The history of Miss Harriot Montague
by anonymous
Digital editor’s note
This text has been OCRed and hand-corrected from the digital surrogate in Penn Libraries’ Digital Collection of British and American Fiction. The original book is held by the Kislak Center for Special Collections (Penn Libraries, University of Pennsylvania). —
J THE GODFREY F. SINGER MEMORIAL PRESENTED BY MR. AND MRS. JACOB SINGER —
THE HISTORY OF
MISS HARRIOT MONTAGUE
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. I.
LONDON:
Printed for J. Roson, No. 54, St, martin’s
Lc Grand, near Newgate street.
M DCC LX
THE
HISTORY
OF
MISS HARRIOT MONTAGUE.
In that delightful season of the year, when nature throws forth all her hoard of charms, and puts to shame the weak efforts of art; when the groves were adorned with verdure, the meads and gardens enamelled with flowers when the little warbling choristers of the woods begin to make their nests in the thickset branches of the shady bowers. In the reign of our late sovereign George the 1st, there came to settle
[2] at a small village near Plymouth, a French gentleman and his lady, whose names were Le Montague, they left France, their native country, upon account of their religion. Monsieur Le Montague had been master of a vessel, with which, making many prosperous voyages, he had gained a pretty fortune; and was now resolved to pass the remainder of his days in a country of liberty, where he might enjoy his religion without molestation, having disposed of all his effects in France, and remitted the money by bills to England, into the hands of one of his correspondents at Plymouth, where he chose to settle; he having some acquaintance with the most considerable merchants, with whom he had traded. He had been in England several times before, and was perfectly skilled in our language; he put part of his money into the public funds, and with the rest purchased a house and some lands, on which he lived with his wife and a few servants,
[3] as happily as any man on earth could do; nothing was wanting but children to makes him completely so. He had been married eight years, and no prospect of having any; however, he had not lived in this healthful country above 18 months, when his lady with much joy acquainted him she was with child, at which news he was much transported, and returned thanks to heaven. She was at the expiration of her time happily delivered of a child, which proved a girl, whose life in the subject of this history being full of such strange misfortunes and wonderful adventures, that it well deserves the notice of the public: they gave her the name of her fond mother, which was Harriot; the child was so beautiful, everybody that saw her admired her.
It is needless to tell you that monsieur Le Montague and his lady bred her up with all the care and tenderness imaginable; but it pleased heaven to deprive this little creature
[4] of her mother before she was three years old, for Madam Le Montague fell sick of a fever, and died, after lingering under that terrible disorder eight months: she was well respected by all her neighbours, which made her greatly lamented, especially by the poor, to them she was very kind. Poor Harriot was left to the care of her father, who was deeply concerned for the death of his loving wife, looking upon the child as the dear pledge of which was left him, of their mutual affection: he was so doatingly fond of her, that he was resolved never to marry again, but to make it the business of his life to instruct and provide for her on the most advantageous manner he was able.
Nor was his good intentions frustrated, for Harriot as she increased in years showed so great acapacity, and so quick an apprehension in all she went about, that he had reason to expect great things from her; nor were
[5] his expectations without foundation for before she was twelve years old she could play on the lute and harpsichord dance finely. Speak French and Italian perfectly, sung delightfully, writ delicately, and used her needle with so much art and skill, as if Pallas had been her governess. Monsieur Le Montague offered praises to heaven hourly for her, and was more fond of her than he ought to have been, fancying he could not outlive the loss of her: she in return for his excessive fondness, was so obedient to his will, that his commands were always punctually obeyed; she never offended him. But man is a frail creature, and there are unlucky hours in life, which, if not carefully armed against, give us opportunities of being undone. A merchant of London, in whose hands Monsieur Le Montague had a great sum of money, died, and he was obliged to make a journey to town on purpose to look after it, and get it out of the executrix’s hands
[6] who was looked upon to be no very honest woman. He would not venture to take Harriot with him, for fear of the small-pox, which at that time was very outrageous in London: he left her with a gentlewoman, whom he had taken into his house since the death of his wife, as a housekeeper, to manage the servants and wait on his daughter: he set out for London as soon as he had provided everything necessary for the journey, and took up his residence at a friend’s house in the city, where he was joyfully received. When he had transacted the business he came upon, he was resolved to stay a few days to enjoy the pleasures of the town, where he had not been for many years: he went to court and the playhouses. His friend and he being together one evening at the play, two very handsome well dressed ladies came into the pit and sat down before them, one of these ladies was very beautiful and genteel, the other seemed to be
[7] her companion. Monsieur Le Montague felt a strange alteration in himself, at the sight of this woman; he fell into discourse with her, and presented some oranges and sweetmeats to her; he found her conversation as bewitching as her face and mein: his friend kindly cautioned him, but in vain. In fine, the play being done, he prevailed on the ladies to be admitted to see them home, and asked his friend to accompany him, which he, after great persuasions, unwillingly consented to: they ushered the ladies into a coach, the ladies bid the coachman drive to a street in Piccadilly, where being come they alighted, and the gentlemen were invited into a house furnished very genteely. They staid supper, which was served up by two maid servants, consisting of cold meat, tarts, and wine.
Supper being over, they entered into a free manner of conversation; the lady, who appeared to be the
[8] mistress of the house, was the youngest and handsomest, told them she was a widow, and had buried her husband about two years before, who was a country gentleman; he had left her a moderate fortune, and died without issue. She finding the country too melancholy for her, had come to London with this lady her aunt, who was a widow also; but having had an ill husband, was not so well provided for, as one of her birth and fortune deserved: they had taken a house in that part of the town, as most airy and retired, and had but few visitors: then she excused herself with a charming air of modesty, for having admitted, these strangers to this freedom, which indeed Monsteur Le Montague had desired with great importunity. They spent the remainder of the evening in a very agreeable conversation, and then respectfully took leave, after having obtained of the two ladies permission to repeat
[9] their visits, and continue the acquaintance chance had so happily begun. The servant having called a coach, Monsieur Le Montague gave her half a crown, and entered into it with his friend, over head and ears in love with his charming widow; his friend pleasantly ridiculed him all the way home, telling him these ladies were doubtless kept-women or jilts, but Monsieur Le Montague was so inflamed with love for the young widow, that he was deaf to all he said, yet seemed to hearken to him, and turn the adventures into a jest, saying, he did not intend to visit them any more.
When he got home he was very desirous of going to bed, but the thoughts of his charming widow so deprived him of rest, that he lay awake all night, thinking on nothing but her. He visited her the next day, and was entertained with so much modesty and wit, that he lost all consideration, and resolved, if possible, to gain her for his wife. And now it is fit that we
[10] should know who she was, and that we relate this fair one’s life, whose true name is Melinda.
She was the younger daughter of a country gentleman, of a good family and estate, and though well educated, and very witty, and accomplished:, yet being wantonly inclined she at the age of fifteen fell in love with a young officer of the guards, who came to the town her father lived in to visit some relations. This gay young rake, who had a wife and two children in London, made love secretly to this young lovely unexperienced girl, and having prevailed on her maid to let him meet her in a grove behind her father’s house, where he pretended honourable love to her, and promised to marry her. In fine, having gained her affections and ruined her, fearing her father would revenge the injury he had done his daughter, if he came to the knowledge of it, he one evening took leave of her to go for London, pretending it
[11] was to desire his friends to get him a better post, as he was at that time but an ensign; then he would write to his relations to move his suit to her father. But alas! the deluded Malinda, young as she was, too well discerned her lover’s base design, and was distracted with shame, love, and revenge; she reproached him (letting fall a shower of tears) in words so tender and so moving, that had he not been a hardened wretch, and one of those heroick rakes that have been well versed in every vice, that this famous city can instruct youth in, he would have relented; but he was a complete gentleman, and had the tongue of a lawyer; was as deceitful as a courtier, had no more religion than honesty, was handsome, lewd, and inconstant; yet he pretended to be much concerned at leaving her, and made a thousand protestations of his fidelity to her. He set out for London the next morning before day, and left the poor undone Melinda; in the
[12] utmost despair; she was afraid to disclose her grief to any but her treacherous maid, who had been the confident of their amour: some months past without one line from him, which convinced her of being more unfortunate than she at first imagined; she found herself with child, which put a thousand dreadful designs into her head, sometimes she was resolved to put an end to her wretched life, and prevent her shame, but then reflecting on the miserable state her soul must be in for ever, those thoughts made her desist from her dismal purpose; but finding it imposhble to conceal her misfortune much longer, she was resolved to go to London in search of the wretch, the author of her miseries.
In order to this she got what money she could together, and one evening, having before acquainted her treacherous confident with her design, she packed up her cloathes and what rings and other things she had
[13] of value. At midnight the maid got two of the men servants habits, which they put on, and so disguised themselves, each carrying a bundle, they went away from her father’s house by break of day; the maid having ordered her brother, to whom she had told her design, to meet them a little way from the house with horses, on which they mounted; he being the guide, went with them twenty miles, which was near halfway to London. There they parted with him, well rewarded him for his trouble, and he took the horses back, after bribing him well to be secret; but they did not fear he would make any discovery; he being so much concerned in assisting them in their flight.
They lay at the inn that night which he had carried them to, from whence a stagecoach went every other day to London, and was to set out from thence the next morning, in which they went, having changed their clothes at a bye ale-house on the
[14] road before they came to the inn, and gave their men’s habits to their conductor, they appeared to be really what they were; and Melinda’s beauty made a conquest of an old superannuated captain, who with his nephew, a youth about twelve years of age, was in the coache. He soon entered into discourse with her, she wanted not wit, her youth and fine habit she had on, informed him she was a person of no mean degree. He asked her many questions, and made her large offers of his service, and she was nobly treated by the old gentleman at dinner. They being now within a few miles of London, the unfortunate Melinda, who knew not where to look for a lodging, nor how to find out the base author of her miseries, ventured to tell the old gentleman that she was a stranger in town, and should be highly obliged to him if he could help her to a lodging in some private house of good reputation, and a sight of Frederick, whom she fupposed he might
[15] have some knowledge of, being an officer. The old gentleman was indeed no stranger to him nor his vices, and immediately guested the condition of the unhappy Melinda by her blushes: he joyfully told her, that he was well acquainted with him, and belonged to the same regiment, and that he would introduce her into the house of a lady who was his relation, who would study to make her as happy as she could desire. The unfortunate Melinda joyfully accepted his generous offer, looked on this as Providence, and him as her only friend. But alas, she was greatly deceived, for it was only a forerunner of greater misfortunes which proved her entire ruin; for the captain believing her now entirely ruined, had his own satisfaction in view, and pitying her condition, knowing the villainous Frederick was already married, thought it would be a deed of charity in him to keep her for himself. In order to which, as soon as the stage came to
[16] the inn, he hired a hackney eoach, into which he put his nephew and a servant that be had with him, who rid up one of his horses; sent them home to his own house; and went with the lady and her maid to a house in Piccadilly where dwelled a useful lady, in plain English, a private quality bawd, who used to lodge a mistress for him often. This private procuress was well-bred, and a saint in appearance, she lived in so private a manner, that her neighbours was unacquainted with her profession. She passed for a married lady, and gave out that her husband was first lieutenant of a man of war, and that he was at the East Indies, where the ship was stationed, and that she let her lodgings to people of fashion; she kept a maidservant, and always had a handsome attendant or two which passed for relations, who came to visit her out of the country. She was called aunt by one, and cousin by another, as she directed the poor creatures to style her. The house was neatly furnished.
[17] and there was no young creature in it at that time but our unfortunate traveller, and a lady whose name was Lucinda, a young girl about eighteen years of age,, who had been trapanned there, and ruined by a nobleman at that time famous for such villainous actions; this was the person that was with her at the play, when Monsieur Le Montague saw them. The captain presented the unfortunate Melinda to this good lady, giving her particular charge to be careful and kind to her; but the old insinuating bawd had no occasion to be told of that, for feeling her so young, handsome, and so well dressed, was well pleased with her company, and was determined to practise all her arts to gain her esteem and friendship, hoping in time she would prove a good bargain to her. Supper was soon provided, and our unfortunate traveller eat very heartily. Being a little fatigued with her journey, she drank two or three glasses of wine, which made her
[18] for the present forget all her misfortunes. He pressed her to know her circumstances, she freely told him that the base Frederick had promised her marriage and ruined her, but she would not tell him her true name, nor from whence she came, but with tears entreated him to bring the base Frederick to her, which he promised to do the next morning. He then took his leave of her, much charmed with his valuable prize, hoping he should soon obtain his desires, but in his heart he could but condemn his friend’s villainy, as he knew that he was already married.
He went to his own home to his wife, for he had one, a very amiable good sort of a woman; he had likewise two children, but had never shown a parental regard for neither, nor a sincere love for his wife, but used her very ill. The poor unfortunate Melinda was conducted with her maid to a handsome chamber, the maid undressed herself and was soon asleep,
[19] but the miserable Melinda could not close her eyes, She reflected on her own actions. It is impofiible to describe the uneasiness, or more properly speaking, the agonies she underwent, when she considered that she had left her tender parents, blasted the reputable family She belonged to, since none could but help guessing the cause of her sudden flight; that she was now a stranger in the place, in the hands of tshose she knew nothing of; that in case Frederick, from whom she had little cause to expect any good, refused to marry and take care of her, she was ruined to all intents and purposes; she was scarce sixteen years of age, in a strange place, and lay open to all the frauds that are practised in London, and amongst strangers that she was not the least acquainted with. She could not return to her friends, nor had with her but a small matter which could not long keep her from starving; and how was she to provide for the poor helpless infant she was then big
[20] with? This thought almost broke her heart; she shed a flood of tears and thought death a great happiness if she could be blessed with it; thus she pasted the night without closeing her eyes; thus by one imprudent action we then ruin the peace and quiet of our lives for ever, by one false and imprudent step undo ourselves. Would mankind but reflect how barbarous a deed it is, how much below a man, nay, how like the devil it is to debauch a young experienced virgin, and expose to ruin aird an endless train of miseries the person whom hia persuasions hath drawn to gratify his beastly lust, to oblige him at the expense of her own peace and honour to gratify his desire. It certain that if our laws be just that punish a man with death who kills another, he certainly merits that or something worse that ruins an innocent helpless virgin, unacquainted with the frauds of mankind. What an abominable detested villain is he who betrays a
[21] foolish maid, that credits his false oaths, vows, and cursed deceitful tongue, and at last abandons her to shame and misery? Is he not worse than a savage, nay, the savage has more humanity. And if women were not infatuated, doubtless every maid would look on the man that proposes such a question to her as her mortal enemy, and from that moment despise him. Forgive this digrestion, our unfortunate girls condition and wrongs must inspire every generous mind with some concern and resentment against the greatest part of mankind.
The captain, who dreamed of her all night, and was on fire to possess her, sent for his friend Frederick in the morning to a tavern, told him of his adventure, and asked him what he meant to do with her, and who she was: but to this last question he was dumb, well knowing that the wretched Melinda was the captain’s own niece, being his sister’s daughter. He said she was a country squire’s daughter
[22] in another town, that he could do nothing for her, but give her a purse of money, and remove her to a cheap lodging, and send her back to her father’s when she was up again. The captain reproved him, and said he would himself pay her lodging, and contribute something towards providing for her: nay, in Short, that if he would quit her company he would keep her. But Frederick was startled at this proposal, fearing he would discover who she was, and that it would be a quarrel betwixt them, and his ruin. He desired some time to consider of that, and concluded to go immediately with himto her. They found her up, her eyes swoln with weeping: at the moment Frederick entered the chamber, she swooned; his love revived, he catched her in his arms; the captain, disordered with this sight, went downstairs, and left them alone with none but the maid, who shutting the door, left them together. ’Tis needless to relate what
[23] passionate expressions passed on her side, and excuses on his. In fine, he told her she was in an ill house, that the captain had bad designs upon her, and that he would that evening fetch her away and take care of her; that she should not discover who she was, as she valued her own peace and his life. In fine, poor Melinda, born to be deceived, gave credit to all he said, and followed his directions. The captain and he went away together; and in the evening Frederick, having gone to an obscure midwife’s near Chelsea, and took a lodging for her, fetched her away and carried her thither, pretending great fondness. Here she continued some time, never stirring out of doors. He continually visited her, and told the captain he had sent her into the country. At last she was delivered of a dead child, and lay long ill of a fever; and Frederick, being quite tired with the expense, proposed to her to return home. She urged his promises and vows to marry her,
[24] till he was obliged to disclose the fatal secret to her, that he was married already. What words can express her resentments and disorder at that instant? In short, he left her in this distraction, and that evening sent her a letter to call on him in a coach alone at a tavern he appointed, saying he had thought of a means to make her easy. She imprudently went, there he had hired two bailiffs to arrest her with a false action. She was by them carried to a sponging house, and there kept while he sold his post, and with his family went into the country; having the night he trepanned her took away from the midwife’s her deaths, money, and jewels, and discharged the maid; who not daring to return to her friends or mistress’s father’s, went down to an aunt she had in another shire; when Frederick had dispatched his business and was gone, the officers told her he had released her, and she might go where she pleased, she was so weak she could scarce
[25] walk, nor knew one step of the way, or the name of the place she was in. One of these fellows was so moved with her complaints, that he led her to the midwife’s house as she directed, having learned the name of the street during her abode with her. The midwife, who knew nothing of what she had suffered, received her with amazement, and soon gave her an account how Frederick had taken away all her clothes, and sent away her maid, which so afflicted Melinda, that she went half dead to bed. In the morning, not knowing what other course to take, having neither clothes nor money, and the midwife being poor, giving her to understand she could not long entertain her, she resolved to seek out the generous captain. In order to which she desired the midwife to go with her in a coach to the lady’s house at Westminster, to which he had at first carried her: they went, found the house, and were received by Mrs. – – with much
[26] civility and kindness. The colonel was sent for, and came before dinner; he took her in his arms with transport, protested never to part, but take care of her till death. She related to him Frederick’s base usage of her. He told her he had sold his post and left the town. And in short, the midwife, being treated and rewarded for bringing her thither, took leave. The best rooms in the house were ordered for Melinda, and the captain did that night sleep in her arms : thus her first misfortune involved her in a worse. Some months she lived in this manner, being richly clothed and bravely maintained by her gallant, who doted upon her. In this time she contracted a great friendship with a young woman in the house, Lucinda, who was very handsome, good-natured, and about the age of twenty: they were continually together, and lay in one bed when the captain did not come to lie there. By this means they became So intimate, that Lucinda gave
[27] her an account who she was, and how she came there.
She told her she was the daughter of an eminent divine, who had seven children, and very good preferment in the country; but living very high, and breeding his children up at a great rate, provided no fortunes for them; so that dying before they were placed out in the world, thy were left to shift; and she being one of the youngest, being then about thirteen, was taken by a lady to wait on a little daughter she had about seven years old, and with the family brought up to town; that in a year’s time her master, who was a young gentleman, ruined her; and fearing her lady should discover the intrigue, persuaded her to quit her service, pretending sickness, and that London did not agree with her; and take leave of her lady to return to her mother, who kept a boarding school in the country to maintain herself and the children, two of the boys being yet at
[28] school, and two girls at home. But she went not to her mother as she pretended, but into a lodging her master had provided for her. In this house, he for two years maintained and kept her company; but at last growing weary, gave her a small allowance; so that by the bawd’s persuasions, she admitted others to her embraces, and was at this time maintained by a merchant in the city, and concluded her story with many tears; saying, she did not like this course of life, and wish’d she could find a way to leave it; but that the bawd always kept her bare of money by borrowing and wheedling it out of her, and that they were always poor and wanting money, living, as she saw, very high in diet; that she had had several children, but had but one alive, and that was at nurse at Chelsea, being a little girl, about three years old, which she had by a young lord, who took care of it. Melinda promised to serve her in all she vas able.
[29] Now a strange turn happened in her affairs : the captain’s brother-in-law, Melinda’s father, having made all the inquiry after his daughter that was possible in the country, and offered a reward to any that should inform him what was become of her, was at last acquainted with the manner of her going to London by the maid’s brother who had procured the horses for them. On which news he came away for London in search of her; he arrived at his brother’s, the captain’s house, tells him his business, and begs his assistance to find her out knowing nothing who had debauched her at first, nor why she fled tho’ he too rightly guessed that must be the occasion of her withdrawing herself. The captain, who had never seen his niece Melinda in the country, having not been at his brother’s house for many years pash was a little surprised at the circumstances of time and place where he met with this young woman, and longed to get to her to question
[30] her about it. It was night when his brother arriv’d, so he was oblig’d to delay satisfying his curiosity till the morning; then he went to Melinda, and telling her the reason of his coming, and that her father was come, she swooned, and by that too well convinc’d him, that he had lain with his own niece, and not only committed a great sin, but dishonoured his family. He at this moment felt the stings of guilt and bitter repentance; he resolv’d never more to commit the like; and now from an amorous lover, who used to teach her vice, he became a wise monitor, and preach’d up virtue and repentance; and told her, he would that day remove, her from that ill house and place her in the country, give her a maintenance to live honestly, and if possible, dispose of her to advantage; that he would endeavour to reconcile her to her father, provided she would never disclose what had pass’d between them. She gladly agreed to all: and here providence was
[31] so merciful as to give her an opportunity to be happy again; but, alas, youth once vitiated is rarely reform’d; and woman, who whilst virtuous is an angel, ruin’d and abandon’d by the man she loves, becomes a devil. The bawd had prevented all these good designs from coming to effect, by introducing a young nobleman into her cornpany, the most gay agreeable man in the world, who was very liberal to the procuress, and made Melinda such large presents, and used such rhetorick, that she could not resist his solicitations, but yeilded to his desires. She was for this cause deaf to reason, and acquainted Lucinda and Mrs. — what had passed between her uncle and her: so it was agreed that she should go where her uncle desired; what she could, and return to them. In the evening the captain came and took her and her clothes away, and carried her to Chelsea to a widow gentlewoman’s house that was his friend. The next morning he returned
[32] turned with her father, having told him, that Frederick had ruined her; and that having fled to London, she had found a lady of his acquaintance out, where fly had been taken care of for four days past, having been abandoned and ill used by Frederick that he had heard of it from this lady but the day before his arrival, and counselled him to forgive her, and take her home again, or continue her with this good lady to live privately, and allow her something. This was what the captain had contrived, and taught Melinda to say. The father heard this with great grief, and swore to take revenge upon Frederick; but that heaven prevented, for they had news of his death soon after; being thrown from off his horse as he was hunting, and killed on the spot, in which heaven’s justice was greatly manifested.
Now doating upon the unfortunate Melinda, he consented to see and provide
[33] for her, but not to carry her home to his wife and other daughters, lest it should publish his misfortune more; but resolved to allow her a convenient maintenance to live with this gentlewoman, and at his return to say, that she was run away with, and married to a person much below what he expected, belonging to the sea; and that he had done what he thought fit for her, and left her in town. This, he thought, would silence his neighbours and afflicted wife, who had been long indisposed with the grief she had fallen into on her account.
’Tis needless to relate what passed between the father and daughter at their first meeting; the disorder both were in was extraordinary but having promised to allow her thirty pounds a year, on condition she lived, soberly and retired in this gentlewoman’s house, and dispatched some other affairs that he had to do in town, he returned home; and she remained
[34] somedays in this place, her uncle visiting, and frequently admonishing her to live well and repent of her follies. But she could not bear this confinement, but longed to see her young lover and friend Lucinda again: in short, she watched her opportunity one morning, when the gentlewoman went out to a friend that lay sick, who had sent for her; and packed up her clothes, called a boat, and left a letter on the table for her uncle, to tell him she was gone to town to live, at the house where, he had placed her in before, where she should be glad to see him; and so went away to Mrs— where she was joyfully received. The captain soon received the news of her flight and the letter; went to her, and used all arguments to persuade her thence, but to no purpose; so she continued there, and had variety of lovers; learning all the base arts of that vile profession; till at lash having, been so cunning as to have laid up a thousand pounds, besides a great
[35] stock of rich clothes, a watch, necklace, rings, and some plate, having liv’d in several lodgings, and been kept by several men of fashion, she took Lucinda and furnished a house, kept two maidservants, and Lucinda’s pretty girl, and liv’d genteelly, being visited by none but such lovers as could pay well for their entertainment. These were Melinda’s adventures past, and the circumstance in which Monsieur Le Montague found her; he visited her every day, and could not think of leaving London without Melinda. She wisely considering with herself how precarious the way of life she followed was, resolved to marry him, but cunningly delayed, it in order to increase his passion; pretending that she could not marry so soon after the death of her first husband, being but two years a widow, Monsieur Le Montague confessed his design of marrying her to his friend; and though he was much averse to it, yet having no particular
[36] knowledge of her, he could not alledge anything to deter him from it, but his own conjectures. In fine, Monsieur Le Montague in two months time got her consent, and taking his friend along with him, one fatal morning went to her house, from whence she accompanied with her friend and confident Lucinda, went with them to St. Martin’s church, where the knot was tied, and the unfortunate Le Montague sealed his ruin. They returned to her house, where they dined merrily, and Monsieur Le Montague lay that night. In a few days after their marriage, he importuned her to go home with him into the country, which she was no ways averse to; because she feared the visits of her customers, some of whom could not be well denied admittance by reason of their quality and power over her, would discover all to him. He was much pleased at her appearing so ready to comply with his desires; and now they prepared for
[37] going at her request, he consented to give Lucinda the best part of the furniture in the house, which she designed to continue in, and follow the unhappy trade she had so long been versed: though in reality she was much averse to it, and wished from the bottom of her Soul, th at She could meet with some honest man that would marry her; to whom she would be true and virtuous, being no ways addicted to vice, but reduced to it by misfortune and necessity.
And now Melinda thought to go privately to her uncle the captain, to acquaint him with her good fortune, in hopes he would now appear to credit her. She pretended to him great repentance for her past follies, and he gladly received her, visited her husband, and owned her for her niece; sent down word to her parents, who – were over joyed to hear she was reclaimed and so well disposed of. Her mother came to town to see her long lost child. And now
[38] had she had the least spark of virtue; she had been truly happy. Monsieur Le Montague at last carried her home in the stagecoach, having sent her clothes, plate, and what else they thought fit by the wagon, and returned five hundred pounds, which she had called in from the goldfmith’s where she had placed it, by bills to Bristol. They arrived safe, and she was welcomed by all his friends, and treated handsomely. She pretended to be charmed with Harriot his beautiful daughter; and for some months they lived very happily.
You may naturally imagine that a virtuous life and the quiet country were things that did not relish well with a woman who had lived a town life, and enjoyed its pleasuie in the highest luxury. Melinda wanted pleasure, and soon fixed her wanton eyes upon a young sea-captain who used to visit at Monsieur Le Montague’s. This young gentleman had been exchanged with a merchant’s son in France, who
[39] was related to Monsieur Le Montague, and so became intimate with him, and many French captains of ships and merchants. He was very handsome and loved his pleasures, a lover of a fine girl, and a true friend to a bottle; Melinda soon made herself by him, and he as soon fulfilled her desires, and made Monsieur Le Montague the fashionable thing, a cuckold. She grew big with child, and was delivered of a daughter, which Monsieur Le Montague, who had for some time past suspected something of her intrigue with the young captain, who we shall call Du Pre, did not look on this child with the same tenderness as he did on Harriot, for which reason she now beheld Harriot with much indignation and dislike: though she concealed her malice and seemed fond of her. Harriot did all she was able to please her; but now having got a child of her own, Melinda wshcd her out of the world; and her little darling Diana
[40] growing every day more lovely in her eyes, and her husband seeming more reserved to her, and to take little notice of the child. So enraged her, that she resolved to get Harriot out of her way if possible, that Diana might inherit all the fortune. Captain Du Pre went a voyage or two to France and Holland; and returning, when he came back to visit her. She made known her wicked design to him, and in fine, gained him to assist her in it. They contrived to send her beyond sea by some captain of his acquaintance, and he pitched upon a French Master of a ship, who was used to trade to Virginia and the Leward Islands. This captain was of a cruel and avaricious disposition, that he would do anything for money his name Monfieur Le Merchant, Du Pre expected him hourly in that port. Mrs. Le Montague, and her husband, and Harriot, had often gone together on board ships to be treated by merchants and masters, her husband’s
[41] acquaintance, and sometimes, without her husband, with some other friends, and particularly Du Pre. Captain Le Merchant being arrived at Bristol with his ship, which was bound to Virginia, Du Pre acquainted him. with their design on Harriot, and offered him such a bribe as easily prevailed with the covetous Frenchman to undertake to effect it. It was agreed on betwixt them. So Sson as he was ready to sail to give them notice; and now the fatal day was come when the innocent lovely virgin, who was in the thirteenth year of her age, was to be deprived of her dear father and friends, and exposed to all the dangers of the seas, and betrayed into the hands of cruel relentless men. Monsieur Le Montague, the evening that the ship was to sail, which was about two days after they had agreed with the captain in this barbarous and unnatural project, went to take a walk with a neighbouring gentleman. Captain Du Pre came with
[42] the French captain to invite Mrs. Le Montague and Harriot on board; she in obedience to her mother-in-law’s desires, went with her in the captain’‘s boat, little thinking that she should make so long a continuance; and being come on board they were highly treated, and something being put into some wine that was given to Harriot, she was so bereft of her senses, that they put her on the captain’s bed, and left her senseless, whilst they took leave of him and went on shore in a chance boat, which they called pasting by the ship, which weighed anchor and set sail immediately. And now Mrs. Le Montague, as they had contrived. So soon as they were on shore, began to wring her hands and cry like one distraiied, pretending Harriot was drowned : she alarmed all the people as she went along, saying, that she fell over the fide of the boat into the Sea, and no help being near, was drowned: none could contradict her, because no body
[43] tell what boat they came in from the ship; the boat being gone off before she made the out cry. Being come aside, she threw herself upon her bed; and her husband being informed of this news by the laments of the servants at his entering into his house, and going up to her, asking a him, questions of the manner of it; she so rarely acted her part, that he believed she was really grieved and Harriot certainly drowned; which so struck him to the heart, that he was seized with a deep melancholy, and spent most part of his days in his closet shut up from company; and the mornings and evenings walking alone in some retired place, or by the seashore. Melinda, being highly pleased that she had acted her part so well in having got rid of the obstacle that gave her so much disgust, and that her husband took the loss of his Harriot so much at heart, flattered herself that she should soon be a widow, and return to her dear London, and enjoy
[44] the company of her dear Du Pre without molestation. It is necessary that we leave them for the present to inquire after the innocent Harriot, who waking about, midnight, was quite amazed to find herself on a bed no bigger than a couch. Shut up in a nasty filthy closet and hearing the seamens voices, soon discovered the fatal secret, and knew that she was in the ship. She got up, knocked loudly at the cabin door, upon which a young gentleman opened it, a youth of excellent shape and features, in a fine habit; he had a candle in his hand, and seemed to view her with admiration.
‘Lovely maid, (said he) ‘what would you please to have, for I am bound to obey you, and would willingly lose my life in defence of yours?’
‘I beg to know sir, (said she) ‘where my mother and captain Du Pre are, and why I am left here alone?’
He remained silent a moment, and bowing, answered, ‘madam, I am sorry that I must
[45] be so unfortunate as to acquaint you with ill news the first time that I have the honour to speak to you: they are gone ashore, and by what I can learn of the matter sold you to the captain. I am a passenger in this ship, and shall, I hope, be the instrument of your deliverance out of his cruel hands, which I will do or lose my life; I was on shore when you were left here, but having seen you come on board, I made haste back, and finding the ship just under sail, upon my entrance into it ashed where you was. On which he told me with joy, that he had you safe in his cabin, having received a good sum to carry you with us to Virginia. I love you, my dear Harriot (if I may be pemitted to call you so) with the greatest sincerity, and will lose my life in your defence, both to secure your virtue and and your liberty: is not the first time I have seen you.’
At these words he sat down by her, pressed her hand, and kissed her.
[46] her. But what words can express her confusion and grief when she found in what manner she was betrayed by her cruel mother-in-law; she fetched a great sigh and fainted : at which the young gentleman ran and fetched some cordial water from his chest, and gave her; when reviving, she fell into a transport of sorrow, calling to heaven to help and deliver her. She desired to see the captain, and made use of all the entreaties she was mistress of, to return with her; telling him her father would give him treble the sum if he would restore her to him; but the hardened wretch said that he had receiv’d his orders, and was determined they stiould be punctually complied with; the poor undone Harriot, finding nothing would avail, gave way to her sorrow, and refused everything they gave her. Leander, for that was the youth’s name, waited till her passion was a little mitigated, and then began to reason with and comfort her; telling her, she must Submit to the almighty’s will, and
[47] that she should look upon his being in that ship as an earnest of god’s favour to take care of her: that he was in circumstances that rendered him capable of serving her; that his name was Leander, and that his father and hers had been intimate friends, being a merchant who lived at Barbadoes, but had been dead about a twelvemonth, having left him and one daughter in guardians hands, he not being yet of age: that these guardians used him and his sister ill, having put her into a monastery against her will, she being engaged to a young gentleman whom they would not let, her marry, pretending that he was not a suitable match in fortune, and that she was too young, being but fourteen, to dispose of herself; which they did with no other design, as he supposed, but to keep her fortune in their hands as long as they could, in hopes that both he and she might die single, and leave all in their power, being his uncle’s by his fathers side,
[48] and heirs to the fortune which was very considerable, in case they died without issue. That his father having effects to a great value in Virginia in the hands of a gentleman who was brother by his mother’s side, she was likewise dead, he was going to ask this uncle to take possession, and to ask his assistance to deal with his guardians, whom he had left, because he had some reason to fear that they designed to poison him; having been informed, by a trusty servant who had lived with his father, long, and now left in his house at Barbados, that he had over heard them contriving his death; that he had taken with him a good sum of money, and some merchandise to trade with in Virginia. And thus Leander having acquainted Harriot with his circumstances, concluded with many promises to take care of her in the voyage, get her out of the captain’s hands, and would make her his lawful wife when he came to Virginia. She heard him
[49] attentively, and answered with great modesty, that if he did protect her from being injured by others, and acted in delivering her as he pretended, both she and her father, if they lived to meet again, would endeavour to be grateful to him: that she had now resign’d herself to God, and was resolved to submit to what he pleased to permit her to suffer, and to prefer death to dishonour. He embraced her on his knees, and vowed to preserve her virtue, and never suffer her to be wronged or taken from him whilst he had a drop of blood left in his veins, but to merit her favour by all that man could do, which he as nobly performed as freely promised. And now poor Harriot had none but him to comfort her; and tho’ she strove all she was able, yet grief so weakened her, that in a few days she was confined to her bed. ‘Tis needless to relate all that the tender lover did to render himself dear to the mistrest of his heart; he tended and watched with
[50] her many nights. Sat on her bedside, and told the tedious hours, alarmed with every change of her distemper, which was an intermitting fever: he see’d the surgeon largely to save her, and at last had the satisfaction to see her recovering; youth and medicines both uniting, restored the charming maid to health, and Leander to his repose of mind; who now seeing the ship not many leagues from the desired port, flattered himself that she should be his. But, alas, fate had otherwise determined; their faith and virtue was to meet with greater trials yet, and the time was far off before they should be happy. Harriot being now a little used to her new way of life, began to recover; little her drooping spirits, by being continually entertained with the company of Leander, for whom by this time she had no small esteem; they were continually together except when decency required them to be asunder. One evening as they were
[51] both walking the quarterdeck with the captain, treating with him about her ransom, the weather being excessive clear, not a cloud to be Seen, a man at the masthead cried out a sail, which was bearing down to them with full speed, and in half an hour’s time they could perceive that she was a ship of force, which they feared, as it certainly was, a pirate. She came up with them in fortyfive degrees of latitude, bearing English colours, she mounted thirty guns, well manned; and they soon discovered who they were by their firing at them and putting up a bloody stag, bidding them surrender, directly lay to, and poured in a broad-side. The French captain Du Pre, did on this occasion all that a brave man could, nor did Leander fail to show his courage, but fought both for his mistress and liberty till he was wounded in many places, and retiring into the cabin to have his wounds dressed, there he found the affrighted Harriot lying in a swoon on
[52] the floor : at this sight he forgot himself, and catching her up in his arms, fell back with her, and having lost much blood, he fainted; mean time the villain Du Pre was killed on the deck, and the pirates gave a great shout as soon as they saw him fall threw out their graplings, and entering the ship, soon mastered the few that were left to oppose them, and coming into the cabin, saw the fair Harriot and her lover holding her clapsed in his arms, as if resolved in death not to part with her. The pirates, who had taken the ship, being English, French, and Irishmen, belonging to the crew at Madagascar, were moved at this sight; particularly a desperate young man that commanded the pirate ship; he was charmed with the face of the reviving Harriot, who lifting lip her bright eyes ravished his soul; he raised her up in his arms, forcing Leander’s hands to let her go, he being still senseless; she looked upon him with much amazement, but was silent with fear. The
[53] pirate-captain comforted her with tender words, then she fell at his feet, and entreated him to pity her companion, Leander. He presently ordered some wine to be given him, had him laid on the bed, and his wounds dressed; then left her with, him, whilst he gave orders how to dispose of the goods and men that were left alive in the ship, commanding the richest merchandise, some provisions, and the guns and powder in it, to be carried aboard his own ship, and the men and merchant ship to be dismissed with what he thought sufficient to support them till they reached Barbados or Virginia, excepting no person but the fair virgin and her lover. Whilst he saw these things done, and searched the ship, Harriot had time to bewail her state and her lover, who was now so overwhelm’d with grief and pain, that he could scarce utter his thoughts in these moving expressions:
‘My dear Harriot, ‘tis our hard fate to be now
[54] left here alone in the hands of men whose obdurate hearts are insensible to pity from whom we can expect nothing but ill usage, did not your angelick face too well convince me that they will spare your life. Oh! could I find a way to secure your virtue, though, with the loss of my life, I should die with pleasure: but, alas, you must be sacrificed, and I be left the most unhappy wretch on earth, if providence does not prevent it by some miracle or by death. Say, my angel, what can we do?’
