have made such a rout a­bout her being handsome, and that in her hearing too, that it has turned the creature's head, I believe: Why, sister, you must acknowledge she is very handsome, says the elder brother: Ay, much handsomer than you, sister, says Robin, and that's your mortification: She is well enough says his sister; she need not be told of it to make her vain: We are not talking of her being vain, says the elder brother, but of her being in love: I would she were [Page 17] in love with me, says Robin, I'd quickly put her out of pain: What do you mean by that says the old lady, how can you talk so? Why, says Robin, do you think I'd let the girl die for love, and or one who is so near at hand too: I find, says the elder sister, if Betty be not in love, my brother is: I wonder he has not broken his mind to Betty, I warrant she wont say No: They who yield when they are asked, says Robin, are one step before them who were never asked, and that's an answer to you. This fired the sister, and she flew into a passion, saying, since things were come to that pass, it was time the wench, meaning me, was removed.

It run a great deal farther, and poor Betty lost ground by it extremely, I heard of it and cried heartily, and the old lady came up to me I complained to her, that it was very hard the doctors should pass such a censure up­on me, for which they had no ground, and that I had more need to think of a coffin than of being in love. She desired I would answer her one question: I told her I would which was, whether there were any thing between her son Robert and me? I told her there was not, nor ever had been; adding that Mr. Robert had rattled, as she knew it w [...] his way, and I took it to be a wild airy way of [...]course which had no signification in it. The old lady was fully satisfied, and took her leave; but when she came down she found the brothers and sisters togeth­er by the ear; but her coming put a stop to it, telling them all the discourse she had with me, and that I said there was nothing between Mr. Robert and me, but Robert ramble, so in his discourse that no body know [...] whether he be in earnest or jest. It is in vain to tell any more lies about it; I am in earnest; and if Miss Betty would marry me, I would have her to-morrow morning fasting: Well, says the mother, then there's one son lost: I hope not, says he, when a good wife has found him: Why says the old lady, she is a beggar: She has more need of [...], says he: It is bad jesting with such things, says she; I don't jest, says he, but I am afraid she won't have me: Betty is no fool, says the youngest sister: But she may be engaged some other way▪ Nay says the eldest [Page 18] sister, we can say nothing to that; she is never out doors; it must be between you; I have been examined enough, says Robin, there is my brother, go to work with him.

This stung the elder brother, who concluded that Ro­bin had discovered something: P [...]ithee, says he, do not [...] your [...]ories upon me, I deal in no such ware, and with that he went off. No, says the elder sister, my brother knows the world better.

Thus the discourse ended, leaving the elder brother quite confounded; and one day his eldest sister going up stairs, he runs after her, hark ye sister, says he, may not a body see this sick woman? Yes, says she, so entering my chamber, I would have gotten up off he chain, but was so weak I could not for a good while; do not strive to stand, says she, my brother desires no [...], says he, and he sat down in a chair over against me, and appeared as if he were merry; saying poor Mrs. betty, it is a sad thing to be in love. I am glad to [...] you merry, sir, says I, but I think the doctor might have found something else to do than to make game of his pa­tients. He then invited me to sing; I [...] my [...] days were over; He ask'd me if he should play upon his flute, to which I consenting, he gave his sister the key of his closet to fetch it: As soon as she was gone, he related the discourse his brother had about me, which was the reason of his contriving this visit to me: I told him I heard that when I was well I must quit the fami­ly; he was going to reply but his sister entered the room, and told him she could not find the [...]; another time will do as well, says [...] his sister on this errand, was only to have an oppor­tunity of speaking to me.

At last I broke the way for my removing, where up­on the old lady told me she feared I was melancholy on her son Robert's account, and desired me to let her know how matters stood with us both: I told her Mr. Rob­ert had several times proposed marriage to me, but I told him I would never entertain such a thought, unless I had your consent and his father's also; Then says she, yo [...] have been more just to us than we have been to you; for we all looked upon you as a snare to my son: As to [Page 19] the truth of what I say, I refer you to your son, and if he do me justice, he must tell the story just as I have done.

The old lady told her daughters what I said, and they were surprised at it and said they would never believe it and would warrant that Robin would tell the story an­other way; but the old gentlewoman who was resolved to go to the bottom of it, before I should have an oppor­tunity of speaking to him, sent immediately for her son. As soon as he came, says the old lady I must have some talk with you; I hope it is about a good wi [...]e, says he for I am at a great loss in [...]: How can that be, says his mother, don't you [...] you resolve to marry Betty; Ay, says he, but [...] yield upon any terms, except such [...] says she, [...] are th [...]se [...] bring my fath­er and you to consent to it, says he which I suppose I shall never be able to [...] This answer was surprising to them all, [...] says the mother again, would you to [...] have her as you pretend! I must declare that I am in earnest, and that I will have no one cue.

The [...] thus broken out, the mother proposed to the elder brother to talk to me about it, which was as well as he could [...]; and coming [...] after into the [...] he had a long [...] I would not [...] with [...] we should be both [...] and then [...] whole story between Robin and his mother [...]; And now, my dear, says, [...] will be to marry a gentleman of a good family [...] with the consent of the [...] would [...] he gave me 50 [...]l. on account of [...] prom­ise, towards my mainta [...]nance, [...] ne­ver speak to me more; which last word were [...] small sur­prise to me, and I could scarcely avoid falling down, which disorder he food perceived, and [...] [Page 20] well of it, saying, it was the surest way to preserve our mutual affection, and that we might [...] as friends, tho not as lovers; and thus he wrought me by a thousand kind sayings, as, he should be a debtor to me as long as he [...]ved, and that he owed [...] to my com­plying; till at length he reasoned me out of my reason­ing, and [...] answered all my objections, so that he pre­vailed with me to consent, tho I cannot say but with some reluctance; and soon after Mr. Robert and I were married with the consent of his parents, which was no sooner over than I began to fear whether my spouse should challenge me upon a former account when we were in bed together; but this his elder brother had taken care to prevent, by making him very drunk so that he was not capable of knowing.*********

In the five years he lived I had two children by him, and we lived very comfortably together; [...] he had no fortune from his friends I did not find myself at his [...] than I was [...] sore, for with the [...] bill his brother gave me, to consent [...] gave me before and what my husband left me, I found myself worth about [...] pounds, and my husband's friends has taken the two children off my hands, I was now let [...] to the world. So being still young and handsome, as every body [...] of me, and I cannot but say I thought myself so, and having a tolerable fortune beside, I put no small val­ue upon myself, and my husband's elder brother being married before my husband died, I could have no [...] of him: I now admitted several courtiers to visit me, having soon forgotten my husband, whom I cannot say I ever loved as I ought to have dare, tho he was a very [...] and tender husband to me, amongst whom was a [...] draper at [...] house after my husband's death, I [...] where I had all the opportunity to make [...] that I could desire, my landlord's sister being the pleasantest creature alive, and brought home several gentlemen to see her pretty widow as [...]he called me, by whom I was wonderfully care [...]ed, and had abundance [...], but I found not a man of honor amongst them, and I had gained too much experience to be drawn in a [Page 21] second time; I had been tricked once by the cheat, love, and was resolved never to be so again; I had now money in my pocket, and no proposals could deceive me but what were honourable. I cannot but say I loved the company of men of mirth and wit, but I always found that such came upon unlawful terms, and they who came otherwise, were a parcel of the dullest souls I ever met with. I was not altogether averse to a tradesman, provided he were genteel, and had not the marks of his apronstrings about him when he took me abroad with him and seemed a fellow that carried his trade in his countenance.

At last I was catched in the very snare I laid for a­nother, by a draper, an acquaintance of my comrade's; for altho her brother had made some pretences, it was for a mistress, and that would not go down with one that had bitten of the bridle and had now money to make herself a wife, though I soon found my mistake, and had better been sold by my comrade to her brother, than have sold myself to a tradesman, who was a Rake, Gentleman, Shop-keeper, and Beggar all together.

I was hurried on to ruin, by my own fancy in the maddest manner that ever woman was; for my hus­band coming into a lump of money at once, thought it would never be day, and spent so extravagantly, that had I given him all I had at first, it would have lasted but a year. Indeed at first, he was very fond of me, and would coach me up and down in the country with a ret­inue as if he were a nobleman, and spent as such, till at length he was arrested, and put into a spunging house, where he sent for me and told me plainly, that he fore­saw he could not hold it, and he advised me in the night to take away every thing of value in the house and shop I could; and a for his part he was resolved to get out of that miserable place one way or the other, and if I never heard of him more, he wished me well, and was only sorry for the injury he had done me.

Taking my leave of him, I did as he bade me and in the night he get away from the [...] and came home, and removed what things I had left to the [...] which he [...] and with the money g [...]t ever to [...] [Page 22] from whence I had one or two letters, and never heard of him any more.

In the first letter, he sent me word where he had pawned twenty pieces of fine Holland for thirty pounds, of which I made one hundred, with which, and all that I had carried off myself, and what money I had, I could not make above five hundred pounds, and what was worse a tho I had no children by him I was a widow bewitched, had a husband and no husband, and I could not pretend to marry again tho I was sure my husband durst never see England again; and besides, I was in­formed, that if the creditors could have found me, they would seize me, till I delivered up what I carried off, which made me take shelter in a private place in the mint, where I went in the habit of a widow, and chang­ed my name to that of Flanders.

Notwithstanding I endeavored to be as private as I could, I soon got a great deal of acquaintance, and found that an agreeable woman in the [...] was as val­uable as in the city, and that they who could not pay a shilling in the pound to their creditors, could find half a crown to spend at the B [...]ll, if they liked the woman they had in company; yet I kept myself safe, altho I began like Rochester's mistress, to have the scandal of a Miss without the pleasure, which made me think of leaving that place, which was so disagreeable as well as the company.

