Chapter XVI.
The Imprudence of Prudence.
"I never heard tell of such a Thing in my Life!" cried I, breathlessly.
"Ah, I knew you'd say so," said Prudence, lapsing into Tears. "It was so very silly."
"Silly? Wicked! Such a Mockery! You don't call it a real Marriage, I hope!"
"Oh dear, no. But if you were in my Place, you wouldn't consider yourself at Liberty to marry another?"
"I can't fancy myself in your Place, Prudence! I would not have done such a Thing for the World! Certainly, I could not consider myself free! Nor him secure! Fleet Marriages, I know, are binding in Law; but there's no Religion in them. Have you got a Certificate?"
"Oh yes, a License, and a Certificate, and a Crown Stamp that cost a Guinea; and a Ring—"
"That cost Two-pence! All of a Piece with the Rest. I never knew such a Jumble in all my Life! Never!"
"It was great Folly—"
"You know, Prue, what Mr. Fenwick told us Folly is synonymous with in Scripture—Sin. 'The Foolishness of Fools is Folly'—He told us that was the same as 'the Foolishness of Fools is Sin.'"
"Oh, Patty, don't trample upon me, now I'm down. I've vexed enough about it, already. That is, I've vexed about what you, and Mother, and Father, would think of it; for I must say, I'm glad to be secure of Tom against he next comes Home—"
"You might have been secure of him already; if his Love was worth Anything, which I can readily believe it to be. You might have trusted him."
"I might; and he me. It was only the Folly of a Moment."
"Ah, Prue, how often has the Folly of a Moment been the Ruin of a Life! This Man was a Clergyman, I suppose?"
"Oh yes, no doubt of that. He was a Reverend Mr. Sympson, of some College, Cambridge, and late Chaplain of the Earl of Rothes. So he said."
"That's well put in."
"Well, he looked quite respectable, and you know there are many Clergy within the Rules. Don't be too suspicious, Patty."
"Why, haven't I good Reason to be, Prue? Only it's all too late, now—Oh dear me!" And I groaned heavily.
"Yes, it's all too late now," said Prue rapidly, "and I meant no Harm, and we must make the best of it, and I feel a great Load off my Mind, now I've told you—"
"Why, you've only shifted it from your own Mind to mine! I don't feel at all obliged to you!"
"Well, perhaps poor Mother might say the same; so we had better not tell her."
"Oh, Prue, Prue! how one Sin leads to another! The Case is quite different. She has a right to her Child's Confidence."
"Why, you don't tell her Everything, do you?"
"What have I ever concealed?"
"That you care about Mr. Fenwick."
The Blood rushed to my Face, though we were in the Dark. "That's quite another Matter," said I. "You don't know that I care for him."
"Oh Patty! how can you say so?"
"At all Events, he has never shown me any decided Preference that would justify me, as a modest young Woman, in letting his Name escape my Lips. You know, Prudence, how different the Cases are. Certainly, if my dear Mother, who is all Kindness and Truth, were to think fit to speak to me on that or any similar Subject, I might blush, I might shed a Tear, I might feel very uncomfortable, but I should answer her with perfect Sincerity."
"Ah Patty! you are very good—And I am very bad—"
"Nay, I won't hear you say that of yourself. You have certainly been very, very foolish."
"And 'the Foolishness of Fools is Sin.'" Here she again wept.
"Well, Prue, if it be so, still we know what is to be done."
"What? Oh, tell me!"
"'I will arise, and go unto my Father, and will say unto him—'"
"Oh, not to my Father!"
"'To my Mother, and will say unto her, Mother, I have....'"
My own Tears here burst forth. I believe they, and the few Words of the Text I had cited proved the best Eloquence; for in an Instant Prue was clinging to me, choking in Tears, and saying, "I will! I will!"
Overcome by our Emotions, we said no more till we slept, I holding her to my Heart, full of Love and Pity, though perturbed beyond Expression at her Conduct.
My Father requiring so much of our Care, it was seldom that we were all three together; however, the next Day, after he had dined with more Comfort to himself than usual, he folded his Hands together and said, "Thank God for my good Dinner! And now I'll have a Nap, and you may all go down Stairs till I pull the Bell."
Some trifling Affair prevented my immediately joining my Mother and Sister. When I went into the Parlour, I found Prue had just screwed her Courage to the Point of Confession. "Mother," she was saying, "I've done so wrong—" and began to cry.
"What is it, Prue?" said my Mother gently, who was blanching Almonds.
"Say first, Mother, that you'll forgive me—"
"Nay, let me first hear what I have to forgive. I am not such a very unforgiving Person, Child, am I?"
"No indeed, Mother!" kissing her Hand. "But oh! I don't know what you'll say! I'm engaged to Tom!"
"I guessed as much long ago," said my Mother coolly.
"You did!"
"Yes—you were very poor Secret-keepers, Prue; clumsy Adepts in Concealment! I guessed, ever since he went, that that Glass Ring was a Love-token."