Harriot, shedding a flood of tears, replied, ‘My dear preserver, my only hope on earth, all a weak virgin can do to preserve her honour, I will do, and only death shall part us; but let me caution you to say you are my brother, for the pirate captain seems to look on me with some concern; I fear affection: and if so should he discover ours to one another, it might ruin us, and cause the villain to destroy you to posses
[55] me, who being left in his hands when you are gone, shall be forced to what my soul abhors more than death. What, do I say forced? No I never will be, for here is a friend which I will always carry about me (pulling out a dagger) that will defend me from the brutality of a villain that would do such an act of abhorrence. My dear Leander, I will die before I will yield up my virtue.’
Leander, pressing her hand, replied, ‘Alas, there needed only that dreadful thought to end me;’ and so fainted: her shrieks brought the pirate-captain, who was an Irish gentleman, (whose story we shall relate hereafter) down to the cabin door, who seeing her wringing her hands over the pale young man who lay senseless, began to suspect he was her lover, and was fired with jealousy: however, he ran to her, and lifting her up in his arms asked her, who this person was for whom she was so greatly concerned she answered, he was her brother
[56] that they were going from France to Virginia to a rich uncle, having been cheated by their guardians of their fortune in France. And then she fell on her knees, and befought him with tears to land them on that coast, or put them into the next ship he met with bound to that place or near it. Appeased with hearing he was her brother, tho’ doubtful of the truth, he embraced her, and promised to do what she desired; commanding his surgeon and crew to do all that was necessary to save the young man’s life and recover him. Cordials being given him, and his wounds carefully dressed, he got strength daily. Mean time the captain, who was deeply smitten with the lovely Harriot, entertained great suspicions of Leander had them carefully watched to discover whether he was her brother or not, resolving to get rid of him if his rival: but Harriot being on her guard, so well behaved herself, that he could get no satisfaction for some
[57] time. He daily importuned her with his passion for her in Leander’s presence, on whom she was continually attending; and told her. If she would consent to marry him when they come ashore at the island of Providence, which was at that time the pirate’s place of rendezvous, he would make her the richest lady in Christendom, and give her brother a fortune, having such immense treasures buryed there in the earth, of jewels and gold, as would purchase them a retreat, and all things else they could desire in this world. To all these offers she gave little answer, but modestly excused herself from making any promises, saying she was too young to marry yet, and would consider farther of it when they came ashore, yet thanked him for his generous treatment of them. These delays still more inflamed him; he grew every day more earnest and importunate, and often proceeded to kiss her in Leander’s presence, whose
[58] inward grief can hardly be described, which his face often betrayed by turning pale, whilst his enraged soul sparkled in his fiery eyes when he saw his mistress rudely folded in the arms of a villain, who was not worthy to wipe her shoes. One day Harriot, willing to change the discourse of love, begged the pirate captain to inform her who he was, and how he came to follow this unhappy course of life; perhaps, said she, being convinced you are well descended as your gentlemen like treatment of us inclines me to believe, I shall esteem you more. Glad to oblige her, he began the story of his life in this manner.
I was born in Ireland, divine Harriot, of a noble and loyal family, who fighting for King James II were undone; my father fell with honour in the field, our estate was afterwards confiscated, and my poor mother, a lord’s daughter, left with three helpless children, of whom, I was the
[59] eldest, exposed to want. I was then eighteen, and had a soul that could not bear misfortunes, or endure to see my mother’s condition I took my young sister, who was then but ten years old, and fair as an angel, and leaving my mother, and my brother, but an infant, at a relation’s house, who charitably took them in, escaped from my ruined country and friends to France, hoping to get some honourable post there, under that hospitable generous king who had received my prince. When we arrived at St. Germains, having spent what little our kind friends had given us at our first setting out from home, we were received but coldly. My sister, indeed, was by a French lady taken to be a companion for her eldest daughter, something so like a servant, that my soul burned with indignation. I waited long to get preferment, living on charity, that is, eating at other tables. At last I fell in company with some desperate young
[60] gentlemen, who, like me, were tired with this uncertain course of life, some of whom had been bred to sea; we agreed to go separately to Brest, and seize in the night some small vefisel ready vidualled and equipped for a voyage, some of us having first gone aboard as pastengers. This defign we executed, with so good success, that finding a small merchant ship bound for Martinieo, we sent five of our companions, being in all fourteen, as passengers, on board with our trunks of clothes; and pretending to take leave of them, all followed, staying till night, drinking healths with the French captain, who suspected nothing, and had but eight hands aboard of twenty six that belonged to the ship, which was designed to weigh anchor, and set sail, the next day: we seized upon him first, and then on his men, singing so loud that they were not hearei to dispute by the ships, who were lying near us in the harbour; we bound
[61] and put them all under hatches, and set sail immediately, resolving to make for the istand of Jamaica, where we hoped to sell the merchandise we had in the ship, which was laden with, rich goods; and having n>ade our fortunes there, to go for Holland, and settle ourselves as merchants, or look out for some other way to make ourselves easy, and gain some settlement in the world. When we were got to sea, we fetched the captain up, and told him partly our design: : begged, to be Set ashore with his men, at some port of France; pleading he had a wife and seven children, and was undone if we carried him thence im that manner. So we contented to his desire, and at break of day gave him one of the boats, and six of the men to carry him to land, which I suppose he got safely to, having heard nothing more of him.
And now we put out all the sail we could, and had a prosperous voyage, till we came near Jamaica; there.
[62] we met a pirate sloop well-mann’d and armed, carrying French colours we were now most of us sick, and in great want of fresh water and provisions. They gave us a signal to lie by, and we supposing them to be friends, obeyed, joyful to meet a Ihi to assist us: but they Soon made u sensible of our mistake, sending they boat’s crew on board, who seized u and our ship, and carried us all fettered to the istand of Providence where, in short, we grew intimate with these and other pirates, and consented to pursue the same course of life. They did not trust us in on ship together, but dividing us, took us out with them. Ten of us have already lost our lives bravely; three are married, and command ships like me; we have vast treasures, and live like princes on the spoils of others. ‘Tis true, ‘tis no safe employment, so we are continually in danger of death: hanging or drowning are what we are to expect; but we are so daring and
[63] hardened by custom, that we regard it as nothing. For my own part, I am often stung with remorse, and on reflection wish to quit this course of life: I am ashamed to think of the brutish actions I have done, and the innocent blood I have spilled, makes me uneasy, and apprehensive of death.
And now sweet Harriot, I have told you my unhappy story, his in, your power to reclaim and make me happy: promise then to be mine, and I will marry you, and take all the treasure I am master of, and with your brother sail for Virginia; from hence well go to England as passengers. You shall acquaint your uncle that we have been taken by pirate and left on that place; for my ship shall in the night make off, and the boat having landed us, shall return to it; so that we and our wealth shall be left without fear of discovery. Then he addressed himself to Leander, saying, ‘Sir I have treated you, for your sister’s sake kindly and
[64] generously; I expect you should lay your commands upon her to consent to my request: I would not be obliged to use the methods I can take to procure what I now sue for but if I am constrained to use force it will be your own faults.’
At these words he went, out of the cabin much disordered, and left them in great perplexity; a deathlike paleness overspread their faces, and they sat silent for some moments: Then Leander fetching a deep sigh, casting his eyes up to heaven, said, ‘Now my God, manifest thy goodness to us, and deliver us from the hand of this abominable villain that would rob me of life, and my lively Harriot of her virtue.’
Harriot would have spoke, the tears streaming down her pale cheeks, but he stopped her from declaring her sad thoughts, saying, softly, ‘Hush, my angel, we are watched, betray not the fatal secret that will bring death to me, and ruin you.’
They composed their
[65] looks as much as possible; and three days passed, in which the pirate captain grew so importunate with Harriot, that she was forced to declare herself in some manner, and told him she was engaged to a gentleman in France. Finding that his importunities were in vain, he grew enraged, and told her, he was too well acquainted with the reason of her coldness towards him; and since fair means would not do, he would try other methods. At these words Leander started up and seized him by the throat, cried villain it is out of thy power, for thou cannot nor shall not whilst I live; but though Leander was a great deal stronger than the pirate, it was a very imprudent thing, for he was soon overpowered, after having lain three dead at his feet they seized him, put him in irons, and carried him down into the hold. Harriot transported with grief at this dismal sight, threw herself at the pirate’s feet, and told him, ‘’Tis in
[66] vain, cruel man, that you endeavour to force me to consent to your desires, I have a soul that scorns to yield to threats; nay, death shall not fright me into a compliance with your unjust request: I have already given my heart and faith to another, am now resolved never to eat or drink again, till you release my hushand, for such he is by plighted vows and promises, which I will never break: no, I will be equally deaf to prayers and threats; and if you use force, death shall free me. This is my last resolve, do as you please.’
At these words she rose and left him, and sat down with a look so resolute and calm, that his soul shook: he sat down by her, and reasoned with her: ‘Lovely Harriot, said he, why do you force me to be cruel? I love you pashonately, and cannot live without you, nothing should have forced me to this act of barbarity, but my passion for you. Heaven will absolve you from the vows you have made, since you shall break them by necessity, not choice; that sin I I shall be answerable for: my passion makes me as deaf to reason, as you are to pity: I beg you would consider e’er it is too late, and I am drove to use the last extremity to gain you. Your lover’s life is in my power: be kind and he may live, and be happy with some other maid; if you refuse my offers, he shall surely die: I give you this night to resolve; therefore it is in your power to preserve his life or destroy it.’
At these words he left her. Setting a watch at the cabin door, and taking everything from her that could harm her. He went to the quarterdeck, and called for Leander, who was brought up to him loaded with irons, he used threats, entreaties, and all he could think of, to make him consent to part with Harriot, and assist him to gain her; all which he rejected with scorn
[68] and disdain. At last he was so enraged, that he caused Leander to be stripped, and lashed in a cruel manner, who bravely stifled his groans, and would not once complain, lest Harriot should hear him, and be driven to despair. But the pirate’s rage did not end here; he had him carried down and shown to her, the blood running down his tender back and arms; he ordered him to be gaged, that he might not speak to sher: but she, doubtless, inspired with courage from above; supported this dreadful sight with great constancy and calmness, spoke to Leander in these words: ‘ Tis the will of heaven, said she, my dear Leander that we should suffer thus: Be constant, as I will be, God will deliver us by death or miracle.’
The pirate ordered him back to the hold. Some brandy being given him; to drink, which he refused. And now he resolved to gratify his flame, by enjoying Harriot at midnight by force; in
[69] order to which he left her under a guard, and returned not to her till the, dead of night, when, being lain on the bed in her cabin, weeping and praying, almost spent with extreme grief and abstinence, he stole gently to her, having put on Leander’s coat, in hopes to deceive her the more easily; then laying his cheek to hers, he wispered, ‘Charming Harriot, see your glad lover loosened from his chains, flies to your arms.’
She, as one awakened from a horrid dream, trembling, and in suspense, lifted up her eyes amazed, and thought him to be Leander; when he, impatient to accomplish his base design, proceeding to further freedoms beyond modesty, discovered to her the deceit, which she, inspired by her good angel, seemed not to know: but taking the dagger from her bosom which she always kept there, unperceived by any, and stabbed him in the belly so dangerously, that he fell senseless on the bed. At this instant a sailor
[70] cryed out, ‘a sail, a sail; where’s our captain ?’ This alarmed all the crew and the gunner running to the great cabin-door, which the captain had locked when he went in, knocked and called; but only Harriot answered, he was coming. Mean time that ship they had seen coming up, gave them such a broadside, as made the whole crew run to their arms: the bloody fight ensued, and Harriot consulting what to do, believing the pirate captain dead, and being well assured the ship that fought with that she was in, must be some man of war or frigate come in pursuit of the pirates, because she first attacked them, resolved to disguise herself, and go out of the cabin to see the event, hoping the danger they were in would make them free her dear Leander. She catched up a cloak that lay in the cabin, and a hat, and so disguised opened the door; but seeing a horrid sight between the ships crew aud the Spaniards, who had
[71] now boarded her, (for it was a Spanish man of war, who was sent out to scour the pirates in those parts, and having met the French Ship out of which Harriot had been taken, and by them got intelligence of this pirate ship, was come in in pursuit of them) she did not dare to venture farther than the door. Mean time the pirate captain, recovering from his swoon, got up, so wounded and faint with lost of blood, that he could scarce crawl to the door, from which he pushed Harriot, whom he did not at that instant know; he called for help, but seeing the enemy driving his men back upon him. Sword in hand, he endeavoured to take down a cutlass that was near him, and fell down. The pirates feeing their commander fall, were put in the greatest disorder; the Spaniards soon mastered them, having made a dreadful slaughter, putting all to the sword that came in their way, what few that escaped secured themselves
[72] in the hold, until such times their fury was abated; the Spanish captain, who was not only a brave but a most accomplished young gentleman, with some of his officers, entered the great cabioj in which Harriot, and the half dead pirate were: she immediately cast off her disguise, and threw herself at his feet, begging him in the French tongue, to pity and protect her, and a young gentleman whom the pirate had bound in irons, under the hatches, whose life she valued above her own. He gazed upon her with admiration: her beauty and youth were such advocates, as a gallant Spaniard could not refuse anything she asked: he took her up in his arms, promised her all she desired, and commanded the young gentleman should be immediately looked for, and, if living, fet at liberty. Leander had heard the guns and noise, and none but a brave man can be sensible of what he felt, to behold himself lay bound hand and
[73] foot, whilst his mistress’s distress and liberty were disputed, he was ready to tear his limbs off to get free from his fetters; but heaven preserved his life by keeping him thus confined, who else had been exposed to all the dangers of the flight. The Spaniards soon found and freed him, bringing him up to the cabin, where Harriot received him with transport; and the Spanish captain, and his friends, gave him joy of his freedom. The pirate captain, at her entreaty, was taken care of by the surgeon, his wound dressed, and put to bed, being almost; senseless, and in great danger of death. And now a sufficient number of men, with a lieutenant, being left on board the pirate Ship, Leander and Harriot, having all that belonged to them restored by the brave Spaniard, went on board his strip, where they were highly treated, and might in safety bless God, and enjoy some repose.
Once more they were again agree-
[74] ably entertained with each other’ company, when they little expected ever to enjoy that happiness again The Spanish ship was bound for the island of St. Domingo, from whence our lovers hoped to get passage to Virginia, little expecting what changes of fortune they were to meet with in the island they were going to. Then was on board the Spanish ship a young gentleman named Don Carlos, the son of the eovernor of St. Domingo who went, attended by two servants as a volunteer, to show his courage and for pleasure. He was very handsome, and of a daring and impatient temper, ambitious and resolute, though respected by all that knew him, his father’s darling, and, in short, a man who could bear no contradidfion. He was so charmed with Harriot, that he was uneasy when out of her sight: he mustered up all his resolution at first to check his passion, as knowing she was promised to Leander, yet, in spite of all his resolutions it daily increased; [75] he began to hate him as his rival, and meditate how to take her from him. It is the nature of the Spaniards, we all know, to be close and very subtle in their designs, very amorous, and very revengeful: this Cavalier wisely concealed his passion from her, and contrived to get his ends so well, that he effected it without appearing criminal. In their passage to St. Domingo, they met a small French merchant ship bound to Virginia, whose captain was acquainted with the affair: they saluted, and the French captain came on board; where, seeing Leander, he appeared very joyful. ‘Sir, said he, I have a lady on board, who has left France to follow you, the charming madamoiselle Camilla, your guardian’s daughter, who, sensible of the injuries her father had done you, and constant in her affection to you, is a passenger in my ship : I will go fetch her.’
Leander stood like one thunder struck at this news, and [76] Harriot looked upon him with disdain and shame; whilst joy glowed in Don Carlos’s face. And now ‘tis fit that we should know the unfortunate maid’s story, who thus followed him that fled from her.
You have been already informed that this young lady was Leander’s guardian’s daughter, and by consequence his first cousin; they had been bred up together and designed for one another; she was fair, wise and virtuous, but yet could no charm Leander’s heart, though he did her’s; she loved him before she was sensible what love was, and her passion increased with her years: her father, who had his own interest more in view than his daughter’s welfare approved her choice, because it secured the estate to the family; and Leander treated her always with great respect and tenderness as his kinswoman and a lady of great merit, but never made any promises of made any promises of marriage; she was but little younger
[77] than himself, and had refused many advantageous offers, declaring she that she was pre-engaged. She was much concerned at her father’s wicked designs against him, and though she too well perceived he did not love her as a lover ought, which indeed her father hated him for, yet she so doted on him, that she resolved to serve and follow him to death, flattering herself, that since she could not discover he loved any other person, time and her constancy would gain her his affection. When he left France to go for Virginia, she resolved to follow him so soon as she could get an opportunity; in order to which she got what money she could together, and went disguised like a man on board this French shsip, where she made herself known to the captain, having left a letter for her father to acquaint him where she was gone. She soon came a board the Spanish ship, and seeing Leander, who could not possibly recieve her uncivilly, she ran to
[78] him with a transport that too well manifested her affection for him. Are we again met said she, and has Heaven heard my vows? Nothing but death shall separate me from you anymore. Madam, Said he, extremely disordered, I am sorry that you have risked your life and honour so greatly “for a person who is unable to make you the grateful returns you merit; my friendship shall ever speak my gratitude; but here is a lady to whom my faith is engaged. Too constant Camilla, how is my soul divided between love and gratitude? At these words Harriot, who was inflamed with jealousy and distrust, seeing how beautiful her rival was, and reflecting that they had been long acquainted and bred up together, that it was his interest to marry the French lady, addressed herself to Camilla in this manner, ‘Madam, your plea and title to Leander’s heart is of much older date than mine; ‘tis fit he should be your’s; and that I may convince
[79] you that my soul is generous and noble, I will save him the confusion of making apologies to me, and resign my right in him.’
Leander would have spoken, but Harriot interrupted him with the following words, ‘Yes, base, ungenerous Leander, who have deceived me, return to your duty, I will no more listen to your oaths and vows, leave me to the providence of God; I wish no other favour of you and this lady, but to astist me to get a passage home to England.’
Leander was so confounded, he knew not what to do; he strove all he could to convince Harriot of his sincerity, and at the same time was found to speak in such a manner, not quite to drive a lady to despair for whom he had a tender regard. Camilla, too sensible that he did not love her, and distracted to see her rival so adored, and herself so slighted and exposed, did all she was able to augment her rival’s uneafiness; and now Leander
[80] was so watched and teased by both, that he was near distracted; he desired to go into the French ship with the two ladies to go for Virginia, but Don Carlos secretly opposed it, resolving to take Harriot from him; in order to which he got the Spanish captain to get Leander to go on board the French ship to be merry. Leander entertained not the least suspicion of its being a contrivance, readily went, leaving the two ladies setting together in the great cabin. Some time after, the Spanish captain, stepping out of the room, goes into his boat, and returning to his own ship, whispers Camilla, whom Don Carlos and he had acquainted with their design, who willingly agreed to rid herself of her rival, to go on board the French ship immediately, which she did. In the mean time Leander, missing the captain, asked for him, and was told he was gone to his own ship, at which he was surprised; but when he saw the boat come back with one
[81] woman only, his colour changed, and knowing Camilla when she came nearer, he began to some treachery; he gave her his hand to come into the ship. Saying, where is Harriot, why did you not bring her with you, what is the reason that you are come alone? I have brought your trunks and things, said she; she is coming, on board when the boat returns. Whilst they were talking the boat made off, the trunks being handed up. He then too plainly discovered the stratagem, he stormed like a madman, calling for the trench captain’s boat: mean time the Spanish ship made off with all her sails, being a ship of war and a good sailor; the little merchant ship, which was heavy loaden, could not pretend to overtake hen. Having thus lost the divine Harriot, whom he loved as much as man could love, he lost all patience, reproaching Camilla in the most cruel terms, nay even cursing her as the cause of his ruin and death; she endeavoured to
[82] appease him with all the tender soft: expressions imaginable, pretending, that she was innocent and knew nothing of the Spaniard’s design; and in return vented her reproaches against him in the following words.
‘Ah! cruel Leander, (Said she), do not repay my affection with such in kind treatment; have I not followed you, left my native country, and all that was dear to me, exposing myself to all the dangers of the seas and various sicknesses incident to change of climate: in fine, what I have left undone to merit your esteem? Are these the returns you make me? Must a stranger rob me of yonr heart? Consider what this usuage may reduce me to do: if fate to punish you, has taken her from you, must I bear the blame? ’Tis just heaven, that in. pity to my sufferings decrees your separation; and if you cannot love me, yet ’tis the least you can do to use me civilly and send me back to
[83] my home, that I may retire to some convent, and spend my unhappy life in prayers for you, for I will pray for and love you to death.’
at these words she fainted, and fell down at his feet. Leander, touched with this moving sight, almost forgot his own griefs, and laying her on his bed in his cabin, revived her with wine and cordials; and seeing her open her eyes, he took her kindly by the hand, saying, ‘Charming Camilla, forgive me the rash expressions I have used: urged by my despair I knew not what I did or said; I own the obligation I have to you, and have all the grateful sense of it that you can wish; you are dear to me as the ties of blood and friendship can make you, and though fate has permitted me to give my heart to another, yet you shall ever be the next to her in my esteem.’ These tender speeches, many others of the same kind, in some sort comforted the afflicted Camilla who con-
[84] cluded in herself that she should in time, having got rid of her rival, get his, affection; in order to which she behaved herself so towards him, and treated him with such respect and tenderness, that he was obliged to conceal his grief for Harriot’s loss, and appear tolerably satisfied: yet he was almost distracted in reality, and determined to go in search of her so soon as he could get ashore at Virginia, and find a ship to carry him to the island of St. Domingo, to which he knew the Spanish ship was hound, designing to leave Camilla with his uncle. Thus resolved he seemed pacified, and in a few days they got into the desired port, and were received by his uncle with much joy; who promised, upon hearing his nephew’s story, to assist him in all he was able, to oblige his guardians in France to do him and his sister justice. And now Leander’s whole business was to get a bark to carry him to theisland where he supposed his mistress,
[85] to be; but the inward grief of his mind, and the constraint he had put upon himself, had so impaired his health, that he fell sick of a fever, which brought him so low that he was ten months before he was able to go out of his chamber, his illness being much increased by the vexation, of his mind; all which time Camilla waited on and attended him with such extraordinary care and tenderness, that she much injured her own constitution, and fell into a consumption, at which Leander was much concerned. In this time he contracted, a great friendship with a young gentleman, his uncle’s only son, a young man of extraordinary parts and goodness, handsome and ingenious; his name was Lewis Dumaresq, which was the name of Leander’s mother’s family: he was about twenty-two years old, and had travelled most parts of Europe. To him Leander made known all his secret thoughts, and design of going to St. Domingo in
[86] search of Harriot, offered to accompany him thither, and to assist him in all he was able. Here we must leave Leander to recover his health, and relate what befell Harriot, who was in Don Carlos’s hands and power. As soon as Harriot found the ship under sail, and discovered that she was betrayed and robbed of her dear Leander, she retired to her cabin cast herself on her bed, and abandoned herself to grief. ‘ My God, said she, lifting up her delicate hand and watery eyes, ‘for what am I reserved? What farther misfortune must I suffer? No sooner did thy Providence provide me a friend to comfort me in my distress, and delivered me out of the merciless hands of pirates, but it has again exposed me helpless and alone to strangers. Men who are more violent and revengeful in their nature than any I have yet met withal. Perhaps poor Leander is already drowned in the merciless sea by the
[87] cruel Carlos, to whom, unless thy goodness again delivers me, I must be a sacrifice.’
Whilst she was thus expostulating with heaven, the amorous Spaniard came to her cabin door, and gently opening it. Sat down on the bed by her, and seeing her drowned in tears, was for some moments silent; at last, taking her hand he kissed it passionately, and said, ‘Too charming lovely maid, why do you thus abandon yourself to passion? Give me leave to convince you that you have no just cause of grief, and that I have done nothing base or dishonourable; your lover had ungratefully left a lady to whom he had been engaged from his infancy, one who highly deserved his esteem, and so loved him that you see she has ventured her life and fame to follow him: to you he was a stranger, and being false to her he had known fo long, you have all the reason in the world to doubt his constancy to you. Your
[88] rival had resolved to rid herself of you, and you were hourly in danger of death whilst she was with you. Believe me, Harriot, the fear of losing you, whom my soul adores, made me take such measures to secure your life and restore to the lady her faithless lover. I am disengaged, and have a fortune worthy of your acceptance. This day, this hour, if you’ll consent, I’ll marry you to secure you from all fears of being ruined or abandoned by me; and till you permit me to be happy, I’ll guard and wait on you with such respect and assiduity, that you shall be at last constrained to own that I do merit to be loved, and with that lovely mouth confirm me happy.’
She answered him with reserve, wisely considering in her that if she treated him with too much rigour, he might be provoked to other means to gratify his passion; that dhe was wholly in his power, and
[89] unnable to deliver herself out of his hands. In fine, some days passed, in which she was so altered with grief, that her lover was under great concern, he treated her with all the gallantry and tender regard that a man could use to gain a lady’s heart; he let nothing be wanting, but presented her with wines, sweetmeats, and everything the ship afforded, offering her gold and rings, and at length perceived that she grew more cheerful and obliging, at which he was even transported. The weather had till now been very favourable, but as they were sailing near the Summer-Islands, a dreadful storm or hurricane arose, and drove them with such fury for a day and a night, that the ship at last struck against one of the smallest of them, and stuck so fast on the shore that they could not get her off, which obliged them to get the boats out and lighten the ship of the guns and heaviest things, in doing which they discovered that the ship had sprung a
[90] leak; this made them under a northeast ceility of staying on this island for some days to repair the damage. The captain, Harriot, Don Carlos, and all the ship’s crew went on shore; they found it was one of those islands that was uninhabited, so they resolved to go from thence as soon as they could to Bermudas; but Providence had decreed their stay there for some time. The time they landed was about midnight, the sky darkened extremely, and such a storm of lightning and thunder followed, that the ship took fire, and was consumed with all that was left in it; the affrighted Harriot, who had no other covering to defend her but the tents they had made of the tarpaulins and sails, now thought her misfortunes and life were at an end; her lover and all the rest recommended themselves to God, not expecting to survive that dreadful night. Some of the ship’s crew venturing to look out after the ship, were lost, being, blown into the sea, and the morning
[91] showed the dismal prospect: of their flaming ship, which lay burning on the shore almost entirely consumed. All the hope they now had left, was, that some boats or barks would come to their relief from the adjacent islands. The storm being over towards evening, after taken some refreshment of what provisions and drink they had left, which they had brought on shore, they ventured to walk about the island, on which was plenty of fowl and trees. Don Carlos leading Harriot, they wandered to a place where they saw some trees growing very close together, in the midst of which they perceived a sort of hut or cottage made of a few boards and branches of trees, and coming up to it saw a door standing open made of a hurdle of canes; and concluding this place was inhabited by somebody, curiosity induced them to look into it. There, stretched on an old mattress, lay a man who appeared to be of a middle age, pale as death.
[92] death, and so meagre and motionless, that they doubted whether he was living or dead, his habit was all torn and ragged, yet there appeared something so lovely and majestic in his even dying, look, that it nearly touched their souls Don Carlos going into this poor hut, took him by the hand, and finding he was not dead, spoke to him, asking if he could rise: and eat, who he was, and other questions, to all which he made no answer, but looked earnestly upon him. Mean time Harriot ran and fetched a bottle of rum, returning with such incredible speed, that only that ardent charity that inflamed her generous soul could have enabled her to do; Don Carlos poured some of this rum into his mouth, but it was some time before the poor creature could swallow it; at last he seemed a little revived. Said in, French, God preserve you who have relieved me; he could say no more, but fainted: Don Carlos, repeating his charitable office,
[93] gave him more rum, whilst Harriot fetched some bread and meat; he swallowed a mouthful or two, but could eat no more. By this time the captain and other officers came up, and and were equally surprised at so sad an object; two of the seamen were ordered to stay with him that night; and the next morning Harriot and the rest returned to visit him, impatient to know who he was, and how he came in that condition. He was come a little to himself, and received them in so courtly a manner, though he was unable to rise up upon his feet, his weakness was so great, that they concluded he was some man of quality; and after some civilities had passed, Don Carlos begged to know who he was I will, said he, if I am able, oblige you with the recital of a story so full of wonders, that it will merit a place in your memories all the days of your lives; you seem to be gentlemen, and that young lady’s curiosity shall be gratified. Don
[94] Carlos bowing. Seated Harriot and himself on the ground by him, the captain and the rest stood before the cottage door, and the stranger having taken a piece of biscuit and a glass of wine, being very faint, began the narrative of his life in the following manner.
‘I was born in France at St. Maloes, my father was a rich merchant in that place, his name was Le Montague, I was the youngest of two ^ sons which he had, and being grown up to man’s estate, my father was mightly solicitous to see me disposed of advantageously, hoping should marry such a fortune as might provide for me without lessing his own. So that my elder brother might be advanced to a title which he designed to purchase for him, or some great employ. This he was continually sounding in my ears. But, alas, my soul was averse to his commands, for I had already engaged my affections to a young
[95] lady whom I had unfortunately seen when I was but fifteen, at a monastery to which I had been sent by my father, to see a kinswoman who was a professed nun there; visiting I saw this fair young pensioner, who was then about fifteen years old; she was beautiful as an angel, and I found her conversation as charming as her face; her name was Clementina; and the monastery being at a village not above ten miles distant from St. Maloes, I used secretly to visit her at least once or twice a week. So that I got her promise to marry me so soon as I was settled in the world. She told me she was the only daughter of an old widow lady who lived fifty miles distant, was extreme rich, and had placed her there, because the abbess was her mother’s sister; that her fortune was left her at her mother’s ^ disposal. This was her circumstance which obliged me, being a younger brother, to defer marrying
[96] her till I had got some way of providing for her, that I might venture to take her without asking our parents consent: this delay was our undoing; for when I was twenty, an old widow lady came to my father’s on some money affairs, and was lodged at our house, where she took such a fancy to me, that she boldly solicited my father to lay his commands upon me to marry her, which offer he readily accepted; and having laid all that advantages of this rich match before me, concluded with the strictest injunctions to marry her forthwith. I pleaded in vain that I was pre-engaged to another. He told me in a rage, I must take mv choice, either to content or go out of his doors immediately protesting he would never give me a groat, and disown me if I was disobedient to his commands. But when I proceeded in the humble manner to make known who
[97] the person was to whom I was pre-engaged. Good heaven! how was I surprised to find it was this lady’s daughter? And now the fatal secret being known, Clementina was in a few days removed out of my sight and knowledge, being taken away from the monastery, and sent I know not whither. Some months past in which I busied myself in making inquiry after her, but all in vain; at last, quite wearied out with my father’s threats and the widow’s importunities, I consented to be wretched, and married her, whom in my soul I loathed and hated; nor had I done it, but in hopes to get to the knowledge of the place where my dear Clementina was concealed from me, resolving never to consummate my marriage with her mother: which way of proceedings so enraged her, that we lived at continual variance: yet shame withheld her from declaring this secret to the world; together
[98] with spite, because she would continue to plague me by ‘ living with me. At last, by the means of one of the servants, whom I bribed, (having now all her fortune at command, which I took care to manage so well, that I laid by a great sum of money to provide for me and Clementina, with whom I resolved to fly from France so soon as I could find her) I got knowledge that she was locked up in a convent near Calais; on which I converted all my money secretly into gold and bills of exchange, resolving to set out for England with her so soon as we could get off, having there an uncle at Bristol, my father’s brother.’
At these words Harriot looked earnestly upon him. Surprised to find he was her cousin-german. But he continued his discourse thus: ‘But now I was in a great dilemma how to get to the Speech of her to inform her of my design, as likewise how to get away
[99] away from my wife, who was continually hanging upon me, and following of me, fearing she should discover whither I was going, being certain she would remove Clementina from the convent. I therefore picked a quarrel one evening with my wife about a trifle on purpose, and the next morning took horse by break of day, attended with only one servant in whom I could confide, and set out for St. Malos, were being arrived, I hired a vessel to carry me to Calais, fearing to be followed if I had gone by land; the wind was contrary for some days, so that my revengeful wife had time to send for Clementina from the convent. At my arrival there, I had the mortification to find her gone, but none could, or indeed would, inform me whither she was carried; this so exasperated me against my wife, that I resolved not to return home any more : So I went directly to my father’s
[100] and staid there a month, pretending business with some masters of ships that were expected to come into that port. Mean time my wife got intelligence where I was, and came to me: I received her civilly before my father; but at night, when we were in bed, we fell into a warm dispute, which ended in a resolution on my fide to leave her for ever, with which I acquainted her; but then she fell to entreaties, and in the softest terms laid before me my ingratitude to her, and how wicked my design was upon her daughter; pleading, that as she was my wife, she had all the reason in the world to keep me from the conversation of a person whom I loved better than herself; that she had made me master of a plentiful fortune, and concealed from the world the high affront I had put upon her, in refusing to perform the duties of a husband to her. To all which I answered, That as for the
[101] ceremony of our marriage, I looked upon it as nothing, since I was compelled to it; that I had denied myself all converse with her as a wife, because I would not commit a sin, by breaking my solemn vows and engagements with her daughter, whom I had made choice of before I saw her; and since there was no other way left to free me, I resolved to declare all to the world, and annul our marriage, and restore what money and estate I had remaining in my hands to her. At these words she flew into a violent passion. Well then (said said) since you will thus expose me, I’ll do myself this justice, to remove Clementina from your sight for ever; be astured you shall never see her more in this world. She that moment leapt out of bed, called for her servant, and put on her clothes; and though I used many entreaties to deter her, nay proceeded to threats, yet she persisted in her
[102] ‘resolution, and going down to my father, acquainted him with all that had passed between us, desiring him to prevent me from following her, which he, being highly incensed against me, too well performed: for he came up to my chamber, where I was dressing in order to follow her, but he kept me there in discourse whilst she took coach and was gone I knew not whither, nor could I for some days hear any news of her. Mean time my father and brother continually persecuted me on her account, bidding me go home and live like a Christian; nay they employed several priests and the bishop of the place to talk to me. So that I was now looked on with much distike; and being weary of this schooling, I set out for home, where I found my wife sick, which indeed so touched me, that I repented of having used her so unkindly, and resolved to treat her more respecfully
[103] for the time to come. A whole year past, all which time she languished of a lingering fever and inward decay, grief having doubtless seized her spirits. I used her with as much tenderness as if I had been her son; we never bedded together, but kept two apartments. In fine, she died, and on her deathbed, some hours before she expired, took me by the hand as I sat on her bedside, and said these words to me, which are still fresh in my memory; Mr. Le Montague, I am now going to leave you, and I hope to be at rest; I have loved you as tenderly and passionately as ever wife did a husband; and though I committed a great folly in marrying a person who was so much younger than myself, and pre-engaged, yet no vicious inclinations induced me to it, as my behaviour to you since must convince you. I flatter myself, that gratitude and my behaviour towards you, would have
[104] gained your love, but was deceived. I have never been to blame in all my conduct towards you, but to my child I have been cruel and unkind; for fearing a criminal conversation between you if you came together, I used all my endeavours to keep you asunder, and finding that even the convents could not secure her, provoked by your ill usage, at last I resolved to send her out of France, which I effected by means of a captain of a ship which was bound to Canada; who took her with him with a sum of money, promising to see her there disposed of in marriage to some merchant or officer in those parts, which we doubted not but she would readily consent to, finding herself among strangers, and bereft of all hopes of seeing you any more. I have never heard of her since. This action I heartily repent of, and to expiate my fault, I shall leave you all my fortune, with a
[105] strict injunction, as you hope for everlasting happiness hereaster, to go in search of her, and employ it in endeavouring to find her; and if she be married give her part to make her happy: and may that God, whose merciful forgiveness and pardon I now implore, direct and prosper you, and bring you safe together, if she be yet single. I can do no more, but ask you to accept of this my last action as an atonement for all the trouble I have occasioned you, and not hate my memory. I was so struck with hearing Clementina was sent so far off and so disarmed of my resentments by the sight of my wife’s condition, who was now struggling with death, that the tears poured down my face, and my soul was so oppressed, that I swooned; which so disturbed her, that her confessor, who was present at this discourse, ordered me to be carried out of the room.’