It was often matter of wonder to see men, whose families were objects of their own error and others char­ity endeavouring to drown their sorrow in their wicked­ness; but it is none of my talent to preach, this place was ever too wicked for me, there was something hor­rid in their way of sinning [...] they did not only often act against conscience but against nature; nay, in the midst of their lewdness, I have heard one fetch a deep sigh, and cry, what a dog am I? then fail to drink­ing again, with company in the same condition with themselves.

I was not wicked enough, as yet, for this sort of com­pany, and finding that I began daily to waste, I resolv­ed to be gone, but where, I did not know, till getting ac­quainted [Page 23] with a good sort of a woman, whose husband had been a sea captain, but losing his ship and cargo, was forced to take shelter in that place: she invited me to go home with her, where she told me I might live privately enough, and it was twenty to one but I might marry some rich sea-captain or other; which I readily accepted of, and was with her half a year; but what she proposed to me happened to herself, and I found noth­ing but two or three boatswains, or such fellows, that courted me in that part, for the captains seldom marry any, but such as have fortunes, or those who have rela­tions that are owners of ships, neither of which was my case, and so I was likely so lie on hand, beside I found that little I had daily grew less.

I soon perceived that love had no share in this part of the world, and that wit, beauty, good humour or any thing, without money, had no power to recommend; and that money would make any deformity in a wise agree­able, though not in a mistress, and as the market run all on the men's side, it was a favor for a woman to have the question, if the dared to say no, she would never have an opportunity of denying again; besides, I ob­served that men made no scruple of going a fortune [...], when they had no fortune themselves, and they now-a-days carried it so high, that a woman durst not enquire after the character of her spark, of which I had an example in a young lady of two thousand pounds fortune, with whom I had contracted an intimacy, who was courted by a young captain, [...] she enquiring of his character, among some of his neighbor's, and he hear­ing of it, told her, the next visit, he would have no more to say to her, and so left her, which she told me the next time I saw her, and [...] he was gone to court one of a less fortune.

I endeavored to fortify her mind against taking it to heart, and told her there were a hundred ways for a woman to be revenged on a man who used her ill; which pleased her very much, and she told me she would be very glad I would either put her in a way to recover him, and make him sensible of his ill usage, or to have the satisfaction of a revenge as public as possible.

[Page 24] I told her then, that as he had reported among the ladies he had left her, the way to recover him, which I found she was desirous to do, was to report that she had enquired into his circumstances, and found he was not so good a man as he pretended to be, or as she expected, and that he was of an ill temper, and made it his business in all companies to degrade the ladies of his acquaint­ance, and that he was a debauched follow, which al­though it was true, yet I did not find that she liked him the worse for it. This advice worked upon her imme­diately, and took beyond expectation, for she wanted not her agents to publish it abroad, neither was she wanting to do it herself wherever she came, so that it soon be­came the chat of the tea-table over all that part of the town: and to help her at a [...], I reported also wherever I went, that I heard he was not in to good cir­cumstances as was commonly reported, and that if he did not marry [...] he was likely to lose his ship, for his part in her was not yet paid for, which if he did not be­fore he [...] his che [...]mate would command her, who offered to buy the captain's part; besides, said I, there is something worse, for people say he has a wife at Ply­mouth and another in the West-Indies, which is what u­sually happens to men in that employment. These re­ports soon answered our end, and indeed more than we purposed; for his new [...] was watched carefully by her guardians, and he was forbidden the house, and an­other lady, to whom he had made [...] pretentions [...] him a flat denial, and wherever he went he was looked upon with disdain, as a [...] that was not worth en­tertaining.

He soon found his mistake and could not tell how to help himself, and therefore resolved to try his fortune on the other side of the water; but there his luck [...] as before for although he met with many [...] there he could have liked, yet they all wanted [...], and this was what he wanted as much as a wi [...]e, if not more.

[...], the young lady got a relation, whom [...] into the secret to visit her, in his chariot two or three times a week, and I spread it abroad that he came to cou [...]t her, and that he was a gentleman of a the [...] [Page 25] year, which so [...] he was ready to hang himself; but not knowing [...] come at her again, he wrote several letters to [...] till [...] he was admitted to wait on her only to hear what he had to say for himself, when she played her part more like a tyrant than a lover, asking [...] how he could have the impudence to see her again, who had used her so ungen­erously and left her on no other account than upon her [...] to enquire into his circumstances: Do you think, said she, marriage is of [...], and that a woman ought to marry every man who asks her the [...] And [...] she related to [...] reports that had been spread [...] told him, unless he [...], he should find [...]

At which the [...] so confounded, that he could not say a word, [...] all was true that was [...] of him, [...] at length recovering him [...] became one of the most [...] by which she soon brought him to [...] account of his circum­stances and behaviour

By this project I convinced her, that if man thought women so easy to be gotten it was owing to their want of courage to maintain their ground and that according to Rochester.

A woman's ne'er so ruin'd, but she can,
Revenge herself in her [...], Man.

Afterwards she played her part so well, that though she resolved to have him, yet she kept him at the great­est distance, not by a haughty carriage but by a just pol­icy, and pretending to enquire strictly into his affairs, she prevented him to look into her own, and as she had left no room to ask any more questions about her for­tune, she took the advantage, and placed part of it in the care of trustees, without letting him know any thing of it; by which management, he was not only more ob­sequious to her in his courtship, but proved a most tender and loving husband.

Nothing is more certain, than that women have the [Page 26] advantage of men by keeping their ground; for no man of sense will value a woman the less, for not giving up herself at the first attack; 'tis nothing but want of re­solution, and the fear of never being married at all, and dying an old maid. In short, there is no woman if she manage well, but may be married safely one time or other, and if they don't marry so soon as they would, they may make themselves amends by marrying more safely; but if a woman won't give herself time to think, but take the first bidder, it is [...] to one but she is undone for ever.

But to return to my own case wherein there was at this time no little nicety: My present condition being not so good as I desired, made the offer of a good hus­band very acceptable, but I knew by experience, to be made cheap was not the way. I cannot say, but most acknowledged that the widow was well bred, handsome, witty, modest, and in every thing agreeable, but what was worst of all, they got a notion that the widow had no money, and without that, I found that I was likely to come but to a [...] that place.

I communicated my thoughts of removing, to the captain's lady, whom I had just before served and I frankly told her, that I had not above 500 pounds, left besides a gold watch, and some jewels, cloths, and linen, all not worth above a hundred more, who be­ing sorry for my low circumstances, made me several [...] presents, and one evening, in conversation, told me, as we had formerly observed [...] made no scruple to cheat the women, so that it was just to do the like by them, for what was sauce for the goose was sauce for the [...] in short, she said if I would be ruled by her, I [...] soon get a man of fortune, without bringing any scandal upon myself, which I told her I was ready to do, and that I would wholly follow her directions, not doubt­ing but she would extricate me out of any difficulty she might bring me into, which, with a great deal of sinceri­ty she told me she would.

She advised me to go to a relation of her's in the country, where I should pass for her cousin and she and her husband would come and visit me, and she ordered [Page 27] it so, that he should invite me to London, and make him believe that I was a fortune worth two thousand pounds, and had a great deal more in expectation, which is better, said she, than to tell the bell man; for my hus­band, I know his temper, will not fail to publish it to all his acquaintance, so that I had nothing to do but set still and wait the event; and accordingly so it happened, for it was presently rumoured over all the neighborhood, that the young widow was a great fortune, and that the captain told them so, which he did, but he knew noth­ing of the matter; however it soon brought me abun­dance of admirers, amongst whom my business was to single out one that was most proper for my purpose, and which I did, without much difficulty, from the judg­ment I made of his courtship, for he pretended that he loved me above all the world, tho I knew it was the money he wanted more than me; I told him it was the custom of men to say so to every woman, and that it was my fortune more than my person that he admired. He protested it was not, and that he would marry me had I not a farthing. I was glad to hear him say that; and then he pulls off his diamond ring, and writes on the glass

You I love, and you alone;

Which I answer'd with the same ring;

And so, in love, so [...] every one.
He.
Virtue alone is an estate.
She.
But money's virtue, gold is [...]ate.
H [...].
I scorn your gold, and yet I love.
She.
I'm poor let's see [...] you'll prove.
He.
[...] mine with all your poverty.
She.
Yet secretly, you hope, I lye:
He.
Let love alone be our tribute.
She.
She loves enough who does not hate.

This he took for a favour, and fell a kissing me, pro­testing I was the wittiest woman he ever met with in his life; & indeed he was the best humoured man I ever met with which made me believe he would more easily take the disappointment than a fiery tempered wretch, who had nothing to recommend him, but ill humours enough to make a woman miserable.

[Page 28] He pursued me [...] after that, and I trifled with him longer that I [...] to have done that I might foreclose any object [...], when he should come to discover my circumstances; however, I took the freedom one day to tell him, that though he had often protested he would marry me without any fortune, yet I hoped he would give me leave to ask him some questions, which he might answer or not, as he thought fit, which were, wh [...]ther he designed to live in England or Virginia? where I told him, I did not care to be transported.

He frankly owned that most of his estate was in Vir­ginia, which brought him in about three hundred pounds a year, but if [...] it, it would bring in a thou­sand, which I told him was too much for one of my fortune, and that he would do better to marry a lady of that country; he [...] he did not ask me what my fortune was, because at first he told me he never would, but that he would never go to Virginia without my consent, or desire me to go unless I were willing. All which was as I desired, and which I mention, only to put the ladies in mind that nothing but want of courage makes our sex so cheap and ill used, as they often are; for had I really discovered what my fortune was at the first, I had certainly been neglected; yet afterwards I locked him so fast, that I am satisfied he would have had me in my worst circumstances.

