LETTER XXI
MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWETHURSDAY EVENING, JUNE 8.
After my last, so full of other hopes, the contents of this will surpriseyou. O my dearest friend, the man has at last proved himself to be avillain!
It was with the utmost difficulty last night, that I preserved myself fromthe vilest dishonour. He extorted from me a promise of forgiveness,and that I would see him next day, as if nothing had happened: but if itwere possible to escape from a wretch, who, as I have too much reason tobelieve, formed a plot to fire the house, to frighten me, almost naked,into his arms, how could I see him next day?
I have escaped--Heaven be praised that I have!--And now have no otherconcern, than that I fly from the only hope that could have made such ahusband tolerable to me; the reconciliation with my friends, so agreeablyundertaken by my uncle.
All my present hope is, to find some reputable family, or person of myown sex, who is obliged to go beyond sea, or who lives abroad; I care notwhether; but if I might choose, in some one of our American colonies--never to be heard of more by my relations, whom I have so grievouslyoffended.
Nor let your generous heart be moved at what I write. If I can escapethe dreadfullest part of my father's malediction, (for the temporary partis already, in a manner, fulfilled, which makes me tremble inapprehension of the other,) I shall think the wreck of my worldlyfortunes a happy composition.
Neither is there need of the renewal of your so-often-tendered goodnessto me: for I have with me rings and other valuables, that were sent mewith my clothes, which will turn into money to answer all I can want,till Providence shall be pleased to put me into some want to help myself,if, for my further punishment, my life is to be lengthened beyond mywishes.
Impute not this scheme, my beloved friend, either to dejection on onehand, or to that romantic turn on the other, which we have supposedgenerally to obtain with our sex, from fifteen to twenty-two: for, bepleased to consider my unhappy situation, in the light in which it reallymust appear to every considerate person who knows it. In the firstplace, the man, who has endeavoured to make me, his property, will huntme as a stray: and he knows he may do so with impunity; for whom have Ito protect me from him?
Then as to my estate, the envied estate, which has been the originalcause of all my misfortunes, it shall never be mine upon litigated terms.What is there in being enabled to boast, that I am worth more than I canuse, or wish to use? And if my power is circumscribed, I shall not havethat to answer for, which I should have, if I did not use it as I ought:which very few do. I shall have no husband, of whose interest I ought tobe so regardful, as to prevent me doing more than justice to others, thatI may not do less for him. If therefore my father will be pleased (as Ishall presume, in proper time, to propose to him) to pay two annuitiesout of it, one to my dear Mrs. Norton, which may make her easy for theremainder of her life, as she is now growing into years; the other of50L. per annum, to the same good woman, for the use of my poor, as I hadthe vanity to call a certain set of people, concerning whom she knows allmy mind; that so as few as possible may suffer by the consequences of myerror; God bless them, and give them heart's ease and content, with therest!
Other reasons for my taking the step I have hinted at, are these.
This wicked man knows I have no friend in the world but you: yourneighbourhood therefore would be the first he would seek for me in, wereyou to think it possible for me to be concealed in it: and in this caseyou might be subjected to inconveniencies greater even than those whichyou have already sustained on my account.
From my cousin Morden, were he to come, I could not hope protection;since, by his letter to me, it is evident, that my brother has engaged himin his party: nor would I, by any means, subject so worthy a man todanger; as might be the case, from the violence of this ungovernablespirit.
These things considered, what better method can I take, than to go abroadto some one of the English colonies; where nobody but yourself shall knowany thing of me; nor you, let me tell you, presently, nor till I amfixed, and (if it please God) in a course of living tolerably to my mind?For it is no small part of my concern, that my indiscretions have laid soheavy a tax upon you, my dear friend, to whom, once, I hoped to give morepleasure than pain.
I am at present at one Mrs. Moore's at Hampstead. My heart misgave me atcoming to this village, because I had been here with him more than once:but the coach hither was so ready a conveniency, that I knew not what todo better. Then I shall stay here no longer than till I can receive youranswer to this: in which you will be pleased to let me know, if I cannotbe hid, according to your former contrivance, [happy, had I given into itat the time!] by Mrs. Townsend's assistance, till the heat of his searchbe over. The Deptford road, I imagine, will be the right direction tohear of a passage, and to get safely aboard.