Here he seemed faint, and
[106] Don Carlos gave him some wine; after which he continued his relation in this manner. ‘Recovering from my swoon, I soon discovered by the outcries and lamentations of the servants that my wife was dead. I behaved myself with all the decency and prudence I was able on this occasion, and buried her suitable to her birth and fortune; after which I thought of nothing but my voyage to Canada, having informed myself of the ship and captain’s name, who carried away Clementina; which was not returned, or expected back to France in three years, being gone a trading voyage for some merchants at Dieppe. I left my father to take care of the estate, who sent my brother to reside there; made my will and having provided myself with money, bills of exchange, and all other necessaries, I went aboard a merchant ship called the Venturous, bound for those parts to trade, not doubting but that
[107] we should meet with the captaian there who had conveyed Clementina thither, and then there was no question but I should make him confess where he had left her. We had a prosperous voyage for some weeks, but coming near Newfoundland, we unfortunately met a pirate ship, who boarded and took us after a fierce dispute which lasted three hours, in which our ship was so shattered, that she sunk as they were rifling her; in which accident several of the pirates perished, and all the paftengers and sailors belong to our ship, except my unfortunate self and Surgeon, who were taken up by ropes into the pirateship, where we were put in irons into the hold, I suppose because they were in an ill humour at the loss of their companions and the ship. Some days past before we had the favour of being brought up the deck, and our irons taken off. We were both very sick,
[108] as for my part, I was so afflidfed at being prevented from going my intended voyage, that I was careless of what became of me. There was amongst the pirates some that looked like gentlemen, but they all talked and behaved themselves like desperate villains, oaths and curses were as common as in a gaming ‘ house, they drank like Germans, and discoursed like atheists, and libertines; they asked us many questions, who and what we were, to all which we answered cautiously. I told them, if they would set me on any shore thereabouts, from whence I might travel by land, or get shipping to Canada, I would promise if I lived to return to France, to remit a thousand pistoles to any part of the world, or person they should name; they took little notice of my offers, but let us have the liberty of walking in the daytime on the decks, and at night they put us under hatches.
[109] At last we arrived at the island of Providence, where they were received by their companions with much joy. We remained in this wretched place ten whole months in which time they used us like slaves, with many others whom they could not prevail with to take up their desperate manner of living. At last, wearied with this way of life, we desired to go out in one of their ships, desiring them to treat us as she should deserve by our bravery and good behaviour: they contented; and now all my hopes were that I should meet a welcome death to free me from the misery of life, or find some way to escape from them. There were beside myself and friend, six gentlemen, three of whom were Spaniards, and the other three English, who, like us, went with them thro’ necessity; the ship was a frigate of 30 guns, and carried 140 hands: they designed to cruise near the
[110] Havanna, in hopes to catch some of the Spanish ships coming out thence; as we lay cruizing at some distance, a dreadful storm arose, which at last tore our ship in pieces near this island where we now are; every man was obliged to shift for himself; I catched hold of a plank, floating on which, it pleased Providence to cause the winds and waves to cast me on this place much bruised; here I have been three weeks.mI made this hut with some old planks and what I found on the shore, to secure me from the cold and storms; this old mattress and coat I also found; all my food has been the eggs of sea fowls and birds, which I have daily gathered up on the sands and in holes in the rocks and hollow trees; but the anguish of my mind, with the bruises I recieved in my stomach in the ship had at last reduced me to such weakness, that I could no longer rise on my feet to seek for food;
[111] and when divine Providence brought you here to my relief, I had been three whole days without tasting any sustenance, and had by this been freed from my miseries.’ Then he fetched a deep sigh, concluding his story with these words: ‘Yet I am in duty bound to thank God and you, and hope, since he has prolonged my stay on earth a little longer, that he will make life supportable, by furnishing me with means to find her out, without whom I must be ever wretched.’
As soon as the unfortunate Le Montague had made an end of his story, the compassionate Harriot, touched to the heart with the misfortunes of her cousin which so equalled her own, acquainted him who she was, and in few words of the manner of her coming to that place; at which he was filled with admiration: but he was so amazed when he heard that Leander and Camilla had left France in such a manner, that he could scarce.
[112] credit it, they being his intimate friends; yet she in the relation made no mention of Don Carlos’s treachery or Leander’s love to her. Saying only he was gone to Virginia in a French ship. The conversation now turning to be general, - every person spoke their sentiments of Le Montague’s adventures; some days pasted with much anxiety, provisions were husbanded, and their fears of wanting daily increased; Le Montague soon mended, and company rendered their solitary way of living in this desolate place more supportable; they were hourly in expectation of feeing some ship pass by to the adjacent islands, having placed a white cloth on the top of a stick on the most eminent part of the island, to give notice of their distress: thus they spent three whole weeks, in which time most of the victuals they had saved were, spent, the dreadful apprehensions of famine appeared in every face, and every one walked about looking
[113] what they could find to eat, in hopes to satisfy nature without diminishing the small stock of provisions they had left. Don Carlos, who was one of the most vigilant in searching out something to give Harriot fit for her to eat, went one morning to the farthest part of the island, which was about seven miles over, and there ascending a high rock, stood looking on the sea, and perceived a boat fastened in, a little cliff of the rock, out of which cliff a black came, and launching out the boat, put off to sea, making towards another island. Don Carlos concluded this person lived somewhere in this rock, and resolved to search about it in hopes to discover some persons there, by whom he might be assisted and his friends, to get from this dismal island, or at least to wait the man’s return, or find out his abode, in order to return thither that evening. He found it very dangerous to descend on that side of the rock next the sea, and was long e’er
[114] he could find the place out of which he saw the man come forth; but at last he perceived a sort of a door, which seemed to shut in a place that was the entrance of a cavern in the rock : but it was fast locked, and he could not discern through the keyhole anything but a glimmering light, yet he heard a human voice like a woman’s, talking to a child, but he understood but little of it, because it was a language he could not speak much of, being English; he waited some hours, and finding the man did not return, he went away, and hastened to Harriot with the glad tidings that he had found a boat, and persons on the island. Both she and the whole company were agreeably surprised with this news; and the captain, Monsieur Le Montague; Don Carlos, and Harriot, all resolved to make their evening’s walk to this place.
In the morning Harriot and the rest walked to the rock in the evening, and getting up to the top of it, saw from
[115] thence the black man standing at the entrance of his cave, with a white woman who seemed to be very young and very handsome; she had a Malotta child in her arms about a year old, her gown and petticoat was made of a fine silk. Don Carlos called to them in French, at which the man looked up; and Harriot spoke in English to the woman, desiring her to come up and speak to her; on which the blackamoor pushed the woman in, and returning no answer, shut the door upon himself and her. Don Carlos and the rest concluded that they feared being discovered; so they all descended the rock and went, to the door, resolving to force it open if they could not gain entrance otherwise, and remove tneir fears by Speaking gently to them, and acquainting them with their distress. They knocked and called at the door for some time; but hearing a noise within, and no answer, they broke open the door with much difficulty, and entering,
[116] went through a narrow passage in the rocks, so strait that but one person could go abreast; at the end of which they came into some strange rooms fashioned by nature, though cleansed of moss and loose stones by labour: into these, light entered by the holes that were in some places open through the top of the rocks; but some part of the caves, or caverns, for they were scarce fit to be called rooms, were very dark. In the biggest room was a lamp burning, and here they saw two chests locked, and, bn a shelf some platters and bowls made of calibash-shells, with two or three wooden spits; and some sticks were burning in a corner of the room, in a place made with stones piled round, and opening in the front like a furnace, on which stood a pot, wherein something was boiling. There likewise hung up some fishing tackle and a gun with a powder horn, as also a bow with a quiver of arrows. In a place which was shut with a door,
[117] like a cupboard, stood bread and flower, and on the table (for there was a very odd one, and stools, which which seemed to be of the negro’s making) stood a basket with some clean linen for a child, and some canvas cut out for slaves jackets and drawers. In another room they saw a quilt and coverlids lying on some rushes on the floor; but they could find no living creature, at which they were much amazed. They called, and spoke in the softest terms, desiring them to come forth, if hid there, promising to do them no harm; but in vain. At last they heard a child cry, and following the sound of the voice, went through a narrow turning on she right hand, which brought them to a place where a door was shut, before which lay a terrible bear : Don Carlos, who was the foremost, carrying the lamp in one hand, and his sword in she other, being presently more apprehensive of harriot’s danger than his own; she
[118] being next behind him, ran at the bear, designing to kill it, if possible, before it could rise; but was stopped by the sound of a human voice which came from that beast, saying, ‘For heaven’s sake, spare my life, and I’ll do all you’ll have me.’ At these words the negro came out of the bear’s skin, and threw himsel sat Don carlos’s feet, who took him up; and Harriot bid him fear nothing, they being persons in distress, that wanted bis assistance, and would pay him nobly for serving them. Then he opened the door he had lain before in the beast’s skin, and brought forth the young woman and child, whom Harriot embraced, whilst the poor creature wept for joy to see a Christian white woman. Now they were all cheerful, and the negro being told, that they wanted his assistance, to carry one of them to any of the adjacent issands that was inhabited to get them some provisions, and hire a vessel to carry them to the island of St. Domingo,
[119] he readily promised to do it: ‘My boat, says he, will carry no great weight, being a small canoe which I made myself; but it will carry me and one more, with some small quantity of provisions. They were all impatient to know how this beautiful woman and black man came to this place; which they found she seemed not willing to declare whilst the negro was present; and therefore Harriot begged that she might accompany her whilst, he brought the boat round to the other fide of the istand, to take in one of the sailors; not thinking it safe to trust Don Carlos, or one of the gentlemen with him in so slight a vessel. This the negro did not seem to be pleased withal, but yet dared not refuse it. He used to drag his boat up out of the water into a cleft, where it was impossible to be seen. And now the transported woman, with her tauny child, accompanied Harriot to her tent, and
[120] in the way recounted her sad story in these words:
‘My name is Leonora: I am the daughter of a planter in Virginia, who has a great plantation there, is extremely rich; and having no more daughters than myself, bred me up in the best manner, sending me to England for education, from whence I returned at thirteen years old. I was courted by several, and by one in particular whom I liked, and my father did not disapprove of; but it was my unhappy fate to be miserably disappointed of all my hopes. Amongst a great many negro slaves whom my father had to work in our plantation, he you saw was one, who appearing to be bred above the rest, and more capable of being serviceable in the house, was taken into it. He was about twenty years old, handsome and witty, could read and write, having (as he pretends) been a prince in his own country and taught several
[121] languages and arts by a Romish priest, who was cast ashore at Angola, from whence he came. He behaved himself so well, that he gained my father’s favour, and used often to wait on me when I walked out in an evening or rid out, running by my horse’s side; in short, he was ever ready to do me service. We had a pleasure boat, having a city house at Jamestown; when I was there, I used often, with my companions, to go on the water in the evenings for pleasure, and then he used to steer the boat. He made himself the little boat you sawhere, on pretence to go out a fishing for me, which much pleased my father, the fashion and usefulness of it being extraordiny for it fails swift, and bears a rough sea beyond anything we had ever seen. He used to catch fish very dexterously, as he did everything he went about: he could paint, understood navigation, the mathematics;
[122] and, in short, was so beloved by my father, that he would have freed him, had he not feared losing of him. And now Domingo, for that is his name, became enamoured with me, and lift up his aspiring eyes to my unhappy face: his passion increased with time, and at last, he resolved to possess me, or die in the attempt. Had he but once given me the least intimation of his passion, I should have acquainted my father with his insolence, and his death would have prevented my ruin : but this he knew, and therefore so well kept the secret to himself, that no body suspected it. He had taken care to provide some bread and money, by selling some tobacco, and little mathematical instruments and pictures he had made; my father, having given him a little piece of ground to plant, to buy him linen, allowing him to go finer dressed than other slaves. He permitted him, when we went to the town, to sell trifles that he made.
[123] In fine, he waited only an opportunity to get me into his little boat, which he thus effected: one evening, the sea being very calm, he sat in the boat a fishing, having hid the bread and money in it; I walking down with my maid, to see what he had caught for my supper, he persuaded me to step into the boat, and sit down.
‘Now, Madam (said he) ‘you shall see sport.’ He was pulling in a little net; I sat down, and the maid stood on the shore. He, in dragging the net, loosed the boat from the shore, which beginning to drive out to sea, surpriz’d me; but he bad me sit still, and fear nothing I sat very patient for some time, till at last seeing him hoist the sail, and go farther from land, I began to be frightened; he pretended to be so too, and persuaded me he could not help it, that the wind and stream drove the boat against his will. He pulled a little compass out of his pocket, by
[124] which he steer’d. We were two nights and days thus sailing, in which time we pass’d by some ifiands, on which he pretended he could not land, because, as I since discover’d, he knew they were inhabited, and had besore mark’d out this desolate place to carry me to. At last he brought me hither half dead with the fright, and faint, having eat only a little of the bread, and drank out of the bottle of wine which he had in the boat, in which he had put his tools for making mathematical instruments, and colours for painting. When we were landed, he seemed mighty solicitous where to find a place for me to lie down, and food for me; and brought me into the cavern in the rock: there being seated on his jacket, on the ground, we eat what fish he had in the boat, broiled on a fire he made with sticks, having a tinder bjox in his pocket. After we had eat he told me his design.
‘My dear
[125] lady. Said he, I love you to madness and was resolved to possess you or die: though my outside is black, and distasteful, I fear, to your eyes, yet my soul is as noble and lovely as your own. I was born a prince, and free; and tho’ chance made me a stave, and the barbarous Christians bought and sold me, yet my mind they never could subdue. I adore you, and have long designed what I have now effected. No human creature dwells here besides ourselves, and from this place you never must expect to return.’
Here he proceeded to kiss me, my distraction was such, that I swooned; he took the advantage of those unhappy minutes, when I was unable to resist; and, in fine, has kept me here two whole years, maintaining me by carrying what he makes to the adjacent islands; where he sells his ingenious work to the inhabitants, and brings back provisions and clothes for us:
[126] from thence he brought all you see in our miserable habitation; and to employ me, he brings work from these people. I make clothes for the slaves, and by this means, and his, fishing and shooting, we have food enough. I had a pearl necklace, and some rings in my ears, and on my fingers, of value, when he brought me here; which he sold, and traded with the money. I have had but this child by him, which he dotes on. He is a Christian, and would gladly marry me, he is so jealous, that whenever he discovers anybody landed on the island, he always locks me up, if he goes out; he lives in continual fear, lest my father should make any discovery where we are, and send some to take me from him; in case of which I believe he would certainly kill me. He told me of your being here some days since, and warned me not to venture forth; which indeed I longed to do, in hopes to
[127] meet with somebody to converse with, being weary of living such a solitary miserable life. When he found you were resolved to enter our being, which he thought secure, he put me into the room you saw me in, and placed himself before it in the bear’s skin; a stratagem he had invented long before, supposing no body would venture to search farther, when they saw so terrible a creature in so dismal a place. He had stuffed the legs, feet and head of the beast; so that placing himself in the belly of it, it appeared alive, espccially in so dark a place. The two large chests you saw, he found on the shore some months since, in which there are much rich clothes, linen and treasure, the spoils of some unhappy ship that was doutless shipwrecked on this coast. ‘ And now I hare acquainted you with all my unhappy story, and must implore your astistance to
[128] persuade Domingo to leave, this place, and take us with you, or else help me to escape from him; though I would now willingly consent to be his wife, having treasure sufficient to purchase us a good settlement in any place. If he be ever found by anybody from Virginia, my father will surely put him to death, but Domingo will kill me first; and to live thus is worse than death.’
Here she wept, and Harriot embracing her, promised never to part with her. ‘ No, my dear ‘ Leonora, said she, we will part no more; Domingo shall be carried hence to the place we are bound to, where he may safely and lawfully posess you; since you now love, as I perceive, and have forgiven him his crime in getting you, we will assist him to be happy. The selling human creatures is a crime my soul abhors; and wealth so got, never thrives. Though he is black,
[129] yet the Almighty made him as well as us, and Christianity never taught us cruelty: we ought to visit those countries to convert, not buy our fellow-creatures, nor to enslave and use them as if they were devils, or they not men.’ Don Carlos joined with her in opinion; and the captain and all agreed to have them married, and take them along with them. And now being come to their tent, they sat down to eat; poor Leonora being so transported with such charming eonversation, that Harriot could not refrain praising God in her heart, for sending her such a sweet companion.
In the evening Domingo returned with the sailor, with the joyful tidings of there being a Spanish ship at the island they had been at, and the captain had promised to come the next morning in his long boat to fetch them away, his name being Don Emanual, a particular friend of Don Carlos
[130] and our Spanish captain. This news revived them all, and now Harriot talked to Domingo, offering him to take him and Leonora to St. Do- mingo, and see them married in the Spanish ship the next day: and Don Carlos promised that the governor his father should permit them to settle there; and then, said he, Leonora may, if you think fit, write to her father, and let him know where she is. Domingo gladly accepted of this proposal, being so overjoyed to hear that Leonora consented to marry him, he fell prostrate on the ground, and returned thanks to God in so passionate a manner, that it moved all the company. But Harriot, being still deeply concerned for the loss of her dear Leander, seeing herself going to be carried to a place where she should be no longer able to resist Don Carlos’s desires, where his father commanded everything, and from whence there was no possibility to escape without
[131] out his knowledge; a place where she must either yield to be Carlos’s mistress, or wife, and should be ncessitated to break her vows and faith given to Leander; resolved to try the force of eloquence and power over Don Carlos, to prevail with him to land her at Virginia, or at least give her his faithful promise to send her thither by the first ship that went from St. Domingo. In order to this, she asked him to walk with her alone a little way that evening, which he gladly did; there she began to break her mind to him in the most soft and moving terms imaginable: ‘Though we are not of one religion, said she, ‘ yet we are both Christians have given my faith to another, how can I be yours without a crime? I have all the grateful sense that I ought of your civilities towards me, and wish my heart had not been preengaged, that I might have been yours, but since I cannot break
[132] ‘through my engagements with him, permit me to be just, and be assured that I will never love and esteem you next himself whilst I live. He will undoubtedly come to St. Domingo to look after me; and with what consfusion shall I see him, when married to you? Besides, your father and family will abhor me as beneath you;. it is altogether unfit for you to mary a poor English maid, whose family and education you are a stranger to, and who has no fortune to recommend her to the honour of being your wife; so that should I consent, we must be wretched.’
Don Carlos returned this answer ‘Lovely Harriot, on whom I have placed all my love, and in whom my whole happiness in this life consists, I can no more consent to part with you than with my hopes of future happiness or my faith. It is impostible for me to live without you; Leander
[133] merits not your love, he is false to another, and with him you must expect a curse: besides, ‘tis in vain to dispute, I am resolved never to part with you: I have a father who is so tender of me, and so generous and good in his nature, that he will be glad to see me happy, and be fond of you, because you are mine; my family will follow his example; I have a sister fair and wise as yourself, she loves me dearly, and shall be your companion and friend: your virtue is a portion, and I have wealth enough to make us happy and, to remove all your obstacles, you shall not set your foot out of the ship we are designed to go on board of to-morrow morning, till I have wedded and bedded you; which if you consent not to, I must first bed, and then marry you, for you are in my power, you must and shall be mine; and, by this gentle compulsion, I’ll
[134] remove your scruples, and acquit you of your promises to the treacherous Leander, my now hated rival.’
At these words he let go her hand in a kind of disorder, and walked hastily back towards the tent. She followed, much distracted in her thoughts; he stayed till she overtook, him, but went along with her home without speaking another word. After supper, Harriot retiring to bed, could not close her eyes all night; and having in that time well weighed and considering all he said, resolved to consent to marry him, choosing rather to yield to be his with honour than reduce him to treat her in a manner she dreaded worse than death. Camilla’s following Leander, and his negligence, as she construed it, in going into the French ship, and leaving her behind, had a little piqu’d her; and her circumstances, being in Don Carlos’s hands, obliged her to agree to be his; nor did she dislike him,
[135] he was beautiful, had a great fortune, was nobly born, and finely bred. She rose, determined to compose her thoughts, and, if possible, banish the passion she had for Leander out of her soul; but that was’ impossible.
Don Carlos next morning appeared with an unusual gravity in his looks; the long-boat soon arrived with the Spanish captain, and all the gentlemen he had on board, and was received very joyfully; all things worth carrying away were already packed up by the diligent sailors, and soon lent a board; and the boat returning in the evening, Don Carlos, Harriot, Leonora, Mons. Le Montague, Domingo, the Spanish Captain, and all the rest went into it, bidding adieu to the desolate istand, and arrived safe to the ship, where they were welcomed with the guns and good wine. The next morning they weighed anchor, and she ship set sail for the istand of
[136] St. Domingo; then Don Carlos earnestly sollicited Harriot to marry him, and was seconded by her cousin, and the good father who was chaplain to the ship, a friar whose name was Ignatius, to whom he had declared his reasons and resolutions; at last she yielded, and was that day married, as was also Leonora to her amorous Moor, who on this occasion behaved himself so handsomely, and expressed such satisfaction and transport, that everybody was charmed with him. In a few hours they reached the island, and Harriot was conducted by Don Carlos, to his father’s castle, where she was surprised at the great attendance and sumptuous furniture; the governor received his son with great joy and affection, and when he presented Harriot to him, begging his blessing and pardon for marrying without his consent, he took her up and embraced her. Saying ‘If she be as
[137] virtuous as fair, which I doubt not, since you have made her your wife, and be a catholic, I not only give you my blessing, but will do all that is necessary to make you great and happy.’
Here Harriot was surprised, being a protestant, and was ready to sink; but Don Carlos, squeezing her by the hand to give her a hint to conceal her disorder, replied briskly, ‘Honoured sir, she is all you can desire, virtuous, wise, pious, and will I am certain be an honour and comfort to us both.’
Don Carlos’s sister, the charming Lavinia, a most accomplish’d young lady, coming into the presence chamber, welcomed her brother and new sister, to whom she made a present of some very rich jewels she had on; and now all the court (for so the governor’s palace was justly called, for he was there as great, and lived like a king) was soon crowded with all the principal gentlemen and mer
[138] merchants in the town; a mighty treat was got ready, the bells were wet a ringing, and after wupper there was a great ball; Harriot was so complemented and caressed, and her friend Leonora, who accompanied her as a companion or attendant, her circumstance not being mentioned, that she was astonished; and being so young, and unused to such greatness, no doubt but she at this instant forgot Leander, and was transported at her good fortune in getting so noble a husband as Don Carlos.
The ball ended, she was by her husband conducted to a most splendid apartment, attended by her father-in-law, sister, and all the company. Here being again complemented, the company took leave, and an old lady with two waiting women, waited on her and Leonora into a dressing room, into which none but Leonora entered with them; the old lady undressed her, the servants put her on a rich
[139] laced suit of night clothes, a delicate fine shift, nightgown and petticoats all which Lavinia furnished for her new sister, whose beauty she much admired, and highly respected her brother. Leonora had a fine suit off night clothes, nightgown and petticoats given her also, and a chamber prepared next Harriot’s to lie. in. Harriot was conducted by Lavinia to a bedchamber, where the bed was a rich brocade, the hangings arras, and everything magnificent beyond anything she had ever seen in her life. So soon as she was in bed, Lavinia and the rest took leave; then Don Carlos came in at another door in his nightgown, and went to bed to her; mean time the governor dismissed the company, and retired to his apartment.
Now it is fit that we inform ourselves where the Spanish captain and the rest of the passengers were disposed of; he, Domingo, and the
[140] officers belonging to the ship, stayed on board to see the ship cleared and lain up in the harbour. But Don Carlos having thought it proper the Moor should not appear with Leonora, till he had acquainted his father with their story; therefore it was resolved that he should come to the governor the next morning with the captain, who was obliged to wait on him, and give an account of his voyage every time he returned from sea; Domingo’s two chests, in which was all his wealth, were to be likewise brought to the castle: the Moor, who was mnich inclined to jealousy, pasted the night very ill, and thought the time long till the rising fun appeared; he had his little boy in bed with him, whom he hugged and kissed all night; and rising at day break, took a rich habit out of one of his chests, and dressed him self like a petty-prince, as he really was by birth in his own country; he likewise.
[141] likewise put a rich cloak on little Domingo, which Leonora had made him with some scarlet cloth and silver lace, the Moor had brought her for that purpose from the islands he used to trade to. Thus he waited, ready to attend the captain and monsieur Le Montague to the castle, to which they went about ten o’clock, by which time Don Carlos was risen, and had acquainted his father with Leonora’s story and Monsieur Le Montague; the governor welcomed them all, Domingo he embraced, and and promised him protection and favour. Don Carlos conducted him to Leonora and Harriot, who were together in their apartment entertaining a great many ladies, who were come to pay their compliments and breakfast with them. And now nothing but feasting and joy were thought on by all but these two ladies, who having been both bred Protestants, were in a great consternation
[142] nation how they should behave them selves. Harriot had reasoned that morning with her Lord on this subject, and he had convinced her that She was under a necesiity of distem bling her religion; for if his father and family discovered she was a Protestant, she must expect to be hated and slighted, nay, that he should be ruined, and perhaps parted from her. These thoughts almost distracted her, and she had communicated them secretly to Leonora, when she came into her chamber in the morning; they both wept, and found too late they must be of their husband’s religion, or be wretched. Harriot even repented her breach of faith with Leander, and began to apprehend the misfortunes that the change which she had made would bring upon her; but file concealed her thoughts, they went to mass every day, which made them highly caressed by the whole court, and much obliged their husbands,
[143] Domingo, who was impatient to retire with his wife, being very uneasy at the liberties the gentlementook in looking on and talking to her, solicited Don Carlos to procure him some little seat in the country, and had it forthwith granted; for the governor sent him to a little market town about twenty miles from the city, to a house of pleasure which he had there; and here he found a little paradise, a house so neat and richly furnished. Such lovely gardens, fish ponds, fountains, fields and groves, that his imagination could not have formed a more beautiful retreat. Having viewed it, and got all things ready, that is, two servants, and the room aired, he came back to the castle to fetch his wife, and return thanks for his fine being. But when Leonora took leave of Harriot, they both wept, and • Harriot promised to go every summer and pass her time there. Here Domingo and his little family
[144] family lived happily the remainder of their days, having many children, and Leonora by his persuasions, became a true Roman Catholic. But Harriot continued some time a Protestant in her heart; yet at last she was truly happy in her own thoughts, and pleased she was Don Carlos’s wife; for she had all that mortal could wish for, a noble fortune, lovely children, and a husband who loved her beyond expression, and denied her nothing.
And now to return to the pirate captain, who was safely landed on this island, and cured of his wounds; the pirate ship which the Spanish captain had taken and sent away before, with the pirates he had taken aboard of it, being arrived at St. Domingo before his own ship: this gentleman, who was kept a prisoner in the town, hearing of Don Carlos’s marriage with Harriot, sent her a letter to ask her pardon for what was past, protesting he vas truly penitent, and that
[145] he honoured her virtue as much as he had loved her person; and begged she would procure his enlargement from that dismal place. This letter she showed not her lord; but without relating what had passed between her and the pirate. Spoke in his behalf; and told him he was a Catholic, and a man nobly born, and forced against his will to become a pirate, and that she begged the favour of him to release him, and some way provide for him in the fleet prison. This Don Carlos readily granted, and after speaking to his father, went to the prison and released him and two other gentlemen whom he pleaded for, saying they were his countrymen and friends, and not guilty of any crimes but what they had been forced to. The common Sailors of the pirates were ordered on board the Spanish galleons, and these three gentlemen followed their benefactor to the
[146] castle, to return their thanks to die governor. Don Carlos presenting them to his wife and father, Harriot looked on the pirate captain with some disorder; but he addressed himself to her in these words, making a profound bow, ‘ Madam, I am doubly indebted to you both for my liberty and reformation; I am by your reproofs and generosity freed from both the means and inclinations to sin, and now resolve to live so, that my actions may witness my love to God, and gratitude to you. I will henceforth endeavour to be an honour to my country and religion.’ This speech much pleased her, who perfectly understood his meaning; and in a short time after, the governor gave him a commission of a captain who died in the garrison, and he married a merchant’s widow in the town, who brought him a great fortune. His own companions, according to the
[147] custom of the Irish, made their fortunes there also, and settled in that island. Monsieur Le Montague being highly caressed by Don Carlos, and all his friends, as being Harriot’s near kinsman, soon obtained money and a ship to go to Canada in search of Clementina, promising to stop at that island in his return, before he went home to France. But to return to the unfortunate Leander whom we left at Virginia, much indisposed, which prevented him from coming to St. Domingo for sometime. Leander, after ten month’s sickness, being recovered, employed his kinsman Lewis Dumaresque to hire a bark secretly to carry them to the island of St. Domingo, fearing Camilla should get knowledge of his design, and again follow him; besides, he knew her passion would be so violent, that he should scarce be
[148] able to leave her. She was now in a deep consumption, and had been so kind to him, that he was obliged to withdraw himself with great reluctance; and had he known Harriot was disposed of, no doubt but he would have married this unfortunate lady, who now dearly paid for her parting him from her rival; for she had like to have died with grief after he left her. His kinsman got a bark, and acquainted his father with their designs, who, to forward it, having nothing to object against it. Since Leander and the lady were contracted, as he assured him they were, took Madam Camilla with him to a lady’s, who was related to him, and had a fine plantation not far from his, persuading her it would be good for her health to stay there a few days. Leander promised to fetch her home soon, and taking leave of her, found himself in so great disorder, that he
[149] was like to swoon, conscious that he designed to see her no more; and stung with a sense of his ingratitude to her who so passionately loved him, he was in the utmost disorder. She likewise, as if apprehensive of her misfortune, let fall a shower of tears: thus parted, never to meet again, as he supposed. He went aboard with his kinsman, and set sail for the island, where he was to meet with greater misfortunes than he ever yet met with. So soon as the ship was gone off the coast, Monsieur Dumaresque, Leander’s uncle, who was a widower, and was fallen in love with Camilla, glad of this opportunity (as he hoped) to cure her of her passion for his nephew, rid over to his kinswoman’s, where he had two days before left her, to acquaint her with his being gone, aggravating the baseness of his leaving her thus treachcroulsy, and vile in gratitude to her: but she, as one
[150] thunderstruck, made little reply; but casting up her eyes to heaven, with a deep sigh cried, ‘tis just, my God, I am the criminal, and he is innocent; affection cannot be forced: I vainly strove against thy decrees, and ask no more but to be forgiven, and to die. She fainted away, and was carried to her chamber, where the lady of the house endeavoured all she was able to comfort her; and to her she related all her story, not concealing the subtle stratagem she had made use of to get Leander from her rival, saying, his but just that I should suffer for my crime and folly in persevering to love him, who cannot return it as he ought. She so abandoned herself to these thoughts, that her sickness daily increased, and they despaired of her continuing long alive. She was very sensible of her own condition, and seemed much pleased with the thoughts
[151] of death; for besides the loss of the man she so excessively loved, the sense she had of her own folly, and the desperateness of her circumstances, being left in a stranger’s care, with whom indeed Leander had left money to provide for, and carry her home, to France; but thither she was ashamed to return; besides, it might be long e’er her health would permit her to take such a voyage. All thesc sad rdledions overwhelmed her, and had doubtless killed her, had not Providence mercifully prolonged her life to be happy, Monsieur Dumaresque shewed the greatest concern and affection for her that a man could pofiibly make appear; professing he desired no greater happiness on earth than the continuance of her life, and would give all his fortune to save her. All the physicians of note in the place were made use of, and at last, art and nature joined together, raised
[152] her from her sick bed; and then reason took place over fancy, and ihe hearkened to Dumaresque’s proposal, wliose generosity put in the balance tvith leander’s ingratitude, and the imposhbility of her being his, prevailed with her to accept of his oii er. Thus she was happily pro ^ for, and Leander lost great part of his uncle’s fortune which he had dehgned to give him, never designing to marry again, till he Saw this young lady, by whom he had many fine children to inherit what lie could settle on them, without injuring his eldest fon, which was very considerable. In few days after his departure, Leander arrived safely with his kinsman at the island of St, Domingo, and being a stranger there, got the captain of the bark, who vas used to trade there, to take them a lodging, thinking it most prudent not to appear too openly in a place where
[153]
his rival’s father was governor, till he had got information how Harriot was disposed of; which he soon learned to his inexpressible grief: for his kinsman making inquiry after her of the captain of the ship that brought her thither, whom he met with at a coffeehouse to; which he was directed; he told him of her marriage and good fortune as he termed it. And, indeed. So it was, had her lover never come to ruin her peace. Leander was quite distracted with this news; his kinsman wisely advised him to return to Virginia, and never see her. She cannot be blamed, said he, she was left in your rival’s power, and has wisely chose rather to marry, and be his wife with honour, than to be his mistress by compulsion, and be ruined; and now it would be cruel and ungenerous to revive her grief by seeing her: besides, should her husband be infurmed of your speaking
[154] to her, it might make her miserable all the rest of her days; and this would be an ill proof of your love to her. This, and a thousand things more, he said to persuade him to be gone; but all to no purpose: was deaf as the winds, and behaved himself like a madman. At last he resolved to go to the church she used on festival days, disguised in a Spanish habit, which the captain of the bark procured him, and have a sight of her, promising not to attempt to speak to her. It was the cathedral church and the Sunday following, Leander, who had not stirred out of his lodging from the day of his arrival, which was on the Wednesday before, went with his kinsman to the high mass, where he saw his lovely Harriot, who was great with, child, standing by her husband and father-in-law near the altar, and the lovely Lavinia by her, four crimson velvet.
[155] velvet chairs being placed within the rails on a rich carpet for them. She was dressed in a Spanish dress, rich as art could make it, and had store of jewels in her hair and on her breast; thus adorned, he thought her more beautiful than ever, and felt such tortures in his soul, that he could not govern his passion, but dropped down in a swoon, : which occasioned some disorder among the people; the crowd was so great, that he could not be carried out, but was unfortunately brought near the rails: Harriot turning her head. Soon knew his face, gave a great shriek, and swooned, falling back into one of the chairs. Don Carlos’s jealousy was presently awakened, and he too truly guested who was in the church; but Leander’s kinsman very prudently, fearing a discovery, got him carried out into the air, and muffling his face up in his cloak, led him home to
[156] their lodging, being come to himself so soon as he came into the open air. Harriot fainting, was supposed to be occasioned by her being surprised at the noise in the church, or with heat, being with child; this past with all but her lord, who, upon her recovering, led her to his coach, and went home with her, being impatient to question her what she saw: that so much disordered her; she said she thought the spaniard that sainted, was so like Leander, that being surprised, she could not but be so discomposed. He desired her to go no more into public assemblies till she was up again; resolving in himself to set such spies at work, that if Leander was arrived there, he should soon be sent farther off, or dispatched. She promised to do whatever he would have her, and he seemed contented. But his soul was so inflamed with jealousy, that he could rest no more till he was satisfied.
[157] of the truth, and had secured his rival. It was not many hours before those he set at work to discover who this person was that had occasioned this disorder in the church, informed him, that two gentlemen were arrived in a ship from Virginia, and lodged privately in the town; that one of them made inquiry after Harriot, meeting the Spanish captain at the coffeehouse. In fine, his suspicions were now confirmed, and he persuaded Harriot to go to Domingo’s in the country, to pass a month with Leonora, saying, it would be better for her to be in a place where she would be freed from receiving ceremonious visits, and could better in herself in that sweet retirement; and that she should continue there till she was near her time, if she pleased. She willingly consented, being now deeply melancholy, and glad of an opportunity to be
[158] alone with her dear friend Leonora; to whom she could unbosom her thoughts. He carried her thither, and lest her, pretending he had business that obliged him to return to his father; concluding in his own thoughts, that Leander, who no doubt was impatient to speak with her, would soon learn where she was, follow her, and venture to pay her a visit, he being absent. The old lady or governess, who attended her, was his creature, and he left her a spy on all her actions. He took his leave as usual, with all the tenderness and concern imagine able; saying, he should think each day a year till he returned, to her. All things were translated as he foresaw; Leander learning he was absent, and Harriot at the country house, went with, his friend disguised in their Spanish dresses, to the village where she was, and took a lodging in a peasant’s house, where
[159] they kept very private for two days; then his friend and kinsman, who ventured abroad for intelligence, being certain that he was not known by Don Carlos, having seen her walking, in the garden with Leonora, informed him of it; so they consulted what to do: and Leander, fearing to surprise her a second time, resolved to write a letter to her, and sent it by his friend: the contents of which were as follow.
Still charming tho’ perjur’d Harriot. ‘After a tedious sickness, occasioned by my grief for the loss of you, which long confined me to my bed, and brought me almost to the: grave, I am come to this island,. where I have learned the cruel news that you are now another’s. I shall make you no reproaches, nor ask anything but the honour of one hour’s conversation with you, after which you shall never, more be [160] importuned or disordered with the sight of me. I love you as passionately as ever, and only desire to prove it by dying at your feet. Let it be soon, lest grief deprive me of that satisfaction; my soul is so transported with despair, that only the hope of seeing you once more, keeps me alive. My angel, name: the place and time to my friend, and for the last time oblige
Your constant undone
Leander. [161] This letter was delivered into Harriot’s hand by Dumaresqne the next morning: for he ventured to go into the gardens before day over the stone wall, and there hid himself in a summerhouse till Harriot came into the garden to walk with her friend Leonora alone. He took this, as he thought, lucky opportunity, and at their coming into the summerhouse to sit down, presented himself and the letter to her. She was a little startled, but believing Leander was not gone from the island. She expected to hear from or see him, concluding he would by some means or other find a way to send or come to her; so she immediately guested who he came from. She read the moving lines, and shedding a stood of tears. Said, ‘ Sir, tell the unfortunate Leander it was his misfortune, not my fault, that we are separated; his leaving me, put me under a fatal necessity
[162] of giving myself to him in whose power I was left. I am now disposed of to a noble husband, whom I am bound to love and honour. It is altogether improper for me to admit of a visit from the man whom I have loved, and still have too much inclination for; besides, it is inconsistent with my honour, and may be both our ruin. I make it my last request to him therefore to leave this island immediately, and conjure him, as he values his, own life, or my peace, not to attempt seeing; me, or to stay here a day longer husband is already alarmed, and has, I fear, brought me to this place with design to betray him. For heaven’s sake persuade him to fly hence, and not render me entirely miserable. Tell him, I beg him to remember me no more, but in his prayers, and to submit with a, Christian resignation
[163] to the will of Heaven. This ‘ is all I can say to him, and my final answer.’