In short we were married, and he proved the best hu­moured man that ever woman had; but his circum­stances were not so good as I imagined, and he did not better himself much by [...]e. We had not been married above a fortnight before I thought it time to discover to him my little stock which I did not know how to bring about, but one day I said to him in the midst of our amours, my dear, I wonder you never ask me after my portion, your time for that, child, [...] he. I am satis­fied. I have the wife I love; I never shall trouble you [...] with inquiry after that.

That's true, said I, but I am much troubled about it; I am told that the captain has informed you I had a great dea [...] more money than ever I pretended to have. What then, said he; if you have not so much, I have [Page 29] no body to blame but myself. That's so generous, said I, that my not having more is a double affliction to me. The less you have, said he, smiling, is the worse for us both; but I hope you don't think I shall be unkind to you upon that account; perhaps I may tell the captain he has cheated me, but I shall never say so to you. Well, said I, my dear, you cannot say I have cheated you; but to satisfy you I am not so poor as you might imagine, here is two hundred pounds in bank [...] telling him there was something for him, and that not all, which was doubly welcome, because he owned he expected nothing, and in two or three days more I brought him home a hundred pounds more in gold, and in a week after I fetched him two hundred pounds more; and now, my dear, said I, I am sorry to tell you I have given you my all. I added, that I had lost five hundreds in a per­son's hands, with whom I had entrusted it; which so obliged him, that he [...] it very thankfully. By which management you see how I got over the fraud of passing for a fortune, which I take to be one of the most dangerous steps a woman can take, because she runs the hazard of being ill used afterwards.

My husband finding his return from his plantations not to answer his expectations, any more than my for­tune, discovered his inclinations to go to look after them, which I readily agreed to and told him to make him amends for his disappointment in my fortune, I would willingly go along with him. At which he said a thou­sand kind things to me, assuring me, that tho he was disappointed in the expectations of a fortune, he was not in that of a wife.

In short we agreed to go, and he told me he had a very good house well furnished, in which his mother then lived, but she would remove to another plantation which was to be his after her decease; which was all true. In our passage, we met with two terrible storms, and a pirate who took away most of our provisions, and what was worse, had like to have taken away my hus­band; but at length we arrived in York river, and were received with all the tokens of affection by his mother, [Page 30] with whom we lived some time very comfortably, for she was a good sort of a woman, and I would not let her go to another plantation, for she used to divert me with abundance of stories, as well of the country as the people; among the rest, she told me how the colony came at first to be inhabited; and said, the people were originally such as are brought over by masters of ships to be sold as servants, or felons that are transported, amongst whom we make no difference, said she, they work together in the field and when their time is out, they have land to form a plantation given them for themselves: hence child, said she, many a Newgate Bird becomes a great man, and several of our justices have been burnt in the hand, and indeed said she, I was one of them myself, for being too busy with what was none of my own, I was convicted a criminal, and here, said she, is the mark of it, shewing me her hand. This made me enquire more particularly into her own case who frankly told me, that her mother using to send her often abroad, she had fallen into very ill company at London in her youthful days, for which she was sent to New­gate and condemned to die, but pleading pregnancy, she was ordered for transportation, and forced to leave her child, who, said she, with tears in her eyes, I fear was soon starved to death, for that Newgate is a miserable place, and breeds more rogues and thieves than all the clubs of villains in the land, and then she went on in so particular a manner, that I began to be very uneasy, but when she came to tell her name, I thought I should have sunk down in the earth, which she easily perceived, and asked me if I were not well: I told her I was so affected with her melancholy story, that it had somewhat disor­dered me, why, said she, my dear, these things were long before your time, and I look back on them with pleasure. And then she goes on, and tells how she came to marry her master, by whom she had my husband; to which I did not give much attention because I wanted to retire and give vent to my passion, which you may imagine was very great when I concluded this must cer­tainly be my mother, and I had now two children, and was with the third by my brother.

[Page 31] I leave it to any one to judge what difficulties I was in; if I discovered it, I could expect nothing less than to lose my husband, for he was too honest a man to lie with his sister; and on the other hand [...] she had doubt­ed me I had been undone; and I [...] too sure of the fact for though I was not so much touched with the crime, yet the action had something in it so shocking to nature, that the very thoughts of it made my husband nauseous to me, however I resolved to conceal it, and let nobody know, which I did for three years longer.

In the mean time, my husband grew jealous, without any other reason but that I was not [...] fo [...]d of him as formerly, [...] nothing prospered which we took in hand. These reasons made me claim my promise; that if I did not like Virginia I should return to England when I pleased, insisting that he used me ill, and was jealous without any cause, which I insisted upon so positively, that he could not avoid giving me an answer. He used all his rhetoric to persuade me to the contrary, but all in vain; for he was become so loathsome to me, that I would not let him touch me in bed, which at last put him so out of humour, that he resolved I should not go to England, saying, it would unhinge his affairs, and ruin the whole family, which touched me very much; but [...] he knew nothing of the reasons that prompted me to take such measures.

Many say, it is impossible to make a woman change her mind, when once she is set upon a thing, and so it was with me, which provoked my husband so far, that he called me the most unnatural woman in the world, to leave a husband, and what was worse, two children, with a design never to see them more. About this we had several family quarrels, which at last grew to such a height, that we both did what we could to provoke one another, till at length I refused to bed with him, which so enraged him, that he told me I was mad, and that he would have me in a mad-house, which so fright­ened me, that I resolved to lay open my whole case, but to whom I did not know: however, the next quarrel, I told him enough to make him uneasy as well as my­self, and that as for my behaviour towards him and my [Page 32] children, there was something in it more than he knew, for I did not look upon him to be my lawful husband, or they my lawful children; which made him look as pale as death, [...] stand as one thunderstruck, and when he had recovered himself he told me, I had given him a mortal wound, and desired to know the meaning of it, which I excused, saying, I found I had told him too much already. He said he supposed he knew what it was and that I had another husband alive, which I as­sured him was false. Upon which he asked me, if I on­ly did it to provoke him? But I would give him no answer, unless he would promise to let me go to Eng­land. At length he set his mother on me, but I present­ly stopt her mouth, te [...]ling her she knew the secret [...], and that it was owing to her I concealed it, which struck her dumb, and she could not tell what to say, but at length I agreed to reveal it to her, if she would prom­ise not to tell her son of it without my consent, to which she agreed, and after a great many preliminaries, I told her the whole story.

First I rehearsed her own story, and her London names, and that my trouble was all upon that account, and then I told her my own name and assured her that I could be no other, than her daughter born in New­gate, who had saved her front the gallows by being in her, and in what manner she left me when she was transported.

Unhappy child, said she, what destiny brought thee hither? and to be my son's wife, we are all undone and thus she run on a long [...]; neither had I any power to speak, and so we parted with sorrowful hearts, she then desiring me not to speak of it, till she consid­ered further.

It was not long before we had a second conference, when she began to tell the story quite otherwise; but I refreshed her memory so that she could not go from it; and then she began to fall into her agonies; saying, she was the most miserable creature in the world; which being [...]ver, we began to consult what was best to be done. My mother begged of me to bury the whole thing in oblivion, till a more favorable opportunity [Page 33] should offer to discover it to my husband, and that if I would do so, she would leave me all she had at her death; which I told her was impossible, and asked her how she [...] imagine I could bear the thoughts of lying with my brother, and begged she would use her endeavor [...] with her son to give me leave to go to Eng­land, which was the only expedient that I knew of, that was left to make us all easy, and that when I was gone she might discover the whole matter to him, which would prevent his slighting the children: to which my mother could not for a long time agree, she insisting it was impossible to bring him to consent to my going to England; and I, that I could never lie with him as a husband.

A length I resolved that I would tell him of it my­self, which put my mother in a sad fright, but said I, I will do it when he is in a good humour, so that I did not question succeeding; as we might part with consent, and both still love as brother and sister, though he could not as husband and wife.

All this while my husband was very uneasy to know what I meant by [...] he was not my lawful husband, but my mother gave him good words, and put him off from time to time, telling him he might thank himself for his ill usage in saying he would send me to the mad house.

He vowed he had no such design, whatever he might say in his passion, and that he would be kinder to me for the time to come, and indeed he was, but I durst not let him meddle with me, for sear of being with child by him again, and therefore I found there was absolute necess [...]y of letting him into the secre [...], which I did one evening as we were sitting under a little auning at the entrance of the gardes, where he was saying a great many kind things to me, when I fetched a deep sigh, and told him no body could be more delighted than I was in his company, nor more afflicted now I knew we ma [...] part, for there was something in our circumstances which I knew not how to Impart to him, which render­ed us both very miserable. He pressed me to tell him, [Page 34] which I told him I could not do, for while he knew nothing of it, he would not be unhappy, and therefore it was more kind to keep it from him: He said I could not be kind [...] him if I concealed it from him, saying let it be what it will, it shall no more interrupt our quiet or mutual kindness.

I told him I was glad to hear him say so, and if he would promise me one thing I would discover it, tho' it was the most against my inclinations of any thing in the world. What is that? said he, and I promise you I will do it. Then, said I, my dear, you must hear it patient­ly, and not be angry with your mother, or me, or your­self, since we are all innocent. I will not, said he, provided you keep me no longer in suspence, which is more terrifying than the thing itself can be.

Prepare then to hear it: You remember in my passion I told you I was not your lawful wi [...]e nor your children legal children, which indeed they are not, for I am your sister, and we are both children of one mother, who is now in the house and convinced of the truth.