Prue blushed very deeply. "Ah," said she, fluttering, and looking with downcast Fondness on the slighted Bauble, "it is a Love-token, indeed, Mother! and even more than that."
"What more?" said my Mother quickly. Prudence was silent.
"You don't mean, Prudence," with some Agitation in her Tone, "that it's a Wedding Ring?"
"What if it were, dear Mother?" (faltering)—"Should you be very angry?"
"I should be angry and hurt—deeply hurt!"
"Ah—" Prue, who was kneeling beside my Mother, turned her Head aside and looked into the Fire.
"Speak, Patty!" said my Mother, much perturbed, "and tell me if you can—since your Sister will not—Has there been a Marriage?"
"A Fleet-Marriage, or Something of that Sort," said I, reluctantly.
"A Fleet-Marriage?" cried my Mother, holding up her Hands, and sinking back in her Chair.
"Mother! Mother! hear me," cries Prue, casting her Arms across my Mother's knees and looking up at her. "We parted at the Church-door,—House-door, I mean; we knew we were only engaged; we did not look on it as a regular Marriage,—only as binding us together a little—it was the Thought of a Moment—Tom proposed it first—"
"I suppose so," said my Mother, with a Tone of infinite Scorn; "but I little thought that a Daughter of mine could be so persuaded. Oh Prue, Prue! I never could have believed it of you! No Wonder you have gone about sighing and hanging your Head—it has been your only Act of Grace."
Prue, humiliated beyond Expression at these Reproaches, was crying silently—"Don't tell my Father," at length said she.
"Certainly I shall not," said my Mother, still chafed. "I should be quite ashamed of mentioning such a disgraceful Transaction to him—worthier of a Wapping Sailor than of his Brother's Son—Mate to a respectable Merchant Vessel. A Thing only done by the Lowest of the Low—"
"And a few of the Highest of the High," put in I.
"Who thereby reduce themselves to an ignominious Level with the Lowest of the Low," persisted my Mother. "It ought to be put down by Act of Parliament! It will shortly, I understand from Dr. Elwes, who was speaking of the Abuse a little While ago, little thinking that a Culprit stood in his Presence. I never could have believed it of Tom! never have supposed that he could so abuse a Mother's Confidence, and sail off, leaving Dissimulation and Discord behind him—he that used to say 'he couldn't bear to put People to the least Inconvenience!'"
At the Recurrence to this old Catch-Word of his, Prue and I could neither of us help bursting out laughing. My Mother, quite against her Will, was obliged to laugh too. At this Moment, the Door opened; and who should come in but Gatty!
I sprang towards her, while Prue, with a brief Word in passing, took the Opportunity to escape.
"Are you not afraid of coming near me?" said Gatty smiling, as I kissed her.
"Oh no! Our Time came long ago; no Danger of Infection here! But, dear Gatty, we have been in such Suspense about you! Have you not been ill?"
"No, I have been mercifully preserved—James told me you had sent to inquire how I was getting on; and as Lady Betty is a good deal softened towards me just now, I had not much Difficulty in prevailing with her to let me come out for a few Hours, and I thought I would put your Fears at rest by coming to you."
Finding she could stay, we made her remove her damp Cloak and Calash, and take an early Dish of Tea with us. We had a long Fireside Chat; and my Mother at length going up to my Father, who had slept long, Gatty became more unreserved with me, and I soon drew from her all that had happened.
It appeared that Mr. Heavitree had proposed to her during their Walk from Roaring House; but she then considered herself engaged for the Time to Lady Betty, so as she could not in Honour nor Justice draw back; and therefore she would not hear of giving up her Journey to Town, though she promised to give Lady Betty Notice that she should leave her Service as soon as her Ladyship was suited. On the following Day, when they journeyed together, Mr. Heavitree renewed his Suit, and obtained from her that she would quit Lady Betty at the very earliest Day she decently could; after which they talked over their Prospect of mutual Happiness with great Satisfaction, till the Coach overturned. When Gatty reached Town and found Lady Betty in the Small-Pox, she was a good deal astounded, not being quite clear whether she were exempt from it or not; however, she thought her Duty lay plainly before her, and embraced it with as good a Grace as she could. Being her Ladyship's sole Attendant, her Post was arduous; however, she filled it so as to secure very thorough Satisfaction, though very little Gratitude; Lady Betty being one of those who think Gold can requite any Amount of Obligation; at least, as far as the Lower Orders are concerned. And what Amount of Gold, then, had my Lady bestowed on the young Creature who, under Providence, had saved her Life at the Risk of her own? An Annuity? A Purse full of Guineas? No such Thing! An old Gold Snuff-Box, presented to her Ladyship's Grandfather by the obscure Members of some forgotten Corporation! A Thing of no earthly Consideration to her Ladyship; though Gatty guessed that if sold by the Ounce, it might fetch her seven or perhaps ten Guineas.