At these words she rose, and went out of the summerhouse, leaving Leonora to let him out at the back gate with a key which she always carried in her pocket, to let them into a grove, which was behind the garden. Leonora hastened him away, entreating him never more to return. Harriot retired to her closet, and there gave way to her passion; love to Leander was now revived, and she had the most dreadful apprehensions of his danger that can be conceived. She perused the dear lines he had sent her a hundred times over, and washed them pale with her tears. Whilst she was thus employed, Don Carlos, who had laid all the time in the village, and had received information of the stranger’s lodging at the peasant’s, and of Dumaresque’s being in the
[164] garden (Harriot having been watched by the old Dovegna) knocked at the closet door: She asked who was there; and hearing his voice, dapt the letter into her bosorn, and opened the door in such a disorder that her lord would have been much surprised at, if he had not known the cause of it before. He took her in his arms with a forced air of affection, but his eyes fiashed with rage; he trembled, and spoke in so distracted a manner, that she too well perceived he was informed of what had past, and was so overcome with grief, that she fainted in his arms: he laid her gently on the couch, and took the letter out of her bosom, read it and putting it there again, called the old governess who waited without, and presently fetched cordials to bring her to herself; but they tried all means in vain so long, that he thought her dead, and indeed began to abandon
[165] himself to passion: Leonora, who had retired into her chamber, seeing Don Carlos go into the apartment as she was going to give Harriot an account that the gentleman was gone away in safety, hearing his complaints, came in, and also thought her dead: the physicians were called, and by their aid she was brought to life, but immediately fell in labour, being seven months gone with child. This caused a great deal of confusion in the family, where nothing was prepared for her lying in, it being dessgned to be in the castle with the utmost magnificence. At three in the afternoon she was delivered of a son, who lived but a few hours, and was therefore by the physicians advice baptised so soon as it was born. Don Carlos was highly afflicted at his own imprudence in surprising her, and shewed the utmost tenderness and concern for her, kneeling by
[166] her bedside on the floor, kissing her hands, professing that he loved and valued her above all earthly things, and could not live without her; till at last the physicians in treated him to quit the room, and leave her to repose : so the chamber being darkened, and none but nurses left to attend her, poor Harriot was delivered up to her own sad thoughts, which soon threw her into a fever that had like to have ended her life. And now Don Carlos was ten times more enraged against Leander than before, looking upon him as the cause of his child’s death, and perhaps of his beloved Harriot, for which he now resolved to be revenged of him. In order to this, he immediately set four bravoes, whom he had before hired, and placed ready to seize him, to watch his lodgings: they were all disguised, and hid themselves in a field behind the peasant’s house; towards the
[167] dusk of the evening they perceived Leander and his friend go forth, and take the way to Domingo’s; they followed, and so soon as they saw them enter the grove, seized them. His kinsman bad dissuaded him from this attempt all he was able, but he was determined to see Harriot or die; and since his friend had so easily got to the speech of her, flattered himself he should have the same good fortune: but when he found himself seized by villains, gagged and bound with his generous friend, who was like to be made a sacrifice by his folly, he bitterly repented his rashness. They were thrown across a horse, like calves, their legs and hands being fastened with a cord under the horse’s belly, a sumpter-horse-cloth was thrown over them, and thus they were carried all night, guarded by the four bravoes, who were well armed, and had a pass from the governor’s
[168] son, so that none offered to stop them. By break of day they arrived at an old castle, well fortified, on the north side of the island, where an officer and twelve soldiers were in garrison, who had received orders before what to do with these unfortunate gentlemen, whom he was to keep secure in the castle dungeon, being pirates, desperate villains, and reserved to make discoveries by the rack, if they would not do it voluntarily. Don Carlos confirmed all this to the officer by a letter he sent him some days before : into the dungeon they were accordingly carried, put in irons, and left to live upon the allowance the officer was ordered to give them, which was very sufficient: for Don Carlos was not willing to load his conscience with the guilt of murdering them, but only desired to secure his own repose and his wife’s honour, and would willingly have sent them
[169] to any place, and set them at liberty, could he but have been secured from their ever returning to St. Domingo. To Leander’s friend he had no prejudice; nay, he rather had an esteem for him, for the generous friendship he had shown in rishing his life for his friend. These gentlemen thus secured, the bravoes went back to Don Carlos, who on this news was more at ease, and applied his whole thoughts about Harriot’s indisposition. She was many days light headed, calling often upon Leander, which stabbed him to the heart. It was more than six months before she was able to go out of her chamber. In this time she often asked Leonora if she could hear nothing of him. Sometimes she flattered herself that he had prudently took her advice, and left the island; inwardly reproached him with want of affection: then reflecting on his daring temper and
[170] constancy, which his venturing thither after her did evidence, she concluded he had heard of her illness, and lay still concealed there: then she trembled with the thoughts of his being discovered, or ruining himself and her by venturing to speak to her; another while she feared he was murdered. So soon as she was was able, Don Carlos carried her to the castle, where his father received her with much joy, and all the ladies paid her visits, congratulating her recovery. The ship that brought Leander, set sail, having waited two months, and returned to Virginia, at which his uncle and Camilla was much surprised; but concluded that (mad with his disappointment) he was gone home to France; and they were much concerned at young Dumaresque’s not returning or writing; but were fain to rest satisfied, expecting to hear from them.
[171] When the wretched Leander saw himself and his friend in this dismal place, no words can express the, tortures or his mind; and indeed it was a providence he was at that time fettered, his despair might have drove him to destroy himself; he sighed deeply, and the big drops ran scalding down his cheeks; grief had so benumbed his faculties, that his tongue could not utter one word; so that he remained silent, with his eyes fixed on his friend, who bore his afflictions calmly; for he had not love and despair to combat, had lost no mistress, loved his friend, and had a soul so generous, that he was even glad, since it was his fate to be thus confined, that he was a partner of his fortune, and reserved to comfort him in that place. Why, said he to the afflicted Leander, ‘My dear friend, do you thus abandon yourself to grief, and are so cast down at an accidental
[172] fortune? Could you expect less than this from an incensed husband? Is it not a mercy you are still alive? When we went from our lodgings, we were determiund to run all risques, and are you shocked at a thing you had before armed against? Your jealous rival’s rage will in time diminish; and when he comes to reflect on this action, he will doubtless repent, and permit you to depart this island: if he persists in his revenge, death is the utmost we can fear; and can there be a place more fit to prepare for it in, than this? Here we may live free from the temptations of the world, and learn the state of our own souls; nay, converse with our Maker by contemplation, and enjoy that peace of mind, that we were strangers to whilst we lived at large. Consider how many brave men have perished for want abroad,
[173] and how many pious persons have retreated to dismal caves and deserts, and left all the delights of this life, to enjoy that quiet and repose which we may here possess. Harriot has already, doubtless, suffered for your imprudence; and in pursuing her, you offended heaven, who having thus punished you, on your submission will, I doubt not, free you hence. As for my own part, I am so far from repenting I accompanied you, that I rejoice that God has been pleated; to preserve me, and bring me to this place to comfort you; nor would I leave you, though I were freed.’
Leander having been very attentive to all he said, replied, ‘Was ever generosity like this? What a miserable wretch am I, that by my follies have ruined the peace of her I loved, and subjected my faithful generous friend to fetters and a dungeon? I merit
[174] all that I can suffer; but your presence puts me on the rack, yet I will hope. My God, thy way are marvellous; in thee I’ll trust, and strive to bring my stubborn will to submit to thine.’
The first transports of his passion being thus conquered, he began to be resigned; now food and wine being brought to them, they ate thankfully what was provided, and for some days converted and prayed together, like men prepared for all events; but the damp unwholesome vapours in the dungeon threw them both into such an illness, taking away the use of their limbs, that the commanding officer, who was a Frenchman, sent to Don Carlos, to know what he should do with them; assuring him they would die, if not soon removed: on which he sent orders to him, to remove them to an apartment on the top of the castle, where they might walk on the battlements
[175] and take the air, have a bed, and chambers to walk about, and their fetters taken of. His conscience touched him, and he would willingly have freed Leander’s kinsman, but that he feared he would make a clamour about his friend. These orders were punctually obeyed by the officer, and the prisoners soon recovered: and he sometimes paid them a visit and so became informed of the true cause of their being brought thither, and pitied their condition. At last he contracted so great a friendship with them, that he said he would willingly free them, could he be assured he should not lose his commission by it: but it would not be long, he supposed, before he should be relieved by another officer and band of soldiers, it being customary for the garison to be changed every six months; and then he would furnished them with ropes to let themselves down from the
[176] battlements, on that side of the castle near the sea, which beat against the walls; and that they, need not fear drowning, the water being shallow at ebb. ‘Thence, says he, you may get to the shore, and disguised in two soldiers’ coats, which I will give you; hide yourselves in the adjacent wood. This you must do in the night, and get off the island, if possible, as soon as daybreaks, for fear of being taken; for search will doubtless be made for you so soon as you are missed. You may effect this by seizing the first fishing boat you find on the shore, of which there are many, plenty of huts being in these parts on the coast; where fishermen dwell during this aummer season; and you will find their bpats, wshich are ‘ every night hauled up on the shore. This is all I dare do to serve you, and this perhaps will
[177] cost me my life, if discovered.’
They not only thanked, him in the most expressive terms, but promised if they ever lived to reach Virginia again, to show their gratitude: and he promised to give them intelligence of whatever befell Harriot, by the captain who brought them thither, whom they resolved to send to that island yearly, he giving them a direction where they should always inquire for him. This concluded on, Leander and his kinsman grew cheerful.
At last orders coming for the officer to depart thence, he faithfully performed all he had promised, leaving them ropes and red coats; nay, when he took his leave, which he did with much affection, he presented Leander with a good purse of gold, which he had much ado to make him accept of. But indeed it was necessary they should not want money, of which they had no
[178] great store about them, having left all their clothes and money at the lodgings in which the captain of the ship had placed them at their landing in the town; for they brought nothing to the peasant’s house in the village, but some linen and about twenty pistoles in gold, and some Spanish ducatoons in silver, in their pockets.
The very night after the captain was gone they made their escape, young Dumaresque’s kinsman venturing down first from the battlements, having sworn his friend should not venture till he had tried the danger for it was a vast height from whence, they descended, and had the rope broke he had run a great risque of lostng his life. They fastened two ropes to the top of one of the battlements, and putting their gloves on, slid down one after the other into the sea, which, then was so high, it being young flood, that it almost
[179] took them up to their breasts, and the waves beat so strong, that they had much ado to reach the shore; from whence they fled to the wood, and pasted through it to the other side: there sheltered by the trees from the view of the garrison, they stood a while to see what boats lay on the shore; and choosing such a one as they thought they were able to manage, and launch into the sea without help, they dragged it into it, hoisted sail, and put off. But alas! Their condition was worse than ever, they knew not well how to steer the boat, and were so weak and tired before, that they could scarce row or guide it. They had no provision aboard but a little bisket and salt meat, that they found stowed in the fisherman’s locker his cabin, with a bottle of rack, and a small barrel of fresh water. And all their hopes were to reach some island not belonging to the
[180] Spaniards; they steered for Jamaica from whence they were certain they could get a passage to Virginia, where Leander resolved to remain with his uncle and friend till Harriot was dead, or a widow; and never to return to France again without her, whilst she was living. They were in sight of Jamaica, when the wind began to blow and the waters foam: then a terrible storm began, which drove them for four nights and days quite out of their knowledge; in which time their provisions were spent, and their strength so decayed, that they were forced to lie down, and leave themselves to Providence. But nothing afflicted them so much as thirst; all their fresh water was gone, and drinking salt, so increased their drought, that they feared to repent it. Thus they continued for three days more drove by the winds and waves: in these three days hunger
[181] so pressed them, that they ransacked every corner of the boat to find a morsel to eat, and devoured every bit of mouldy biscuit they could find: but, alas! that was so little, it only tantalised, not satisfied their craving stomachs. And now they began to reflect, that it had been better for them to have continued prisoners, than have exposed themselves to such miseries. Thus experience tells us, that when we have obtained our own wishes, not easy in the state Providence has placed us in, we are more unhappy than we were before. The generous Montandre begged his kinsman to kill him, and preserve his own life, by seeding on his warm flesh, and sucking his blood saying, ‘We must now both inevitably perish, unless one supply the other’s wants.’ Leander was so shocked at this proposal, that his very soul shivered. ‘no, (says he) before I
[182] would destroy you, I would eat my own flesh: no, we will live and die together: we have this night pasted over many banks of sand, and are doubtless near some shore; now pluck up your spirit, - and let us redouble onr importunity to God to send us a deliverance.’ Before the words were out of his mouth, a wave tosted a large dolphin into the boat, which they killed with the oars, and fell to eating. sucking the warm blood and raw flesh more greedily than ever they had done the most delicious food prepared for them. This greatly refreshed them, and towards sun setting the wind abating, they laid by their oars, and fell to eating more of the raw fish, but sparingly, not knowing how long they hast to live upon it. Whilst they were at this strange supper they spied land, on which they applied themselves afresh to their oars, and about midnight:
[183] reached the shore; but not knowing where they were, dragged the boat up on the sand, and lay in it till daybreak, having been driven in by the tide with such violence,, that they could not stop her before she struck on the sands. When day appeared they found they had entered into the gulf of Mexico, between the isles of Cuba and Jucatan, and were landed on that coast: where the Spaniards were masters they thought it best to pretend they were Frenchmen, who, being cash away in a ship, had escaped death by getting into that fishing boat, which the wind had (as they supposed) drove out to sea from the Havanna, near which they pretended the ship they were in perished for though they had soldier’s coats, on, yet their Spanish habits showed they were gentlemen, and their behaviour showed their breeding. The Spaniards received them kindly, and
[184] a merchant took them into his house, where he entertained them very generously, and invited them to continue there till they could find means to go to Virginia, telling them it was their best way to do so by some trading vessel, which he supposed they must wait some time for. This merchant had a bark ready to sail with goods for Carolina, from whence it would not be very difficult for them, to go by land to Virginia: he offered them a passage in this strip, which they gladly accepted of; and in few days went aboard, and got safe to Carolina. They hired a guide to conduct them through the country to Virginia; but pasting by the Apalatteau mountains, a party of Indians came down upon them, and carrying them away over the mountains, plundered them of their money and clothes. Amongst these Indians they continued in the greatest misery, being
[185] obliged to live after their barbarous fashion as slaves; till going out with a party to cut fuel in the thick woods, they took their opportunity to make their escape, being desperate, and hid themselves in a cave in the night, choosing rather to venture being devoured by wild beasts, than spend their lives in slavery. They lay concealed in this place till the Indians were gone farther on; then, destitute of food, and in their slaves dress, they stead towards one of the Spanish forts, which they could never have reached, had they not met with an old hermit, who lived in a poor cottage near a wood: he was standing at his door, and seeing two poor slaves, who looked like death, come towards him, supposed they were in want and Christians, so invited them in, to their great surprise, and gave them bread and drink, asking where they were going. They gave him the account,
[186] that they were cast away in a ship saved in a fishing boat near the Havanna, driven on the coast of Jucattan; from thence went in a bark to Carolina, and going across the countries for Virginia, were taken and made staves; and wearied with the miseries they endured, were now endeavouring to eseape to Fort Philip. He told them, he would conduct them thither in safety the next morning. They staid with him all night, lying on straw (as he did) with warm coverlids: and being: very importunate to know the reasons of his living this solitary life, he told them his story in these words.
I am, laid he, by birth a Frenchman; I was the younger son of a counsellor, who had a great estate, and was put in a good post under my father so soon as I was able to understand business, having a clerk’s place in the salt-office. Here being fronm
[187] from under my father’s eye, I contracted an intimacy with a young gentlewoman who lived with her aunt, a person who, tho’ well born, was fallen to decay, and they maintained themselves by their needles, and some small income the aunt had left, very genteely, but with much difficulty. It was my fortune to see this young woman at church, she was very beautiful and genteel. I followed her home, made love to her, and was well received. I pretended an honourable affection; but, alas, had no other design in my wicked heart but to debauch her. Their circumstances made them willingly receive the presents and treats I gave them, not thinking it dishonourable, since I pretended maariage; glad was the innocent creature to be provided for: their conversation was charming, and their conduct so reserved and modest, that I was a great while before I could
[188]
I could venture to make any attempt upon her virtue; but then I was repulsed with such scorn and reproofs, that I almost despaired of effecting my base design; but knowing that it would be my ruin if I married her, and being now so much in love, that I knew not how to live without her, I still persisted in my visits and importunities, and though refused the sight of her frequently, and always received with reproaches, yet I could not desist; and finding all my attempts were in vain, and that I could not seduce her to my will, at last I consented to marry her privately, on condition that she should keep it a secret. This she gladly consented to, and so we were married by a Cordelier who was her confessor: and then I was made happy in the possession of my dear Flavia, who was the most virtuous - and most charming woman breathing. He shed some tears, and
[189] could scarce go on; but recovering, he continued his discourse. thus : and now, gentlemen: I am going to relate a part of my life, that fills my soul with horror, and will, I hope, deter all that hear it from committing such crimes: we past some months as happily as we could wish, and she grew great with child; but my expenses increasing, and a prospects of more charges coming on, made me grow something uneasy; to add to which, my father began to press me about a marriage that was proposed to him much to my advantage. This put anxious thoughts into my head, and made me reflect how imprudent I had been: my eager desires were satisfied, my love diminished, as my ambition and avarice were encreased; and in fine, I wished her dead, and meditated on nothing but how to get rid of her. Thus my disobedience in marrying without my father’s knowledge
[190] and consent, drew down heaven’s anger upon me, and the devil tempted me on to proceed to more flagrant crimes. I did not visit my wife so often as usual, but humoured my father in visiting the young lady proposed to me, who was every way agreeable, and had the most prevailing argument on her side to engage man’s inconstant heart, that is, a great fortune: she was the only daughter of a rich banker, had taken a fancy to me, and her parents doting on her, resolved not to cross her, for which reason they made the proposal to my father: such advances were made on their side, that I could find no pretence to delay the marriage longer. And now I foresaw that I must either incur my father’s hatred, and be ruined, (for he was a man of an implacable temper, and would, I knew, abandon me, if he discovered my marriage) or else that I must rid myself of
[191] Flavia forthwith, and then I might be great, and, as I vainly flattered myself, happy. This wicked thought I indulged, and long revolved in my mind, till at last I reshelved to put it in execution; and though I was grievously tormented in my conscience, yet I persevered in this wicked design, and bought poison, which I made an infusion of in wine, and putting it into a vial in my pocket, I went to my virtuous wife to lie all night: she received me with open arms; I appeared more cheerful and kind than usual; we supped, and after supper, I pretended I was not well, and desired we might have some burnt wine, which her aunt presently got: I slyly poured the poison into the cup, which I presented to my dear wife, pretending she and her aunt must drink with me; they readily complied, always studying to oblige me : but when I saw Flavia swallow it my
[192] soul shivered, my conscience flew in my face; and when she came and kissed me as I was going to bed, I felt tortures not to be expressed, or indeed conceived, but by such - wretches as myself. She had not lain long in my arms, but convulsions seized her nerves, and I called her aunt and servant up, showing the greatest concern; but neither of them suspected what was the matter, nor need I counterfeit, for at that instant I was filled with such horrors, that I would have given the whole world to save her. From this moment my peace was broke, and I became the most miserable man breathing. She expired in my arms before day, with the dear murdered infant in her; saying the kindest things to me, and praying for me even in the last agonies ot death. The innocent Flavia thus dispatched, I took leave, giving money to her aunt (who was almost distracted with grief) to bury her.
[193] They had kept a maidservant ever since my marriage, and I left them in the house, and excused myseif irom being present at her burial, lest my father should hear of it; promising the aunt to be always kind to her. Having left these melancholy objects, I went to the tavern, drank a quart of wine to revive my spirits, and then went home to my father’s. And now my whole business was to divert my thoughts as much as possible; I went abroad every day, drank, danced, went to the play, and so lulled myself with variety of pleasure, that the terrors of my conscience were something silenced. The impressions of Flavia’s murder wore off, and I was married; but the bridal night I was no sooner in bed, and the candles extinguished, than, as I was going to take my bride in my arms, the curtain at my bed’s head was drawn back; and turning my head
[194] imagined I saw the fae Flavia standing by my side, big with child, and the fatal vial in her hand, which she seemed to shake, and looked upon me with a look that struck quite through my soul; the cold sweat trickled down my face, and the bed shook under me; every nerve shivered as if the agonies of death had eized me. Thus I lay with my eyes shut, not daring to lift up my eyelids, till the daybreak had freed me from this dreadful vision, which made such an impression on my soul, that I fancied her ever in my sight, and could not relish nor take any satisfaction in anything I possessed. I concealed this from the world, and did all that was possible to oblige my new wife, who was doatingly fond of me, and had brought me so great a fortune, that we wanted nothing that wealth could purchase, to make us happy in a moderate way of life. But
[195] wealth could not cure my wounded conscience, I had a load of guilt upon my soul, and was continually upon the rack this soon destroyed my health, and so afflicted her, that she was almost as unhappy as myself. Being through great weakness, attended with an intermitting fever, confined to my bed, I seriously prepared for death, and confessed myself to a Franciscan, a man of great wisdom and piety, who so eloquently laid before me the enormity of my crime, the terrors of eternal punishment, and the infinite mercies of God, on a sincere repentance, that I heartily lamented my sins, and endeavoured to reconcile myself to God; on which he was pleased to raise me up again, and prolong my life. My wife was now great with child, and had never had the smallpox, which she unfortunately caught by going to an opera, where she saw a person
[196] newly recovered; and at her coming home was taken ill, and died of them. Being now left a widower, the thoughts I had had in my late sickness, came a fresh into my mind, and I resolved to retire from the world; but my father and friends much opposed it, being desirous I should marry again, because my elder brother was consumptive, and, though married seven years, had no child. The prosped of having all my father’s fortune prevailed with me not to enter into the church or any religious community but being still uneasy in my mind, thinking I ought to do something to atone for my sins, I resolved to retire to some remote part of the world to do penance for them by fasting, and prayers, and alms deeds. I therefore put all my estate into my confessor’s hands, to distribute the income of it every year to the poor, and return me forty pounds a year
[197] to this place by the hands of a gentleman who is an officer in Fort Philip, to which you are designed to go; with him I came to this part of the world, being my intimate friend and near relation : he receives my income, and when I want provisions or money, I repair to him. My poverty and manner, of living makes the Indians never molest me, nay, they dove me, and supply me with anything I want: besides I am a kind of physician amongst them; for having took delight in studying physic, I am arrived to some knowledge in it, and well acquainted with the nature and life of ail the medicinal herbs that grow in these parts. I am also part of a surgeon, and dress their wounds and sores, and by this means have many opportunities of saving the bodies and souls, by instructing them in the Christian faith. I speak their languages, and often procure the
[198] freedom of those Christians who like you have unfortunately fallen into their hands. Thus I have lived for these eight years, and am now so inured to this solitary way of living, and so satisfied with this poor retreat, that I do not think ever to return to h ranee again, or venture into the world any more; and hoping I have made my peace with God, I wait my death as a man who places his hopes on an eternal state.
Thus he concluded his story, Leander, who during this discourse was filled with admiration, yet never interrupted him, now broke silence: Monsieur De Liste, said he, ‘ What transport can equal mine to find you here? I have news to tell you will recall you soon to France. I shall tell you wonders.’
“Is not your name Leander, (said the amazed hermit) “and have I the happiness to meet with and entertain the youth [199] whom I so dearly loved?”
‘Yes, said Leander, ‘I am that man whom you were pleased to honour with your friendship in so peculiar a manner; and to convince you that the Almighty has accepted your repentance and alms deeds, am doubtless sent to this place to set your mind at ease, and restore that peace of conscience that you have been so long a stranger to. Flavia is, I hope, still living; she was in perfect health health six years a gone when I left France.’
“Flavia living! (Said the hermit) amazing wonder! my ravish’d soul can scarce credit the strange report, though my best loved friend, speak, tell me the manner how she was preserved from death, whilst my listening wounded soul is healed with the soft sound of your sweet speech.”
‘I will make haste (Said Leander) ‘to satisfy you, so soon as you had left the house
[200] Flavia’s aunt, who had been before informed of all your actions, knew your courtship to your new mistress, and frequent visits there, had marked your coldness to and neglect of Flavia, and made observations on your behaviour that fatal night, her sudden illness and surprising death; the minute you turned your back, ran to the convent, which you know was not a stone’s throw from the house; and called upon the honest cordelier, who had married you, a man who was a good physician as well as a divine, and told him with tears the strange manner of Flavia’s death, which he immediately suspeded to be the effect of poison; and taking some strong emeticks with him, ran to the house as fast as his legs could carry him, and finding her body warm and pliant, poured enough down her throat to effect his good design; for it so
[201] wrought, that it soon brought up the baneful drug, and with more proper application, at last restored her oppressed faculties to their use, and her to life and health, with the innocent child, so that both were preserved, and she perfectly recovered in a few days; which they kept a secret by his advice. Since your cruel husband (said he) has this time failed of executing his wicked purpose, he will no doubt repeat the attempt, and may at last succeed; to avoid which, you shall retire to a convent of our order, where my sister is abbess, there care Shall be taken of you and the child. Let him suffer by the remorse of his own conscience, and smart for his sin, nor be freed from his torments by knowing you are saved. When he dies, I will do justice to the child if it lives, and seize the estate. Mean time you shall know how
[202] he fares with his new choice, and be freed from those fears which his knowledge of your being alive will subject you to. She consented, and has continued in this convent ever since, with her son, who was born there. All this I was informed of by her aunt, my near kinswoman, who had made me privy to your marriage, and engaged me not to disclose it; but now it ought to be no longer a secret to you, since you are truly penitent.’
The hermit fell on his knees, and with a stood of tears returned thanks to God, in such moving exprestions, as drew tears from Leander and his kinsman’s eyes. Then they related the particulars of their adventures; and rising as soon as day appeared, set out together for Fort-Philip, resolving to go to Virginia by the first opportunity, whence De Lisle might easily get passage to France, being impatient to see and ask pardon of
[203] his injured Flavia. Being arrived at Fort-Philip, they were kindly entertained by tke hermit’s friend, furnished them with clothes, and a guide, with some soldiers to guard them to Virginia, and protect them from the Indians. This officer being acquainted with his friend’s story and Leander’s, gave them money to defray their charges on the way to Virginia, from whence Leander promised to furnish De Lisle with all necessaries for his return to France.
And here we shall leave these gentlemen, to inquire what is become of Monsieur Le Montague Harriot’s kinsman, whom she met with in the cottage on the desolate island, and brought with her to the istand of St. Domingo, from whence he went in a bark to Canada in search of Clementina. He arrived safe at Quebeck, where he was informed
[204] the French captain had been to trade, but here he could get no news of her: he visited all the coast in vain, till he came to find out a French merchant, who assured him the ship was gone to Newfoundland to trade; he immediately went a board his bark, and set sail for that place, and here he got intelligence: that Clementina had been seen there very much indisposed, and that the captain had carried her thence with design to return to France. Monsieur Le Montague was overjoyed at this news; and returning to the island of St. Domingo with the bark, acquainted Don Carlos and Harriot with this good news, and resolved to go for France, hoping to find her there before him. An opportunity for this he quickly found, and got safe thither in a French merchant ship. At his arrival he found his eldest brother dead,
[205] and took possession of his estate again, and would have sat down in repose, had Clementina been there; but no other news could be got of her, but that the ship she was in was taken by the Algerine pirates, and none returned to France to give any account of what was become of her and the other persons on board of it. He well knew it was in vain for him to attempt a farther search for her, and therefore retired to a little seat in the country, where he gave himself up to contemplation, and lived the life of a man that had quitted the world; whilst poor Clementina being made a slave, was sold by the Algerine pirate to the bay of Tunis; whose steward, a Moor, that used to purchase the handsome European virgins for his master, bought her, and carried her home to his seraglio. The French captain had done all that he was able to debauch her
[206] himself, but in vain; he was so in amoured, that he could not part with her, though an old man, and having carried her from place to place to no purpose, resolved at last to bring her back to France, and restore her to her friends; condemning her mother’s proceedings and himself for being instrumental in so wicked a design. But now he was also a slave, and punished for his crime. The virtuous Clementina thus lodged in the seraglio, with others as unhappy as herfelf, being a lady of an heroic spirit and consummate virtue, bravely resolved to die, rather than submit to a Mahometan; and thus determined, began to consider what to do to deliver herself; in order to which she thought it best to apply herself to one of those unfortunate beauties, who seemed well acquainted with that place and life, appearing to have
[207] some command there. This proved to be a Venetian lady, to whom she addressed herself with tears. Saying, Madam, your face speaks you a Christian as I am, I beg that you would inform me what I am to be done withal, in this strange place.’
‘Alas, sweet creature, said she, ‘you are destined to be ruined, and deprived of your liberty during your life. I have lived here these four years, and never hope to see the outside of these walls again then she took her by the hand, and led her into her chamber, saying, we shall be observed let us shut the door and talk alone.’ Being seated in this room, which was richly furnished, the seraglio being the finest in the whole city, in which there was apartments for twenty women and their attendants, with fine gardens to walk in, enclosed with walls of
[208] great height, Clementina told her the whole story of her life and misfortunes, which drew tears from the lovely Mariana’s eyes; for so the Venetian lady was named. She related her life in this manner.
THE HISTORY OF
MISS HARRIOT MONTAGUE
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. II.
LONDON:
Printed for J. Roson, No. 54, St, martin’s
Lc Grand, near Newgate street.
M DCC LX
THE HISTORY OF MISS HARRIOT MONTAGUE
I AM the daughter of a noble Venetian, my brother is a knight of Malta, my name is Mariana. I was placed in a monastery as a pensioner, being but twelve years old; there a young gentleman courted me secretly, the younger son of a noble family, who was a captain in the service of the state, and had no other fortune but his commistion, which indeed was sufficient to support him nobly, but
[2] was not considerable enough to answer that great fortune my father design’d me, or to answer his and my brother’s ambitious expectations, I being an only daughter. This gentleman’s person and sense gain’d my affection, so that I prefer’d him in my heart before all others, gave him my hand and promise to be his; but it was not long e’er it was discover’d that some conversation had pass’d between us, and I was sent for home and question’d, but confess’d nothing. This distracted my lover, and he was impatient at my being kept from him: so that at last he made use of a stratagem to get me, which he thus effected: He sent me a letter by a servant to my father’s, which he doubted not would be intercepted; in which he acquainted me, after abundance of passionate assurances, that he would ever love me; that fearing I foster’d much constraint and uneasiness on his account, he was resolv’d to sell his post, and go for Spain, having
[3] ing some great relations there by his mother’s side, who was a Spanish lady, by whose interest he doubted not to get a better post; and this was the most generous proof he could give me of his affections, being resolv’d to make himself miserable to render me happy. My father, who broke open this letter, was very glad, and had me narrowly watch’d, till he saw that he did what he pretended, which he quickly did; for he sold his post, and took leave of his friends, and went aboard a ship for Spain, as he pretended. Then I was sent back to the monastery, where I soon receiv’d a letter from him by means of another pensioner who was our confident; in which he inform’d me, that he lay conceal’d at a village hard by, and that he conjur’d me to get away with the first opportunity, and come to him this I did the next evening at the close of the day, and got safe to his friend’s house where he was conceal’d. Here he receiv’d me with open arms, and
[4] his friend’s chaplain married us that night. We went away thence before day the next morning, in his coach, which carry’d us to the port where the ship’s boat lay ready to receive us, he having hir’d the vessel on purpose. We went aboard, weigh’d anchor, and set sail for Barcelona; but before we could reach that port, we were unfortunately taken by an Algerine pirate, and brought to this dismal place, where I was parted from him, and sold to this vile infidel, to whose curs’d bed I have been forc’d, and have had the misfortune to be lik’d. He has been absent these four months, being gone to his country seat to pass the summer season, where he has other wretched women to divert him; he is to return hither in three days, and then you must be a victim to his lust no question.
Here she let fall a stood of tears, and Clementina bore her company. ‘You have, said she, ‘told me a story more unhappy than my own, since
[5] I have still preserv’d my virtue, and am now resolved rather to die than yield, since providence grants me three days for my escape. I’ll use that time, and bravely venture to get hence, or die in the attempt; if you will venture with me, speak, I’ll lead the way, death is preferable to such a life as this.’
“You say you are a Christian, heroick maid, said Mariana, “would you commit self murder? Is no other way left to free us, or must we kill each other?”
‘Far be that dreadful thought, said Clementina ‘from my soul; no, I have thought of other means in the short time I have been here. I have observ’d a moorish slave whom I saw enter the garden with a key a a door that leads to the sea, as near as I can guess; that key I am resolved to purchase by his death. Do you contrive some strange disguise to cover us, and pack your jewels up, or what you have of value else, ready to carry out with us, and I
[6] will meet him at the gate when he enters at the break of day, as I suppose his custom is, and stab him with a penknife I have hid about me. Could we get the habit of an eunuch for each of us, it would be the safest disguise we could put on; the Bey being absent, few of his servants left here, and those left on their guard, and more negligent than when he is present, it will not be so difficult to get away as at another time.’
‘I can procure such habits, said Mariana, and doubt not though our apartment is lock’d up every night, yet the windows are not so high, but we may easily venture dowm, tying the sheets of our beds together, by which we may slip down into the garden, where in a chamber on one side the seraglio door, two white eunuchs lie to guard it; next this chamber is the wardrobe: if one of us can but get in at the window of this place, and they not hear us, we may have
[7] clothes of any kind, and jewels too.”
‘I will attempt it, said Clementina, and would prefer all dangers, and even death, to infamy and slavery.’ And so will I, said Mariana. Being thus resolv’d, they waited till night came on, when hearing all things still, Clementina crept to her friend’s chamber, who had bundled up her jewels and some linen : they got down from the window, and then went to the wardrobe, the moon shining very bright, and were some time before they could get in at the window, it being very high; but at last Clementina’s wit, which exceeded her sex (tho’ women ever were esteem’d more quick and subtle than mankind at cunning plots and quick contrivances) soon found the way to enter; She got on Mariana’s shoulders, and went in there trembling; she got two rich vests, two turbants, two pair of Turkish boots, and a box, whose rich outsivde and weight, though small, made her
[8] believe it worth the carrying away; these she bundled up, and threw out of the window to her friend: but then she was at a mighty loss how to get out again, which she in vain attempted, it being imposisible for her to get np to the window from whence She had dropped down into the room: no way was left but to pass through the eunuchs chamber, and this necessity prevail’d with her to do. She took down two rich scymiters that hung up in fine embroider’d belts, and having drawn one, pass’d through the chamber where the eunuchs lay fast asleep, resolving if they stirr’d, to kill them, or to die by their hands. Upon the table there stood a stiver bowl half full of wine, of which no doubt they had took their fill, although their prophet does forbid it them; for few Musselmen refuse to drink it in private: this bowl she took, with a bunch of keys which lay by it; and going to the door found the key in it, so she gently unlock’d it, and putting it to after her,
[9] went out safely to her friend, who stood trembling and almost dead with fear. Clementina shew’d her the keys, one of which she fancy’d would open the garden gate, to which they hasted, and to their great satisfaction found it so: being got out of the gate, which they lock’d after them, they stood to consider which way to go, and resolv’d to get away from the town to. the next wood or rush’d building they could meet with; they had not gone above two miles, when they enter’d a grove, at the farther end of which they found an old ruin’d mosque, which they went into with great fear, lest some old Turkish Brahmen or Saintoin should live there; but hearing no creature stir but bats and screech owls, and such vermin as live in unfrequented places, they took courage, and the day beginning to break, they laid down their bundles, and changing their clothes, put on their Turkish habits, which instead of being mean, such as slaves wear, belong’d
[10] to the Bey himself, being both cloth of gold, the buttons of the one was rubies, and the other emeralds; the turbants were suitably rich, and full of diamonds, pearls, and other jewels; So that they had an immense treasure, had they known how to dispose of it. But at this time they would willingly have parted with it all for some poor habit to conceal them, fearing they should be pursu’d and taken, not knowing where to hide themselves: They were weary, faint, and had no food, and search’d every corner of this ruinous place to hide themselves; at last they found a door which seem’d to lead down some stairs into a vault, where they suppos’d the dead were bury’d, and that they should meet with nothing there but skulls and bones and noisom vapours; yet had they had a light, they would gladly have gone into it to hide themselves, nay liv’d, and chose to sleep and eat amongst the dead, rather than to live luxuriousty with infidels. They sat
[11] down upon the stairs however to rest their tir’d limbs; so that is any should pass by, they might shut the door upon them. As they sat thus consulting what to do, they heard a noise, and saw a man enter the mosque with a dark lanthorn in his hand and a loaf under his arm, with some scraps of meat, and fish in a little basket; he had a long coarse frize garment on, his face and hands were tawny, he had only sandals on his feet, and a strange fashion’d straw hat upon his head; he sat down his basket and bread, and opening his lantern, turning the light side towards them, came to the door, and was going downstairs, when Mariana giving a great shriek, fell into a swoon upon Clementina, and had like to have beat her down the stairs. It is impostible to express her thoughts at this instant; for though she was a woman of great, courage, and had a dauntless soul, yet she was shock’d at the instant, as was also the stranger. He looked upon them
[12] with amazement; the beauty of their faces, the splendour of their habits, and the strange place he found them in, astonish’d him. Clementina at last recovering herself, view’d him attentively, and reason’d with herself that he was but a man unarm’d, and in all probability as much in distress as themselves; mean time he concluded they were women disguis’d, and doubtless fled thither for shelter; that they must be Europeans, and persons of birth by their beauty, delicate hands, shape, and complexions. He said thus in French to Clementina, ‘In the name of God what are you, and from whence came you? Speak, if you understand me, tell me if you are in distress, that I may help you.’