O why was the great fiend of all unchained, and permitted to assume sospecious a form, and yet allowed to conceal his feet and his talons, tillwith the one he was ready to trample upon my honour, and to strike theother into my heart!--And what had I done, that he should be let looseparticularly upon me!
Forgive me this murmuring question, the effect of my impatience, myguilty impatience, I doubt: for, as I have escaped with my honour, andnothing but my worldly prospects, and my pride, my ambition, and myvanity, have suffered in this wretch of my hopefuller fortunes, may I notstill be more happy than I deserve to be? And is it not in my own powerstill, by the Divine favour, to secure the greatest stake of all? Andwho knows but that this very path into which my inconsideration hasthrown me, strewed as it is with briers and thorns, which tear in piecesmy gaudier trappings, may not be the right path to lead me into the greatroad to my future happiness; which might have been endangered by evilcommunication?
And after all, are there not still more deserving persons than I, whonever failed in any capital point of duty, than have been more humbledthan myself; and some too, by the errors of parents and relations, by thetricks and baseness of guardians and trustees, and in which their ownrashness or folly had no part?
I will then endeavour to make the best of my present lot. And join withme, my best, my only friend, in praying, that my punishment may end here;and that my present afflictions may be sanctified to me.
This letter will enable you to account for a line or two, which I sent toWilson's, to be carried to you, only for a feint, to get his servant outof the way. He seemed to be left, as I thought, for a spy upon me. Buthe returning too soon, I was forced to write a few lines for him to carryto his master, to a tavern near Doctors Commons, with the same view: andthis happily answered my end.
I wrote early in the morning a bitter letter to the wretch, which I leftfor him obvious enough; and I suppose he has it by this time. I kept nocopy of it. I shall recollect the contents, and give you the particularsof all, at more leisure.
I am sure you will approve of my escape--the rather, as the people of thehouse must be very vile: for they, and that Dorcas too, did hear me (Iknow they did) cry out for help: if the fire had been other than avillanous plot (although in the morning, to blind them, I pretended tothink it otherwise) they would have been alarmed as much as I; and haverun in, hearing me scream, to comfort me, supposing my terror was thefire; to relieve me, supposing it was any thing else. But the vileDorcas went away as soon as she saw the wretch throw his arms about me!--Bless me, my dear, I had only my slippers and an under-petticoat on. Iwas frighted out of my bed, by her cries of fire; and that I should beburnt to ashes in a moment--and she to go away, and never to return, norany body else! And yet I heard women's voices in the next room; indeedI did--an evident contrivance of them all:--God be praised, I am out oftheir house!
My terror is not yet over: I can hardly think myself safe: every well-dressed man I see from my windows, whether on horseback or on foot, Ithink to be him.
I know you will expedite an answer. A man and horse will be procured meto-morrow early, to carry this. To be sure, you cannot return an answerby
the same man, because you must see Mrs. Townsend first: nevertheless,I shall wait with impatience till you can; having no friend but you toapply to; and being such a stranger to this part of the world, that Iknow not which way to turn myself; whither to go; nor what to do--What adreadful hand have I made of it!
Mrs. Moore, at whose house I am, is a widow, and of good character: andof this one of her neighbours, of whom I bought a handkerchief, purposelyto make inquiry before I would venture, informed me.
I will not set my foot out of doors, till I have your direction: and I amthe more secure, having dropt words to the people of the house where thecoach set me down, as if I expected a chariot to meet me in my way toHendon; a village a little distance from this. And when I left theirhouse, I walked backward and forward upon the hill; at first, not knowingwhat to do; and afterwards, to be certain that I was not watched before Iventured to inquire after a lodging.
You will direct for me, my dear, by the name of Mrs. Harriot Lucas.
Had I not made my escape when I did, I was resolved to attempt it againand again. He was gone to the Commons for a license, as he wrote meword; for I refused to see him, notwithstanding the promise he extortedfrom me.
How hard, how next to impossible, my dear, to avoid many lesserdeviations, when we are betrayed into a capital one!