At which I saw him turn pale and look wildly when I put him in mind of his promise to bear it with patience, and got him a glass of P [...]um to comfort his spirits, and then I told him, how my mother came to discover it to me; and now my dear said I, you may see reasons for my capitulations.

I am fully satisfy'd of that, said he but 'tis strange sur­prize to me; however I know a remedy, and that shall put an end to all, looking wildly at the same time, and going hastily from me, he went to hang himself, which he had done had not his mother luckily gone into the room in the very moment, and cut him down with the help of a negro-servant.

We were all in a very deplorable condition, and my love to him began to revive at first, but it threw him in­to a deep melancholy, and had likely to have cost him his life, which made me importune him to let me go to England, as the only mean to recover his health, and make us both easy; which at length he agreed to, and gave me a very good cargo to bear the expence of my voyage.

[Page 35] We agreed, before we parted, that some time after I arrived, he should pretend to have an account that I was dead, and that he might marry again when he would, and he pomised to assist me, as long as he lived, and if he died before me, he would leave sufficient to take care of me, which indeed he did.

In two and thirty days I arrived in England, and had a pretty good voyage, meeting with but one or two storms, and those on the coasts or Ireland.

I had now a new scene of life upon my hands, and not above three hundred pounds in the world that I was sure of, and not a friend in the world to advise with me; but business calling me to Bristol, where the ship was un­loaded, I determined, afterwards to go to the Bath, where something I thought might offer, which I did not foresee, for I had still a gaiety in my temper, tho' no fortune to support it, where I stayed the season, and contracted some unhappy acquaintance, which rather promoted the follies I fell afterwards into, than fortified me against them.

I got acquainted with a woman, in whose house I lodg­ed who was not one of the best, though she did not keep a bad house, where there was a gentleman lodged, who always singled me out for the diversion of my company, and his conversation, I confess, was as agreea­ble to me, as mine could be to him, and there was noth­ing but modesty for a long time pass'd between us; he would indeed frequently come into my chamber, even when I was in bed, yet he never offered any thing to me further than a kiss, of which I frequently took notice to my landlady; and she answered me that he was a man of strict honor and very good estate, and therefore I ought to oblige him, for it was my interest so to do. I answered I had never told him how my circumstances were; Oh! then, said she, I will for I had let her in part know how my condition stood, which she did soon after, and the next time we met he earnestly enquired how I lived, and whether I did not want money? I told him not as yet; for altho' my cargo was damaged in the storm, yet it was not quite lost, and that I hoped I should make it hold out till more was come.

[Page 36] Not long after he attacked me again, and assured me he enquired into my condition, for no desire to satisfy his own curiosity, but to assist me if there were occasion; and that if at any time I should find myself streightned, he begged I would be so kind as to let him know, and I should always find a friend of him; but yet I could not do it, though I was glad of his offer, I must own.

In a little time my landlady, unknown to me came into the room, when we were both together, crying out, O widow, I have bad news to tell you, the virginia fleet is taken by the French, and the man you sent to Bristol for money is come back without it. I cannot help that, said I, I have about twenty guineas left, and I will pay you presently.

The next morning he began to talk of it again, and said he had heard the same at the coffee-house, and won­dered why I would not accept of a small matter from him, when I had promised him otherwise. I answered that I was surprised why my landlady should so expose me, but I imagined it was for a small matter that I owed her, which was about eight guineas, which I had paid her, and would have done with her very soon.

Not so, madam, said he, first take this key and open that walnut-tree box, and bring me hither the drawer, which I soon did, and I believe there might be in it a­bout two hundred guineas; now said he, take out a handful for your pains, which I refusing, he held my hand and made me do it; and now, said he, go and count them in your chamber, which I did, and with what I had of my own, they made up in all fifty gui­neas.

Not long after this, he began every day to find fault with my cloth [...], laces, and head-dresses, and pressed me, to buy better, which I was willing enough to do, tho' I did not seem so to him; but he still pressing me to do it, I told him I could not afford it till I had paid him what I owed him; at which he said smilingly, he had not lent me the money, but given it me, which was the least he ought to do for my agreeable company.

In about three months the company began to go off, and he talked of going soon, and was very desirous to [Page 37] have me along with him, which I did not care to do be­cause I did not know how he might use me, but before he went, he was taken very ill of a fever for five weeks, all which time I looked after him as carefully as if I had been his wife, and after some time he grew better, when he made me a present of fifty guineas more for saving his life, as he called it, making the deepest protestations of his respect for me in the world, and that he would take another opportunity to give me an undoubted testi­mony of it.

A little after, I had occasion to go to Bristol, where he accompanied me, when it was our chance to lye in an inn, where all the lodgings were taken up, except, one room which had two beds in it, but a very great curtain drew between them, which troubled us both very much I but seeing it could not be helped, my friend bade me go to bed first, and he would come afterwards to his bed; and so he did, where we lay talking together a great while, till starting from his bed on a sudden he comes to me, and bid [...] me not be concerned, for he would ask nothing immodest, and indeed he did not, for we lay all night together as innocently as children, altho, he was a vigorous brisk man, and I cannot say for my part that I should have made much resistance had he made any at­tempt.

At our return to the Bath, he lay with me almost ev­ery night, and although we had mutual embraces every time, and always slept in one another's arms, yet he nev­er offered any thing further; this he mightily valued himself for, yet I cannot say I so much liked it, till one night as we were in bed pretty merry, having drunken a little more than usual, being clasped closely in his arms, I told him I could find in my heart to discharge him of his engagement for one night and no more.

He took me at my word, and after this we were one as willing as the other; for this reason I exchanged the name of a friend for that detestable name of a Miss. In the morning we looked strangely at one another, and both seemed to be sorry for what we had done, and in­deed it was a week before we were so free as usual with one another. I could not forbear blushing, whenever I [Page 38] was with him, and he looked as if he were frightened, till one night I asked him, what if I should be with child! he bade me not be frightened at that, for he would take care of the child and me, which hardened us both so much, that we repeated the crime every night, and in a little time it so happened that I was with child, and when I was certain of it, I proposed trusting the secret to my landlady, who said she knew it would come to that at last, and made us very merry about it that evening.

When I grew near my time, she advised him to go to London, and then acquainted the parish officers that there was a lady ready to lye in at her house, but she was a woman of fashion, and that she knew her husband very well, which satisfied them; and I lay in, in as much state as if I had really been a lady, having many of the best in the town at my labour.

My gentleman allowed me very handsomely, and I was as sparing as possible in my expences, so that I saved nearly one hundred pounds in my lying in. I had also a fine boy, which as soon as he heard, he wrote a very obliging letter to me, and advised me to come to London as soon as I was able, and he would take a lodging for me at Hammersmith, which I liked very well; and accordingly I took coach for myself, child, nurse and maidservant, he meeting us at Rend­ing, where he took me in his own chariot, and conduct­ed us all to my new lodgings at Hammersmith.

And now I wanted nothing to make me happy but to be a wife, which I knew could not be, for he had a wife already, but she was mad, I therefore laid up a­gainst a rainy day what I could, knowing very well that kept mistresses, like old cloths, are thrown away when they are done with: However, I lived six years with him, and in that time I had three fine children by him but only the first lived. At length I was surprized with a very melancholy letter from him, intimating, that he was very ill, and that he was afraid he should have another fit of sickness but that he being in the house with his wife's relations, it was not possible for me to come to him, which he desired very much.

I was very much concerned at this account, you may [Page 39] be sure, and I was every day impatient to know how he did, hearing nothing further from him for about a month, I disguised myself like a servant maid in a round cap, and went to his house, and said my master and mistress sent to know how he did; where under­standing that the doctors said they had but little hopes of him, I began to consider that it was well that I had saved something while he was alive to maintain me and my son.

This was sad news, no doubt; however, I did not cease [...] every day, till at last I understood he was abroad [...], when I hoped I should soon hear of him: but to my surprize I heard nothing of him for a quarter of a year, in which [...] I had written several letters, and d [...]e [...]ted them as usual, but received no answer, till I found means to have a letter given him at a coffee-house which he used; wherein I represented the bad condition I was in, having lodgings to pay, and neces­saries for the child were wanting, which forced an an­swer from him, and is as follows:

Madam,

I need not acquaint you with what has been my condition, and how having been at the point of death, I am, by unexpect­ed mercy, recovered from a bed of sickness; it cannot be strange to you that our unhappy conversation has been a great trouble to my conscience; I need say no more, but that those things must be repented of and reformed. I wish you would return to the Bath. I inclose you here a bill of fifty pounds to clear your lodgings and carry you down, and hope it will be no surprize to you to add, I shall see you no more; not for any offence given on your side, I assure you. I will take due care of the child; leave him, or take him with you, I wish you the like reflections, and that they may be to your advantage.

Yours, &c,

I was thunderstruck with this letter, as you may im­agine, but I never once reflected on my own conduct to­wards my husband, the linen-draper, or my brother whom I had married; but was only sorry for the loss of so fine a gentleman, who had done so many good-na­tured things for me; and being troubled about my little boy, not knowing what would become of him, I sent him [Page 42] word, that I left him to his discretion, and had obeyed him, in [...] but that of going to the [...], and with all I told [...] what condition I was in, in the most moving [...], assuring him that I repented as sin­cerely as he had done, but intreated him to put me into [...] condition to live, [...] I [...] into greater temptation; and that if he thought I should be troublesome to him any more, I defined him to lend me only 50l. more, and I would go to Virginia, which would put an end to all his fears; and that [...]f I found my mother living, and my circumstances [...], I would [...] send for my child, and take him, off his hands, which I must own I had no in­tention to do, as my former affairs may convince you, but my business was to get the last fifty pounds, know­ing I should never have any more.