“We are by birth Europeans, and profess the Christian faith, said she, as I doubt not you do, since you speak my native language; we are fled from ruin, infamy and stavery, and got into this dismal place to screen ourselves from the fury of
[13] the Infidels whom we this morning fled from. Assist us to escape their hands, and find us means to get hence, and all the riches we have about us shall be yours.”
At these words the man shedding some tears, took her by the hand with an air that spoke him a gentleman. ‘ Fair creature, said he, I will assist and defend you, and that lovely friend that you support, with my life; fear not to descend with me into the vault, where I have lived above three tedious years, and where we may without fear of discovery talk our misfortunes over.’
He took the loaf and Mariana being now something recover’d from her swoon, made way for him to go down before them with the light; at the bottom of the stairs they found a room all of stone clean though dismal, in which wer three doors which open’d into three other rooms like that; in one of these lay a great quantity of bones and skulls, which this poor hermit had
[14] clear’d the other rooms of; in that he liv’d in, was a bed made of straw and rushes, into which he used to creep, covering himself with nothing else but an old mantle, in which he used to wrap himself in winter: near this his miserable bed, there lay two square stones, one about a foot higher than the other; the highest was his table to eat upon, the other his seat to sit upon; this with a poor lamp was all his furniture, except two earthen dishes, and a stone bottle that us’d to keep water for him to drink. And now desiring his guests to sit down, lighting his lamp, he pull’d a small bottle of arrack out of his pocket, desiring them to drink, which they did. The lamp burning clear they could with great satisfaction view each other, the hermit view’d Mariana more attentively, he leap’d up and catched her in his arms with such transports, that Clementina was amazed and terrify’d, fearing he had some ill design upon them; but she was quickly undeceived
[15] for he cry’d out, ‘my Mariana! my angel! have I liv’d to ‘ embrace you again? is it possible? and do I hold in my arms my wife? It is too much: such joy is insupportable.’ At these words being extreme weak, he fainted, for he was even starved with this poor way of life, and grown a perfect: skeleton. Mariana was so surpriz’d. She could not utter one word; but Clementina pour’d some of the arrack into his mouth, which soon revived him; the most pastionate discourse pasted between him and Mariana that can be imagined: for what joy could exceed hers to meet her dear husband again? She beg’d to know how he came to live in that place; and all that had pasted since they were parted, which he related in these words, kissing her hands, and gazing upon her all the while, as if his glad soul, which seemed to sparkle in his eager eyes, would feast itself on that delightful object.
[16] My life, said be, the fatal day tha we were parted, and you were sold to the cursed Bey of Tunis, who ha no doubt enjoy’d that lovely person (then he sigh’d deeply, and she wept) and I was disposed of for a slave to an old Jew, who drove me home into the country before him, with my arms pinion’d. Being come to his house, he put me into the garden to work there I was made draw water, dig and labour hard all day, at night chained like a dog in a hole unde his summer house on straw; my food and labour were so hard, that in few days I fell sick of an ague and fever; so that fearing I should die, he took me into the house, making me wait at table, whet the knive, go on errands, and such trivial things but my weakness increasing, I was, at last confin’d to my bed. This frightened him so, that he told me, (finding I was a gentleman, and unfit for service) if I would write to my friends, and procure a tolerable ransom fon i • Mils Harriot Montague, ly fom, he would let me go. Then I told him that there was a young gentlewoman who was taken with me in the Same Ship, and that if he could get me intelligence where She was, and find on what terms She might be freed, then I would send to Spain to my friends for a ransom for both, though they were but in mean circumstances; for I dar’d say no other, because the villain would have been extravagant in his demands; and I told him unless he could do this, I did not think it worth my while to write, or care what became of me. This vex’d him horribly. In Short, I lay ill So long, that had not his daughter, a handsome jewish maid, privately supply’d me with Some rich wines and good food, I had surely dy’d : for though a kind of a doctor he employed, gave me some medicines that conquer d my disease, yet I had never recovered strength enough to get away without her help; but being able to walk about, and little notice being taken / The HISTORY of taken, of me by the Servants, I lefi the house one evening, and resolved t6 get back near Tunis, where 1 hop’d to get Some news of you. Thi? jew’s country house was fifteen miles off it, and I was two days and nighu a crawling to this minous place, intc which I entered, to rest myself, being quite spent. I had a bottle o’ wine, and Some bread and meat ty’c up in a cloth in this little basket, ir which I us’d to gather fruit for the table. After I hast eat and stepped here I began to confider what to do; if i enter’d the city, I Should run the risl< of being taken up perhaps and examined, and So be Sent to prison for i runaway, or Sent back to my master which was almost as bad: fo a though A ‘ ^ came into my head, that if I coule find means to fubfist and live concealed in this place, I might have Some fortunate opportunity of finding where you were. Then I began to view the place more narrowly, and found thi; door : I descended into the vault, bu i 4 miss Harriot Montague, io It was So dark I could not discern what was in it, but groping about, I thought I heard a groan, and turning my head, discernm the glimmering of a lamp in one of the inner rooms : I entered it, though in Some disorder, and there I Saw’one of the most dismal objects that ever eyes beheld, it was an aged man drested in this coarse coat that I have on, his beard reached to his waste, his bones appeared ready to start through his parched Shrivelled skin, his eyes were Sunk, his voice failed, and he Seemed to be in the last agonies of death, as indeed he was. I could hardly recol lect my Spirits, I was So moved at this dreadful sight. He fixed his eyes upon me, and seemed desirous to speak to me. In the name of jesus, Said I,, what are you that are thus come to dwell amongst the dead? That name, ■ said he, is Sweet indeed; speak it again, dear Christian, and comfort my departing soul. At these words charity made me haste to give him some The HISTORY o f Some of my wine, of which he Swallowed but a little with much difficulty;; that a little revived hirn, and I begged of him to get down Some more. In fine, he was So refreshedv that I hop’d I fiiould have Saved his life, but was deceived. I know. Said he, your curiosity is great to know who I am, and the strange adventures that have brought me to this dismal place and end; and I will endeavour to reward your kindness, if I am able, with the story of my life; I was the eldest Son of a noble family in Spain, it was my fortune to fall in love with a young lady, the daughter of a Grandee r I got her father’s permistion to court her, but was received but coldly; in fine, I found I had Some rival who Supplanted me in her affection, and made it my whole study to discover who he was; and it was not long e’er I was satisfy’d that a young Cavalier used to be admitted through the gardens fre quenttyj in the dead time of the •<4 w ^ ^ nightj / miss Harriot Montague, zt night, to her apartment. I passionately loved her, and this discovery So enraged me, that I resoived to kill him. In short, I lay in ambush with three of my Servants, in a grove behind the gardens, and Saw him enter, leaving his horse and one Servant to wait his coming out, which wtts not till the break of day. I advanced at the head of my Servants, and Shot him dead, and made off immediately without discovery, being mask’d; my coach waited about two miles off the place; So I quitted my horse, and went into it, reaching my own home in the city before it was broad day : by noon the news was Spread all over the city that Don Ferdinand de Juan my coufin german was kill’d, but none could discover by whom. I concealed my thoughts, appearing much concerned for his death, and being unable to live at quiet without Ravina, I pressed for our marriage So earnestly, that her father consented, and vie were joined f y 4 22 The HISTORY OF by the Sacred rites, not to be happy but wretched; for She was So sincere % ^ her affection to her murder’d lover, that She. could never be happy with another; and having too well convinced myself the first night, that my bride was no virgin, I grew furiousty jealous and unkind to her. This usage put her upon measures to be revenged; and her charms Soon procured me Such a rival, that I knew not how to cope withal; a duke made me that modish thing a cuckold, and to prevent my having any opportunity of being revenged, not only came always well attended to my house, but procured me a great post in the army, which obliged me to be absent from home most part of the year; yet niy wife lost no time but cursed me with a child every year. So that I began to look on her as a vile strumpet, and the children as vipers and serpents produced by her lust and my dishonour. At last 1 plotted the destruction of her and them; ✓ miss Harriot Montague. 23 them, and having contrived this villainy to destroy them, and ruin my own peace and Soul, laid all things ready to escape from justice, I came home, and at one fatal supper in my wife’s apartment, poisoned her and her three children. At midnight I took horse, and reached the next, fearport by daybreak, where a bark lay which I had hired to carry me to England, having remitted a vast sum of money thither in order to provide for me there, knowing I must never return to Spain again. I went on board, met with a great storm which drove us towards the straits, where an Algerine pirate met with and took us; being brought to Tunis, I was sold for a stave to a Basta, who kept. me in extreme misery seven years; he being kill’d in the wars, I fell into the hands of his fon, who was an officer of the guard to the King of Fez and Morocco; with him I travelled many thousand leagues, carrying burdens, and running by his horfe’s fide. All H The HISTORY of - ‘♦ ‘ V All this I looked upon as a just punishment inflicted upon me by divine ‘ justice for my enormous sins, and must confess the horrors of that guilt that loads my soul, were always more grievous to me than the bodily pains I Suffered, though they were almost insupportable. At last, quite wearied out and desperate, I fled over the mountains, and after wandering about in the disguise of a poor dervife, which ■ is the habit I have on, by means of which I pafted undiscovered to this place, in which I chose to reside, and have lived five whole years unmolested, I got my bread by begging in‘ “. the adjacent city and Suburbs, being held in great veneration by the common people, by reason of my dress ^ made me pafs for a religious mahometan. All this time I have been labouring to make my peace with God by prayers and tears, hoping to wasti away my stains, and purify my conscience;; I hope, through the merits of my Saviour. I have’;. done: 3_. U K, 1^ I’ *■ I
- ’ y’ Mils Harriot Montague. 25 ‘done; It is about ten days since, coming to my dismal cell, I Saw two persons struggling as if one was going to rob or kill the other, and step >ping in between them, one of them, which I siippose to be the thief, stab’d me into the thigh with a poisoned icnise, as I since conclude, and then fled; the person I had rescued. Seemed very thankful, and desirous to know who I was, to reward me; but I was Shy of that. So he gave me a purse of gold and left me. I hasted home to dress my wound with Some Salve I had by me, but the next morning I could not rise; I have lain here ever Since in extreme torment, have had no food these three days past, and believe my thigh is mortified. He related all this, often faltering in his Speech, and groaning, nay fainting Several times; but I Spare to make particular mention of these things. He concluded thus: And now, Said he, I Shall die by a violent death as those I murdered did; may God ac vol. II C cept \ 26 The HISTORY OF cept of these my Sufferings and Repentance here, in compensation of the ills I have done, and then I Shall be happy. I kept him alive with the wine that night, but the mortification ended his unhappy life the next morning. I drag’d nis body into the next room, and Shut up the door as close as I could, to avoid the stench of it, and concluded to live here, putting on his old coat as a sure disguise: : took the purse of gold also, which was a great help to me, and having dy’d my face and hands with the juice of an herb to make me look thus tawny, have lived undiscovered all this time. I learned at my jew master’s to make straw hats, and baskets for to gather fruit in; these I make here in the heat of the day and sell for bread and meat, which if I get none ready drefs’d I broil upon Some coals, making a fire of sticks in the mosque, in one corner of which I have made myself a kind of fireplace with stones; then I bring down Some of the hot coals upon Miss Harriot Montaohe. -27 on a tile into this place to warm and dry it, else I Should die with the dampness of it. I am So well acquainted with the country now, that I am confident I could find out Some more commodious place to live in: but fearing to go farther off the city, and be less likely to hear news of you, made me continue here; but since providence has been fo merciful to bring you hither, you Shall take up with this being Some few days, till I can procure Such a difguise for each of you as I have on, and colour your faces like mine, which will wash off again; and then I will provide Some better place near the seaside for us to dwell in, till God is pleased to send some Ship to carry us off from this place. The rich vests and turbants you have on would Surely betray us; we will take the jewels off, and hide them in the vault among the dead bones, where none will seek them, and tomorrow I will buy two coats, and boots, with flannel to make you C 2 long 2s The HISTORY Of long tunicks to your heels, to keep you warm, and hide your fine linen underneath; your heads Shall be covered with flannel hoods, like cowls, with straw hats. This resolved on, they Sat down, and eat thankfully of the Scraps he had brought home. Thus with a good conscience, men may live contented, nay be even happy in the most miserable circumstances. A charnel house now entertains these two ladies, who are better pleased to eat Scraps, and lie on straw and the cold stones, than dwell in a fine palace, and steep on beds of down with infamy. After this poor repast, they prayed, and laid them’down to rest, mariana’s husband having fastened the door of the vault within fide as he used to do, to prevent wild beasts from entering there. The next morning he went to the city, and bought what they wanted, yet not at one place, but at several, for fear of suspicion, and returned soon;; they sat down to work, and Miss Harriot Montague. 29 and made the flannel tunicks and hoods, as he diredied them; he had brought meat, and dressed it in the mosque above, whilst they worked in the vault below: by night they had finished their disguises; and he, impatient to remove them from that dismal place, went out after they had dined, and searching along the Shore, found an old ruinous cottage on the fide of a rock, fo built in the cleft of the rock, that it was well screened from the bleak winds or parching fun, and fo Shadowed with trees that grew round about and over it, that it was not easily seen. No body lived in this place but an old fisherman and his wife. Don Alonzo told them he was a poor dervife whose cottage was tumbled down, and if they would quit this for him and two more hermits to live in, he would pay them to their content; the poor devout peasants, reverencing his sacred person and profefldon, gladly consented: : he paid them a Small matter, C 3, though 3^ The HISTORY OF though to them it was a great shirr,, and they quitted the place, retiring to another cottage at a little distance rom it; these poor people he employed to buy two quilts. Some coverlids, and what elfe was wanting, to make this place a convenient cell for ^ him and his two friends; and in three days time, all being ready, they removed in the dusk of the evening from their distnal vault to this clean wholeshme cottage, where they lived for some monthsvery happily/hs their rich jewels and clothes in a hole m the rock : the poor fisherman and his wife were very serviceable to them,, fetching what they wanted, and supplying them with fish; and having a good strong boat, they hoped by his means to get to some ship, he havshg promised to go on board the first European ship he could get sight of at sea, for which service Don Alonzo ashired him, he would give them ten pieces of gold. During the time of nr female hermits abode in this place, they / Miss Harriot Montague. 31 they never went into the town; but Don Alonzo neglected not to go frequently to sell his straw baskets and, hats, which the ladies learned to make with great dexterity; fo that they made enough to supply them with bread and meat in way of exchange. And now he thought it would not be improper to convert some of the jewels into ready money, which might stand them in stead, in cafe they found cause to remove or means to get off. In order to this, he carry’d some of the jewels Clementina had brought away in the fine box she took out of the bey’s wardrobe, which they had broke open, and found to be full of jewels and gold; a few of these he went with to a jew merchant in the city, whom he told that he had found a box with these jewels, and Some other things of value in it, on the Lands, as he was walking on the Seashore, and supposed to be part of some Shipwreck: the Jew did not much trouble him with questions, but C 4 finding i 32 The HISTORY OF finding he Should have them a good pennyworth, cared not how he came by them, and bid him a thousand pieces of gold, but Don Alonzo insisted upon two thousand, to which the Jew at last agreed, and paid him down the money, the jewels being no doubt worth twice as much; but this Sum was Sufficient for our hermits. And now Don Alonzo could boldly go to him, and buy what they wanted, without fearing to give occasion of fulpicion,, stnce the Jew would not wonder how he came by money. All the diversion the hermits took, was to walk on the seashore in the evenings and early in the mornings, in hopes to discover fbme ship to get off. One morning, a dreadful storm having blown in the night, they went out to see what mischief was: done; and Clementina b .ing foremost, perceived Something floating on the sea;; stood still to observe it, and Soon Saw it was a man, with his hands fast clenched on a chest, his. habit: miss Harriot Montague. 33 habit was lac’d with stiver : She cry’d out to Don Alonzo to come to help this poor wretch: he ran, and stepping up to his middle in the water, ‘caught hold of the chest and drag’d it to shore. Then they took the man up, who appeared to be dead, but Don Alonzo holding him up by the heels, the water poured out of his mouth in great quantity, after which Some stgns of life appeared; they carried him homt^ to their cottage, gave him rack, and put him into a: warm bed, and So brought him to life; he was, a very handsome gentleman, and his linen and clothes Spoke him a man of no mean quality. Don Alonzo left him with the Ladies,, whilst he called the stfherman to help bring the chest to the cottage, fup postng it to contain something worth Saving. The stranger viewed the ladies with wonder, their strange habits and tawny complexions ill agreeing with the sweetness of their features,, and delicate hands and limbs : he C 5„ thought ^ .M. M. KJ A. KJ £ thought he knew one of them, yet was in doubt. Mean time they were very busy in tending him, giving him. burnt wine, and talking in French to one another, a language he was no flrangcr to, for he was a French gentleman by birth. At last he addrested himfelfto Clementina in this manner: Madam, if my eyes do not deceive ‘ me I have the honour to know you, is not your name Clementina? the unfortunate daughter of a mother ‘ who barbarousty Sent you out of France. Speak, are you a stranger * to Monsieur Le Montague ?’ At this discourse She changed colour, and. shedding some tears, reply’d, ‘ L am ‘ indeed the unfortunate Clementina, ‘and too well know that name, since ‘ I am never like to see, or if I did,. ‘ can never postefs what I fo dearly ‘ loved.’ ‘‘ Yes, Said he, you will I doubt not do both, for he is Safely arrived in France, and a widower, having fouglit for you all over Canada and the West-indies; he came ^ home ivlllsnakklut iviuimtacjujb:. 35 home a little before I left France.” Here he told her all the story of her mother’s death, and the manner of their living together; that he was now postested of a vast estate, and retired from the world on her account. By this time Don Alonzo and the fistier man brought in the chest, and Clementina proceeded to ask the stranger who he was, not being still able to recollect. He told her immediately that his name was Montelion. Good, heavens! said She, are you that charming gay young captain who used to visit and court my dear friend madam Cleora, when we were pensioners in the monastery together Yes, said he, I am that unfortunate man, who have married and brought that lovely maid from France to lose her life I fear, and it had been well for me to have perished with her; if She is dead, life will be a hell to me. I beg you therefore to add to the charitable office you have done in Saving me, by Searching all tyre coast hereabouts carefully, for She O’ ^ JL V. t XVI VU she was holding fast on the chest, when my fenses forsook me, and then we were not far from the stiore : hope therefore that She may still be alive; if I do not find her, grief will perhaps finish that life that you have rh)w restored’ me to. T Saw a boat noar us when I fainted; and conclude if She had been drowned, She would have kept her hold on. the chest, as’ people generally do; for this reason I flatter myself the fifher boat took her up, and neglected me, whom they might conclude dead or’ that’ Some wave might drive me out of their reach. Don Alonzo sent the old fisherman to make inquiry, who was acquainted with all the others on that coast, the stranger being fb weak he could not’ rise. They entreated him to tell them his adventures, and the manner of his coming to that’coast; which he related in these words. After you fair Clementina Ibft France, I confined my addrestes to Cleora, Tvhpfe. brother Leander, foom after’ Mils flarriot ivlontague. after you were gone, went away for Virginia, being highly disgusted with his guardians, resolving to apply himself to an uncle he has there, wha had cofiderable effects of his in his hands, he persuaded himself would assist him against his other unclesr Camilla followed him, no I news of them has come to France since they left it. Cleora was Soon removed’ from St. Malos to Calais, and I following, She was Sent to the convent’ of Auo; ustine nuns at Paris. Mean o time my elder brother dying, I became master of a fortune sufficient to answer hers : foi applied myself not only to her obdurate uncles, but to the bishop and principal merchants who importuned them to consent to our marriage, but to no purpose, for they were resolved never to part with her and her fortune, tho’ I proceeded So far, that I offered to divide it with them, btit this they rejected with a pretended Scorn. In stne, I Saw all I dki. was to no purpose, So I refolved’ to steal her away, and sty to Virginia to her brother, who being now come of age, might greatly astist me, as I will him. I Set out for Paris with this destgn, but was strangely disappointed when I came there, for She was removed thence to a house of her guardians (an old stone building, strong as a little fort) in a village in p Normandy. Here they placed her under a kind of guard, for they put an old hag in the chamber with her, who never let her stir out but on the leads (for it was the uppermost room in the house)) stout Surly fellows lived below, and took care of the gate. ^ I took a private lodging in this village, disguised like a mean person, leaving my Servants at a market town three miles off; and pretended to the old farmer where I lodged, that I had been stck, and was come to that place for my health, being a tradesman at Coutance; this pasted very well with the country people. The house…. dear Cleora was kept in, i ivlllb j: vxv^xn 4 in, was moated round and bad a drawbridge, which was Seldom let down but when any of the Servants went out or in. I walked round it Several days to confider what eourse to take, and there I had the pleasure or rather torment, of feeing my dear Cleora walking with the old hag upon th e leads. I did not dare to make any. sign to discover myself to her, and being convinced that it was impossible to get at her by fair means, I resolved to life force; in order to which, I Sent the old farmer’s man to the market town, with a letter to my valet de chamber, whom I had left with two footmen and four horses, to come to me next morning, which they accordingly did. I took them to a place in sight of the prison where my mifirefs was, and we staid concealed under ^ i the Shelter of some trees, till we saw one of the men fervants come out, the bridge being let down : we rode up with pistols in our hands, Seized on the bridge, which my two Servants kept % / 40 Ihe hibtoky of kept, whilst my valet de chambr and I forced the Servants at the got to give us entrance; for I caught hir by the throat, and .clapping my piste to his breast, bid him bring me to hi young mistress, or I would kill him He begged for mercy, and I held hin by the arm, and afeended the stair „ with him to the room where she was y You may believe she was extremeh Surprised at Seeing a man enter th room thus rudely, but she quickli recovered her fright at the sight o me. The old hag Screamed anc roared like one distradled, but that j little regarded; So I bid my mistress follow me, arid we ran downstairs 1 mounted her upon my horse behind me, on which I had purposely put a pillion, and my men breaking down the drawbridge, threw it into the moat, and So prevented our beino’ pursued for Some hoursin which time we made off to a curate’s house cross the country, about twenty miles farther: Here we were married, and lay 4 miss harriot Montagtje. 4t lay concealed for above a month, in which time the Search made aster us was over, and they concluded we were gome out of the kingdom. Then having disguifed her in man’s clothes, and a Ship and money, with bills of exchange, being got ready for us at Diepe, we Set out from the curate’s, attended by two Servants, and got Safe off. We then thought ourselves happy, and had a prosperous voyage, till we came through the Straits, when a dreadful storm arose, driving us on this coast; and our ship (which was but Small) striking upon a rock, bulged; we had no way to Save ourselves but by getting into the longboat: my dear wife was my chief care, I got her one of the first in, and the captain and Several Sailors and pastengers leapt after in Such disorder (all being willing to Save their lives) that they overset the boat, and we were all thrown into the merciless Sea. I eatched hold of my dear wife, and feeing The HISTORY of feeing a chest floating, and that w(, were not far from the Shore, I caugh hold of it, bidding her throw herfel upon it: Thus we remained, till mi strength was So Spent, that I could nt longer Sustain the waves beating a gainst me, and fainted at the momen I saw a fishing boat making toward: us; and now all my hope is, that Sh( was taken into in Soon after he had ended his relation, the old fisherman entered, witi the good news, that a flshcrmai standing on the Shore, saw the ladi taken up by the boat, from whenc< they threw a rope, which She catcher hold of; and that the man on th chest was carried off towards that Shore by the waves. He said that woman rung her hands, and feemec to call after him; but that the boa made away out of his sight, from the Shore. Montelion lifting up his hands. crym, ‘ My God, I thank thee with * my soul, that her life is preserved f Let thy angels keep her Safe, and dire Miss Harriot Montague. 45 ‘ direct me to her : Strengthen my ‘ confidence in thee, that the impro ‘ liability of our meeting again may * not drive me to despair The hermits did all they could to comfort him, and procured a habit like theirs for him : They resolved to be gone the first opportunity, but he could shot be persuaded to leave the place without his lady; nay, his impatience was Such, that he often ventured out in a morning early, and would go many miles along the seashore, making inquiry of the fishermen: but alas! he was deceived in looking for her there, for ^ She was otherwise dispofed of. Some months pasted in this manner, fo that he began to despair of finding her, or they of getting thence; but providence, whose ways are unsearchable, and always tend to our good, detained them there for the preservation of the virtuous Cleora. Don Alonzo one morning goings out very early alone to the city to sell his ft 44 The histort OF his straw ware, and buy provilioni as usnal, pasting by a wood, heard that voice of a woman making great lamentations in the French tongue : ht turned aside to See if he could discovei where stie’ was, and following the voice, entered a great way into the wood, in the thickest part of which he perceived a woman sitting on the ground; fly had a Turkifb habit or was very young and beautiful; She held her hands upon one of her legs, which was much swollen; her face was pale as death, her eyes sunk with weeping and famine; She looked upon him as a perfbn resigned to death, and uttered not one word. He spoke to her in French, saying, Nfadam, what ails you how came ‘ you to this place I am a Christian,
- and can help you. Alas! (said she) ‘ I fear all help comes too late; I have •* been here three days with my leg ‘ broke, and have had neither food ‘ nor help, foam not able to rtiove,
- or follow you 5 I lied from ruin and ‘ infamy. miss Harriot Montague. 45 ^ infamy, aud have met death: I was ^ Saved from the merciless Seas, to ‘ perish on the more inhospitable * Shore ‘ Is not your name Cleora? ^ Said he. Yes, Said She, but – - — Here she Swooned, he was troubled that he had nothing to give her, but was forced to run back to the fisher maffs cottage, which way half a mile, yet nearer than his own: here he got Some brandy and made him follow him with a blanket: : they ran all the was, and found her lying as dead, with her teeth clinched; he had much ado to get some of the brandy down her throat, but at last She began to breathe and move: Then they put her into the blanket, and carried her betwixt them home to Don Alonzo, where the transporred Montelion was So divided betwixt grief and joy, that he Scarce knew what he Said or did. The ladies got her into bed, and gave her hot fpoon meat; but when they came to look upon her leg, they Ihrunk back amazed, for Ihe had broke 46 The HISTORY OP broke it Short at the instep, the bone being Split, came through; her leg and foot was So .Swelled, that had the best bone setter in the world beer there, he could not have Set it at that instant, Clementina Tad Some skill She presently made a fomentation with herbs and wine, and applied stdups dipped therein to it, which gave the poor lady great relief in some hours; what to do they knew not; they did not dare to send for a Mahometan Surgeon, there was no Christians of that profestion, and they all feared a mortification, Montelion was almost distracted. At last Don Alonzo went to the Jew, and told him he had occasion for a Surgeon, and desired his asststance. He told him, a friend of his had bought a Christian stave of that profefition, who had been Surgeon to a French Ship; he would direct and recommend him to that friend. He went with a letter from this Jew to the other, who freely lent him his stave 5 and they went toge \ Harriot Montague. 47 together, Don Alonzo talking with him by the way, found he was Surgeon to the Ship which brought Clementina from Canada. He acqu .inted him with her being in his house, and his own story, not fearing to be discovered by a Christian, who he offered to redeem from stavery of the Jew; an offer the other gladly accepted of no question; for though we often live as ill as heathens, who profess ourselves Christians, and whilst we live together are often at variance; yet none but such as have experienced it, can tell the joy and comfort poor Christians find, in meeting and conversing together when in stavery amongst turks and heathens; then true charity glows in their breasts, and they gladly afifist one another to. the utmost of their power. This surgeon was caressed by all, but especially by Clementina, who knew him to be a very honest gentleman. He drested the poor lady, and miraculousty restored her leg to Such 4? The HISTORY OF « Such a state, that in six weeks fly could walk with a crutch, though never able to go upright, but was ever lame, it being impofifible to cure it otherwise, having lain So long without help. Clementina asked him what was become of the captain; he told her he was dead, he believed of the wounds he received in the sight; a just reward for his crimes in using her as he had done. Now Gleora being pretty well recovered, acquainted them how She came into this condition, and the occasion of her flying to the wood where Don Alonzo found her. Being pulled into the boat (Said She) by means of the rope they threw out to me, I expected them (having Shown So much charity to me) to have made after you (addresting herself to her husband) but they Seemed deaf to my entreaties, neither did they under stand me, I beleive, because they were strangers to my language. They made away for Tunis, to which they were * Miss Harriot Montague. 49 Were going, it being a fishing boat belonging to a Bashaw who lives there and Sent them out the day before to get fish for his table, as his custom was. They certainly imagined they had got a prize in me, feeing me young and tolerably handsome. When they had brought me to Shore, they led me directly to the bashaw’s (their masters) house, where I was delivered to a black, who Seemed mighty glad, and viewed me So curiousty, that my face was overspread with blushes. By him I was led to a fine Apartment, where an old maid servant, who spoke French, came to me; the grief and Surprise I was unden made me glad to meet with Somebody to inform me what I was to be done with : I asked her many questions, and was answered, that I Was to be mistress to one of the handsomest and most powerful men in the place, that he was his princes chief favourite; in Short, She praised him up to the shies. I told her I was already married, and vol. II D would 50 The HISTORY of would rather die, than admit of a no tiler’s embraces. She laughed at that and taking off my wet clothes, borough me up a turkisli dress. Thus I re mained many days confined in thi place, being furnished with all northeast ceffaries of food, habit and lodging in which time walking in the gardem I saw and conversed with fbme C those unfortunate women who hai been purchased for his pleasures, Ei ropeans, now made staves to the ir solent Mahometan, who was at thi time at a country house about tw miles distant from the wood in which Doii Alonzo found me, fo that it wa some months before that I was expc fed to the infidel’s view During m abode in this place I made some a tempts to escape, but could neve effect it, for the staves fo narrow! watched us, that there was no hope of getting away. And now bein quite overwhelmed with sorrow, I at plied myself to God to deliver mt Indeed I wondered that I continue 1 I Miss Harriot Montague, fo long without Seeing this tyrannical Ateerine; but’ at last I learned the ■ reason, she was lick of astertian ague and fever all that time; as Soon as she recovered he ordered me to be brought to him, to his country house, having had Such an advantageous cha, racter given him of me, that he was impatient to see me. I had contracted a kind of friendship with a young creature, who had been brought there at ten years old; her name was Emilia, an English gentleman’s daughter of great fortune; She was goddaughter to a lady, whose husband was a rich Merchant, and went to settle in the West-indies with his family, She took this beautiful girl along with her, and the Ship being unfortunately taken, and brought into Tunis, She was sold to this bashaw, whose mistress She had been five years when I came to that unhappy place. She was fair as an angel, witty, and highly sensible of her misfortune She had brought him a D daugh « 52 The HISTORY OP daughter, which was carried away from her Soon after it was born. She pity’d me extremely, and afisured me that it was almost impostible to escape thence. She Seemed resigned to her misfortunes, and said, since God has been pleased to Suffer her to be reduced to such a way of life, where She could have no opportunity of pradfifing her religion, or avoiding the infidel’s embraces, stie hoped he would not lay anything to her charge as a crime, since it was compulsion, not choice. But all her arguments Seemed weak to me, and I resolved on death rather than to yield. At last, one morning the old French woman entered my chamber, and bid me prepare myself to go to the great man, whose favourite I was to be. She brought me a rich habit and linen, and drested me to all the advantao*e such a pagan habit could be put on with, whilst I stood weeping, carejefs of what stie did, and meditating what to do. At last stie threw a vail over * me. miss Harriot Montague. 5^ me, and led me through the garden to a kind of horse litter, into which the black stave put me. I perceived that there were Seven or eight ill looking staves to guard me. So that it was in vain to restsh I was about three hours upon the road, and had resused to eat anything before I Set out, that I was So faint when they came to take me out, that two of them were fain to lead me into the house, which was a kind of earthly paradise, adorned with fine paintings, and such furniture, that I Was surprised. Being condutsted to a delicate chamber, where there was a bed made after the European fashion, and velvet stools and chairs, things very uncom inon in these parts of the world; they left me, and in a few morients after a gentleman, in a rich nightgown and turban, entered : he was tall, stender, and delicately Shaped, his eyes were black and Shining, his skin moderately fair, his air and mein fo Soft and engaging, that I stood con D 3 founded.