For fear I should not get away at my first effort, I had apprized him,that I would not set eye upon him under a week, in order to gain myselftime for it in different ways. And were I so to have been watched as tohave made it necessary, I would, after such an instance of the connivanceof the women of the house, have run out into the street, and thrownmyself into the next house I could have entered, or claim protection fromthe first person I had met--Women to desert the cause of a poor creatureof their own sex, in such a situation, what must they be!--Then, suchpoor guilty sort of figures did they make in the morning after he wasgone out--so earnest to get me up stairs, and to convince me, by thescorched window-boards, and burnt curtains and vallens, that the fire wasreal--that (although I seemed to believe all they would have me believe)I was more and more resolved to get out of their house at all adventures.
When I began, I thought to write but a few lines. But, be my subjectwhat it will, I know not how to conclude when I write to you. It wasalways so: it is not therefore owing peculiarly to that most interestingand unhappy situation, which you will allow, however, to engross atpresent the whole mind of
Your unhappy, but ever-affectionateCLARISSA HARLOWE.
LETTER XXII
MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.FRIDAY MORNING, PAST TWO O'CLOCK.
Io Triumphe!--Io Clarissa, sing!--Once more, what a happy man thyfriend!--A silly dear novice, to be heard to tell the coachman where tocarry her!--And to go to Hampstead, of all the villages about London!--The place where we had been together more than once!
Methinks I am sorry she managed no better!--I shall find the recovery ofher too easy a task, I fear! Had she but known how much difficultyenhances the value of any thing with me, and had she the least notion ofobliging me by it, she would never have stopt short at Hampstead, surely.
Well, but after al this exultation, thou wilt ask, If I have already gotback my charmer?--I have not;--But knowing where she is, is almost thesame thing as having her in my power. And it delights me to think howshe will start and tremble when I first pop upon her! How she will lookwith conscious guilt, that will more than wipe off my guilt of Wednesdaynight, when she sees her injured lover, and acknowledged husband, fromwhom, the greatest of felonies, she would have stolen herself.
But thou wilt be impatient to know how I came by my lights. Read theenclosed letter, as I have told thee, I have given my fellow, inapprehension of such an elopement; and that will tell thee all, and whatI may reasonably expect from the rascal's diligence and management, if hewishes ever to see my face again.
I received it about half an hour ago, just as I was going to lie down inmy clothes, and it has made me so much alive, that, midnight as it is, Ihave sent for a Blunt's chariot, to attend me here by day peep, with myusual coachman, if possible; and knowing not what else to do with myself,I sat down, and, in the joy of my heart, have not only written thus far,but have concluded upon the measures I shall take when admitted to herpresence: for well am I aware of the difficulties I shall have to contendwith from her perverseness.
HONNERED SIR,
This is to sertifie your Honner, as how I am heer at Hamestet, where Ihave found out my lady to be in logins at one Mrs. Moore's, near uponHamestet-Hethe. And I have so ordered matters, that her ladyship cannotstur but I must have notice of her goins and comins. As I knowed I durstnot look into your Honner's fase, if I had not found out my lady, thoffshe was gone off the prems's in a quarter of an hour, as a man may say;so I knowed you would be glad at hart to know I have found her out: andso I send thiss Petur Patrick, who is to have 5 shillings, it being nownear 12 of the clock at nite; for he would not stur without a heartydrink too besides: and I was willing all shulde be snug likeways at thelogins before I sent.
I have munny of youre Honner's; but I thought as how, if the man waspayed by me beforend, he mought play trix; so left that to your Honner.
My lady knows nothing of my being hereaway. But I thoute it best not toleve the plase, because she has taken the logins but for a fue nites.
If your Honner come to the Upper Flax, I will be in site all the dayabout the tapp-house or the Hethe. I have borrowed another cote, insteadof your Honner's liferie, and a blacke wigg; so cannot be knoen by mylady, iff as howe she shuld see me: and have made as if I had the tooth-ake; so with my hancriffe at my mothe, the teth which your Honner waspleased to bett out with your Honner's fyste, and my dam'd wide mothe, asyour Honner notifys it to be, cannot be knoen to be mine.
The two inner letters I had from my lady, before she went off the prems's.One was to be left at Mr. Wilson's for Miss Howe. The next wasto be for your Honner. But I knowed you was not at the plase directed;and being afear'd of what fell out, so I kept them for your Honner, andso could not give um to you, until I seed you. Miss How's I only madebelief to her ladyship as I carried it, and sed as how there was nothingleft for hur, as she wished to knoe: so here they be bothe.