But Lady Betty was in a dreadful Way about her Face—all marked and seamed; and her fine Complexion quite gone! And though, Gatty said, 'twas hoped when the Redness had gone off, that she would not look so bad, yet the Disorder had left an Impress of Ordinariness, of Commoness behind it, as is not unfrequent, that went sadly against the Stomach of my Lady. And when I said I should have thought that a Personage who set such Store by herself, would have been blinded by Self-prepossession, to any falling off, Gatty said 'twas quite the other Way; for her Ladyship was so well acquainted with every good Point about her, that she was Lynx-eyed to the smallest Deficience, and more intolerant of it than any indifferent Party could be. Whereby it befel that she was ready to dash into Pieces every Looking-glass in the House, and would have them covered up, and would only sit in a Chamber artfully darkened, and would not for the Present let any Man get Sight of her, nor even any of her favourite female Friends, though she was quite well enough to receive them, so much dreaded she their spreading disparaging Reports. She meant to go down to some Watering-place where she was unknown, and there lead a hermetical Life directly the Weather was fine enough; having a Notion that the Sea Air would take off the Redness. Meanwhile, she kept Gatty on hard Duty all Day long, playing Picquet and reading Novels; and Gatty said she only wished they were in some Language she did not understand, for she feared so much trashy Reading must impair her Mind in spite of her Repugnance to it. And when my Lady had Nothing better to do, she abused Gatty for not tying her Hands when she was worst at all Hazards, rather than let her tear at her Face like as one would hackle Flax; averring it would have been better to die than to live such a Fright. However, Gatty said she knew that had not been her Ladyship's Mind at the Time, and she did not consider that she should have been borne out in it. She said she had now learnt at last the Value of Lap-dogs and Parrots, for they helped to divert Lady Betty from her mortifying Reflections more than Anything else. And there was this Good gained, that my Lady now always made her begin and end the Day with reading Prayers and a Chapter; and though she did not seem to attend much, yet Nobody knew but some good Word might make itself heard at last.
Having thus relieved her Mind, Gatty was inclined to hear of our own Affairs while we were taking Tea. She was very sorry to hear of my Father's sad Accident; and, learning from Prue that he would be very glad to shake Hands with her if she did not mind going into his sick-Chamber, where he was now promoted to an easy Chair by the Fire, she stepped up to him with me, and enlivened him for Half-an-Hour with her cheerful Talk. Of course he rallied her about Mr. Heavitree,—that was to be expected,—but she took it very bravely, and gave him back Quip for Crank; yet all so modest and innocent-spoken, as the Jest of a Girl like Gatty was certain to be. And somehow, by Way of Lady Betty, she got round, quite naturally, to Something serious, about Life and Death, Judgment and Eternity, that my Father took better of her than he would have done from us, and that left us all with our Minds in a State of serious Composedness.
Chapter XVII.
Mr. Honeywood's Convalescence.
When Prue and I made up our Books at the Year's End, we found to our great Thankfulness and Satisfaction, that in spite of our having paid many heavy Bills of my Father's, we were on the right Side the Post, and had cleared a good Year's Income. And this I told my Father in so many Words, thinking it would please him as well as ourselves.
"Humph!" said he; "'In spite of having paid many of your Father's heavy Bills.' This carries an ill Sound with it. And the Sense is worse. Many a Father grudges paying his thoughtless Son's bills: well may industrious Daughters grudge paying the Bills of a thoughtless Father—"
"Dear Father! I'm sure we don't grudge—"
"Silence, Mrs. Patty! If I'm falling into a profitable and penitent State of Mind, why should you hinder me? Do you want Nobody to be good but yourself? That's your Pride. I've got my Share of Self-Knowledge and Humiliation, I hope, as well as other People; and when I say I've been thoughtless, Madam, (smiting the Table with his Fist,) I seriously mean it!"
As Mr. Fenwick had just been talking with him, I attributed this virtuous Self-Indignation to his Influence, and only hoped it might last. My Father and he were now mighty Friends: although we were so far from Shoreditch, Mr. Fenwick stepped over to us at least once a Week, saying he could not forget our Attentions to himself during his Illness, and considered us as a kind of Out-Parishioners. On these Occasions he frequently spent an Hour alone with my Father, and then joined us at the Tea-Table, which was profitable to the one Party and pleasant to the other.
At Length, it became practicable to remove my Father down Stairs. But before this was accomplished, he beckoned to my Mother and said, "Delia, I prithee cover up or hide away all the China Figures down Stairs before I come into the Chinese Parlour, or they will bring my Dream to Mind, and set me fancying I see 'em all dancing. Anything but that! I loathe the very Thought of them!—You may sell them if you will—send them to Dick Harper with my Card, and they'll fetch a pretty Figure at the next Auction, especially if you throw in the Five Senses. Idle Baggages! they led me astray, as they've led many a better Man before me. Happy he who can disembarrass himself from their Extravagancies thus easily!"
My Mother did, in Fact, get a pretty little Sum for them; and my Father never bought another Piece of China nor attended another Auction from that Day to this. But this by the Way.