- • 54 The HISTORY of I founded. At these words Montelioti reddened; She perceiving it, with a smile Said, my dear don’t be jealous, for his beauty and my persuasions did him no further Service with me, but to raifemy pity; for I Soon perceived he was an European, and had bought his greatness here by renouncing his faith. He bowed, and flood looking upon me for Some time without fpeak ino*; then, like a man awakened O ^ ^ from a pleasant dream to Substantial joy, he catched me in his arms, and said in French, ‘ same has done you ‘ wrong, sweet creature; you are ‘ fairer than fancy could conceive; ‘ take to your arms a man that adores ‘ you, and knows how to value Such ‘ a treasure; no Barbarian or fierce ‘ Moor, but one who was born in the ‘ politest part of the world: I am an ‘ Italian, whom injuries drove hither; ‘ who being ruined by my fellow. ‘ Christians, have fled for Succour to ‘ barbarians, who have advanced ‘ and made me great enough to make ‘ you Miss Harriot Montague. 55
- you as happy as the world can make ‘ you My Soul was filled with horror at these words. ‘ Have you re ‘ nounced your Saviour, Said I, and ‘ do you think a Christian can look ‘ upon you without abhorrence? my ‘ religion and honour are So dear to ‘ me, that I will die for either; and
- though I am in your power (as you ‘ imagine) whilst I remain firm in this ‘ resolution I am Safe, and your at ‘ tempts are vain He used all the persuasions postible to gain me, nay, stooped to beg and pray; but finding me inflexible, and growing faint, be ing still weak with his.lateillness, he called for wine, Iherbet, and Sweetmeats, courting me to eat and drink, but I refused. Then he asked me if I designed to be my own murderer, and damn myself? I answered no, but I did not think it Safe to eat and drink with a person who had base designs upon my virtue, and might, perhaps, deprive me of my reason by Some stupifying drug, and ruin me : D 4 there 1 ^6 The HISTORY of therefore I would abstain from eating till providence supplied me with Some wholesome bread and water, or anything that might Satisfy hunger without danger. He Seemed surprised at my being fo refolutcj and no doubt but his conscience pricked him when lie Saw me So well perform my duty, which he had by cowardice and ambition acted contrary to. At last he took leave, bidding me reflect, that no human power could free me from him; that I must at last yield to his desires; that he would much rather gain me by courtship, than force; but if I continued obstinate, he must be obliged to constrain me to be kind; then he left me, a stave keeping the door. This civility, I believe, was owing to his weakness;; being now left alone, I sat down in a chair, and fell into a Serious consideration of my wretched condition: I had no weapon to defend myself, or harm him; the doors were guarded; then I viewed the windows, and they were fo miss Harriot Montague. 57 So high, that a leap from thence Seemed to threaten certain death; 1 disputed in my conscience the lawfulness of such an action. Thus I sat till evening, being often interrupted by his officious staves, who brought me choice wines and presents from him, all which I refused;; at last fearing want of fustenance would render me unable to resist him if he offered force, or faintness seize my Spirits, and deprive me of my reason, I made the stave that brought in the wine, drink a glass of it before me, and then I took two glastes full myself, and eat Some bread. When it grew dark they urged me to go to bed, but I refused. They brought in two wax lights, and retired. Shutting the door; and now I trembled, fearing what followed. About midnight the apostate Bashaw entered the chain ber, and fastening the door, came to me, using all the Softest persuasions and entreaties : in ffiort, finding me deaf to all his solicitation?, he prod C needed ■■ 58 The HISTORY of ceeded to use Source; but then Some kind angel Sure aflisted me, for I grew strong, he Soon tired, and renewed his entreaties. At last he swooned at my feet, and then being distracted with my fears, I resolved to life those happy moments; fo without standing to deliberate, I catched the rich fash off that ty’d his nightgown, and fastening one end to one of the bars of the windows, stid down; but that not being above three yards long, I fell down from a great height, and lay for sometime quite stun’d; but recovering, found I had not broke my bones, and rising on my feet, fled towards the next wood, it being a very moonlight night: I thought it riot sofar off as it proved, for it was near two miles, as I guess, and I had hardly strength left to reach it, but fear drove me on When I entered the wood I was filled with more dreadful apprehensions, and fancied the wild beasts would devour me; to avoid which I got up into a tree, whose miss Harriot Montague. 59 whose trunk being old and hollow, I easily climbed : There I Seated myseis and palted the remainder of the night till daybreak?? then I feared to descend, lest I Should be pursued; nor did I know where to go. Whilst, I was thus musing Sleep prevailed over thought, and I fell into a dumber, and drop’d down from the tree, which fall broke my leg. What I endured for three days that I lay there, you may imagine: I expectednothingbi.it death, as ^ I had reason to do; but providence preserved and relieved me by your means, for which I will be thankful whilst I live. All the company joined in praises to God, and were filled with admiration: : pasted the time very a greeably, till the good old fisherman, • whom they had converted to the christian faith, together with his wife, acquainted them, that he had that morning met at Sea with a Spanisti Ship, had been aboard it, and informed the captain of their being there; that he had 6o The HISTORY OF had promised to Send his longboat that night to a creek behind the rock to fetch them. It is. Said he, a fiiip of good force, and fears no pirate, being well armm and mann’d. Don Alonzo, on this news, went away to Tunis, and gave his friend the Surgeon notice, who went back with him. The ladies in the mean time packed up their jewels, money, and Some linen, and all being ready, they went away to the creek in the dusk, and waited the boat’s coming. They offered to take the fisherman and his wife along with them, but they chose to end their lives in their own country, pleading their age : So they left them all their furniture, and twenty pieces of gold, a fufiicient provision Tor them. The ship’s boat came about eleven o’clock at night, and carried them off Safely to the Ship, Don Alonzo promising to assist Clementina and the surgeon to return to. France by land, and he and Mariana doubted not of a good reception from his % miss Harriot Montague. 6i his friends at Madrid., Besides, the two ladies had brought Such a treasure in jewels from the bey’s seraglio, that that being divided was sufficient to provide for them all. Montelion and his lady were presented with a part of them, and his chest having been saved, was a provision for them, they were prevailed upon to desist from their intended voyage to Virginia, Clementina promising, that Monsieur le Montague Should stand by them against her unjust guardians, fo they determined to go home to France with her. The Spanish captain received them with transport, and they had leisure to entertain him with an account of all their strange adventures. They arrived at Barcelona in good health, sold part of their jewels there, highly rewarded the captain, and Don alonzo’s friends provided nobly for him and Mariana, who writ to her parents at Venice an account of all her fnfferings, and safe return to Europe. The S’rench ladies and gentlemen 6a The HISTORY OF tlemen stayed Some days to recover themselves of the fatigue of their voyage, and then fet out for France, promising never to forget the civilities they had received, and the friendship they had all contracted with one another in their misery. And now his fit that we leave the barbarous Algerines, and return to Leander and his kinsman, whom we left travelling to Virginia through Carolina. Leander and his generous kinsman with the hermit Mofieur de Liste, came safe to Virginia, where they were gladly receivedshy the old gentleman and his newt wife. Leander was much pleased that she was now his aunt, and young Dumarefque liked her well enough for a mother in law; yet she could not look upon her nephew without blushes and Some kind of disorder; this was observed by her husband, and he began to wish his kinsman thence. He well knew that She married him in a pique, not out of affection. In Short, having been in formxd Miss Harriot Montague. 6^ formed of all that had befallen him and his fen in their voyage to the island of St. Domingo, he calmly advised him to return to France, having honourably accounted with him for all the moneys and effedfs left in his hands, and made him a handsome present of sugars, tobacco, and other commodities which that country produces, to a great value; saying, ‘ Nephew I al ‘ ways designed you Something, and ‘ though I have now a profpedi; of ‘ more children, yet I will do what ‘ I Intended; you are now of age, ‘ and your guardians can no longer ® detain you from your own, it is time
- you Should settle in the world, and ‘ the young woman you liked being
- disposed of to another, you must use ‘ your reason;; that pastion ‘ which is now unlawful and injurious ‘ to your repose, and look out for a ^ wife in your own nation, to bring ® posterity to keep up your name,
- and be comforts to you in your de ^ dining years Leander thank’d him irnr 64 The HISTORY OF for his good advice and present, bui was determined not to follow his counsel, though Monsieur de Lisle preflec him extremely to go with him tc France, but Leander would not consent to leave Harriot behind. Younc Dumarefque likewise Spurred him or to let him go back to the ifiand to in choir after her; but alas! he hac another design than that only in view he had Seen the charming Lavinia Don carlos’s sister, and her brigh image So filled his Soul, that he coule not rest. We easily consent to wha we desire. Leander deals with th( captain that carried them thither b.c.’ fore, to go back again with his kinsman. Mean time he finding his uncle look cold upon him, invited Mon sieur de Lisle, no Ship being at tha time ready to go for France, to gc with him to see another plantation o: his uncle’s and view the country The Ship goes off with dumaresque much against his father’s will; but he arrived Safe at the ifiand, and resolved t€ Miss Harriot Montague. 6^ to lie on board the ship every night and not taking a lodging on Shore, for Sear of discovery; in the day he ventured to walk about the town, and went to the great church to mass on the next Sunday after his arrival, there he Saw the charming Harriot, with her little Son and daughter standing by the governor her father-in-law, drested in a widow’s dress, and lavi nia in deep mourning. This was a very agreeable sight no doubt to him; he did not dare to venture to Speak to her, but was fain to wait for an opportunity Some other time, which he supposed would not be extreme difficult, now Don Carlos was no more; but he was mistaken, for he had engaged his father on his deathbed to prevent, if pofifible, her ever feeing Leander again. ‘ My dear lord and ‘ father. Said he, he is the cause of ‘ my death, he ruined my repose, ‘ and if he returns, will rob my dear ‘ children of their mother; her af f Sections are still inclined to him. I have 66 The HISTORY or
- have brought her to the catholic ‘ faith, he is a Hugonot, and will ‘ Seduce her from her religion and ‘ child! ‘en; do not let my fortune ‘ Serve to enrich my hated rival, nor ‘ my children be wronged.’ He likewise charged Harriot, as She valued his foul’s repose, not to. marry him, or leave that istand and his children. Thus the revengeful Spaniard, even in death, continued to hate his brave rival, who had a prior right to her heart, and endeavoured to prevent his happiness, even when he could no longer enjoy her himself. For these reasons the governor, who was inconsolable for the loss of his fon, desired Harriot to live in the castle with him, where she was respected as a queen, and had all the reason in. the world to be contented. Lavinia, who was courted by the greatest persons in the istand, kept her company, and there was the greatest friendship imaginable between them. Lavinia had not as yet felt cupid’s Tyranny; - She miss Harriot Montague. 6y o t > She Seemed invincible to love. Young Dumarefque having waited Some days in vain for an opportunity to Speak to Harriot, grew weary, and resolved to give her a letter in publiek. He thought in hi^ielf. She is now a widow, and Sree to choose whom stie pleases; why Should I fear to remind her of her vows and engagements with my friend? He drefsed himself very fine the next festival day, and went to mass earlier than before, and there waited till they all came; then he went boldly up to Harriot, and with a profouild bow, presented the letter to her; this he did with Such a grace and mein, that Lavinia locking upon him, was Seized with Such an unusual liking to him, and So disordered, that She could Scarce conceal it; love at this fatal moment entered her breast. He withdrew to the other fide of the altar So soon as he had delivered the letter, and there placed himself on his knees right against hem, with design to observe Har— — ^ • not 8 / 68 The HISTORY OP riot’s countenance, by whjch he hoped to judge of her Sentiments in relation to his friend, as iikewise to have the pleasure of looking often upon the charming Lavifiia, to whom his eager glances fpoko his passion, whilst her unguarded looks and blush €S astured him he was taken notice of. Meanwhile the governor observed him, and watched Harriot, who having looked on the superscription of the letter, guested that it brought news of Leander, and remembered young dumarefque’s face. This threw her into a mighty disorder; stie put the letter into her pocket, not daring to peruse it in fo public a place: but the distraction of her mind caused her in a few minutes to saint. This confirmed the governor in his suspicions, and he whispered one of his gentlemen, whom he beckoned to him, to take care that gentleman was Secured as he went out of the church, and kept mnder a guard till he examined him. Prayers being ended, h #
miss Harriot Montague. 69 he gave Harriot his hand to lead her to the coach. So that She had lio opportunity to Speak to young duma resque. A young Cavalier, who courted Lavinia, did the Same by her, inflamed with jealousy at her behaviour towards the stranger, who imprudently Sollowed them, in hopes to Speak to one of the ladies; but he was Seized at the church door as they were going into the coach, he struggled, - and demanded a reason of the soldiers and gentlemen that laid hands upon him, but could get no other answer but that it was the governor’s order: So he was carried to the room in the castle, and kept till the governor, having conducted the ladies to their chamber, came and examined him, asking him what the letter contained that he had given his daughter in law, whence he came, and who Sent him: To all which he answered boldly, and told the truth, saying; ‘ My lord, 1 do not think that I ‘ have done anything but my duty. She 70 The HISTORY OF She is a widow, was promised i ‘ my kinsman before, and forced ui ^ justly from him? he is her equa
- and her first choice, and I cann’ ^ imagine why you stiould detain h(
- from him.’ “Your friend replie the governor fiercely, by his in “prudent coming hither ruined rr foms peace, and broke his hear’ he begged me with his dying brea’ never to let him see her more, ^ rob his children of her prefenc whom I will never let her can “hence; and he has bound her t “ the strictest Injunctions never ■ marry again; and to be brief wi’ you, lam determined, if ever 1 sets foot on this island again, to tal such measures to Secure him, th. ‘mt Shall never be in his power disturb her or me any more. 0 “for you, I will try whether a pi fqn can cannot hold you, and if yc escape hence again it stiall be n: fault.” At these words he left.tl room, and young Dumarefque w; hurric miss Harriot Montague, Lurried away that night under a guard to a strong prison into which they used to put criminals of state, ten miles from the town, where he was lodged in all appearance for life. Harriot, fo soon as her father-in-law left her with Lavinia, opened the letter and read it aloud to her; stie could not conceal her joy to hear her dear Leander was alive and constant. Ah!
- my dear lister, said stie, throwing
- her arms about her neck, why did ^ your revengeful brother lay me ^’ under such cruel obligations not to . ^ marry this dear man, to whom my ‘ faith and heart was given before? ‘ He forced me from him. Is it just, ‘ that having been a faithful wife to ‘ him, I should not be at liberty to ‘ dispose of myself to him to whom I ‘ do of right belong now he is dead?
- Your generous soul, though yet a ® stranger to love, is fenlible of pity, ‘ and cannot but compastionate my ® distress, myfoul being divided be ‘ twixt duty to my dead lord, and ‘ affection 72 The HISTORY OF ‘ affection to my living.’ Lavinia em bracing her with tears, replied, “ alaj my filler, I participate of your .grief and fear that I am born to be nn happy too, I love his generou “friend; his person, and nobh friendship to Leander charms me and if I am not deceteed, I am no “indifferent to him. I will do al “ that I am able to afiist you, but i “fear mv father will undo us both “ I law his furious looks, and fear th( ’ effect of his resentments: just a? we entered the coach, I saw the “ people gather in a crowd, and fear “some mifchief.’^ As they were talking, lavinia’s woman, Claudio, eritered as pale as death: madam, faici She, there is a strange gentleman Seized, and brought under a guard into the castle, I saw him carried along just now up the great square. This news extremely alarmed them, and confirmed their fears; they employed Claudio, not daring to be too inqui sttive themselves, to get intelligence, for mis Harriot Montagce. yj for she was mistress to Claudio the / governor’s gentleman, who had the charge of young Dumarefque; but he Setting out with him that night for the prison to see him Secured there, she could get no account of him till the next morning, when she got the Secret out of Claudio where he was. This news overwhelmed the ladies with grief, and Harriot grew fo incensed, that She quarrelled with her father-in-law, complaining that Ihe was not treated as she ought to be, and if the gentleman was not freed, she would complain to the King of Spain, that she had been taken away from Leander by fraud, and compelled to marry Don Carlos; that she was a Subject of England, though his daughter in law; that he had no power to command or restrain her from going off the istand, and marrying whom She pleased. This So enraged the governor, that he told her, since he found that she had fo little sense of her honour, and respect for heir hushand’s vol. II E memory \ 74 The HISTORY OF memory and her children’s good, of his dying commands, he. would take care to keep her to her duty, and prevent her disgrace; that Leander was of too mean a rank to be received in the place of that noble Spaniard his dear fon, who was descended from an illustrious family, and had demeaned himself in marrying her; he had hitherto treated her for his sake with too much indulgence, which he perceived She had no grateful sense of; that young Dumarefque though a good friend to Leander, yet was a venturous fool to return thither on So vile an errand, as to bring love letters to another man’s wise, that he began to doubt whether his fon had died fairly, or not, and to suspect She had ^ by Some cur fed stow poison destroyed him, elfe they could not have known the time when it was fit to come to her, and knew She was a widow: in Short, he loaded her with bitter reproaches and taunts, and confined her to her apartment under a guard. Suffering miss Harriot Montague. 7^ lering none to go near her but Lavinia and Some Sew of her relations, who teased her continually with the respect Ihe owed her dead husband, and how She ought never to marry another inferior to him. The governor little fuspected his daughter was any ways concerned in young durnarefqiie’s welfare; but alas, She was as much afflicted as Harriot, and ventured to’ send Clara with a purse of gold to him. He would have sent a letter back but was denied pen, ink and paper. Clara lent him her table book, in which he wrote a most past lionate letter to Lavinia, declaring his love, and begging her to let the captain who brought him thither, be informed of what had happened to him, and sent back to Leander to warn him not to come thither. On the receipt of this letter, Lavinia dispatched Clara to the captain, who presently weighed anchor, and fet sail for, Virginia, to carry these joyful and tidings to Leander first that Harriot was a E 2 widow. 76 The HISTORY E widow, and next that his kinsman was in prison, and stie under a guard on his account. Leander in a Short time was insormed of all, the Ship coming fase to Virginia; and no persuasion of his uncle, aunt and friends could detef him from going over to the island, to demand his lady, and release his friend : but the captain of the Ship refused to go back, saying he was sure he stiould be imprisoned and lose his Ship. It was some months before he could get a vessel to carry him; during which the governor was informed by his spies of clara’s visits to young Dumareftjue in the prison. He caused him to be secretly removed to the old castle where he had been before a prisoner;; the commanding officer had such a strict charge given him to take care of him, that he was Secured from any possibility of an ef . cape, not being ever permitted to go on the battlements, but confined to a chamber with two sentinels at the door night and day, being relieved every four s Miss Harriot monta^ve. 77 four hours. The haughty governor having thus Secured him, laid wait to catch Leander, not doubting but he would Soon Sollow his friend, when he heard the news from the Virginia captain, of whose departure out of the port he had had intelligence and would have stopped the fhlp, which he had a good pretence for, it being a time of war between the English, French and Spaniards; but only he concluded it best to let it go to fetch Leander. Harriot fell stck, and Lavinia grew very melancholy and much altered; no news could be got of young du maresque. At length stie fell dange rousty ill, insomuch that her life was in danger, and being light headed, called perpetually on her lover. This opened the governor’s eyes, who finding She loved this stranger, lost all patience. She was now his only child, and all his ambitious hopes were coinprehended in her being nobly disposed of. The noblest and wealthiest gentlemen in the place made their addrestes to her, E 3 and 7s The HISTORY or and would have been proud of having her: but She was attached to a man whose father was only a merchant, married to a Second wife, by whom he had younger children to jenen his fortune; besides he was a protestant, and that alone was enough to make him reject the match; in fine, he was at his wits end; the physicians told him medicines could do no good, he must resign her to death, or bring the person to her whom She loved. This expedient was death to him, yet he could not consent to lose his darling, the lovely Lavinia; at last he Sent for young Dumarefque, who was brought pinioned under a guard like a criminal, and expected nothing but death; he had been sick a considerable time f an ague and fever, which was turned to a yellow jaundice. So that he was So altered, that his friends would Scarce have known him. Being brought tp the castle, and carried up into a room, the governor came to him with looks that exprested the inward distraction of Miss Harriet Montague. 7^ of his mind. Stranger, Said He, what would you do to gaiit .your freedom? nothing, he replied fiercely, that Should be injurious to my honour or conscience: I am now indifferent to. life, and would not thank Shat man who, having injured me. Should ask me pardon and release me; you may use me as you please, you have treated me fo ill already, that I expected neither justice nor favour from you. The governor could not but admire young dumarefque’s bravery in Secret, but yet Seemed angry; and answered, sir, do you confider whom you Speak to, and that your life is at my disposal?? I do, sir. Said dumaresque, and. have Spoke my thoughts. Well sir, said the governor, I acknowledge I have used you Somewhat roughly; but had you lost Such a Son as I have, killed by your friend’s rash attempt, ‘which has broke my fon’s heart and Harriot’s peace, you would doubtless have acted like me; but I have nowbut one daughter (here he wiped off the falling tears E 4 do «0 The HI ST OR Y OF do you respect her? young duma resque alarmed at these words, answered hastily, yes, and honour her above the world, nay dare to tell you that I love her, and that it is my greatest ambition to die at her feet, if fate would permit me; nor is there a thing on earth for which I would wish to live beside herself. For her sake answered the governor, you Shall not only live, but be freed. At these words he took him by the hand, and calling in a servant, who unbound him, he led him to lavinia’s chamber, who was fo weak that she had been many days confined to her bed. Here my dear child, said the governor, is the gentleman you fo much respect;; Shall leave you together. He was So disordered, being forced to stifle his resentments and constrain his pride, that he immediately withdrew. Lavinia lifting up her eyes, viewed young Dumarefque with much concern, unable to Speak, his altered face too well informed her of the treat ^ment he had met withal j whilst he feeing Miss Harriot Montaoi; e. Si feeing her, whom he So dearly prized, in a condition So unlikely to recover, fetched a deep sigh, and falling on his knees by the bed, catched her hand, and raising it to his lips. Said with a low voice, ‘ Must we then meet to part ‘ So Soon again, and must death de ‘ prive us of that happiness we might * now postess? Speak, divine creature, ‘ what hopes? “If, Said She, there is “a cordial to restore me to my health again, it is the sight of you, a bless“ “I despaired of. Say, does my “cruel fither relent, will he consent“ “make us happy? and has he granted you your liberty If So, I “will endeavour to live, ” At these words, he fell into a great transport;; the governor entering, said a great many obliging things to him. In fine, Lavinia in a Short time recovered, and was married to dumaresque, on his promising to reside there, and not return to Virginia to live. But poor Harriot, though glad of her lister’s good fortune, and pleased to converse with E 5 Dumarefque 4 s5 The HISTORY OF dumaresque, of whom stie learned all that had befallen the unfortunate Leander, yet could get no Satisfaction, or find means to go to him, the governor having took Such measures that no person could enter or go out of the Seaports without his knowledge. duma refquc could not as yet propose going to Virginia, but supposed his friend would Shortly arrive, and that his dear lavinia^s interest and his, with his father-in-law, was Sufficient to procure his content to the unfortunate leander’s marriage with Harriot. Thus they stattered themselves;; a Spaniard’s revenge must be gratified; and they never, or very rarely forgive an injury. Leander having procured a Vestel to carry him, and taking a considerable sum of money from his uncle. Set sail from Virginia, and arrived at the island of St. Domingo about a month after his kinfman’^s marriage. He no Sooner fet his foot upon the Shore, filled with expectations of teeing his dear Harriot but he was Seized by I Miss Harriot Montague. 83 by ruffians, bound band and foot, and carried aboard another strip, where he was put in irons, and Sailed the next morning, he knew not whither. The same night that he was Seized, the captain of the Ship that brought him, received a mestage from the governor to depart the island that moment, or expect to be treated as an enemy, and his Ship to be seized. He obeyed immediately, finding that neither threats nor entreaties could avail him. This news never reached harriot’s ear; and poor Leander, overwhelmed with dest pair, was carried up the great river Oroonoko, and seton stiore amongst the savages, being carried in a boat up to the river Paria, where he expected nothing but to be murdered, and eaten by the barbarous Indians, who dwelled in huts, and are under no civil government. Theyfpeak no language, but a jargon that no European understands. The cruel Spaniards unbound him, gave him a sword, a gun, and a horn of powder, with a pouch full of bullets 84 The HISTORY OF bullet and shot; telling him if he offered to make the least attempt to follow them, they would kill him on the spot. He little regarded what they Said, being bothxveak and over whelmed with the dreadful prospect he had before him of being left in a strange place, from whence there was no probability of escaping; a place which we Europeans are little acquainted withal amongst Savages, whose language and customs, he was an entire stranger to, that he sat down upon the ground, and casting his eyes round wept bitterly : then looking up to heaven, besought God to look upon him, and deliver him from the miseries of life. Whilst he was thus employed, the villains retreating to their boat were Set upon by a party of savages, about a hundred in number, many of whom fell by the spaniard’s shot, who discharged their guns and pistols at them, which obliged the Indians to give back. The Spaniards being but €%ht in number, and Some af them woun / Miss Harriot Mo ntagve. Wounded, retired towards the shore to get into their boat; but, to their great furprise, found it gone; for their companions that were left to take care of it, being Shot at with arrows by the Savages, who from the rocks Shot down upon them, concluded their companions dead, made off to their ship with all the speed they were able. The cruel Spaniards now too late repented the wicked deed they had done, and feeing death at hand, trembled at future punishments; despair urged them on, and they turned back and pursued their enemies, who fled before them to the place where poor Leander, roused with the noise of their guns and Swords, was standing as a man who was prepared for death, and unconcerned at whatever happened : but when they called to him to help them, crying forgive and join with us; Christianity, and the generosity of his great soul, made him forget the injuries they had done him; and like a lion roused from his den, fau # s6 The HISTORY OB fall on the Savages till they had all left the place. Then thinking it iinsafe to pnrsue them further, he advised the Spaniards to retreat towards the river under the covert of Some rock; they consented, and hasted thither, there they found a great cavern in the fide of a rock, into which they entered with joy, and being quite Spent, and three of them dangerousty wounded, they sat down on the ground to rest, destitute of food or any necestaries. That night the three wounded men expired; a admonition to the rest, who were conscious they deserved no less. They were now Sincerely penitent, and consnlted with Leander, whom they resolved to obey in all things, what was best to be done; they knew they could not live without provision, and though they hoped the boat would return to fetch them, yet that being uncertain, they must find some means to Subfish At last they resolved to go out of this dismal place before it was broad day, and if possible
Miss Harriot Montague, lible Seize upon one of the huts of the Savages, and Secure them, and So keep them as hostages, sending one at a time to fetch food for them, and by stgns threaten to kill the rest if northeast failed to return. They charged their firearms, and crept along the Shore till they came to a hut, into which they entered, and found two Savages, a woman, three children, and an European man, as his complexion Showed, asteep; they Seized the Savages, but for the white man, who appeared to be of a great age, he arose and embraced them, crosting himself; and lifting up his hands as a man overjoy’d, he Spake to them in the Latin tongue, desiring to know who they were and whence they came. T he Spaniards afraid to Speak the true cause coming thither. Said they were come on shore in their boat in Search * f water, and being Set upon by the Savages, had been detained there whilst the boat went off; those they left in it being as they Supposed frighted \ } • • 18 The HISTORY OF CD away by the noise of their guns. The old man Spoke to the Indians in their tongue, and they immediately fell at the spaniard’s feet, killing them, and bowing down their heads in token of obedience. The old man told Leander that he had lived twenty years in that country; that he was a Benedictine monk, born at Valladolid in Spain, and thence Sent to Peru, from whence he had travelled to this place by land; that he had learned the language of these Savages, and living amongst them, gained their esteem, and converted many to christianity;; these poor Savages were some of them, with whom he chose to live, being very honest people; that he would undertake they Should Supply all their wants, and be very serviceable to them; that the Savages they had fought with were the enemies of the prince that governed that part of the country, and used frequently to invade him, and carry off feme of his people, whom they eat, as Miss Harriot Montaovi. is his Subjects did them; but that now he had persuaded a great many from, doing it, and pretty well broke them of those barbarous customs. He then desired the Spaniards to sit down with him, and take some refreshment without fear. After which he Said he would conduct them to a place where they might live Securely, till he could find means to procure their return to theistand of St. Domingo or Virginia, offering to be their guide to cartha gena, from whence they iiiight get shipping to either place. Leander returned him a thousand acknowledgments, and in his soul greatly admired the providence of God, but wanted an opportunity to inform him of the spa nisti villainy in bringing him thither, and to warn him not to be too free in discovering any secret retreat to them, which he was desirous to conceal, though his countrymen; for though they appeared sincerely penitent, yet he feared to trust himself with them return to the istand of St, Domingo, refolv 90 The HISTORY F refblving to go to Virginia, and not venture to go there any more; concluding in himself, that if harriot’s affection for hina continued sincere, She would, now being a widow, find means to get away and come to him thither; and that if at his return to Virginia, he could hear nothing of her nor his dear friend, he would apply to the spanish Vice roy at Mexico for justice; and being a native of France, he doubted not of obtaining it, stnce France and Spain were at peace. He and the rest sat down with the good monk; the poor Savages, who were by profestion fishermen, fet bread and cold drested fish before them, with Some meat and broth which they had boiled the day before for the humble priest and themselves;; they had warmed over a fire which they made in the hut with a few stones Set in form of a hearth, with a hole made in the ground, setting the pot on the stones, and making a fire underneath: they gave miss Harriot Montague. 91 gave them also drink and rum, which greatly refreshed them. Leander whispered the monk that he wanted to Speak with him alone; he took the hint, and after eating, advised the spaniard’s to lie down on the clean straw which the poor Savages had laid for them in one corner of the hut, the only bed he and they had used to lie upon; there, Said he, “ you may repose yonrfelves,. wshilfi your leader and I discourse. They readily complied glad to take some rest. Whilst he and Leander walked over the hill, they descended into a fine valley, at the bottom of which was a little kind of copse or thicket, composed of stately tall trees and close quickset hedges. By the way Leander told him his story; the monk detesting their baseness, told him he should return no more to them, but abide with those that he had placed in that little cell to which he was going to carry him : there you will find. Said he, a gentleman and lady whose conversa
• * 4 92 The HISTORY OF verfation will make you think the timi no way tedious whilst you stay here it is a month since they were cal away upon this Shore, and by m means, through the mercy of God pfeserved as you have been. I bean a dreadful storm in the dead of th night, and walking out on the flor fo soon as daybreak to see what mil chief that night had done, dil cerned at some distance two women one richly drested, the other like he Servant, wringing their hands, an( lamenting over a person who lay oj the sands, as I supposed, dead; th lady exprested the most extravagan concern that ever I beheld. I madi what haste I could to their astistance and at my approaching her was ex tremely surprised; She was young anc fair as an angel, her hair was hanging loose, and wet as was her habit, bu She had a necklace and pendants o diamonds, with a stomacher tha dazzled my eyes; She was drested ir a. Spanish dress, her vest was blad velvet miss Harriot Montaguk. Velvet, her petticoat gold tiftue, bracelets of pearl; and in fine, I never Saw a person of greater beauty, or who appeared more like a woman of quality than the distressed Ravina, for that is her name; the man that lay at her feet as dead, appeared her equal in all kinds; he was young, handsome, richly dressed, and seemed just drowned. I staid not to deliberate, but list ted him up, saying in Spanish, which I supposed She spoke, God comfort and help you, sweet lady, has this gentleman been here in this condition any time? Oh no. Said She, he is just Cast upon the Shore. Then Said I, there is hopes; I immediately turned his head downwards, and a great deal of water poured out of his mouth, he strewed Some Signs of life. Having thus given his stomach Some relief by this discharge of water, I Set him upright on the ground, chafed his temples, and taking a little bottle of rack, which I always carried about me, poured Some down his throat; in fine, I brought y # ^4 The HISTORY OF I brought him to life, and She ai the maid, her Servant, aflisting, V brought him into this little wood which we are going, a place whicl had chosen to make me a little orato in, and had caused my converted S vages to build with Some boarc making me a kind of little chaps with an altar, and a chamber or dc mitory behind it to repose in, in t heat of the day. Here I used to pt form the holy duties of my office, baptise, and give the blessed euch riff, having under the altar a way in a little vault, where I keep poor ve: ments and what else belcngs to t] altar. I brought them to this plac fearing the jewels She had on, ai her beauty, might tempt the Savag to Some wickehnefs; for Should tl savage prince Manca, who gover this part of this barbarous countr hear of or get sight of this fair E ropean, he would have her for 1 brntish pleasure in Spite of all intre: ties or resistance j therefore 1 Secure h t Miss Harriot Mont AGUE, tier here, where file has remained a whole month concealed. Her adventures, and the brave Bellarlo her huff bands, you Shall know from themselves: in this place and company I will leave you, and at my return to your companions, tell them a wild beast came out of a wood and devoured )ou, fo send them away by the first opportunity, and I will dif gnife and conduct you, Ravinia, her husband and servant, to Carthagena, from whence we will go together for Europe, or where you please; for i am weary with living amongst Savages, and having but a little time more to live in the world, am defiroiis to Spend it in my convent amongst my countrymen and friends, who may lay me to rest when dead amongst my ancestors. The harci ihips I have endured for twenty years in this place, have fo broke my con ‘stitution, that I am not able to hold it much longer. By this time they were come to the wood, and ending their A The HISTORY Of their discourfe, the monk presentci Leander to the gentleman and hi lady, who being acquainted with hi adventures, embraced and welcome( him to their poor habitation, overjoy ed that they should have Such cempa ny, and promised to go with him t Virginia, and procure him all the Sa tissa<5iion he could desire of the gc vernor of the island of St. Domingc Ravina being the Vice roy daughter. But words cannot express Lean der’s surprise at the first sight of thef strangers; he thought Ravina fo beau tiful, that She excelled all her sex her air, her Shape, dress and face and the gloominess of the place fh’ was in, filled him with an unufua veneration and refpe<5i for her. Bel lario was tall, finely shaped, and ha( a majestic sweetness in his look tha commanded the respect and gainet the love of all that Saw him. They Servant was a young Italian maid who though of an olive complexion was very agreeable, well shaped, ant hac Miss Harriot Montague. 9^ had eyes So black and Shining, that it was dangerous to look upon them. The monk used to Send them provisions by this girl, whose name was Philinda,. having been christened by Ravina who took her when a child, and had brought her up. Philinda went every morning to the hut to fetch Such poor food as the monk could procure for them; they drank water from an adjacent Spring, had Some poultry that they kept in the wood to Supply them with flesh and eggs, there being plenty of fowl in ■ those parts, as iikewife roots: the country being not very well peopled, they lay on straw; and there growing very good grapes in the valleys, they had hung some up to dry in the fun Upon the hedges, and Squeezing the juice out of others, drank of it instead of wine.” Thus life great people, who had been used to all the delicacies in nature, and had never stepped but upon down, and used to have the finest clean linen every day, were now vol, II F con 9s The HISTORY OF content to live in the poorest manner, and Sound that it was postible to live without all those things that a plentiful Sortune surnishes. The monk having thus introduced Leander, and stayed Some time with them, took leave; and then Leander being in treated, entertained them with a more particular account of his life and adventures. After which Bellario returned the favour with the relation of his and Ravina, being Seated under a fine Spreading tree near the door of their cottage, it being now the close of the day, and a fine evening, phi linda being very near them milking two tame ihe goats which the monk had Sent thither, and were of great Service to them. They being all Seated commanding on the lest fide a fine view of the river Oroonoko, which discharged itself into the Sea fronting them, and on the right, a fine range of cedar trees : in this delightful place Bellario began his relation in these words: I stiould first relate my Mist Harriot Montague. 9a my dear Ravinast birth, and Speak of her family. She was the only daughter of the marquis of Castille, who is descended of one of noblest families in Italy, though born a Spaniard: her mother was daughter of Don Lorenzo, lord of Placentia, a Castilian lord of great merit and fortune. The marquis being a great favourite to the king of Spain, was appointed vice roy of the Indies in the year 1692, at which time Ravina was thirteen years of age. He arrived Safely at Mexico the Same year with all his family, and has resided there ever since, which is now ten years, I am the Son of Don Alvares de Mendoza, an Arragonian lord, a man of equal birth and fortune with ra vina’s father; but there was a mortal hatred between our two families, by reasonof a fatal accident thathappened in my infancy: my father had a lister, who was esteemed one of the fairest and most accomplished young ladies in Spain; She was but fifteen when my father brought her to court; there a F 2 young 100 The HISTORY OF young Castilian cavalier, who was a colonel of the guards, and nephew tora vina’s father, saw and fell in love with my aunt, who was already promised to a lord of the first quality and fortune in Arragon : he courted her privately by means of a Servant, who was in his interest; and having gained my aunds affection, at length obtained the last favour. It was not long after this unhappy converse had been between them, before the lord to whom She was promised arrived, and She was constrained to marry him: he suspecting her virtue, being sensible She was no virgin, became furioufiy jealous; yet concealed his thoughts from her and all the world, resolving to stay till he had discovered the happy rival that had been beforehand with him, before he let his resentments break forth: for these reasons he gave her opportunities of feeing her lover, carrying her down to a country seat not far from Madrid, which he had Fought since his marriage, under pretence of obliging her, but indeed with design ‘ miss Harriot Montague, ioi design to discover the fatal Secret. Here he often left her for a night or ^vo, whilst he went and stayed at Madrid ‘ with the king; the unfortunate Don Lorenzo (her lover) failed not to Supply his place in her arms, going disguised to a peafant’s house at a village near, from whence (attended only by one Servant) he entered the gardens, and went into her apartment by a ladder of ropes, which She used to fasten for him on a balcony that opened into her chamber. Her lord (the incensed ar ragonian)foon discovered all by means of a page whom he had employed to watch; and one night he concealed himself in a fummer house in the garden, having only this page with him, both well armed; and the moon Shining very bright, saw Don Lorenzo go into her chamber by the ladder, which he left hanging in order to his retreat, as usual. He stayed till he supposed he was undrest and gone to bed; then he mounted the ladder, followed by his page, and coming into the chamber, F 3 where 102 The HISTORY OF where a wax light was burning on the table, approached the bed Ibftly. Don Lorenzo havingheard Some little noiscj was started up, and Sat upright in the bed : This gave the enraged husband a fair opportunity for his revenge, he stabbed him to the heart with his dagger; the poor lady Shrieking out, he tore her out of bed by the hair, cut out her tongue, and discharging one of his pistols in her face, which he had loaded with small bird shot on purpose, left her on the bed blind, her eyes and face being in a most dreadful condition, all tore to pieces, and full of the stiot. Never was a more tragic Scene than this chamber appeared; She looked like the wronged Calistst, and the unfortunate Lorenzo lay weltering in his blood, expiring on the floor. Thus one imprudent flnfui action Gceafioned the riin of three noble ac complistted pershns; nay, involved their families in the greatest misfortunes, and have intailed them upon their posterity; the first ground of which miss Harriot Montague. 103 V which was the ladies parents, who not consulting her inclination, matched her against her will; want of a firm virtue in her made her yield to another, when She was pre engaged by them * and an unchristian Spirit of revenge governed her husband, and made him commit two dreadful murders, and incur the anger of heaven, and the justice of the laws : which though he escaped by slight and his prince’s favour, yet it ruined his peace and fortune. I hope it will be a war^ ning to all who hear this dismal story, to avoid the like crimes. The dis tracted husband having thus difchar – ged his fury, thought of his own Safety; and taking Some gold and his wife’s jewels out of a cabine, in that room, descended the ladder, and attended by his page, went out of another gate than that by which his rival had entered; and mounting his horse, which he had left therewith his page, they rode away as Swift as postible to a place twenty miles farther, where F 4 he • ‘ 104 The HISTORY of he took flielter in a. convent of be nedidhne monks. Don lorenzo’s gentleman finding his master stayed longer than usual, grew nneasy, and quitting his horse ventured up the ladder, thinking he rnight be asleep; but entering the room, he was filled with Such horror and amazement, that he alarmed all the Servants with the outcries he made. The poor lady was not dead; She was such an objecst as would have excited compastion in the heart of a barbarian. It was easy to guess the cause of all these dreadful deeds, had the gentleman not revealed them by his lamentations over his dead lord; but he concealed nothing in his pastion, but too well explained the ladies crime and his master’s. e Not to detain you longer on So a subject, a Surgeon being fetched, the poor lady was put into bed, and her face drested, but there being little appearance of her recovery, which indeed would have been a greater misfortune