I was now free from all obligations: a wife or a mistress, except to the linen draper, whom I had never heard of nor my husband, or father brother at Virgin­ia, when I received, after a long expectation, a return of some goods from my brother, but upon condition of signing a general release, which I promised to do, but having [...]he goods delivered fast, I would not do it; so that by this means I found my little stock amounted to about 5 [...]0l. with which I had the world to begin again; but what was my greatest misfortune, I was not the same woman as formerly, but now something old.

I thought upon several ways to set me off, but noth­ing would offer, till at length a new scene opened. There was in the house where I lodged a North coun­try gentlewoman, who was talking to me of the cheap­ness of her country till at length she tempted me to promise to go and live with her in the country, telling her, that altho' I had enough to live on, yet I found London was an extravagant place, and I did not much care for it.

Before I went, it came into my mind to go to the bank, where I had often been to receive the interest of some bill [...], and advise with one of the clerks, who always was very ready to serve me; but when I told him what my business was, he assured me, be could not do it with con­veniency to himself, but that he would recommend me to [Page 41] a gentleman whom he could be answerable for and was always well pleased to do such acts of charity.

I answered I would rather have depended on him, be­cause I had found him honest, but if that [...]ould not be, I would accept of his recommendation; he replied, you will be as well satisfied with my friend as with me, and that he would give his word that he should ask nothing for his pa [...]ns, but that he himself was obliged, by virtue of that place, not to meddle with any business.

I no sooner saw his friend, than I was satisfied he was a very honest man by his looks, and to whom I told my circumstances at large, how that I was a widow, newly came from America, and had a little money, and [...] little and was afraid to lose it having no friend to advise with, and that I was going to the North of England to live cheaply.

He told me, that I might lodge the money in the bank on account, which would entitle me to the money at any time, but then it would be esteemed as running cash, or that I might buy stock with it, but if I wanted to dispose of it at any time, I must come to town to transfer it or else I might enter it in some friend's name, and he might receive it for me; and then said, smiling, madam, why don't you get an honest steward that might take you and your money together! That, said I, is more difficult than the other, said he, he had a wife, or else he should have been very glad of the bar­gain; for, saith he, I have a wife and no wife, and it would be no sin to hang her, for she is a w—e.

That alters the case indeed [...] said I, but a cuckold may be an honest man, and I don't question but you will do my business honestly, and that you are very good to own such a woman for a wife. I do think, said he, to clear my hands of her; for to be plain I am no con [...]ented cuckold, though I cannot rid my hands of her as yet. I begun to wave the discourse and talk of busi­ness, but I found he could not have done with it but went on, and told me, how that his business called him out of England, and that she in the mean time had two children by an officer in the army, and that on her sub­mission [Page 42] he took her again and maintained her very well, till she ran away with a linen draper, and robbed him of what she could come at: and now madam, said he, since you come to ask advice, let me ask yours.

Alas sir, said I, 'tis a nice case that since she is run away, you are well off I think: however you may get a divorce if you think fit, and then marry another. Will you take me, madam said he. I cannot tell, said I, your case seems worse than mine, although the question pleased me better than any thing he had said before, however, I knew the way to secure him was to stand off, and that it was time enough to accept it when he was able to perform it; upon which he broke off, and he made me promise to come the next day, which I did; and brought my maid with me, to let him see that I kept a maid, whom he desired me, to send home, and he would wait on me in a coach by myself—which I did not much care for, for fear he should enquire into my character.

He provided a handsome supper for me, and then began to talk of love and pressed me to drink a glass or two of wine, and desired me to give him leave to make a proposal; which I said I was willing to hear, provid­ed it were honorable. Why said he, it is to marry me, and to convince me that he meant honorably he would not live with me, or go to bed to me, till the divorce was obtained.

I declared the motion unfair, with some warmth, and told him there could be nothing in it, but to entangle us both in greater difficulties; but that if he did get a divorce, I did not know what I might say, or he could not expect that I should say yes, at first asking, besides I never did imagine that he had any such design.

He pressed me to give him a promise, which I would not before I had seen the issue of my journey in the North, wherein my friend had promised me great mat­ter, but I told him, as a pledge of my sincerity, I had entrusted him with almost my all, and as soon as he had sued out the divorce, if he would send me an account of it, I would come up to London, and—then we would talk more of the matter.

[Page 43] It was a base design in me, I confess, and it proved ac­cordingly. I went with my friend (as I called her) in­to Lancashire, who all the way down treated me with a great deal of good manners, and her brother in a gen­tleman's coach met us at Warrington, and from thence carried us to Liverpool, where we were entertained at a merchant's house three or four days, and then her un­cle, as she called him, sent a coach and four; which car­ried us to a gentleman's seat forty miles further, where I was nobly entertained; but I discovered they were all Roman Catholics, which did not in the least alter their behaviour to me, altho the ladies soon found I was not of their religion.

I stayed here about six weeks and then we returned to a village near Liverpool, where her brother, as she called him, met us in his own chariot with two footman, and carried us to his own house, where I had not been long before he began to make love to me, his pretended sister telling him I was a great fortune, and he passed for a gentleman of a thousand pounds a year in Ireland. I cannot say but to outward appearance he was a fine gentleman, and talked as naturally of [...] park, stables, horses, game-keepers and tenants, as if he really had them all.

I own, [...] never asked me about my fortune, for his sister had already told him I had at least ten thousand pounds; but he often talked of settling a jointure on me of six hundred pounds a year, and that he would enter into covenants for performance: [...] words sounded so pleasantly in my ears, that I soon consented to be married, never so much as [...] this while of my faithful citizen, with whom I had entrusted my money.

After we had been married about a month, he began to talk of going to West-Chester, to embark for Ireland, where, when we came he asked me if I had no [...] to settle at London before we went off; I suppose, and he, the greatest part of your estate, which my [...] tells me is in money, might want to be transferred, and therefore it will not be amiss to go up to London before we go to Ireland.

[Page 44] I told him I did not understand him. I had no effects in the bank, neither did I ever tell him I had. No, [...] he, my dear, then I am undone; this woman told me so, and I was to give her five hundred pounds to bring you down. I asked her then what reason she had for [...] saying, and she answered, the people in the house where I lodged told her so. I can't help that said I. Nor have I any estate, my dear, said he, for what little I had, this devil has made me run it out in putting me into this equipage. At this I was confounded as much as he and thought I had the worst of it by far, telling him, if I had a fortune I found I had been cheated, and [...] would have been a double bite. My dear, said he, I cannot say but you would have been cheated, but you would not have been undone for ten thousand pounds would have maintained us both very [...] in Ireland, and I would not have wronged you of a [...], and the re [...] I would have made up to you in love.

I told him it was very unhappy, that so much love and so much good nature as I discovered in him, should be thus precipitated into misery, and that what little I had, was not [...] to relieve us a week; and with that I pulled out a bankbill of twenty pounds, which with elev­en guineas I had in my pocket, I thought would have maintained me two or three years, which if it were ta­ken from me, I told him I was left destitute; however, there it was at his service.

He told me, that he scorned to make me miserable, and that he had fifty pounds left, and throwing it down on the table bade me take it, tho he should starve. I returned him thanks, and told him I was willing to starve with him. He begged of me not to express so much kindness, for that would make him distracted; but said he, my dear, tell me if you have any money at all, I told him I had the bank-bill and eleven guineas, thinking it proper to conceal the rest, for I would have been rid of him at any rate.

He shook his head, and remained silent some time, and after a pause he said, my dear, tho the case is bad, it is to no purpose to be dejected, I will endeavor to find out same way or other to live, and then thinking [Page 45] to me, vowed all his concern was for me.—To give him his due, he was really a very tender husband, and of [...] a generous spirit; and 'tis satisfaction if one must be ruin­ed, that it be by a man of honor, rather than a scoun­drel. We had a great deal of talk that night, and he proposed many ways, but came to no resolution, till at last he took a husband's leave of me, and then fell a­sleep.

He rose betime in the morning, and left me asleep, taking with him his servants, horses, and baggage, and upon the table I found the following letter, which when I had read, I thought I should have fallen down dead.

My Dear,

Necessity has put me upon doing those things I never did approve of; I [...] for doing it to so good a woman as you are. Forgive my dear, I beg of you forgive me. I cannot bear to see you ruined, and I not able to help you; I shall never be able to see you again; therefore if you can marry to your advantage, do not decline it on my account, for on the word of a man of honor, I will never do you any injury, if it were in my power; but if you should not marry if good fortune should ever befriend me, it shall be all yours.

I have left you part of the money I had, with which take places in the Stage-Coach for yourself and maid, and make the best of your way for London, which I hope is sufficient to bear your charges. I am constrained to leave the only person I ever loved in the world, I ask your pardon for what is past, and shall ever remain,

My dear,
Yours most affectionately, J. M.

Nothing ever made so great an impression upon me as this letter, and more when I found in my pocket ten guineas, a gold watch, a diamond ring, and a plain one, upon which I could not forbear looking above two hours, till my maid came and told me dinner was ready, but I could not eat any thing you may be sure: After it was over, I fell a crying. O Jemmy, come back, I'll beg, I'll starve with you, when to my surprize, he comes [Page 46] back in the evening, but without any servant, and I not knowing what could be the occasion of it, asked him how he could be so unkind to leave me, and whether he did not hear me call him to come back again, which he said he did about ten miles off, upon Delamare forest, and that was the reason of his coming back, believing it would be very melancholy for me to travel to London alone, and that he might as well go that way as any other, saying he had dismissed his servants, and that they were in a happier case than himself, for they could get places when he might be in a goal.