We were sitting very comfortably about the Fire, congratulating ourselves upon being thus re-united,—and my Father was enjoying a Basin of strong Gravy Soup, (for it was a little before Noon,) and wishing my Mother would have a little of it, when all at once down fell a Smelling-Bottle from the Chimney-Piece; a Water-Caraffe on the Table upset; Doors banged, Bells rang without being pulled, the Walls shook, and the Ground sank and rose under us like a Ship at Sea. We shrieked out, and clung to one another; and I, in addition to my Terror, experienced great Nausea, as if I were on Shipboard. My Father immediately exclaimed, "Heyday! there's a Powder-Mill blown up at Hounslow!"
"God pity the poor Creatures in and about it," cries my Mother. The next Moment, in rushes Peter, as white as a Sheet.
"An Earthquake! an Earthquake!" cries he, "Did you feel the Earthquake?"
"Earthquake? you Dolt," says my Father; "'tis a Powder-Mill blown up at Hounslow, I tell ye; and so you'll find before To-morrow."
"Well, Sir," says Peter, "all the Neighbours say as I do, and are scared out of their Wits, expecting another Shock presently, which, for Aught we know, may swallow us up alive."
"Peter, you're an Oaf—a Lubber!" says my Father contemptuously; on which Peter retired; but Prue, who was much frightened, began to cry.
"What's the use of crying, Chit?" says my Father, "is that a Cure for an Earthquake?"
"No, Father, but it's so very awful—"
"Very awful," said my Mother, seriously.
"Very awful indeed," said I.
"Well, of course it would be, if it were an Earthquake," says my Father; "but I say 'twas only a Powder-Mill blowing up somewhere, and so you'll see."
When the Apothecary who had set Father's Leg came in, however, he confirmed the general Opinion that there had been a smart Shock of an Earthquake, and added that it had been accompanied by what we had not noticed, namely, a loud crashing or crackling Noise. Everybody that came into the Shop spoke about it; and there was a general Uncomfortableness and Sense of Insecurity.
In the Dusk of Evening, Dr. Elwes looked in on us; and while he remained, Mr. Fenwick came in. Both spoke of the Earthquake, though my Father would not entirely give into it till it was positively ascertained that no Mill had blown up. Dr. Elwes said that the Shock had been felt on both Sides of the River, as far as Greenwich, and remarked that the natural Phenomena of the last Month had surely been such as to awaken the careless and solemnize the thoughtful Mind.
"For Instance," says he, "the new Year was ushered in by a very remarkable Appearance in the Heavens, of a dusky red Light that seemed to gather into a Focus southward, emitting brilliant Coruscations. I was warm in Bed and asleep at the Time, but I heard it from those who saw it, and it was in the public Prints."
I here put in that I had seen it; being on Watch over my Father at the Time, who was then in his Deliration. I had seen a red Light glowing through the white Window-Curtains, and on going to look out, perceived such a ruddy Glow in the Sky that I had surmised a dreadful, distant Fire somewhere. And again, a few Weeks after, Prue and I were wakened in the Night by such an awful Storm of Thunder, Lightning, Rain, Sleet, and Hail, accompanied by terrific Blasts of Wind, as seemed to go nigh to shake the House to Pieces.
"I slept through it all," said my Father.—"However, Patty does not exaggerate, for the Mischief done by that Tempest at Bristol was immense, and filled the Inhabitants with Consternation."
"I wonder what it all means," said Prudence ruefully.
"Means!" repeated my Father, with Contempt.
"It means that we should watch," said Mr. Fenwick, mildly, "since our Lord will come at an Hour we know not of. Many poor People in Shoreditch came to me in great Alarm, to ask me if I thought the End of the World was coming. I told them I knew no more then they did, for that of that Hour knoweth no Man; no, not the Angels in Heaven, but only the Father; but that what our Saviour had said to his own Disciples, he had said unto all—'Watch!'"
And he went on to speak of the Desirableness and Duty of a continual State of Preparedness for whatever might happen to us from within or without, and the Confidence with which Believers might repose on the Care of their heavenly Father, with such Feeling and Power, that all of us went to Bed that Night in a State of chastened Composure, widely apart from ungodly Indifference or slavish Fear. There was more Solemnity and Affection than usual in our Parting for the Night; since we knew not but we might be swallowed up quick like Dathan and Abiram ere Morning Light, though we humbly hoped, in that Case, to reopen our Eyes in a better World.
This being our State of Mind, it was with Disgust that I learnt on the following Day, that the reckless Men of Fashion and Quality who had supped Overnight at Bedford House, had gone about the Town on their Way Home, betwixt four and five o'Clock in the Morning, knocking at Doors and mischievously frightening timid harmless People, by bawling out, "Past four o'Clock, and a dreadful Earthquake!" "The Fool hath said in his Heart, There is no God!"