s miss Harriot Montague. 105 fortune to her than death, her confefibr was Sent for, who prayed for her, and gave her all the Spiritual comfort he was able; and though She could not speak, yet by signs She testified her repentance. He stayed with her many hours, till finding the anguish of her wounds and loss of blood took away her senses by a strong fever, he left her to the care of her Servants, and asiisted Don lorenzo’s gentleman to remove his master’s body into a hearse the Servants had brought to carry him to his own house at Madrid. Then he returned to the lady, to whom he administered the last rites of the church, and about four in the morning She expired. I need, not tell you how enraged my father, and all our family, was ‘ against the cruel Alvares, when this story was known; nor were Don Lorenzo ’s friends less afflicted : but alvares’s family did ail that was pof sible to obtain his pardon of the king, pleading the enormity of her crime, “p r q nf”! o The HISTORY OF and the justice of bis procedure; and that he could do no less than Sacrifice both her and her paramour to repair his honour; that the injury was unpardonable in both; that the cruelty he had exercised on his lady was excufa blo, considering the greatness of the provocation. In fine, they fald all they could in his defence, whilst her family and Don lorenzo’s used all their interest against him, and were fo potent, that though the king was inclined .to forgive and only banish him, yet he deferred to declare himself, and fo gave him time to get off with much wealth, having sold off Secretly and made conveyances of his estate, before a process could be got out against him : however, he was fried and condemned, when he was got out of the reach of the laws. My grandmother broke her heart for her unfortunate daughter. ravina’^s father and family, and mine, though they joined in prosecuting Don Alvarez, yet conceived a mortal aversion to one anor miss Harriot Montague, 107 another, and much blood was Spilled on both fides by duels and rencounters; fo that Some few years after the king honoured her father with this great post in the Indies, to prevent a farther effusion of blood and quarrels. I was too young at this fatal jundiure, when these misfortunes happened; but ra vina and I growing older, my soul was charmed with her beauty; and though I could see no hopes of ever gaining her’s or her father’s consent, yet I could not forbear loving, or desist from pursuing her : my quality and fortune made way, and having nothing to urge against me but a family difference, the charming Ravina consulting reason and religion, saw the folly and injustice of that procedure, and gave ear ta my persuasions: At last She ge laeroufly confested a pafifion for me, and promised to he mine provided I could gain her fathers consent. I then applied to my father, who acquainted the king with our mutual affection, and pleading that this was the only way f 108 The HISTORY? way to reconcile the two Samilies, and put an end to that fatal strife that had been of such ill consequences to both, prevailed With his majesty to propose it to elvira’s father; but he delaying to give a positive answer, having before obtained the viceroystiip, went off without it, and fo obliged me to follow him. I obtained a letter from the king, in which he even commanded him to give me Ravina, and let our marriage be forthwith consummated my family and hers all joined in this, and I departed Spain with a whole packet full of letters to this effedf. I was certain of not being refused now, stnce he did not dare to disoblige or disobey the king. I arrived Safely at Mexico, and was well received according to my expedsation, and Soon after married to my dear Raviiia : and now being completely happy, we studied how to divert ourselves, and take all the innocent diversions the land and sea afforded; being at a plea litre hotife of the governor’s on the ‘’ lake. miss Harriot Montague, ioo lake, we went aboard a yatch one evening to take the air upon the Sea, it being fine weather, and resolved to Spend the night in nrirth and pleasure. We had Several ladids and gentlemen with ns, with music. We Supped, danced, and were very merry; but about midnight a terrible storm blew, after having been tosted about many days and nights, not knowing where we were, we were driven upon a bank of fand near this Shore. Here we lay bulging till Such time as the yatch was torn to pieces, then every one Shifted for himself: Ravina and our friends were got into the boat, I placed myself near to her, resolving to bear her to. shore, if postible, on my back, in cafe the boat should not hold out the f orm to the shore, as it happened, for it was Soon Swallowed up in the waves L I catched fast hold of her, bidding her throw her arms about my neck; and it being now day, I made for the shore which I Saw before me; but my strength being almost Spent before I could » t no The HISTORY Of could reach it, just as I Selt the lane under my Sect I fainted; Ihe laying hold of me, pulled me up and Savec me. Philena having got hold of t plank that was floating, being part o: the sti’p, to which she clung very fast was by the providence of God Saved and the wind blowing directly to the Shore, She was thrown upon the fand; before us, and feeing my distress and ravina’s, ran to her astistance, whe had otherwise perished with me. The) dragged me on Shore out of the read of the waves, which would have washed us away; there the good father came to our relief. Thus the divine providence has preserved our live? and yours in a miraculous manner, and will, I hope, furnish us with means to return to our homes in health and Safety. Thus don Bellaries ended his relation, and they pasted a few days as agreeably as the difmalnefs of their abode would permit, the monk visited shem every day, when the Savages were miss Harriot Montague, iir were gone a fishing. One evening the monk returning home. Saw Some white men, who appeared to be Europeans by their habit, sitting round a fire boiling a pot on the Shore; their firearms being muskets, lay by them. He Saw that a pinnace lay on the Shore, and discerned the strip lying at anchor about hals a league off: he made signs to them to permit him to come near; they answered, and he hasted to them, and found they were come from the istand of St. christopher’s, and bound to Spain: He told them of the Spaniards that he had saved, and prevailed with them to take them orr board their Ship; he went and called them, and they were overjoyed to get thence,, and meet with such a lucky opportunity; and the monk thanked God that he was rid of them, being uneasy whilst they were on that Shore, lest they Should discover his concealed friends whom he dearly esteemed, but these he ab horred, as being villains,. They went 2.WZS II The HISTORY OF away that night, returning man thanks to him, and Seeming vei Sorry that Leander was not still alh to go with them; but hoping in then Selves, as it afterwards proved, th whensthey got to the istand of St. D mingo, the revengeful governor wou reward them highly, designing tell him that they had disposed him in the woods, where he h: been devoured by the wild beaf The glad monk carried the good net of their departure to his friends t next morning. Now they consult about getting to Carthagena; by lai it was very dangerous, and by I very difficult; for they had the Sages to fear as they travelled, a: dreadful mountains and woods to p; through; no boat of strength suffi ent to carry them, and not provifi enough for a voyage of fo many ds at sea; and what was worse, no pi to guide the vestel, if they had h one. In fine, they knew not wl course to take : at last they refolv Miss Harriot Montague. 113 to venture to cross the great river Oroonoko in the Savages fishing boat. This being resolved, trusting to providence, they .prepared to go; but the night before they were to depart, they Saw a man running down the adjacerit hill, pursued by a fierce tiger: he had a drawn Sword in his hand, and a strange fashioned coat made of beasts Ikins : he had no Shoes or stockings, but pieces of bears skins tied about his legs with twigs; his head had a strange fur cap on; his face they could Scarce distinguish, till coming into the wood, he climbed up a tree, and the beast pursuing him to the foot of it, lean der, who had fetched a gun, Shot it dead, having perceived the man was a white, and his countenance no Indian. No sooner was the beast killed, but the man leapt down from the tree, and ran to embrace his benefactor, whose surprise cannot be expressed when he saw his face, and heard him call him by his name, and knew it was the honest captain of the Ship who II The HISTORY of who lived at Virginia, and had carried him and his friend Dumarefquc to the island of St. Domingo. Elvira and her dear Bellario, who were retired at the strangecs approach, hearing them talk, came forth, and invited him in, being together in the hermitage, for that was properly the name of their cell: they alked him to eat, a favour he gladly accepted of; Phrlena fet what proviiions they had before him, as cold fowl, goats milk, bread, dried grapes, and water, and wine made of their juice; a noble feast to a man who had lived for above five weeks on roots and fruits. Such as the woods produced, and had not tasted any dressed food, neither bread, meat nor fish. Being much refreshed, he related to them the manner of his coming thither. I was going on a voyage for Some merchants, said he, to Barbados about six weeks ago, my Ship being heavy laden with goods for that place, at which I was to unload, and take in others Miss Harriot Montague, bthers for other ifiands : I had a Sair gale of wind and good voyage, till I came near the Summer iflands; then a storm arose and drove the Ship up this river, where it was dashed to pieces against Some rocks, amongst Some unknown, and I suppose uninhabited istands. I had but eight men and a boy aboard, two of whom were blown off the Shrouds into the Sea: ihose that were left got out the boat, and we quitted the Shattered vestel, which was full of water above the first deck, and committed ourselves to the mercy of God. The night was dark as pitch, and we knew not which way to steer. At last the boat, unable to hold out against the dreadful waves that bore her up to the Skies one moment, and then opening. Seemed to fink her into the bottomless deep, the wreck being filled with water by a great Sea that washed over her, sunk; and then we gave ourselves over for lost, and were ail Separated, never to meet again in this world, I fear. Nature J ii The HISTORY OF ture taught me, though hopeless, to if^uggle for life; and it being jufi break of day, I difeerned the Shore, and made for it; the wind sitting fair, helped me greatly. At last I reached it half dead, and sitting down on the fide of a rock to recover myself, looked round to see where I was, and soon found that I was cast on this inhospitable Shore, where I must expest to be devoured either by men or beasts; this made me almost repent that I had escaped drowning. I had no arms nor food, and my soul being full of horrible apprehensions of the, Cannibal savages, I sought for a place to hide myself in, and looking about, crept into a hole in a great rock, not far from that on which I sat down; and being quite spent with the fatigue of the past night, I fell into a profound steep, out of which I was awakened some hours after by two Savages, who were stripping me, and had already gpt my shoes and stockings; but going to pull off my coat and waistcoat, which Miss Harriot Montague, which they could not do without lifting me up, I awakened, and looking up, caught one of them by the throat; and wrenching this Sword out of his hand, he broke from me, carrying away my clothes, which he held fo fast that he tore my coat and waistcoat off as he broke from me, and they both fled wdth incredible celerity. I was now left almost naked, and fearing they would return wdth more Savages, and fall upon me, I fled up into the woods, not knowing where else to hide myself, but amongst the trees and bushes. And now being ready to faint with hunger, I searched about for wild fruits and roots, and eat whatever 1 could find, which, alas! instead of satisfying my hungry, ^ stomach, made me sick. I sat in a. y >* T tree all that night, and the next day fo soon as it was light, crept down to the Shore, to see if I. could espy a boat, or any of my stiilors who might have escaped like me to the Shore; and there, to my great surprise, I saw my 11^ The history Of my boat lying on the Sands, and was fansported to find her there, thinking I might get off with her the next tide, and reach Some of our ifiands. So Soon as the wa ter stowed, and the Sea com ing in, fet her astoat; I ran down, and leaping into her, steered her by the rudder along the shore, but Sound I was not able to govern her at Sea: I wanted strength and more hands, had neither oars nor Sails, yet I Seared to lose her; and finding I could not venture out with her, I resolved, if postible, to Secure her in Some place where the Savages should not find her, in hopes that I might meet with Some Christians here whom chance had broiight, like me, to this Barbarous land, who would be glad to escape hence, and astfist me to get away in her. I borough the boat accordingly. along the shore, till I came to a kind of a creek. So covered with trees, that it was almost impostible to perceive anything that lay there. I brought hex into this creek, at the end of miss Harriot Montague, iio of which was a very thick wood; and having hailed her on stiore, broke down a great many of the green branches of the trees, and made a kind of bower over it, fo that it lies quite covered; I have lain aboard it every night since: I have every day ranged about for foocl, and lived chiefly on the eggs of the sea fowl and turtles, which I found in the rocks and OH the Sands, nor did I dare attempt to make a fire to dress anything, for fear of discovery, foi sustained life by sucking them, and eating turtles raw, laying the flesh in the fun till it was hot, and then I eat it as favorily as if it had been the greatest dainty in the world. I knew not what to do for clothes, but one day finding two bears cubs in a wood, I killed and stead them, hanging their steins on the hedges to dry, these I made into the strange fashioned coat I have on : I killed some young goats also, and eating the stefh, made me a cap and fpatterdashes with the skins, as you see. But no The HISTORY of But I must now acquaint you with the most Surprising accident that ever befell any man living. One morning roaming about a wood, I met with a young woman fair as Venus, but pale as death; She was wrapped in a piece of Sailcloth, having nothing under but a fine Holland stiift, a white dimity petticoat and waistcoat, and no headclothes, but her hair, which was the finest light brown, hung in curls down to her waist; but all this was hid under her canvas wrapper; she Seemed half famished, and was fo surprised at the sight of me, supposing me a Savage, that she ran away from me as fast as she was able. I followed her till she ran into a cave, into which I entered, and getting hold ofher, spoke in English, ashing her who she was, and of what nation. She Seemed Surprised to the last degree, and Said, pray do not kill or be rude with me; I am a poorimfortunate maid, Said she, whoby cruel guardians was trepanned and Sent away for Jamaica; but our ship being drove Mil Harriot Montague. 121 drove on this coast, was lost, and I with one young man, who was the captain’s kinsman, were Saved on this unhappy coast: here we lived together for three days, but the fourth, going out of the cave as usual to seek for food, he never returned, and is I fear murdered. I have lived in this dismal place two months, all alone, under the most dreadful apprehensions imaginable, almost famished and pinched with cold and damps; not daring to go far from my cave for fear of meeting the Savages, I was charmed with her tears, and pierced to the soul with her condition. I told her my story, and begg’d her to go along with me, and live in the boat, promising to protect her with my life, and provide her with Such food as I coiild get; nay more, that I would offer no rude ness to her. She, with some difficulty, yielded to my request, fbi conducted her to my bower, and we vol. II G have 1 ; i 2 The HISTORY OF have liv’d together three weeks, I left her there about two hours since, when going out for food, I met with the ravenous beast you kill’d, and fear’d to retreat towards my boat least he should foljow and fright her or having got the feent of food, , Some bones and remains of turtle which we could not eat, being scatter’d up and down. Surprise her ia my absence; for these reasons I drove him over the hill, led by the providence of God doubtless to this place. Ahd now with your leave, I will. haste and fetch my dear Polly, whom 1 have promis’d to make my wife fo soon as I reach a Christian Shore: She is in pain for my return, I am certain. You shall make your promise good to her. Said le ander, tomorrow morning; we have here a worthy Christian priest who Shall marry you; and Since you have a boat able to carry us all, he Shall ftirnish us with provisions suffi A cient S miss Harriot Montaoue. 123 « dent for a voyage to one of the Summer islands, from whence we may get a Ship to carry us to Virginia, and thence to what other place we think fit. The captain hasted to fetch the lady, who in less than an. hour reach’d the Hermitage, and was joyfully receiv’d by Bellario, Leander, and Ravina; who never Saw Such a figure as She appear’d, wrapp’d in her canvas stiroud, for Such it feem’d j a habit which very ill suited her beautiful face and charming mien. After eating together with thankful hearts, as - much transported at this meeting as if they had forgot their misfortunes, they laid them down to steep on straw, having recommended themselves to God; and rested sweetly, having no load of guilt upon their consciences, biit minds re fign’d to the Supreme Disposer of all things. Next morning the monk visited them, and was entertain’d . ‘ G 2 with / j24 The H I S T O R y of with the history of these new guests, whom he immediately marry’d; saying, My children, it is not fit that you Should live in sin; and Since the necestity of your condition obliged you to live together, and a too near intimacy has I find enfisd, it is fit that you Should be join’d by the holy bonds of matrimony, that none amongst us may incur god’s anger, but that blesstngs may attend us. And now they thought of nothing but preparing for their departure from this place. The monk inform’d the honest Savages, whom he offer’d to take along with them, and they executed his commands with Such alacrity, that he was surpriz’d. In three days they got out the boat and vidluard her, carrying aboard boil’d fowls, Salted fish, and store of ‘, bread, with freshwater in jars. The Savage and his Son made oars, well understanding the management O O of a boat, and fasten’d their own fifher boat miss Harriot Montague. 12^ fisher boat to her loaded with pro vhions; they were perfedfly Skiird in all the turnings and rocks in this great river, knowing every island and bank of Sand; but when out at Sea, the Virginia captain must direct them. All things being ready, our joyful Christians went on board, and the three w’ornen and children lay down in the boat, being cover’d over with Some boughs of trees; the monk, Leander, the captain, and and savages rowed and steered the boat, having made sails of what ‘O ^ V the pocr savages procured. They pasted Safely out ot the river; and being at Sea, steered for Barbados, which they reached in a few days, having a fair wind and fine weather: they were well received by a merchant there, who was the captain’s friend, and Soon got a pastage to Virginia; Bellario, and Ravina, with their maid Philena, going with them, beeause they could get no Ship to G 3 carry % 126 The HI S TO R y OP carry them to Mexico by reason of the war. When they arrived at Virginia, Leander had the agreeable news, that his kinsman had in his absence Sent a bark with letters for him from himself and Harriot, to ac <]uaint him that the Governor was dead, and that they designed to Sell off all their effcdts in the iffand of St, Domingo, and come for Virginia, leaving only harriot’s two children behind, whom her hushand’s friends would not part with. He w, asso transported with this news that he could hardly be persuaded to wait her coming, but would fain have gone to fetch her; but four days after hisarrival, she and Lavinia, with his faithful friend, arrived with an immense treasure. Never was amore moving sight than the meeting of these three persons; Leander, clasping his dear Harriot, in his arms, stood motionless, as if he meant to die in that posture, and that his ravished Soul would make its, I miss harpviot Montagite. i2’7 ks way out ot his panting bosom info hers. His eyes Seemed, fixed on her Sace, the big drops escapiug. them, whilst fiery love Sparkled in his eyeballs, as if the raging flame within Sent forth those crystal drops: She hung upon his neck, and cry’d, ‘ Do Hive, and again See ‘ Leandei! Blessed God, it is enough’ Mean time dumarcsqne waked them from this biisssnl dreamy Saying,. ‘ My fiiend, .my kinsman, have you
- me.? And must Lnot claim ‘ a Second embrace after Harriot has received your first.?’ At these words Leander, - turned,, and catched him in his arms; saying, ‘ My dearest ‘ friend, next to mv dear Harriot
- yon are dear to me : the gbliga ‘ tions rhave to you are So great,.
- that words cannot; e^press the ‘ grateful sense 1 have of them, nor ‘ my whole life Suffice to make re ‘ turns to you and her, tho’ wholly ^ employed in your’service.’ Lean
G 4;. der’s’
4
‘128 The HISTORY of
, der’s uncle and his lady interrupted them, or doubtless they had never known when to leave off this tender conversation. Leander was So irn patient to secure his happiness; that he never gave over importuning Harriot till She consented to marry him that very night; and the monk accordingly wedded them, and they were mutually pleased: : what greater satissadtion can mortals attain in this life, than to poffess the person they ardently love, especially when they have So long languished for one another, and been So long feparated.f* this IS a pleasure none but lovers can have a true notion of. Eternal bliss ■is comprehended in this one thing. Viz. to poilcts all we desire, or is worthy our afsecstion; and whilst we are mortal, and on this fide the grave, nothing can equal the pleasure ospostesting the person we love. Bellario and Ravina were Sliarers of their friends good fortune, and were
dcfi rolls
missjflarriet Montague. 129
desirous to continue with them Some months, with the monk, who re solved to go with Leander and his dear Harriot to France; they offering to provide Sorhim So long as he pleased to stay there.
During their residence at Virginia, they ^ast the time very agreeably together : leander’s uncle and his lady, who still retained an affesfion for Leander, entertained them very nobly; and Harriot, who was now a Sincere Roman Catholic, prevailed with the monk to be her chaplain, and to promise to continue with her the rest of his days: they took all the diversions the place afforded, walking, riding, dancing, and feasting One evenin.q; Harriot in treated the monk to relate the ad ventures of his life : certainly. Said She, they must be very extraordinary, since you have pasted thro’ So many countries. He, Smiling, answered, Yes, Madam, I have met with many
G 5 strange
130 The H I ST ORY OF
strange accidents, and am ready to
oblige you and the company with the relation of them; nay, I will own my weaknestes, and give yon the story of my youthful follies. They all sat down under the Shade of Some trees on the banks ofa little rivulet by which they were walking; and being all filent, he began his narrative thus.,
I was born in Valladolid in Spain, my father was a grandee of a noble family, but having been refused a a post at court, to which he believed himsclf to shave a right, he too freely Spoke his thoughts, and gave his enemies an opportunity to traduce him to the kin, whose favour he lost, and So retired in discontent to hia own seat at Valladolid. I was all the children he had, and designed to be the heir of his honours and fortune. I was a student at a col lege about sixteen, when it was my
misfortune to. See a farmer’s daughter,.
%
miss Ha rrtot Mo nta o it..
ter, whose beauty made me her captive. Lstole out alone into the fields behind her sather’s house
t
every evening fora month together ‘ before I Spoke to her; and there Saw her playing with the lambs, and i feeding the young goats; her plain dress and innocent behaviour, made. her look more charming in my eyes •
than gold and diamonds; her beauty’ and modesty were irresistible, and t loved’ her’ to ■ distraction.. 1st’
y
fine, 1 Spoke to her; told her my pastion, and found her wit and apprehension exceeded her face and years.. I Succeeded according to my wishes; gained her love, and resol ved to marry her; but being note old enough to be master of myself,, and having no fortune in my power,.. Lwas’forced to defer doing it till I!
was of age, and had got Some settlement
in the world : for these reasons I pursned my studies with grei tt application, reviving to be a phyfi
G 6^ oian^
332 The HISTORY of
cian or lawyer, that I might Soon be able to provide for myself, In the mean time I promised my dear Alicia to maintain her as my wife, and accordingly paid her father the half of the pension, my father allowed me, for her board; bought her silk petticoats, ribbons and laces; So that I half starved myself, and grew very penurious in my own expenses to provide for her; and stie soon grew to be So fine, and So like a lady in her air and behaviour, that the farmers daughters, and other country maids envied her, talked loudly of this strange alteration; which, with my continual visits at her father’s, tho’ I thought none observed me, confirmed their fuspicions of her being a mistress to me. This report soon reached the principal of the college’s ear, and he had me watched, and Sent my father word, who immediately Sent for me home, and Scolded me Sharply, commanding
miss Harriot Montague. 13
ing; me to declare the truth; on which I ingenuoussy confened my engagements with Alicia, and declared boldly, that I would marry her or die. This So enraged my sa there, to See his ambitious hopes thus crossed in me also, that he proceeded to threats: in Short, he was very Severe with me, put me into the hands of a rigid tutor, who kept me as a prisoner ever in his sight. I was now eighteen, and sancy’d myself a man Sufficient to manage myself. alicia’s father was threatened, and turned out of his farm and livelihood by my father’s instigation, who was a true Spaniard in his resentments. Poor Alicia, who was now looked on as the ruin of her family, was drove to despair; she Sent many letters to me, but none came to my hands; my father intercepted them all. She and her poor father and mother were retired to a village
twenty miles further, and had there
got
134 tke, HTST O R Y m .‘
■”n
got into a; little farm where theyc could’|ust get bread I Sell lick with the distradion of my mind, and was like to die; but youth; and medicines recovered me, or rather the providence of God; which reserved me for other nses. So Soon as L was able to creep abroad, I went into the fields with my cruel tutor, andre- – to try to make my escape, let the consequence be what it would; but knowing that without money L Should be no ways helpful to Alicia,, or be able to travel far without discovery, L consulted what course to take, and at last concluded to rob my cruel ambitious fatheiy whose strong box was never without a good Sum of gold in it, stood in a closet in his chamber, and it was impostlble for me to get at it but by going in at the ■ window from the garden. I revolved in my mind many days what to do, before I could find whatcourfe.. to take 5. at last Lthought of an expedient;
f
mlss Harriot Montaogr.
pedient, which was this: my tutor [ay with me, I plied him with wine at Supper, So I rose in the night when he was fast asteep, clapped a. gag in his mouth, tied his hands and feet with my garters, tho’ not without: much struggling and Some noise.. tho’ I had made all ready before I went to bed, ’’and fastened his hands
^ A. i
Co the bed post before he stirred, yet when I went to lie his feet, he waked, and opening his mouth to Speak, L clapp’d the gag, which was a piece of hard wood,, between his teeth. stretching his jaws sufficiently, yet: he roared strangely, till I threatened to kill him with my penknife, which ‘ silenced him, for he was a great coward : then I got down from my chamber window by a vine that’ grew against the wall; and finding,; a ladder which the gardener always left in a green house, the door of which I broke open, I Set it against my fathers clofet window, and”
went
136 The HISTORY OP
went in, taking the strong box, which was not above two Soot and a half Square, but very heavy. I hasted down with it, and Set the ladder against the garden wall, which I got over, and stood Some minutes consuiting which way to go; and considered that if I was taken, my father would not hurt me farther than to chide and lock ms up : I was but weak, and could not go far. So I made towards a river, where there used to be a ferryboat constantly, thinking to offer the old ferryman, who knew me, a piece of gold if he would carry me over, and convey my box for me to Some town where I might get a disguife, and a horse to carry me to Alicia’s father’s, whose removal to the poor village I knew nothing of. It was about two o’clock in the morning wdien I left ‘ my father’s, nor was it above three miles to the ferry; but I was Ib
weak
Y
0
miss Harriot Montague. 137
weak, and the box So heavy, that I was three hours before I reached it, I found the old man just launching his boat; he lift up his hands at the sight of me, I knew it was in vain to diffemblewith him, So told him my story: the good old man’s heart melted with my tale; he condemned my father, pityed me, and offered to Serve me faithfully on my promise not to let my father’ ever know of it; and I have made it my observation, that there is more com pafision and true friendship amongst the vulgar (said the good father) than amongst the great; for they are So engaged in their own private interests and designs, and fo much at ease, and unacquainted with misfortunes, that they have very little fense of other people’s, and forget that they may at one time or other stand in need of a friend themselves; whereas the meaner people, who are
sensible of the miseries of a low condition..
Tfie H I S T O K, Y or
dition, and dally meet with. disap pcintments, have a great deal of compailion, and readily assist others,. This good old man wept at my story,, carried me over,, and leaving his boat in his son’s care, went with me to a fisherman’s cottage, where he drested me in old boots, the massa old coat, thrum cap and worsted; mittins like a poor fiiher»boy; them he engaged the man to go along with me wherever I pleased, fearing his
going with me himfelswould discovet;
me.. Now I began to think of rewarding him j„i knew not how to open the box, and: had no money aibout me besides,, the box was the ready ways to betray me : : L therefore resblved to break it open, andi empty, it,, and throw it into the river, which I. accordingly, did; and; was greatly Surprised to. find two thousand,, pistoles; and many gold and silver pieces of, foreign coin and medals in it, befidesmy dead mother’s
jewels,
%
miss Harriot Montague.
jewels, with her picture Set round with brilliant diamonds, and the chief deeds of my sather’s estate; in fine, enough to make Alicia and me completely happy in an humble retreat. I paid my old ferry maa to his content, disposed of the money and other things about me. Sewing the jewels and writings into my clothes, and posted away with my guide to the town where I had left Alicia; there I was informed of what had befallen her father, and where they were gone to live. I hasted thither, and discharged my guide before I went to the house, lending him back with the horses, he had hired to bring us; and then entered the poor cottage where She was, in fb great a transport of joy,, that running to her as she was siting in a chair at work, I fell down, in a swoon at her feet; She had nop time to know me before I fell, but yet did not sty from me, but lifting
C
I
&
140 The HIST O RY or
up my head to help me, Saw my face, and giving a great shriek, ^ fainted. Her mother coming in at the door, law us both lying on the floor, and crying out, waked me from my trance; T rose and embraced her and my reviving miftress* I told them in few words how I got from my father’s, and what I had brought; that my design was never to leave Alicia any more, but to live and die with her. The good man being called, we all rejoiced at our happy meeting, and coniulted what was next to be done; it was altogether improper for me to stay there but a day, for there my father would be Sure to look for me, and where elfe to go or how to part with Alicia on any account, I could not resolve j at last the good man proposed to me to go to a benedictine monk who was his confestbr, and trust him with the whole affair, and ask his advice and ashstance:
he
miss Harriot Montague. 141
he was a man of singular integrity and vast experience, a person of noble birfli and great years, I consented to this propofai, we went to him, he received us kindly in his cell; and after giving me Some gentle reprehensions for my undutiful ness to my father, finding me reso lute, and determined to marry Alicia; and fearing, I Suppose, that if he refused to do that office for us, we might live together in a sinful state, he at last consented to my desires, and promised to serve us in all he was able, He Sent me to a widow lady’s house five miles from thence near Soria, who was his aunt, and Sent alicia’s father to fetch her thither also. In the evening he came to us, and that night I was made poffestbr of that lovely virtuous maid, whom I at his request Suffered to return home with her father the next morning, on condition
4
142 The H I S T O R Y OP
tion that she should return to me at night : this we did with design that if my father Sent, ‘ they should find her there, which would induce them to believe that I was not yet arrived, and would divert their pursuit of me for Some days, and give us time to get over the Pyrenian mountains into France, whither wc were resolved to retire. All things Succeeded as we expected : about noon officers came to search my father in law’s house, examined him, Alicia, her mother, and their man and maid, who all pretended ignorance; and finding they could get no Satisfaction or intelligence where I was, they went away: this Alicia gave me an account of at night. Father Dominic, the good benedictine, provided us horses and a guide for the next morning, and gave me letters of recommendation to Several priests and persons of quality in gascoigne,
advifii)g
.
‘missharriotmontague. 143
Tdvifing me to settle at or near Bearn. My dear Alicia and I, returning a thousand thanks to him and the lady, took leave; I presented the father with twenty pistoles as a present for his convent, gave three amongst the lady’s Servants; and being both drested in metes clothes like Servants in livery coats, being Some of the lady’s Servants clothes, we departed. I haa given alicia’s father a hundred pistoles, and agreed that he and her mother Should come to us fo fbon as Alicia and I had taken ahoufe, and were Settled; we had very fine weather and a safe journey, tho’ much fatigued in passing the Pyrenean mountains : and having presented my letters to the pershns to whom they were directed,
I was received by them with Such civility, and lb treated, that I was amazed, and no ways repented my leaving Spain : the gentry and clergy Seemed to vie who should be
kindest
V
144 The H I S TO RY OF *
kindest to us j the ladies courted and treated Alicia So highly, that she Soon became as free and unas fedted as they were, and So improved, that I thought her every day more charming. So fbon as we arrived in France, I Sent back my guide and horses, with letters to the good old father, the lady, and my father and mother in law. On the receipt of which. Father Dominic writ to my own father, acquainting him that I was married to Alicia, and gone out of the kingdom; that I was extremely Sorry he had constrained me to leave him in Such a manner, and was willing to return to him, if he would forgive me. and receive my wife into favour. In fine, he urged all he could think of to reconcile us, and received an answer, by which he found my father was implacable, and So incensed against me, that it was in vain to hope for
any accommodation between us, at
least
I
4
miss Harriot Montague. 145
least for Some time. My father and mother in law came to us, and having taken a pretty house and Some lands, he managed our little estate, and my wife and I kept the best company in the province, and lived at ease; it did not please God to bless our marriage with any chil ■drenj but everything else prospered with us. I writ often to father Dominic, sending him presents of what 1 thought might be acceptable, particularly wine, of which I had enough, having now bought a little vineyard : he sent to my father to let him know that i was well, and longed to visit him, but for ieven whole years could never perceive*by his answers that his displeasure was abated. All this while he never acquainted him where I was; at last my father falling sick, relented, and Sent to him to Send for me, and that I Should bring my wife along with m, C I no sooner received tkfs vol. II H. joyful
46 The HISTORY OF m joyful news, but I made ready to go to him; and leaving all to the care of my honest father-in-law, my wife and I, attended by two Servants, Set out for Valadolid, where we Soon arrived, and were received by my father with much tenderness. But alas, my oversight had drawn him into another during my absence, he had taken a young hand ibme kinswoman into the house and debauched her; this was a Secret could not be long hid from me; She was Saucy and insolent to my wife which I resented, and desired my father’s leave to return to France he desired me not to leave him any more, and would know the cause of my ■ disgust, and who had offended me: at last I modestly told him, our pert kinswaman took too much upon her; he coloured, and said it Should be remedied; but, as I afterwards discovered, he had two Sons by her, and knew not how to get rid Mist Ha rriot Montague. rid of her * this made her insolent, and finding I had made my complaint to my father of her, she was fired with revenge, and resolved to destroy my wife, who was now to my inexpreshble joy with child; she disguised her thoughts, seemed Sorry for what she had done, and fo be haved herself, that Alicia, who was all goodness, forgot what was past, and grew kind to her; but the viper ill returned it; for drinking chocolate one morning together, she put poishn into my dear alicia’s cup, of which she languished about a month, and then died; the physicians were of pinion that she was ooisoned, and when she was dead, I lad her opened, and was too well convinced of it: my affliction was fo great, that I was inconsolable. I sulpected my father, and could not believe his strumpet dared to have committed Such a deed without his knowledge and consent. I Seized H 2 her, 0 148 The HISTORY other, and had her examined before a magistrate, but she denied all, and I had no proof of the sail; So I took leave of my father, having had some sharp words with him, and returned to France the most disconsolate man living. Now I had time to rested: on all the actions of my past life, and too late became sensible that my disobedience.to my father first drew ood’s anger upon me, who had accordingly punished me in bereaving me of her who had been the occasion of my sin, and was in some kind culpable herself, tho’ more excusable than I, yet had paid her life for her fault; that mv father, who had been too severe, and ought to have had more indulgence Tor my youth, and less ambition, was punished by the divine justice in being permitted to become a .stave in his age to a vile pashon, no ways Dust or honourable like mine, and blasted his fame. these confidefa tions i % ; miss Ha rriot Montague. 149- rions inclined rne to quit the worlds, and dedicate the remainder of mv ^ off life to God, being then but twenty nine years old. I accordlogiy fettled my affairs in France, leaving my father and mother in law in pose session of my estate there, taking only for my own Support a thoafend pistoles and my mother’s jewels, which I had still reserved, and ordered my estate to go to a convent in the town where it lay near, after their decease; and taking my mother’s picture, and the writings I took from my father. Set out for the benedictine convent where father Dominic lived. I acquainted hi n with my design, he approved of it, and I waited on my father to obtain his leave and blessing. There I found my father’s mistress, had been her own executioner, havdng gone distracted with the rembrse of her conscience, and So hadcat her throat, having in fjer madness discovered H 3 all ^50 The HISTORY of all the circumstances of the murder. She had committed on Alicia. My father was So struck with the manner of her death, and stiame, his crime with her being now made public, that he seldom went out of his chamber. Our meeting was at this time very different from our parting; I fell at his feet with the greatest Submistion, and with tears begged pardon for the follies I had committed in my youth; he wept over me, and lifting me up, embraced me, unable to utter one word: then his countenance expressed the confusion of his thoughts; he biufhed at. his own weaknefs, and could not look me in the face: at last he Said, my Son, we have both offended God, but I more grievousty; God pardon me, as I do you. A tender conversation ensued, and we pasted Some days together in pious difcourses, I hope much to our advantage. I begged him “to, make fqm.ec miss’harriot Montague, i ft • 4 fbme provision for the two unfortunate children he had had by this ill woman, and settle his affairs, as I had mine; he told me he would be wholly directed by me. In few days he fell sick, and continued ilf for six months : having in that time fettled his affairs, by my desire the estate was given to his nephew, a worthy young gentleman, with Several legacies to his poor relations and the church j he expired in my arms with great piety and resignation;; bury’d him nobly, ani retired into the convent where I lived many years, being received into that fraternity: at forty years old I was chosen by our Superior to to be Sent to Peru, and front thence vent amongst the people, wdieie you found me, amongst whom I in dured great hardships, it being long before I could acquaint my!cu with their language and barbarous ciis toms; yet the austere life, and Hq good ia The HISTORY or good I did them in curing their Sicknels and wounds, with my dif — courses of God and Christ, So’ wrought upon thesefavages, that they listened to me and revered me. I wds several times taken prisoner by different parties of these barbarians, . who are ever at variance with one another; but they still Ijpared me,, having a notion that I was a holy person : thole I converted to Christianity were very hard of apprehen ffon, and yet very devout when once instruded. I have lived Seven years, with the poor fisherman and his fa mily, wshom we have brought with us, and was doubtless preserved by providence to be the means of your deliverance: and now I hope to spend the remainder of my days in that pleasant country where I was once happy with my dear Alicia, whom I might still perhaps have enjoyed, had we never left it; but it was heaven’s will that I should,, b s’ Mist Harriot Montague. 153 be what I am, and therefore won t ^ A repine. Here he ended his relation with a deep sigh, all the company being much pleased with the manner of his relatino; it, and the C * strangenels of his adventures; admiring the wisdom of God which had preserved him amongst Savages, and placed him where he was the means of their preservation. Bellario and Ravina with Philena^ their faithful stave, having hired the bark to stay, that brought Harriot and her dear friend, and sister, to Virginia, to carry them to the istand of St. Domingo, and from thence to Mexico, having made Leander and Harriot presents of two rich jewels, partof thofedumarefqueliadonwhen stie was cast on the barbarous stiore, making great acknowledgments for all the favours received, took leave,, promising to continue their friend ship by a constant intercourse of letters j, and if they ever returned to H 5 * Spai’p> 1k4 The HISTORY orr Spain, they would make a tour France on purpose to. See them, : Harriot and Lavinia had contradfed fo great a.friendship, that the latter had made her husband promise to gp settle in France, his religion being no hindrance, bccause he.was a Subr jedt of England, being born in Virr ginia, and therefore, had nothing to fear. As for Leander, he was petr fuaded by his wife and the monk to be a Roman Catholic, which he had been bred at first. Bellario and Ravina returned thanks to Leanderls uncle, his lady, the captain, and Lucy, and all that had visited, and treated them,, offering to serve them all in ‘trade, or. otherwise,, ^ was in her father’s power, they departed with a fair wind, and arrived Safe at Mexico, as they were asterr wards informed by letters from them a iid considerable presents which they received Some months astcr, by the lame bark that carried them
- Wv s t miss Harriot Montague. 155 Now young duniaresque, who had received a great Sortune with Lavinia, agreed with his Sather, who had children by his young wife, to take a certain Sum of money to be remitted in goods to France, as his fortune; they began to prepare for going thither, where Leander and Harriot longed to be. The poor Savages were Settled in old duma resque’s plantation, he having given them a little house and ground to live on, at his son’s and the good monk’s request. A Ship being got ready, and loaded with their effeccs, Harriot and Lavinia with their hus bands, went on board, where they took leave of the good old gentleman leander’s uncle and his lady with the honest captain, and Lucy, the fair maid, whom he had made kis wife, and who hearing part of harriot’s story, had concealed her thoughts to this moment; when going to take leave of Harriot, after ah 6 Eohct. / 156 The fl IS TO RI’ noble entertainment, which Leanv der and his kinsman had given them, on board the ship, threw her arms about harriot’s neck. Saying, ‘ I ^ cannot part with you, madam, be ‘ fore I reveal a Secret to you that ^ nearly concerns you : are not you’ ‘ the daughter of Monfienr Le ‘ Montague who lived near Bristol, -® and married a Second wife from
- London, by whom he had a ‘ Daughter narued Diana? and
- were you not trepanned to Virgi
- nia by that mother in law ?’ ‘ ‘yes, y j aniwered Harriot much furprizedy ‘ lam the daughter of thatt.: „for _ ® tiinate gentleman, and was by that ‘ Wicked woman betrayed and ex ‘ posed to a thoiiiand misfortunes. ‘ Bm who are yon? for lam impatient to know ‘ L am Said She, -‘ that daughter Lucretia, and your ‘ Sister by the father’s fide, by the ■
- justice of God tor my mother’s
- sins, doubtkfs,, exposed on the Seas, and \
9 Miss Harriot Montagub. 157
- and more barbarous lands; but by ‘ his mercy Saved, and honestly dis ‘ posed of to this generous man, ’ turning towards the captain her hus band. All the company, but especially Harriot, were impatient to learn her story; being all Seated, She in few words related. “My unjust mother. Said She, having got rid of you, whom she made my father and the world believe were drown’d coming back from the ship with her and captain Du Pre, apply’d herself wholly to amass a Sum of money to provide for me and herselte resolving to return to i^ondon, and pursue the Same unhappy course of life she had before followed, which I am too much confused at the mentioning of to explain farther for her shame is in Some measure mine; tho’ I bless God I have never been guilty, but ever had an aversion to all wicked addons. In order t o accomplish this design, she took up *• V The H r S T O R Y Of’ up clothes and money of everybody that would trust her; and in a Short time my father was persecuted on every hand, and unable to raise money fast enough to answer his creditors demands. You may imagine that this caused a great many quarrels between my father and mother.r but She minded nothing he Said, continued her extravagancies So longj that at last he was arrested by captain Du Pre, who pretended that She owed him a. hundred pounds by a note under her hand; and having before mortgaged his estate, it was not easy for him to get bail immediately. The night he was taken to. the officer s house in hold, mv mother packed up the plate and1inen„ and all that was worth carrying away and taking me,, went aboard a hoy. bound to London,, which Da Pre Had provided, and left him,. What: is became, of my poor father since, Iknow not j hut I fear he is. (iff I miss Harriot Montague., i sis alive) in very bad circumstances. At these words the tender Harriot wept; and her husband wiping away her tears, kisted her, and Said,.