Two days after this we quitted Chester, I in a stage­coach, and he on horseback, leaving my maid behind me, and he came with me as far as Dunstable, within thirty miles of London, and there he told me he must leave me, for he durst go no further; I told him if it were so, I desired he would stay a week or two in that town, which, he readily agreed to; then calling the landlady, he told her his wife was taken ill, and en­quired whether she could not get us a lodging in the town for two or three nights, till I had recovered my­self; which she willingly agreed to and indeed I liked the room very well, and the people of the inn as well, so we paid the coach and took out our baggage, and then told him I would live with him there till I had spent our money, which with a great deal of difficulty at length I brought him to agree to, and we stayed here about a month, in which time he let me into part of his own life which was very surprizing, and full of variety, and of which I shall give a full account hereafter.

We parted at lad, with great reluctance on both sides, for I found by what he said, that he durst not come to London, and the next day I came to St. Jones's in Cler­kon well, a private place where no body knew me; but being a stranger, I did not know where to lye in, for I grew big, and people in the house taking notice of it, intimated that I must think of removing, which troub­led me so much that I grew ill, and my melancholy in­creased my distemper, so that the mistress of the house proposed to send for a midwife, which she did, who, told her, she believed that my condition was pretty much in [Page 47] her way; but I did not understand at first, what she meant: but the midwife soon informed me, and said she believed I was under some circumstances that rendered my lying in difficult, and that if I pleased to communi­cate it to her, she would soon make all easy, which put new life into me, and I found my blood began to cir­culate immediately.

I was too sensible of the want I had of such a friend, not to return her thanks for her kind offers, but I assur­ed her I had a husband, tho he could not appear pub­licly thro misfortunes; at which she presently took me up, and said that was none of her business to enquire into, saying, all the ladies that came under her care were married women to her; if you dare trust yourself in my hands, said she, I live in such a place, and I have already given security to the parish, to secure them from any charge that shall happen under my roof; and I have only one question further to ask,—which is, wheth­er you have money? I answered, I thanked God I did not want for that, tho I did not much abound in it. Why then, said she, you are happy, for without that nothing can be done: and to satisfy you I will not im­pose on you, you shall know the whole charges before­hand. I told her that was very fair, but that as I had not over much money, I begged she'd be as reasonable as possible, which she said she would, and for that rea­son would give me an account of the expences in two or three shapes which were as follows:

The first bill.
  l.s.d.
1.For three months lodging and diet, at 10s. per week060000
2.For a nurse for the month, and use of child bed linen,011000
3.For a minister to christen the child, and to the god­fathers and clerk,011000
4.For a supper at the christen­ing if five were at it,010000
5.For her fees as midwife, and taking the trouble off the parish,030300
 To her maid servant, attending001000
  In all 131300

The second bill.
  l.s.d,
1.For three months lodging diet, at 20s. per week,120000
2.For a nurse for the month, and use of child-bed linen,020000
3.For a minister to christen the child, &c. as above,020000
4.For a supper and sweet meats,030300
5.For her fees, &c.050500
 To her servant maid,010000
  In all 251800

The third bill she said was to persons of quality,
1.For three months lodging and diet, having two rooms, and a garret for a servant,300000
2.For a nurse for the month, and the finest suit of child­bed linen,040400
3.For a minister to christen the child, &c.021000
4.For a supper, the gentleman to send in the wine,060000
5.For my fees, &c.101000
 To the maid,011000
  In all 541400

I looked upon the bills, and telling her I could not say but the bills were very reasonable: but that I was sorry to tell her, I feared I must be her lowest custom­er. With all my heart, said she, I have ten to one as many of them as the other; and then, said she, if the child be dead born, or should not live, you save the [Page 49] ministers article, and if you have no friend at the christ­ening, you save the expences of the supper, so that then your lying-in will not stand you in above 5l., 3s. more than your ordinary charge of living.

I told her I would be her customer, but as I had two months to go, I might perhaps stay with her longer than three months, and desired to know if she would not be obliged to remove me before it was proper, which she said she never did upon any account whatever; and then looking about, she began to find fault with my a­partment, and said I might remove as soon as I pleased.

I quitted my lodgings at St. Jones's, and went to my new governess's where I was well looked after, and I understood that she had about twelve ladies of pleasure under her care at that time, and about thirty abroad. But before I was delivered, I received a letter from my trustee at the bank, full of obliging things, and pressing me to come to London, which was sent from Liverpool, as I had ordered; to which I returned an answer, and dated it at Liverpool, but sent it by a messenger, as if it came by a friend to town, wherein I gave him to un­derstand how glad I was, that he had obtained a divorce, but I questioned the lawfulness of his marrying again, notwithstanding, I would be in London in three months at fartherest.

I was brought to bed a little after receiving this letter, and then I received another from him, wherein he assur­ed me, that his wife having a remorse of conscience af­ter the divorce was obtained, had destroyed herself; and altho' he was concerned at her disaster, yet he had no [...]and in it; for what he did was to do justice, which ex­ [...]eedingly surprized me; and I began now to reflect on [...] misfortunes of having a child, and seeming more melancholy than ordinary, my governess daily pressed me [...] know the reason of it, which I did not know how to [...] her, because I had formerly told her I had a hus­band; but she, daily importuning me, at last I related the [...]ole story of my Lancashire marriage, and then I shew­ [...] her my friend's letter, wherein she saw how affection­ately he wrote to me, which as soon as she had read, she [...] a laughing, saying, the other was no marriage, but [Page 50] a cheat on both sides, till at length she reasoned me out of my reason, not that I can say it was much against my inclination.

But then there was this difficulty, which was the part­ing with thy child, which grieved me very much, but this was soon removed, for it died within the month. Now I began to write to my friend in a more kind man­ner, and sent him word, that I designed to be in town in a month, which he desired to be informed, because he would come two days journey to meet me, which puz­zled me more than the other; till at last it came into my mind to go into the country, which would not only blind my old governess, but cover all my other affairs, for she did not know, whether my lover lived in London or Lan­cashire; and so taking a place in the stage-coach to West Chester, where I had no manner of business but only to conceal my having been in London, I went down, and next week I took a place in another stage-coach for Lon­don and sent him word I should be up such a night, up­on the receipt of which, he met me according to prom­ise at Brickhill.

He came in a very handsome coach with four horses and a servant to attend him, in which he took me, and ordering the coachman to drive into an inn, he bespoke a dinner, and afterwards we walked to see the town and church, and our landlord accompanied us when I [...] my gentleman enquired pretty much after the parson [...] my landlord, who told him he had a friend a little way off, who would serve him and be as private as he pleas­ed; he answered it was very well, and said he believe [...] he should.

I had no sooner come back to the inn, than he [...] upon me with irres [...]ble words, that since every thing [...] concurred to made him happy, it would be [...] for [...] to say, nay: and then pulling a bundle of papers out [...] his pocket, he shews me the deed of divorce, and [...] said he, my dear, is the licence for us to be married, [...] there's a diamond ring for you, and there's a better [...] for you presently; and then taking me in his arms, [...] b [...]gged me as if he would not let me go till I promise [...] him: Well, said I, since [...] won't be [...], you [...] [Page 51] and so giving him a [...]light kiss, I promised to comply with his request.

He was [...] transported with my consent, that I believ­ed once, he would not stay for the ceremony, for he threw me upon the bed, and then snatching me u [...] gave me two or three kisses, and fell a crying for joy, and in­deed I could not forbear crying, reflecting how abomin­able a creature I had been, and how this innocent gentle­man wa [...] deceived in me.

My landlord sent away for the clergyman, and got him ready in the house, and without any more words brought him up, who being asked if he were willing to marry a couple of strangers replied with all his heart, but that he hoped it was not a clandestine marriage, for he saw madam was not a girl; but to put him out of all doubt, my gentleman gives him a licence, with which he was more satisfied; but so an [...] not I, said I, 'tis time enough in the morning; beside said I, what do you mean sir, to marry me in an inn?

Madam, said the minister, it is all one, I assure you, your marriage is as good [...] as in a church; yet I was a great while before I could be persuaded, but at length married we were, and my landlady and her daughter were called up to be at the wedding. Afterwards we were all very merry the whole evening, and yet not a servant knew any thing of it in the house, for the land­lord was afraid the minister of the parish should hear of it: but in the morning it was known, and the landlord blazened it out, and said we were married before [...]; there, and being formerly his guests came to his house to have the wedding-supper.

The next day an odd accident happened, which inter­rupted all my mirth, for as I was looking out of the window, I saw three gentlemen ride by and go into an inn almost against us, one of which [...] be my I­rish husband, which frightened me to death; I never was in such a consternation in my life, and remained in that condition two hours, but at last, to my great satisfaction, I saw them all three ride away Westward, and a little af­ter, we were alarmed with a great uproar in the [...], with a hue and cry after three highwaymen that had [Page 52] robbed [...] coaches near Dunstable of about five hun­dred pounds and the house they had been in was im­mediately beset and searched; [...] by good [...]uck they were gone three hours before I told my landlord that I saw them go in, and know [...] them to be a very honest gentleman, and to have a very good estate in [...] from whence I had just come; which being [...] the constable, he came over to me, and believing what I said to be true, left off pursuing them, [...] the [...] they were not the men.

This is a [...] another day, which was agreeable enough to me I fearing my [...] acquaintance should [...] be upon the [...] chance to [...]; but the next day we [...] away, and my landlord with three country fel­lows with fire arms, attended us to Dunstable, from whence we proceeded to London, and I lived in the ut­most tranquility five years with him, for he was an hon­est, virtuous, [...] an, and diligent in his business.