During the Remainder of this Month we went on quietly enough, seeing few Persons except in the Way of Business, which, by Reason of the Severity of the Season, was much slacker than in fine Weather. My Father progressed so slowly that we had our private Doubts whether he were not invalided for Life. However, from being one of the most impatient, he had now become the most patient of Men; so that 'twas quite a Pleasure to nurse him. His gay Companions having altogether forsook him in his Illness, he was now grown totally indifferent to them, and if one or other of them dropped in on him, he treated them with so much sardonic Irony that they were unlikely to intrude very soon on him again. He missed 'em very little, having now taken a great Fancy to reading, and to the Company of my Mother, both of which were very safe and inexpensive Luxuries. He had grown singularly fond of Mr. Fenwick and of Dr. Elwes, the latter of whom frequently honoured us by dropping in to play a Rubber—they were Men of two different Worlds, but yet neither of them so unacquainted with the World that was characteristically the other's, as to be wholly unable to make Allowances:—one brought my Father worldly Wisdom and Wit, the other heavenly Wisdom and innocent Pleasantry; one supplied him with humorous Books, the other, with profitable Reading; so that, between 'em both, he fared not badly. He was now getting through the History of Don Quixote de la Mancha, which he read Snatches of with infinite Gusto to my Mother; and was continually quoting the Proverbs of Sancho Panza. Thus we went peacefully on, and were losing all Fear or even Memory of the Earthquake; when, on the very same Day of the very next Month, which is to say, February 1750, we were affrighted out of our Senses by a worse Shock and abundantly more terrifical, between Five and Six o'Clock in the Morning. Oh! how Prue and I shrieked out, and rushed down, half dressed, to my Father and Mother. They were sitting up in Bed, having been woke out of Sleep by a loud, rumbling Noise, accompanied by thick, low Flashes of Lightning. The House was still rocking and the Ground heaving all about us, Bells ringing, Clocks striking, Glass and China jingling, and Furniture shifting from one Place to another. My Father was this Time seriously frightened, and cried, "Come to my Arms, my Children, and let us die together—we heeded not the first Warning. 'Tis as well to meet our Fate here, all together, as anywhere else, since whither could we flee from Danger? even if I were an able-bodied Man, which I am not. Good Lord, deliver us. Because there is none other that can help us, but only thou, O Lord!"
So I remained folded in his Arms, and Prue in my Mother's, while we heard Persons in wild Affright loudly shrieking in the open Air. I have often thought since, that had Death indeed come upon us at that Moment, it would have been attended with much Mitigation of its Bitterness.
By-and-by, the Vibration having ceased, we slowly withdrew from one another's Arms, with deep-drawn Breaths; and set about dressing and resuming the Occupations of the Day in strange Discomfort and Sadness. I have since read, in Books of Travellers, that in Countries where Earthquakes are prevalent, the Natives are in many Instances far more consternated by them than Strangers, who being unaccustomed to them do not in one View concentrate all their disastrous Consequences. This I can well believe; for certainly all London was infinitely more appalled by this second Shock than by the first. How can I convey any Figure of the Impressions of Fear and Superstition? how describe the alarmed Consciences of Sinners, the Perturbation of grave Men, the Distress of tender Mothers, the Cries of affrighted Children at a Danger so novel and Stupendous? To increase the general Panic, while godly Preachers like Bishop Sherlock and Bishop Secker were endeavouring to improve the Judgment to Purposes of Penitence and Piety among the upper Ranks, and good Ministers like Mr. Fenwick were calling on the lower Orders to repent and be saved, a fanatic Itinerant began preaching in the Streets, and boldly prophesying another Shock on the same Day of April, which would swallow up all London. The Impression produced by this Prediction was such as that Churches now filled to overflowing, Public-Houses were deserted, good Books were read, Alms liberally bestowed on the Poor, and the Sick and them that lay in Prison visited. O that such Deeds of Humanity had sprung from some better Principle than selfish Fear! "Ah," says one poor Man lying in Newgate, "I expect that when the next Earthquake occurs, my Chains, like those of St. Paul, will fall off." "Let us eat and drink," cries another tipsily, "for To-morrow we die!"—"I can't help fearing this next Shock that is to happen in April," says a poor Wretch in the Hospital that is sure not to live out the Week. "Ah," says a meek Patient in the next Bed, placidly smiling, "I shall be out of Harm's Way before that comes!"
Others combated their Neighbours' Fears with Reason and Ridicule; others drowned Thought altogether in additional Excess of Riot. I understood from Gatty that many smart Things were said about the Earthquake in the upper Circles; and every fresh Instance of a fine Lady caring for her Soul and going to Prayers elicited Fits of modish Laughter. And yet, who deserved the Judgment of Heaven to fall upon them, if the Rich did not? whose Dissoluteness and Disregard of Decency and Order had now come to that Pass as quite to paravaunt over the Vices and Crimes of the common Orders. God's sacred Name habitually blasphemed, Christ and the Holy Spirit ignored, the Devil disbelieved, Chastity laughed at, Ribaldry approved, Drunkenness considered Good-Breeding, Servants treated as if not of the same Flesh and Blood with themselves, Sabbaths desecrated, Gambling carried to an incredible Extent, the Hanging of poor Wretches at Tyburn counted a Spectacle worthy to recreate Noblemen, public Honour a mere Name, Patriotism the Synonyme for revolutionary Principle, no Truth, nor Honour, nor Justice, in Court nor in public Offices ... who, then, had Reason to dread the just Judgments of God?