- Come, my dear, be chearsul; you ‘ and I will Setch him from Eng ‘ land, and take care of him, If ‘ he is dead, being a good man, \ ‘ doubtless he is happy, and does ‘ not need onr help Lucretia continued her discourse thus : Being: O arrived at London, my mother went diredflyt® Westminster, to her.friend lucinda’s, but found her gone from the house, and well married to a Sea captain, with whom She lived very happily and honestly at Portsmouth, as the old bawd informed her,, to whom she vent for information she took a. lodging in the: bawd’s house, and Soon got a rich gallant, an old mercliant in the city : for though hshe was Still very handsome, and had very rich clothes, yet she was now in years, and not q io The HIS TOR Tor of an age to attradl the young fops and rakes. I Was about eight years Id when She went for London ♦ and, doubtlcss, She designed to advance me to be Some great persona’s mistress, or Some rich fool’s^ wife. She had robbed my father of near two thousand pounds; but Du Pre pealed her of a good deal of it. She kept me very fine, carried me to the parks, the plays, and had me taught to dance, sing, and play on the fpinnet: in fine. She took pains to make me agreeable, but none to instruct me in virtue and goodness yet God had given me the grace ta abhor her way of living; and I often wept for her sins in secret, and wished myself in prison with my good father,, or if he was poor and at liberty, that I might beg for him, rather than be a mistress. *. short, in about two years time, my mother had broke two or three merchants and a linen draper, She was struck \ / Miss Harriot Montague. it « struck with fickness, and the rheu matifni took away the use of her limbs. So that she lay a long time unable to help hcrself; She broke out into boils all over : in Short, She became full of i^icers, and died in a most miserable condition, to my great grief, I fear little sensible of her sins, and destitute of all spiritual helps, having only the vile old bawd about her, and the people in the house where we lodged. Being dead,, every one plundered Something; and. my mother having made a will, though’ no widow, which was left in a tally man’s hand, who was her old acquaintance, and together with Du Pre, were her executors and my guardians; the tally man came’ and buried her privately, and indeed poorly, and carried me home to his house, Du Pre being gone on a voyage to Ireland with his strip. 1 know not what my mother left me, but believe it was considerable, because
\ f The HISTORY or cause She had ofien told me she coules give me a handsome portion. I was but meanly treated at this vile tally man’s y and being ready to break my heart, begged day and night to be Sent down to Bristol to my father: but that was not his, nor Du Pres interest; for they well. knew my father would call them to an account for my mother’s effects. Old Gripe told me, as Soon as Dm Pre arrived; they would consult” what to do with me; accordingly they pretended to send me to my father, but putting me into a wagon,. Sent me to North Wales, to a place where I could hear nothing but Welsh, and lived four years, miserably;; which time I could not tell how to escape to Bristol, having not a penny of money, nor any but poor ignorant people to talk too, who could not help me. At last being now fourteen, I applied my shif to the minister of the parish, and. told V misslharriot Montague. told him my story. He was a very good man, and writ up to London to a friend, whom he ordered to find out the tally man, and threaten him,; and try to find what they designed to do with me, and what my mother had lest me. This gentleman did So, and Gripe laid all the fault on Du Pre, and promised to Send for me up to London; which he immediately did. At my arrival, he treated me kindly.. Then Du Pre and he contrived to get rid of me for good and all; So they seemed mighty ready to send me to my father, in order to which they went with me on board a strip that lay in the river, bound, as they pretended, for Bristol, and ready to fail. They had, bought me new clothes, and given me my mother’s watch and being young and ignorant, I did not suspect their villainy. Du Pre pretended he would go along with me, and the tall mam 164 The HISTORY OF I iman gave me a broad piece at parting, and went from ns at Greenwich : but Du Pre went with me as far as Sheerness;; there pretending to go on shore about Some business left me, and I never saw hini more. I knew it was a great way to Bristol by Sea, yet was every hour ashing when we should get thither, snq how far we were got, A youno* man, who was the captain’s nephew, and a very honest youth, taking ‘ pity of me, told me, ^ that I was. ‘ not going thither, but tojamaica :
- that he heard his cruel uncle bar gain with my cursed guardians to. carry me thither : they have. Said he, paid your pastage, and he has promised not to Sell you, but
- to get you a good Service; but he
- will strip you of all your clothes So Soon as he does reach Port royal, ‘ and sell you for a stave.’ I thought I should have died at shis news, but she young man begged me to take no miss Harriot Montague. i6j no notice of his discovering this Secret to me; * for if you do, said he,
- I am undone, my whole depen dance being upon my uncle, and
- he will discard me.’ I told him that in return tes the obligation he had laid upon me in trusting me, I would conceal it, and trust him. Then I told him all my story, and of the fortune I had, of which these villains wronged me, and that if he could find means to get me ashore anywhere in England, and would go with me to my father, I would give him part of my fortune he Should desire in reason, when it was reco « vered, as it would Soon be. He answered, that he had other terms to propose, which was, that I would promise to marry him in cafe he delivered me, and then he would tree me out of his hands, tho’ I went to Jamaica, which he feared I ‘ must do now, because we were past the land, and out at Sea : ^ for fo soon( (
nu The HISTORY ot
- Soon as wc land. Said he, I will
- go to the governor. Swear that you ‘ were trepaned thither, and tell ‘ shim all the circumstance. I have ‘ an uncle there, who, I am Sure, ‘ will take my part in Such a case: ‘ besides, is you will marry me So
- Soon as 1 can get you afshore, he cannot Sell you I readily consented to his proposals, thinking any honoiirable way to escape the miseries I was like to fall into ought to be accepted of: besides, I Was very, sensible, that if I refused this honest offer, I Should certainly be ruinest on the istand by Some villain, who would doubtless buy me for that vile use, and force me to comply with his wicked desires. After this Du Pre, for that was his name, studied how to oblige me, and took Such care of me, that tho’ there were two wild young men, a merchant’s Son and a mercer’s aboard the strip, sent by their fathers for no good miss Harriot Montague, i6y > good, doubtless, yet he engaged a very honest gentlewoman, a pasten« •^ger, to keep me always in her company j So that I went very Safe : and being near Jamaica, onr Ship was drove up the river Oroonoko, andt.shipwrecked, as you have before heard related; there this unfortunate young man has, I fear met with his death from the Barba tians hands, whose virtue and piety deserved a better fate; though as for my part, I have made a choice much more to my liking in my dear husband, turning herself to the captain, Harriot ran and embraced her, saying” “ lister, our fates have ‘ So much resemblance, that I am astonished at the almighty’s ju
- stice. Be assured if I live to see Kngland again, I will see justice ‘ done both to you and our dear
- father.’ At these words the old captain bowed, and Saluted Harriet and % T’ i68 The HISTORY or and Leander, Saying, ‘ I think my ^ ‘ Self very happy to have Such worthy relations, and doubt not but ‘ you \vill afisist my wife in all things ’i her virtue I am convinced of; and as I took her without theprosped: ‘ of a fortune, Shall value her no less, though She never has any.’ They all persuaded him to take his wife, and go along with Harriot for France and England; but the good man being in years, and having a plentiful fortune in Virginia, did not care to run any more hazards; fo they took leave, and went ashore with old Dumarefque, his lady, and the other friends who came with them on board and the Ship fet Sail the next morning; and in ten weeks safely arrived at St. Maloes, where Leander was agreeably surprised wtth the news of his guardian’s death, and also that Clemen tina and his lister, with her husband, were all safely arrived in France by the . J * \ s miss Harriot Montague. 169 the way of Spairi j that Clementina was in health with monsieur Le Montague; that De lesle, who shad long before left Virginia, was now living with his dear reconciled fla via. harriot’s arrival and his was Soon Spread abroad; and it was not many days before they and all their friends Sent or came to congratulate them, and to invite them to their Seats. In few days these now most happy relations and friends metall together at leander’s house, who was now pofiess’d of his estate. * his’ Sister iiavingtecelv’d her’’s before his arrival, entertain’d them nobly; and they entertained one another with an account of the strange adventures they had every one met withal. Monsieur Le Montague, who had retired to his country Seat in despait of ever feeing his dear Clemsntiaa’, recounted the manner of their meeting thus: “ I was. Said he, lining ^ by a fountain in my garden, when vol, II I ‘ g Servant 4k lyo The HISTORY of ‘ a servant came and told me, that ‘ there were two ladies and two ‘ gentlemen, who expressed their
- most eager desire of feeing me
- immediately; but, says he, upon *- my telling them, as you, sir, had ordered me, that you was engaged
- and could not be seen, one of the ^ ladies Swooned away; and, when ‘ she recovered, fiie must see
- yon though you were dying. As ‘ Soon as I heard these last words,
- I hastened to see them, but figure
- to yonrselves my great Surprise ‘ when the first object I bcfield, ‘ was my dear Clementina! I gazed ^ on her with delight, and embraced ‘ her with the most ardent affection; ‘ while she, on her part, was ut ‘ terly disabled from Smothering the ‘ real Sentiments of her heart. To ‘ com pi eat the Scene, we were for ‘ tome time lost in each other’s em ‘ braces, in dumb but expressive raptures, to the no Smad diversion of ‘ the miss Harriot Montague. 171 the company, who all laughed: but ‘ at last Clementina reminded me ‘ of our friends, and I welcomed ‘ them in few words; nay I was So ‘ distraffed to know clementina’s ^ adventures, that I hindered her from steeping by my impertinent ^ questions half the night Just as he Spoke these words, Monsieur De Leste and Flavia entered the room; Leander and Harriot Saluted her : dear kinswoman. Said he, I Sent your wanderer home to bless you with his presence, and repair the injuries he did you. Indeed, Said she, when he came (p the grates of the convent to ash sot me, I could Scarcely credit my eyes, he was So changed: but I Soon threw aside my veil, and fled to his arms with as much affection as at the first months of our marriage. You are, Said he, in Some confusion, all goodness, and I beg you would make no more mention of my crime, 12 since 172 The HISTORY or since I hope God and you have forgiven.it. Where is your Son.? Said Leander; at home. Said mon fieur De’ lesle, ell, and Such a one as merits a better father than I: he will be here by and by to wait on you. Many days pall: in visits and entertainments, too tedious to recite the particulars of; but after ibme months .were past, Harriot being big with child, and Madam dumaresque near her time, Harriot continually importuned her husband to go with her to England, it being the Year of the peace which was made with France; but he was afraid of venturing her upon the Sea in that condition, and offered to go himself: Madam dumaresque also would not part with her before Ihe was brought to bed. My dear lister. Said She, will you leave me in this condition.? Have I come So far with you out of affection, and lest my relations arid country for yon, and can t \ Miss Harriot Mont AGUE. 173 can you content to go from me at this lime? In short Lavinia was delivered of a daughter, and Harriot of a Son two months afterward, and and not able to go to fca for two months more; at last being recovered of her lying in, file and Leaoder went, over to England from Calais, ZD * and Landed Safely at Dover, from whence they hired horses at Bristol. There were few in the place who knew Harriot; but from them Ihe learned the Sad news that her ancient father was in prison, and had lain there five years; his wife’s, debts, which She had wickedly contrasfed, having entirely ruined him; stie would not stay a moment after this information, but flew to the prison winged with filial piety and tender affe^ion : She asked for him So earnestly, that the goalcr was startled; but clapping half a crown in his hand, he let her in; stie quickly saw her dejedted Sather, 13 who j74 The HISTORY oe K vvlio was creeping along the place clothed in nothing but rags, his white beard was grown down to the leathern thong which girded his poor coat about him; he lifted up his eyes which were before fixed on the ground, at the Sound of her voice, when She Said, sir, let me lijeak with you; and Seeing a fine lady and gentleman, put out his vcliite withered hand, cxpeding alms, but had not the least remembrance of, her face, or notion of her being alive, as indeed it was impossible he Should. She was in Ib ‘great disorder, that Leander fearing she would Swoon, wxnt to draw her / aside. The tears streamed down her face, and her voice faltered, So that She could utter no more, but clasping her arms about the old ■ man’s neck, Said, My dear father, and fainted. Thctc words caused Such a tumult in his soul, that he Seemed like a man waked from a frightful miss Harr lot montaoue. 175: frigbtsul dream; he trembled, held her fast, and gazed upon her, without Speaking one word. Leander was So moved with this sight, he could Scarce restrain his tears; but he taking hold of him gently. Said, sir, be not Surprised, God can do wonders, there is a mystery in my wife’s words, which if you will recollect your Spirits a little, we will inform you of. The old gentleman staring on him, cried out. It cannot be I ’tis all wonder, ’tis my child’s face, ’tis her voice, and yet m — At these words he dropped down. Leander called for Soma help, two or three prisoners came, vvbofe meagre faces and poor habit Spoke their miseries; they astisted him to lift Monsieur Le Montague into a poor room, where his bed lay on the floor, and Leander carried Harriot in his arms, who by this time recovered : he called for “9 wine, of which he gave Some to 14 the i7<5 The HISTORY or the old n emlenian; after which liiey talked and wept together: Harriot deferred to tell him the particulars of her adventures, till they were out of that place. Sending the goaler to fetch his creditors j but that being a work of time, fire deposited into a merchant’s hands the whole sum her iather was charged withal, which was but three hundred pounds, he having paid as long as he had anything left, and took him out with ‘ iicr, the merchant giving the goaler his bond to indemnify him : they went home with this merchant, where they refreshed, and new c’lothcd and shaved the old gentle rnan, who Still wtpt for joy, and praised God with his whole heart and tongue in Such a manner, that every stander by Seemed to participate of his joy, and being warmed with his zeal, wept with him : nor could he be less moved, who had in Miss Harriot Montague. 177 in one moment received Such a miraculous deliverance from the miseries of a prison, the greatest trial this life can Subject us to, and < Such a child, who was restored to him even from the grave. This to a man who had outlived hope, and had not the least profpedf of any deliverance but by death, was enough to revive all his faculties, and fill his soul with the most exquisite transports of joy, and highest Sense of gratitude to God. He entered a clean bed at night with more joy than he had ever done in his prosperity; the next morning he appeared fo revived and altered for the better, that Harriot could do nothing hut look upon him with the greatest pleasure, His creditors came, and pretended to be Sorry for what they had done; but he and She treated them with Such Scorn and reoroaches as their unchristian A ‘ ^ treatment of him delervcd. And I N new HP « 178 The HISTORY of now all his old friends and acquain* tance, who many of them had left him in his distress, Game to visit and. congratulate him, and See Harriot; she treated them all very civilly, but’ those who had relieved him in the prifoii, she caressed and entertained Splendidly: lastly She Sent to the goal; and freed those poor wretches who had been his companions and fellow lufferers ■ in that dreadful place; which were but five persons, people of mean condition, whose debts amounted to 120/. a noble gift from her, by which fine obtained their pryeis and blestlngs, which were better worth than the money; and having furnhhcd herfeif and father with whatever stie wanted from England, she, he, and Leander returned in the same vest’d that brought them to St. Maloes; the old gentleman being under no apprehensions of any troubles about Dis religion, being now So very ancieiil
miss Harriot Montague. 179 ancient, and. So long abscnt thence that none but his tstiends and relations could remember him; but he reishlved, if he was any ways molested, to remove to the ifiand f jer fey or guernsey, from whence he could pay or receive a visit from his daughter once or twice a year. Clementina gave them an account of all the strange adventures She had met with in. Barbary, which filled them; with admiration. One morning (a French ship having come into the port in the night) an old man in very poor habit came to young Monsieur Le Montague’s housc, and desired to be admitted to Speak with Clementina. She was at breakfast with her husband, and bid the Servants admit him; but was extremely Surprised when fhc Saw his face, and knew that he was the old French captain who had carried her to Canada. ‘ Madam Said. ** he, I an come to beg your pardon. X d besoi…^ io The HISTORY of
- before I die : God has been pleashd by a Severe Slavery to punish my sin, of which I had before a true fenie; and at last in his mercy has ‘ brought me back to my native country. But I could not live or / die in peace till I knew what was become of you, which having learned last night when I landed ‘ and went home to my house, I
- hasted to your presence to obtain ‘ your pardon, and beg your favour in the behalfoftwo Christian ‘ strangers, who escaped with me ‘ ifom I unis; they are a g’entlemaii ® and lady who have been Slaves,,
- and have nothing to Support them ^ when landed, or to carry them do
- their homed Monsieur Le Montague and Cicmentina told him, they were glad he had escaped, and Aould be ready to assist the strangers in anything. Le Montague Said, ‘ f ‘ tan hardly forgive yon what you
- have done to my wife, but as a ‘ Christian miss Harriot Mon TAGVE. ii
- Christian I won’t resent it: bring
- the innocent strangers, and we will ‘ do Something for them The Captain took leave, and about an hour after returned with the gentleman and lady: She was very handsome, her shape, stature, and mien were delicate and engaging. The gentleman was tall. Header, and had a face fo lovely and majestic, that he Seemed the offspring of Mars and Venus. Their dress was as mean as their psrfons were noble, being Such as charity had, furrststied them withal. Clementina Saluted aad welcomed her to France, not knowing whether She understood her or not. Monsieur Le Montague answered the gentleman’s civilities in the Same manner, Vvho thus addressed himself to Clementina. ‘ Madam, you doubt ‘ iess wonder why my wife and I ‘ have presumed to visit and apply
- ourselves to you, before any other ‘ perlon. r8z The H r S T O R Y of ‘‘ person, at my arrival in France : ^ but when I tell you that her name ‘ is Elvira De spinosa,. who was ‘ your companion in the convent,. ‘ and was in a particular manner ‘ honoured with your friendship; ‘ you will not be Surprised that she ‘ conics to ash the protediion of her ‘ friend.’ At these words clemen tina ran and embraced her; and Monsieur Le Montague said ‘ Then
- you are my dear schoolfellow
- du Bois: My God! where ‘ have you been this age, and what ‘ providence has preserved yon, ^ whose death I have mourned for
- fo pashonately Come, fitdown, ‘ and tell, us all your story, for we
- must not part again; my house is ‘ at your service, and my fortune.. ‘ shall be proud to procure
- your happiness in all things, to ‘ the utmost of our power Clementina was the mean wdiile weeping wish Elvira, being both fo transported’ Mist Harriot Montague. i8j Sported with joy, that they knew not how to contain or utter their thoughts. At last Monsieur du Bois took upon him to relate their strange adventures. You know, laid he, that my father dying whilst we were Schoolfellows, I was left in the hands of the two rich east-india merchants, Monsieur Dandin and Monsieur du fresne : Dandin had but one daughter, who was as deformed as esop, and as ill natured as stie was proud and ugly. My fortune was very confiderabse, and his whole aim was to match me to Magdelairi, and fa Secure it to his posterity. I was but thirteen, and he wheedled me into signing a contract with her; and She being twenty, was not a little pleasest to have Such a fine young husband. She took much upon her, and So tutored and Schooled me upon every occasion, that my aycrfion’daily increased towards her. I was. 4 184 The HISTORY 01 I was fain to hand her about to every place she was pleased to gad to; and at last it was my fortune to go with her to a Chapel near the monastery where you and my dear Elvira were pensioners; there I saw you and her together : you I knew, because my friend monsicur le Montague had Showed you to me; for students always tell their amours to one another, and I am younger than he, fo that he had a mistress before me. I was fo charmed with her, that had not my fury been along with me, I had followed you to the convent: but I soon found an opportunity to go thither, and found you gone. I got to the fj: eech of her, and in sometime gained my charmer’s consent to marry me Secretly, She, you know, was an orphan, whon being related to the abbess your aunt, was bred, there with design (having but a Small fortune) to be made a nun. Being but 4 Miss Harriot Montague. 185 blit a joenfioner, it was no difficulc thing for her to come to me j but my keeping my marriage a Secret till I was of age, was a hard thing to be done. My guardians did not keep me fiiort of money, So that I fancied I could easily maintain her if I could but get some faithful friend for her to live withal privately in the house with his wife and family, or elfe a private lodging. This last I thought most Secure, and accordingly took a chamber in a widow woman’s honfe in a village. Having thus provided a retreat, and engaged my confessor to marry us, I gave her notice, and She got out the next morning with another pensioner, on pretence of going to church to the chapel.i had Seen her at : I waited for her in a coach near the chapel, and coming out in the crowd. She slipped from her corppanion, and turning back into the church went out at another door, shere I took her into is The HISTORY or into the coach, and drove away with her to the friars cell, where we were married. Thence we went aw’^ay to the village, to our lodging, where I had provided a dinner and all things for our reception. The widow’s daughter, a very modest young maid I had hired to wait on her.. Here I staid all night, having, pretended to old Dandin, my guardian, that I was to go out of town with a young gentleman whom I kept company withal, and whom I had trusted with my Secret, and engaged to ask me to go. with him before my guardian and Magdelain, nay crooked rib that was to be. la fine, I kept my dear Elvira here Some months, tho’ a great Search was made after her, being very cautious in my visi: s. She was that time with child, but mifearried. She never stirred out of doors without a mask, or when I fetched her out in a coach but finding it was inconvenient to have # miss Harriot Montague, 187 have her So far off, I removed her to St. mate’s, and took a lodging for her at a widow’s house in a back Street, in a very private place, with a garden, and back door into the fields. In this garden, Elvira used to walk, and venture Sometimes to look out of her windows into it. ■ A young lord who often pasted by that way. Saw and fell in love with her: he Soon inquired who kept the hduse, and learned that it was a widow who had a young gentlewoman and her Servant lodged with her. He, emboldened by his quality and fortune,, went to the house in a chair, richly dressed, and alked to see the lady, the young gentlewoman that lodged there : the woman feeing his attendance and habit, was daunted. He asked no leave, but going by her, went upstairs, and found Elvira sitting in her chamber reading: She was doubtless Surprised, but he told her his business. iss The HISTORY OF business was love, and in fine would take no denial, or be gone. He fnpposed her a mist refs by the place she resided in, being So mean and obfcnre, and resolved to poffess her whatever it cost. She told him she was married, but he turned that into ridicule : before he went he presented her with a fine diamond ring, whidi she resufing, he left it upon the table. He went not away till midnight; the next morning I found her in tears, she toldme whatamis fortiine had befallen her. I was ‘now but Seventeen, and the expense of maimaining her and a Servant, So Sunk my allowance, that I had no money by me • and being Something indebted to the widow, I knew not how at present to remove her. In fine, this young nobleman, who was mad in love.with her, continued frequently to visit her, and Set fpys to discover who kept her, who quickly got knowledge of ■■ • Miss Harriot Montague. i of the Secret. This young lord, who was one of the most powerful persons and had the greatest fortune of any nobleman in the place, knew my guardian, and Sent privately for him, telling him, as out of friendship, the matter. mon fieiir Dandin, says he, yon have a young heir who is contracted to your daughter, who will be ruined; he keeps a mistress. in Such a place, his your duty and interest to put an end to Such an intrigue, and Save the youth from being undone. My guardian promised never to reveal who told him, and returned him a thousand thanks; he came home and took no notice to me, but watched me the next time I went out, and dogged me to elvira’s lodging, at my return home he told me I must make the tour of Europe, or marry his daughter next week. I was ready to go distracfed before, but now I was quite overwhelmed. I found tgo The Ul STORY OF 1 found I was watched, and dared not go to Elvira. One morning when I was in bed, he entered my chamber, Searched, my pockets, took away all the money I had left, with my watch, and addressed himself to me in the following manner, young gentleman, I am informed you keep a mistress, your allowance Shall be shortened; you are like to prove a good man and an excellent husband, that begin So Soon. I was So enraged, I lost all patience; I told him I would never marry his daughter, and that So Soon as I was of age I would call him to an account. I know not what I Said, but we quarrelled to that degree, that I rose and went out of the house, protesting that I would never Set foot in it again, I went directly to Elvira, but cannot express the transport of sorrow I was in when I came there, and found the poor widow and the .maid in fears, who told me, that at twelve % miss Harriot Montague. 191 twelve o’clock the preceding night, somebody knocking fostly at the door, they inpposed it to be me; the • maid rising, and going to it, asked, who was theresomebody an fvvered, it is I, du Bois; at these words She opened the door, a man in a vizard caught hold of her, clapping a pistol to her breast, telling her if Ihe made the least noise he would Shoot her, three more riifhed in, all masked, and ran upstairs, dragging Elvira out of bed; She saw them ■bring her mistress down bound hand and toot, and put her into a chair; ‘one man Staid till the chair was gone, as She fupposed, a good way; then he bid her Shut the door and make no noise, for if She did, he would come back and kill her. The poor creature was So frighted, She had not power to stir for Some time; at last she went up to the widow, and acquainted her with what had happened. This was all I could learn. 192 The HISTORY of learn, and enough to make me des* perate. I returned to my guardian like an enraged lion, demanded my wife, declaring my marriage : this made him as furious as I; he threatened to Sue me for the contradf with his daughter; I applied myself to Several of my relations and friends to afisist me against him, but nobody cared to meddle; for he was known to be very rich and a very cunning man; I then challenged the young lord, charging him with stealing her. but he only laughed at and ridiculed me. At last being unable to get any news of her, I resolved to travel, believing they had murdered her. I was deeply melancholy; and my guardian, who indeed knew not what was become of Elvira, was willing to be rid of me, and readily agreed to my going to travel. I designed to go first to Rome, and from thence to make the tour of Europe, and return to France So Soon as I was of age, to be miss Harriot Montague. see revenged of my guardian. He agreed to make me a handsome allowance, and gave me five hundred pistoles to defray my extraordinary expenses, being willing to be reconciled to me before the day of r^kon ing came. Attended by a Servant I Set out on my journey, and reached Rome, having viewed all at was curious in my way thither thro’ Spain. I resolved to stay there Some time, and took a lodging for that purpose, One morning my Servant waked me. Saying there was. a youth, who Said he was come post from France to me. - I bad him call him up; when he entered my chamber, he made a sign with his hand that I Should send away the Servant; I did So, he then ran to me ‘and catched me in his arms: but * good Heavens! how was I at that moment transported when I Saw it was my dear Elvira. I strut the chamber door, and then She told me, that being (as I knew She was) pretty vol. II K far \ * 194 The HISTORY of far gone with child, the Sright had thrown her into Such a’condition, that when the villains, who had carried her away, came to take her out of the chair, She Seemed half deatj they carried her upstairs into a chamber richly furnished, and laid her upon a bed, and So left her; the young lord came to her immediately, and told her that She must now consent to his desires, that he would never part from her again; it was in vain to resist, or call out for help : in fine, nothing but the condition stie was in preserved her; for telling him She was in. labour, and Should die if he did not call Somebody to herastistance, begging him with tears to pity her condition, stie prevailed with him to defer the tcxecution of his brutish design, and he called an old woman, and her daughter to her. She had no other help but these women; and falling into a fever, lay lick in her bed three months unable to rise; all which t miss Harriot Montague. 195 which time the young lord continually visited her, bringing a physician Several times: at last recovering So as to be able to walk about her chamber. She began to confider how to make her escape. By this time, as She afterwards learned, I having declared our marriage, the young lord refrained from visiting her Some days. One afternoon he came, and being alone with her, he said thus to her, * I am come to ash your par
- for the injuries I have done ‘ you; I thought you a mistress, ndt ‘ a wife, and my passiqn for you was
- So excesiive, that it blinded my ^ reason. I believed you ruin’d by ‘ a man who was pre engaged to ‘ another, and was not naif fo well ‘ able to take care of you as myself: ‘ had you been a virgin, I would ‘ have married you, but finding, you are virtuous, and Monsieur ‘du bois’s wise, L am heartily Sorry ‘ for what is past, and ready to re K 2 ‘ store 196 The HISTORY of ^ store you to him. He is gone to
- Rome in discontent. So Soon as ^ you are able to travel, I will fur
- yon with money, and a Ser ‘ vant to wait on you thither. Be
- me, Elvira, I love you no ^ longer with an unlawsul passion, ^ but with a tender affection as a ^ sister. I will, So Soon as your husband is of age, assist him to the ‘ uttermost of my power against
- Monsieur Dandin, who has Been ‘ the cause of all this mischies.’ Here he diicovercd to her what had past between him and Dandin, and how they had contrived together that he should steal her away, and carry her to this his country house, where the Servants were at their devotion, who supposed she was Some young lady whom their master had got with child, none dared incjuire Sarther than by Supposition : in fine. So Soon as my wise found herself able to Sit a hoise, ‘I she by his advice put on a man’s habit. Mi Ss H A R B. IOT Mon t a g u. i gy habit, and having received a thousand pistoles from him. Set out for Rome, attended by one of his Servants. Nothing could be more welcome than She was to me, and I concluded that the dilguife Ihe had on was the best in the world to conceal her till I was of age, and farther misfortunes, which her beauty in a female dress might again occasion. I now wanted but a year and half of being of age, and had no mind to return to France till that time was elaps’d; So we removed to a lodging Some miles from Rome, where Elvira, who pass’d for my kinsman, lived with me 5 we pasted the day very agreeably: at last we embarked aboard a vessel’ ‘ for marsailles, and Set sail with a fair wind; but in few hours a terrible storm drove us out to Sea, and we were driven for eight and forty hours before the wind, iri which time our Ship was fo disabled, that she Sprung a leak, and R 3 had I. % ^ 19s theahis.tory ur had not a ship come up, we had all perislied in “the merciless Seas : but ‘ alas, it had been better for many of us that we had done So; for’ it proved to be a corsiit of Tunis belonging to 2 great basta there, we’ , were all put into irons and carried thither. How inexprefisible my concern was for my dear Elvira, you may easily imagine. At our cominn on shore we were carried to ‘o this balia’s house, who reviewing hd prisoners, made choice of her and me for staves, supposing we were prisoners of birth, and that he Should have a laro; e ransom for O us. He examin’d what nation we ^ \ were of: I answered that we were natives of France, and brothers, that we had been at Rome, to p which our father, a private gentleman, had Sent us, and were returning homie. He Teemed Satisfied, and used us gently, making us write, or attend him into the coiin y, riding by the fide of hk litter; but Mils Harriot Montague. 199 but! Soon perceived he had a wicked design on Elvira, whom he dres sed in a fine Turkilh dress, and treated with great indulgence, I was Seized with Such dreadful apprehensions at this procedurej that I resolved to run all hazards to es cape his hands. This put us on a project which we happily effected; the French captain, who brought us home, was at that time Ills stave, he had been So to his Sather, who was a general; and had treated him very cruelly: by his death he fell into this barbarian’s hands, who
- ’ was a good naturedman; and finding him skilled in sea affairs, had made him master of a very neat pleasarc boat he used to goiout to Sea in for his diversion; he ijkev/ise trusted us to go out in her with other staves, natives of Tunis, to fistr for him. The French captain was generally thus employed in the fumiuer Seiiibn, and was much in his favour; I was aften lent aboard K 4- with 200 The HISTORY of with himj but Elvira never. I con tradfed a friendship with him, and we contrived our escape thence in this manner; he had got knowledge of the Christian fisherman and his Vvdfe, where you had lived; he directed ine thither, and we agreed that Elvira and I should retire to that place, which was not very dif ‘ ficult for us to do, since we had the liberty of walking the town, that he should send Some of the staves on shore, and bring the pleasure boat about in the dusk of the evening, and take us in. All our. hope was to get to Malta in this .flight vessel, a very dangerous undertaking; but our condition made ns resolve to trust to Providence, and venture all risques to get out of the infidel’s hands. There was a lovely maid who had been Sold to thisbasta Some months before, whose name was Rofietta; she was a farmer’s daughter at Poictou; who was in qualityof a Servant with a R 5 lady mis Harriot Montague. 2ot lady that was going with her Saniily to her husband, a merchant, who was Settled in the West Indies; and the Ship being taken by a pirate of Tunis, she was made a stave, and So fell into this pirate’s hands. With this maid the captain was fallen in love, he Sent her along with us to the fffherman’s. All things being ready, and the Bassa absent, being Sent for to the court, we got away, as agreed, and the captain came according to appointment; and it plcased God that we arrived Safely at Malta in four days time, the the Algerine staves not in the least fufpe<5ting our design till they saw the veftel enter the Port; they were but five in number, and unarmed. So that we had not anything to fear from them, being on our guard. Hence we were received as became Christians, and furnished with clothes: we got a pastage in a French Ship that put in there. And now Providence having brought us back to ous 2®2 The HISTORY of V , _ ^ – ©ur own native country, we beg, your affifiance to get Dandln to deliver up my fortune. That, Said Moijfieur, is easy, for he is long. Since dead, and his daughter is married to a very honest gentleman, w.lio I dare.promife will gladly restore to you all that is your due,. Clementina .entertained them hobly,, and the French captain, having maitied Roffetta, brought her to •v/ait on her. In a few days js/lonfieurr Te Montague, having managed the’ affair, procured an agreement between Monsieur du Bois and mag delain’s husband, who honourably paid him what money Dandin had in his hands of his; Monsieur du Bois entered into pofteffion of all his fortune. Thus divine Providence having by various trials and strange vicifiitudes of fortune, proved the faith and patience of these heroic Christians, whom neither
- ilavery, nor the fear of death could prevail with to forsake their faith, * or.’ ….!. t • miss Harriot Montagub. 26j • ^ • * or distrust thefir God, they were all happily preserved and delivered out of their troubles, and at last brought home to their own native lands. Harriot, whose filial piety and extraordinary virtues make her justly claim the .first place in our esteem, as well as in this history, had the satissaction of Seeing her. ‘ dear father die in peace in a good. old age; She was blessed with an excellent husband, and many children fair and virtuous as herself: nor was her prosperity interrupted by any misfortune. The virtuous la vinia and Clementina, and all the rest were blessed with all earthly happiness. These examples Should convince us, how postible it is for us to behave ourselves as we ought in our conditions, since ladies, whole sex and tender manner of breeding, render them much less able than men to Support Such hardships, bravely endured shipwrecks, want, cold, and stavery, and every ili 204 The HISTORY OP f ill that human nature could be tried withal; yet we, who never feel the inclemency of Soreign climates, that never Saw the face of barbarous pirates, or Savages, are impatient even at a fit of fickness, or a disappointment, shake at a storm, and are brave in nothing but in daring heaven’s judgements. Let us blush when we read Such histories as these, aud imitating these great examples, render ourselves worthy to have our names like theirs recorded posterity. v ^
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