But a sudden blew blasted all my happiness, and turn­ed [...] out into the world in a wor [...] condition than I ever had been in before; for my husband having trusted one of his fellow clerks with a sum of money, two much for our fortunes to b [...]ar the loss of, the clerk failed, and it fell very heavily on my husband; yet it was not so great but that if he has courage he might have recovered it, but he grew melancholy and disconsolate upon it, and died soon after.

I had two children by him, and was left in a deplora­ble condition, for I was now forty eight years old, and the time was over with me ever to be courted for a [...], and I was become the most dejected disconsolate creature in the world beside I was friendless and help­less and what was [...]. I was left in so mean a condi­tion, that I foresaw, what was left would not support me and my children long.

In this distress I lived two years, and had no friend to comfort or advise me, till at length I put off my house and took lodgings, and sold most of my goods, which put a little money in my pocket, upon which I lived nearly a year, when one day dressing myself, but I knew not for what reason, the devil directed me to be sure to [Page 53] an apothecary's shop in L [...]denhall-street, where I saw a little bundle on a stool, and the boy looking another way, I took it away and went off with it, no-body seeing me, which when I came to open, I found there was a suit of child-bed linen in it, a silver porringer, and a small silver mug, and six spoons, and a good shift and three silk handkerchiefs, and in them sixteen shillings and six pence in money; but all the while I was opening them, I was under such dreadful impressions of mind that I cannot express the manner of it; but my own distresses soon si­lenced all reflections; and I went out the next day, not knowing where to steer my course; till my old friend the devil, threw a snare in my way again; for meeting with a pretty little child in Aldergate-street, who had been at a dancing-school, and was going home, I took it by the hand, and led it into an alley near Bartholemew-close, and robbed it of a gold necklace, and so went off with it leaving the poor child to shift for herself.

I cannot say but this execrable deed did sometimes trouble me, but I grew harden'd and past any remorse of conscience.

The next thing of moment, was an attempt I made upon a gentle [...]oman's gold-watch, as she was coming out of a meeting-house, when giving it a pull, and find­ing it would not come I let it go, and crying out as if I had been kill'd, and said there were pick pockets, for some body had given a pull at my watch; which I had no sooner done, than the gentlewoman cry'd pick-pock­et too, for some body had tried to pull her watch away, and at that instant they discovered a pick-pocket whom they took in the act, and committed him to the mob, which is a cruelty I deed not describe, but what they had much rather undergo than be sent to Newgate, all which happened very luckily for me, for thereby I went away undiscovered.

The Barthelomew following I went to the cloisters, and fell into one of the raffling-shops, where I met with a gentleman well drest and very rich, who singled me out, and told he would put in for me to raffle, and I getting a muff, he presented it to me, and continued [Page 54] talking to me very respectfully, till at length drew me out to walk in the cloister, with him, where he told me he was charmed with my company, and asked me if I durst trust myself in a [...] with him, which after some importunity I yielded to. He carried me to spring-gar­den at Knightforidge, where we drank very freely, and by that time we got to London it was nearly ten o'clock at night, when we stopt at a house wherein he was acquainted, and they made to scruple to shew us up stairs into a room with a bed in it. Here he began to be a little free with me, and I by little and little yielded to every thing, till he did what he pleased with me, and about one o'clock, he drinking freely all the while we went into the coach again, where he was for doing what he had done before; but I finding him in drink, thought my game secure, and bade him sit still a little, which he did, and in a minute fell asleep, which I no sooner per­ceived than I took his gold watch, a silk purse of gold, and a snuff-box, and gently opening the door, got away and came home to my governess; with whom I then lodged, telling her what I had done, which pleased her wonderfully, saying child, this usage may, for ought I know, reform this gentleman more than all the sermons he ever heard in his life.

Another time I placed myself at a ware house by the water side, where comes a young fellow with a letter, and wanted a box and a hamper that came from New-castle upon Ty [...]e; but the warehouse-man not being in the way, I read the letter, and observed what was in it, bidding him come in the morning, and then he would be sure to meet with him. Away I went and wrote down every particular, and when the warehouse-man came about an hour after, I had the goods delivered without any scruple, which in all was worth about seventy pounds.

After this I had many adventures, and some of them proved very fortunate; but at length as when doth the pitcher come safely home that goes so often to the well, I met with an unlucky accident which did me no good, altho I knew nothing of the matter. As I was going thro Kingstreet, in Covent-Garden where I heard a [Page 55] cry of stop Thief, and they seeing me, one of them swore I was the widow that was among them, and carried me back to the shop, but the master said I was not the person, and would have let me go; but another said, pray stay, madam, till the journey man comes back for he know [...] whether you be the person or not. In which time the servants used me very fancily tho the constable was by, whom I desired to let me send for my friends, which he would not agree to, till I came before a justice: With that I spoke aloud to the master of the shop, and said, Sir, you know in your own conscience that I am not the person, and why do you detain me then? which he said he should do as yet: I then said to the constable and porter, he pleased to remember this; which hard-usage to moved the constable, that he per­suaded him to let me go, but he would not, although the constable told him, he was afraid he should bring himself into trouble by it. At which the apprentice said, [...] her, I will swear she is the same widow that was in the shop, when at the same time, the journeyman brought back with them the true widow that was in the shop, dragging her along with a mob after them.

I began now to take better heart, and turning to the constable, said, Let me alone master, let them go on; then the mercer came and begged my pardon, and charged the constable with the right thief; which I told him, he should find would not do, for if he had discharg­ed me at first, when he himself owned I was not the person, I would have put it by; but the treatment of him and especially of his servants had been such, that I was resolved to have reparation: Which he said he would give me; But I told him, I was not my own judge, and the law should determine it; for I insisted to be carried before a magistrate: And he bidding the constable to let me go, he told him it was not in his power; for since he had already charged me, I must be discharged before a magistrate; which being done. I charged him and his man now, inste [...] of his charging me, in which confusion, the real thief got away in the crowd, and we went with a mob at our heels, before [...] justice in Bloomsb [...]ry, the people asking all the way, [Page 56] what was the matter and others replying a mercer has stopt a gentlewoman instead of a thief, and has since taken the thief, and now the gentlewoman has taken the mercer, and is carrying him before a justice when pleas­ed the people I found very much.

When we came before the justice, he asked me my name, which I told him was Polly Flanders, and that my husband being a sea captain died in his voyage to Virginia, and that I lodged at present in town, with such a person, but that I was preparing to go to Vir­ginia, where my husband's effects lay; and then I told him how they used me, although the master owned I was not the person that robbed him: all which the con­stable confirmed.

Then the justice heard the mercer, who made a long [...], of the great [...] they daily receive by shop­lifters, and that it was easy for him to mistake; which being over, the justice told me I was discharged, and that he was very sorry for what had happened and said, if I would not forgive them, he must bind them over.

I coming home, and telling my governess the story, she fell a laughing saying, this job will be the best bar­gain you ever made in your life if you manage it well you shall make five hundred pounds of it. And she found me out a very c [...]dible attorney, wh [...] I met, and gave him all the particulars at large; who said, he did not question but the jury would gave me considera­ble damages. And he [...] the mercer, who gave ba [...]l, but a few days after [...] to my attorney, to let him know that he desired [...] accommodate the matter; who managed the matter so well on my side, that he got my 150l. in money with law-charges, and a piece of black silk to make me a gown and petticoat.

I was now in good circumstances indeed if I could have known when to leave off; for I had now seven hundred pounds by [...] in money, besides cloaths, rings, some plate, and two gold watches; but I could not for­bear going abroad again, any more than I could when my extremity really drove me out for bread.

The next day I dressed myself up in quite different cloaths, and went to St. James's Park where I saw abun­dance [Page 57] of fine ladies walking in the Mall, and among them a little miss, twelve or thirteen years old, with a sister about nine, who I observed had a gold watch on, and a necklace of pearl; and observing the footman to stop at going into the Mall, I stept up to him, and made myself acquainted with the whole family; and then put myself in rank with the young ladies, whom I sa­luted by name, and asked her when she heard from her father, and when her mother wou'd be in town, and how they did; and a thousand such impertinent questions, when on a sudden the guards came, and a crowd ran to [...] the king go to the parliament-house: and among them lady Betty and her sister; and lifting the little one up in my arms, that she might be high enough to see, I conveyed the watch so clean from her that she never missed it, till she got into the middle of the Mall, and was carried away in the crowd, while I got into St. James's, where I took coach and made off.

I am now drawing towards a new variety of life: in three days after, I ventured into a factor's house, where I saw the doors open and all things safe seeing no body in it, where I took up two pieces of flowered silk, very rich; but as quickly as I was going out I was attacked by two wenches, who came to me open mouthed and shutting the door called the master and mistress, to whom I gave very good words, and told them it was my first act and being poor, it was a temptation to me to find the door open, which moved the mistress to compassion; but the master grew outrageous, and sent for a consta­ble, the sight of which struck me with horror, so that I thought I should s [...]nk into the ground.

I offered to pay for the pieces, whatever the value was, but all wou'd not do. I was carried before a mag­istrate, and committed [...] Newgate; where being left, it was impossible to express the horror of my mind, when I was [...] and when I saw the horror of that place, [...] and that I had nothing to think of but death, and that in the most in­famous way. The hellish noise, the roaring, swearing and clamor, the [...] and [...], and all the dread­ful [Page 58] crowd of afflictions that I saw there, joined together to make the place seem an emblem of hell itself, or a kind of entrance into it.

Then I repented of all my life past, but it yielded me no satisfaction, no peace, because it was repenting after the power of sinning was taken away; and was peniten­tial, not that I had sinned, but that I was to suffer.