At the very Time the Earth was rocking with the first Shock, there were profane Scoffers in Club-houses who would bet, whether it were an Earthquake or the Explosion of a Gunpowder Magazine. At the very Time two-thirds of London were on their Knees, observing a general Fast and Day of Humiliation, the Gambling-houses were filled with Members of Parliament, who found themselves with a Day of Leisure on their Hands. A Man dropped down Dead at the Door of White's Coffee-house: he was carried in; the Club immediately made Bets whether he were dead or not; a Surgeon came in to bleed him; the Wagerers interposed, saying it would affect the Fairness of the Bet!
O Madness of mortal Men! O Hardness, past Belief, of impenitent Sinners!
Chapter XVIII.
The Night of Terror.
As the dreaded Day approached, the public Panic increased to that Degree, that even the Sceptics with a Scoff on their Lips thought it would be as well to "keep out of Harm's Way," and "Follow the Fashion." Not that they intended Penitence and Self-recollection, no, no; but since London was to be swallowed up, they would take Lodgings, that Night, in the Country.
In Consequence of this, every one that had a Room or Bed to let, in Chelsea, Hammersmith, Kensington, Kew, Richmond, or anywhere within a moderate Distance of the Metropolis, raised their Prices to an immoderate Height; and in every little Shop or Parlour Window a Card or Paper, ill writ and ill spelt, might be seen pasted or wafered, notifying that "Hear might be had a Bedd or Bedds on the ensewing Nite of the Erthquak." Nay, Women whose Fortunes or Occupations did not admit of their leaving their City Homes, quilted themselves warm "Earthquake Bedgowns," in which to take Flight in the Night, if their Houses should tumble about their Ears.
It might be about a Week before the Event was expected, and while the Churches were daily filled to overflowing, that Gatty came to inquire whether her Lady could have the Sitting-room and Bed-chamber formerly occupied by Mr. Fenwick, for "the Earthquake Night." Though the Apartments were unlet, my Mother did not much relish Lady Betty for her Guest, even for twenty-four Hours, and said she did not know she was minded to let the Rooms at all; she was sure we could not do Things to my Lady's liking. However, Gatty, who was to be Lady Betty's Companion, and had a great Fancy for coming to us on her own Account, said she was instructed to offer us any Price within Reason, and of her own Head offered so handsome a Sum, that my Mother said she should be ashamed of taking it for one Night. There was Nothing in that, Gatty said; Lady Betty never grudged any Money on herself, and could well afford to pay it, and would rather like boasting beforehand and afterwards, how much her Earthquake Lodgings cost her. So, as we well knew all our Neighbours were making the same Market, and we should really be disaccommodated by having her Ladyship and finding a Lodging for Mr. James, we would not be so nice as to hold out, but accepted the Terms in consideration of the Trouble. I should, indeed, have put in a Proviso for Mr. Fenwick, whose Safety was infinitely more important than my Lady's, had I believed there was the least Chance of his consenting to occupy his old Quarters; but I knew already that he would by no Means forsake his poor People in Shoreditch, even on the Supposal of any especial Dangerousness on that Night, which he did not, averring the mysterious Intentions of Providence to be altogether hidden out of Sight, in spite of the Presagings of Impostors and Fanatics.
Gatty joyfully left us therefore, having, she owned, been a little infected by the Fears of those around her, which were especially prevalent in the Servants' Hall, where the poor Maids and Men were to be left in their ordinary Charge; my Lady not entertaining the same Fear of their being swallowed up alive as of herself.
And was it not strange, now, that a Lady who might have commanded the Use of various Country Seats, or have hired an entire House somewhere in the remoter Parts by the Week, for about the same Sum she was to pay for a single Night, should prefer her own selfish Accommodation before that of her whole Household? But, I am sorry to say, hers was not a singular Case.
The Bustle into which we and our Neighbours were put, by the Expectance of our Quality-Lodgers, had Something in it strangely dissonant to the Occasion. Here were Carts arriving at the Door with my Lady's own Feather-Bed and Blankets, my Lady's own Linen and Toilette, my Lady's own Cushions and Foot-stool, even my Lady's own Parrot: and Wine, and Cordials, and Sweetmeats, and Packs of Cards; though the Supper was to be provided by us, "for the good of the House." It seemed that though my Lady intended to be only a Mile or two beyond the Prospect of burying alive, and within Sound and Sight of an engulfed City, she by no Means purposed a reflective Watch and Pause while the Crisis impended, but rather thought to kill Time and drown Fear by Jollity and Entertainment. To this End, she invited certain of her Intimates, including Mr. Paul Caryl, (for she had got tired of keeping the Men at a Distance,) who had likewise secured Lodgings in Chelsea, to spend the Evening with her, and pursue their Diversions far into the Night.
We were not to expect her till the Afternoon previous to the Occasion; but however, shoals of poor, terrified People who had engaged Lodgings in remoter and less expensive Parts, could not be hindered of pouring into the Country for two or three Days beforehand; and as every imaginable Vehicle was pressed into the Service, all the Highroads and leading Thoroughfares of London were absolutely blockaded with Coaches, Chaises, and Chairs, as well as innumerable Foot-Passengers, often inextricably wedged together for ten or fifteen Minutes. One Family, I understood, even took Flight in a Hearse: indeed, Dr. Elwes said it could be likened to Nothing but the consternated Flight that took place at the Beginning of the Great Plague. He added, that the Fields were full of People preparing to Camp out for the Night; just as they were constrained to do after the Fire of London; and finished by observing with an ironical Laugh, "There's a good Time coming for the Doctors; for plenty of Colds will be caught to-night in the wet Fields, to say Nothing of damp Lodgings."
About five o'Clock in the Afternoon, my Lady arrived in her Coach. She was handed out by her Nephew, Mr. Sandys, and her Physician Dr. Plumptree; and Gatty followed with the Lap-Dog. Her Ladyship wore a cherry-colour Sacque and large Straw Hat; but neither the Shadow of the one nor the hue of the other could conceal how her Beauty was ruinated by her sad Complaint. She was no longer even ordinarily comely; all her fine red and white and smooth Skin lost, and her Eyes bleared and spoilt. With much Fuss we got her settled in the upper Parlour; but to say Nothing of her own two Servants, she contrived, the whole of the Time she was under our Roof, to keep Prue and me continually on the Trot. Inquiry soon was made for Mr. Caryl; he had not appeared: my Lady was disappointed; she had expected him to be the Life of the Party. By-and-by, in spite of her Shawls and Cushions, she fancied a Draught from the Window; I was summoned to cure it, and had to cobble an additional Breadth of Dimity to the Curtain as quickly as I could; while my Lady stroked her Lap-Dog at the Fire, and chatted with her two Companions.
"Awfully cold," says the Doctor.
"Screaming cold," says the Nephew. "These inferior Houses always have thin Walls; one might think it was January. To-night, all London's out of Town—Lady Frances Arundel, and Lord and Lady Galway have gone ten Miles into the Country, to play Brag till five in the Morning, and then come back."
"A good many will play Brag," said the Doctor, simpering—"the real Braggarts, I think, are those that stay behind."
"Then you really are afraid, Doctor?" says Lady Betty.
"Well, my Lady, I think it would be a Tempting of Providence to incur any Risk needlessly."
Just then, in came Mr. Caryl. "A thousand Excuses," says he. "I was coming along the Five Fields, when a couple of crazy old Houses tumbled down and blocked up the Way, so I was obliged to come round."
"A lucky Escape for you, Paul," says Mr. Sandys, "it might have been as bad for you as an Earthquake."
"Why, yes," says Mr. Caryl, "though not easily fluttered, it did give me a Qualm, I confess. Besides, it might have been a premonitory Quake that brought the Houses down."
"My Salts, Gatty!" cries Lady Betty.
"Any Casualties?" says the Doctor carelessly.
"To tell you the Truth," says Mr. Caryl, "I was so rejoiced to save my own Bones that I did not stop to inquire whether anyone else had theirs broken." And lightly laughed.
"Feeling!" mutters Mr. Sandys.
"Quack!" responds Mr. Caryl softly.
And then I knew them, that Moment, for the Fox and the Goose!
"Whereabouts in the Five Fields did it happen?" resumes the Doctor.
"Just by that old, empty House, Doctor, wherein two Women were found starved to Death with Cold and Hunger, somewhere about Christmas."
"I'm sure such Things as that ought not to occur," says Lady Betty, dabbing her Forehead with some Essence, "so well as the Poor are provided for."
"Oh yes, especially this Christmas," says Mr. Sandys carelessly—"for, you know, a great many Hogs were seized by the Church-wardens and Overseers of St. George's Parish, that were kept in private Houses and Yards contrary to the Statute made and provided; whereby the Poor, of that Parish at least, if they had not their Christmas Beef, had their Christmas Pork; for it was distributed among them."
"Not gratis, though," said the Doctor.
"No, but very cheap;" said Mr. Sandys. "So I understood."
"I wonder you should understand or hear Anything about it, Harry," says Lady Betty contemptuously.
"Well, Aunt, I happened to hear it named by Mr. Arbuthnot."
"When is Mr. Arbuthnot to marry Lady Grace?" says Mr. Caryl.
"After Lent, I believe," said the Doctor,—"They that marry in Lent will live to repent."
"Why so?" says Lady Betty.