And what added to my afflictions, were the revilings of those hardened wretches that were there before me; scoffing, what Mrs. Flanders catched in the trap at last, surely the devil had helped me, or I had been in New­gate long before. Then they welcomed me to the place, and then called for brandy, and drank to me, say­ing surely I had money, tho they had none.

But nothing could express the amazement and sur­prize I was in. when the first man that came out I knew to be my Lancashire husband, the very same with whom I lived so well at Dunstable and the same whom I af­terwards saw at Brickhill, when I was married to my last husband.

I was s [...]auck dumb at the sight of him, and knew nei­ther what to say, nor what to do; but returning, I cri­ed vehemently for a great while; my own case gave me no disturbance, in comparison with his: Oh! said I, how many poor people have I made miserable? How many wretches have I sent to the devil? And this misfortune I placed all to my account, reproaching myself for it.

While I was under these influences of sorrow for him, came notice to me, that the next sessions I should cer­tainly be tried for my life at the Old-Baily, which soon abated the hardened spirit I had acquired by long con­tinuance in Newgate: and I became dejected to the last degree, sending for my old governess who, to give her her due, left no stone unturned to prevent the grand­jury's finding the bill, but it would not prevail. I could hear nothing about the prison, but every one pitying me, and saying, Mrs. Flanders will be hanged; and at last one of the keepers came to me, and said, Mrs. Flanders! What do you intend to do? you will be tried on Fri­day: I wont flatter you, I would have you prepare for death; for as you are an old offender, I doubt you will [Page 59] find but little mercy. Which was such a stab to me, that I could not speak a word; and he left me in the greatest confusion imaginable.

Well! there was no remedy. On Thursday I was carried down to the session to be arraigned for stealing two pieces of silk, value forty pounds, where I pleaded not guilty, the next day I was appointed to be tried, which, when it came on, I would have spoken, but they told me the witnesses must be heard first, and then I should have time to be heard. The witnesses were a couple of hard-mouthed jades, for they aggravated eve­ry thing to the utmost; and although what they said was true in fact, yet I insisted that they stopped me, be­fore I was out of the house, and that I went in with a design to buy, but seeing no body in the house, I took them, and was going to the door to look at them.

In short I was found guilty of the felony, but acquit­ted of the burglary, and the next day was carried down to receive the dreadful sentence; when being asked what I had to say, I told them, I had nothing to say but to bespeak the mercy of the court, that I had broken no doors, had carried nothing off, and that the prosecutor having lost nothing, had desired mercy might be shewn me, and added also, that it was my first offence; all which I spoke in such a pitiful tone, that it moved many in the court to pity.

The judges were grave and mute, and gave me leave to say what I could, but at length one of them pro­nounced sentence of death upon me, which was almost as bad as death itself.

It is more easily to be imagined than expressed, what trouble I was in; I had nothing before me but death, and expected my name in the dead-warrant every day.

In the mean time my governess sent me minister who was a very good man indeed, and he exhorted me seriously to repent, and not dally any longer with my soul; which was the first time I felt any real signs of repentance, beginning to look back upon my past life which abhorrence, and have a view to eternity. He told me he did not come to extort confession from me, but [...] [Page 60] put me in mind off [...]urity [...], and prepare me, if possible, for heaven, which m [...]d way of treating me, unlocked all the [...] of my [...], and I unravelled all the wick­edness of my life to him and he exhorted me to a sincere repentance, and if I did sincerely repent I had no reason to despair of eternal happiness. He visited me again the next morning, and explained to me the [...]rms of divine mercy, which made [...] impression upon me, that I thought I could have freely gone that minute to execu­tion; which so moved this good gentlem [...]n, that he praised GOD for his being the instrument of reclaiming a great sinner.

Twelve days after sentence, we were ordered for exe­cution, and my name was in the dead warrant, [...] sorely afflicted the minister and I wondered much that I did not see him all the day before execution [...] when I heard his voice at the door, my heart leapt within me for joy, and reason enough I had for it, when he told me he had brought me a reprieve, praying that my repent­ance might be sincere and that I might never return to my wicked [...] of life, in which I joined with him he [...]tily. The first thing that I heard next morning, was the telling of the great bell at St. [...], and as soon as it began, a dismal cry was heard from the condemned [...], where there lay six poor souls to be executed that day, which was followed by a confused clamor in the house, some [...] those that had brought them to it, and others pitying them: and some few, but very few out of so great a number, praying for them.

About a month afterwards, there was a rumour that I should be included in the dead warrant next sessions; but through the industry and application of the good minister, it was changed to transportation, which was bad enough, but something better than death and that day five weeks I went [...] board a ship with a gang of fifteen as hardened villains as ever Newgate produced.

When we came on board, we were all clapt under the hatches the first [...]ight, which I thought would have suffocated me; and the next morning [...] [...]hip fell down the river to Bugby's-hole, where we were by turns per­mitted to come upon deck.

[Page 61] All that night I lay upon the hard deck, but had af­terwards a cabin allowed me to put my bed in [...]. When it was my turn to come up, I asked one of the officers, if I might not be allowed to send a letter, to let my friends know where we lay, which the boatswain told me very civily I might; and when the boat went off, he told me if I would give him the letter he would take care of it. I gave him the letter, and a shilling, which I took out of a purse, in which I had a pretty deal of money, taking care to let him see it, which I found af­terwards, was no disadvantage [...] me.

He delivered my letter to my governess, and brought me back an answer, giving me the shilling again, and asked me whether that gentlewoman were my sister? I told him, no, but one of my best friends, and would give an hundred pounds to deliver me from this condition. Will she [...] said he, for half the money I can put you in a way how to deliver yourself; but alas I said I, the [...] I should be taken again, and that would cast me my life. In the mean time, my governess went to my hus­band, and soon came to me, and brought me a sea-bed and all its furniture, a sea-chest, and what money I designed to take with me, to redeem me when I came on sa [...]re as also a letter from my husband, who told me he had also received a sentence of transportation, but he questioned whether they would give him leave to go in what ship he pleased, and that if they did, he feared it could not be obtained time enough to go with me; which troubled me very much, and I was forced to let my governess into the whole affair, except that of his being my husband. I told her, I had made an agreement to go with him, if possible, and that when we came there, how we designed to plant, settle, and grow rich, without any more adventures; which pleased my governess very much, so that she made it her business to get him deliv­ered in time.

When my husband came on board, he looked with a dejected countenance, but afterwards he began to be cheerful; and told me what money he had when he came to the prison, but said, the making of friends, and soliciting his case, had been expensive; and that he had [Page 62] but an hundred and eight pounds left which was in gold.

I gave him an account of my stock then as faithfully, that is, what I had taken with me, which was 246l, so that we had 354l, between us; but a worse gotten estate was never put together to begin the world with, it being all in money, an unprofitable cargo to be carried to the plantations.

In this condition we set sail from Bugby's hole [...] Gravesend, where we lay about ten days, and then set sail for the Downs; and from thence we got safely on the coast of Virginia in two and forty days. We [...] up the great river Potomack where we got our goods on shore, and lodged them in a store-house, and then after settling with the captain, I began to enquire after my mother and brother, when I heard she was dead, but he was alive, and lived in a plantation just by the place where we landed.

I went with a woman who was my guide, to enquire after him, as if I had only a desire to see the country, and coming near the house, I asked the woman, Whose plan­tetion that was? who answered, there's the gentleman who owns it, and his father with him.

You may guess what a confusion I was in, betwixt joy and grief, however, I [...] my h [...]d about my face, and ventured to go nearer to him; but I need not have taken all that caution, for he was grown dim-sighted; yet fearing to discover myself, I fell down on the [...] and wept; the woman perceiving this thought I was not well, and begged of me, to [...]e from the ground; and to divert me, she began to tell the story. How that old gentleman going to England, fell in love with a young lady and married her, and brought her over to his mother, with whom she lived several years, and had that young gentleman by her? but after some time, the daughter-in-law being very much surprised at something the mother had told her and upon inquiry, finding she was her daughter, would not live with him, but went away for England and had not since been heard of. This relation troubled me so much, that I could scarcely bear the hearing of it; but cheering up a little, asked in what [Page 63] circumstances the old woman died, and to whom she had left what she had, who answered, that she had left that plantation to her daughter, if ever she could be heard of; which was good news enough for me, and I was satisfied with this account But it was some time before I could resolve on making myself known; but knowing that there was no other way of recovering the plan­tation, I at length sent a message with a letter to my brother, discovering who I was, and desiring to see my son; but my brother not being at home, his son opened and read it; and taking a horse and servant, came with a messenger to the place where I was, which was about seven miles off.

I cannot express the joy of my soul, when I [...]ound that he came not as a stranger, but a son, and a son who had never before known what a mother of his own was. After our mutual embraces, he told me that what his grand-mother had left me was in his hands, and that he would do me justice to my full satisfaction; that his fa­ther had become very infirm, and that he would leave to me either to discover myself to him or let it be still a se­cret.

We then settled on a plantation near his own, where he provided for me with great care, calling me his aunt; and here I lived so happily, that I began to wish I had not brought my Lancashire husband with me from Eng­land. But we went on prosperously for a long time, and managed our plantation very well, until my husband di­ed; and my brother dying the same year, I went to live with my son, willing to him the plantation, which his grand-mother willed to me.

And now being on the last stage of my life, I began seriously to reflect on the past follies and wi [...]edness thereof, truly repenting of all my former sins and trans­gressions, and to shew an utter abhorance of those vices of which I had been too frequently guilty. And although I often felt the stings of conscience, and the keenest re­morse, for many years, yet by a sincere repentance I ob­tained the forgiveness of God, and close my life entirely resigned to his holy will.

THE END.

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