"Nay, Madam, ask your Chaplain. I suppose People should not be feasting when they ought to be fasting."
"Ah, that's it, no Doubt," says Lady Betty—"Let us have Tea now, Gatty; and Plenty of Genoa Macaroons."
The next Time I went up Stairs, which was not till after Dark, they were all playing at Brag.
As I went down, a sudden Blast of Wind from the front Door of the House blew my Candle out, and I groped along into the Shop, muttering, "Who on Earth can be standing in the Draught such a cold Night as this?" At the same Moment I caught a Glimpse of a Couple of dusky Figures standing in the Doorway, and heard, in earnest Under-tones, the Words, "Gatty! is that you?" "Mr. Heavitree! can it be you? What in the World can have brought you here, and at this Time of Night?"—"To be with you, dearest Gatty, in case of your being alarmed, and—and—in case of Anything happening...."
I would not overhear another Word, but went straight into the Parlour and lit my Candle, saying quietly to my Mother, "There's Mr. Heavitree outside, talking to Gatty."
"Have him in!" cries my Father, whose Ears were quicker than I thought, "I want to see what the young Chap is like."—"Hush, Father, he'll overhear you—Maybe he will prefer saying a few Words to Gatty by herself first." "Very likely, very likely," says my Father chuckling—"but I hope he won't go away without coming in, for all that."
I now thought I might go out again with the Candle, and set it in the Shop; but the Current of Air from the Door again nearly blew it out, though I screened it with my Hand. The Stream of Light fell upon Gatty, who turned about and said, "Patty, here's an old Acquaintance,—I'm sure I may ask him in, may not I?" "And welcome," said I. "I am almost too dirty to be seen," says Mr. Heavitree, coming in. "Why, you are all muddy from Head to Foot," cries Gatty, "What can you have been doing?"
Just then, Lady Betty's Bell was pulled pretty sharply, and Gatty was obliged to run off. I could see, by Mr. Heavitree's wincing, that he could not abide the Remembrance of her menial Position, and that it would not be his Fault if she long retained it. I ushered him into the Parlour. My Father, in his easy Chair, stretches out his Hand to him. "Mr. Heavitree," says he heartily, "I'm glad to see you." "You see a very dirty Fellow, Sir," says Mr. Heavitree laughing. "Why, you are dirty, indeed," says my Father, surveying him; "is this the Way you come a-courting? I should say you had been rolling in the Gutter." "Something like it," says Mr. Heavitree; "we Country Folks got feared by this Talk of the Earthquake, so I thought I'd just come up to Town and look after Gatty; but, Sir, what a Place this London is! My Danger along the Road, of being attacked by the Fellow they call the Flying Highwayman, was nothing to what it was when I got into the Streets. I put up my Horse at an Inn, and then set forth, as clean as you'd wish to see me, to Lady Betty's, where I expected to find Gatty; but it was already getting dark, and by Reason of the Panic the Town was almost deserted except by the very worst Sort, who care neither for Heaven nor Earth, and who seemed minded to make the Desertion of Houses an Occasion for pretty general Plunder. Here and there twinkled a miserable little solitary Oil Lamp; here and there a Lantern flitted across, or a Ray of a Tallow Candle streamed from some Window, but with these Exceptions, which only seemed to make Darkness more dismal, there was Nothing to prevent one from breaking one's Shins against Posts and Door-Steps, or walking straight into the Gutters. I was hustled once or twice, and began to think Affairs were not much mended since my Lord Mayor and the Aldermen went up to the King. Suddenly I was pounced on by three disorderly Fellows, who collared me and dragged me into a dark Cellar. One of them held a Lantern to my Face and said, 'Jem, this isn't our Man,' on which I was pushed out pretty near as roughly as I was pulled in. This did not hinder me of taking to my Heels, which occasioned my stumbling into an enormous Heap of wet Mud by the Side of the Foot-Path, with ne'er a Lamp near it, which made me in the Pickle you see. However, I got to Lady Betty's, where I found the Mansion deserted by all save one poor Maid, who sate reading of her Bible by the Light of a Kitchen Candle; all the rest having decamped as soon as my Lady was off, in the Opinion that their Safety was quite as dear to them as hers to her. I asked the poor Creature if she were not afeared to be alone at such a Crisis; but she seemed to be Something of a Predestinarian, and said her Time could come but once, and when the Lord would; she could trust herself in his Hands. I obtained from her that Gatty and my Lady had gone to the Chelsea Bun-House; so then I knew they were with you, Mrs. Patty; and having got a Direction to Chelsea, I soon made out, when I reached it, my Way here. But oh, what a State all the Fields and waste Grounds about you are in! People in Tents, Booths, Carts, Coaches, and Caravans; awaiting the Morning Light. The Field Preachers are busy among them, and are exhorting attentive Multitudes: but will the Impression survive To-morrow?—I think, Sir, my Mud is dry now; and if you will lend me a Clothes-Brush, I'll step out and groom myself a little."