I am, may it please your Honner,Your Honner's must dutiful,And, wonce more, happy servant,WM. SUMMERS.
***
The two inner letters, as Will. calls them, 'tis plain, were written forno other purpose, but to send him out of the way with them, and one ofthem to amuse me. That directed to Miss Howe is only this:--
THURSDAY, JUNE 8.
I write this, my dear Miss Howe, only for a feint, and to see if it willgo current. I shall write at large very soon, if not miserablyprevented!!!
CL. H.
***
Now, Jack, will not her feints justify mine! Does she not invade myprovince, thinkest thou? And is it not now fairly come to--Who shallmost deceive and cheat the other? So, I thank my stars, we are upon apar at last, as to this point, which is a great ease to my conscience,thou must believe. And if what Hudibras tells us is true, the dearfugitive has also abundance of pleasure to come.
Doubtless the pleasure is as great In being cheated, as to cheat. As lookers-on find most delight, Who least perceive the juggler's sleight; And still the less they understand, The more admire the slight of hand.
***
This my dear juggler's letter to me; the other inner letter sent by Will.
THURSDAY, JUNE 8.
MR. LOVELACE,
Do not give me cause to dread your return. If you would not that Ishould hate you for ever, send me half a line by the bearer, to assure methat you will not attempt to see me for a week to come. I cannot lookyou in the face without equal confusion and indignation. The obliging mein this, is but a poor atonement for your last night's vile behaviour.
You may pass this time in a journey to Lord M.'s; and I cannot doubt, ifthe ladies of your family are as favourable to me,
as you have assured methey are, but that you will have interest enough to prevail with one ofthem to oblige me with their company. After your baseness of last night,you will not wonder, that I insist upon this proof of your future honour.
If Captain Tomlinson comes mean time, I can hear what he has to say, andsend you an account of it.
But in less than a week if you see me, it must be owing to a fresh act ofviolence, of which you know not the consequence.
Send me the requested line, if ever you expect to have the forgivenessconfirmed, the promise of which you extorted from
The unhappyCL. H.
***
Now, Belford, what canst thou say in behalf of this sweet rogue of alady? What canst thou say for her? 'Tis apparent, that she was fullydetermined upon an elopement when she wrote it. And thus would she makeme of party against myself, by drawing me in to give her a week's time tocomplete it. And, more wicked still, send me upon a fool's errand tobring up one of my cousins.--When we came to have the satisfaction offinding her gone off, and me exposed for ever!--What punishment can bebad enough for such a little villain of a lady?
But mind, moreover, how plausibly she accounts by this billet, (supposingshe should not find an opportunity of eloping before I returned,) for theresolution of not seeing me for a week; and for the bread and butterexpedient!--So childish as we thought it!
The chariot is not come; and if it were, it is yet too soon for everything but my impatience. And as I have already taken all my measures,and can think of nothing but my triumph, I will resume her violentletter, in order to strengthen my resolutions against her. I was beforein too gloomy a way to proceed with it. But now the subject is all aliveto me, and my gayer fancy, like the sunbeams, will irradiate it, and turnthe solemn deep-green into a brighter verdure.
When I have called upon my charmer to explain some parts of her letter,and to atone for others, I will send it, or a copy of it, to thee.
Suffice it at present to tell thee, in the first place, that she isdetermined never to be my wife.--To be sure there ought to be nocompulsion in so material a case. Compulsion was her parents' fault,which I have censured so severely, that I shall hardly be guilty of thesame. I am therefore glad I know her mind as to this essential point.
I have ruined her! she says.--Now that's a fib, take it her own way--if Ihad, she would not, perhaps, have run away from me.
She is thrown upon the wide world! Now I own that Hampstead-heathaffords very pretty and very extensive prospects; but 'tis not the wideworld neither. And suppose that to be her grievance, I hope soon torestore her to a narrower.
I am the enemy of her soul, as well as of her honour!--Confoundedlysevere! Nevertheless, another fib!--For I love her soul very well; butthink no more of it in this case than of my own.
She is to be thrown upon strangers!--And is not that her own fault?--Muchagainst my will, I am sure!
She is cast from a state of independency into one of obligation. Shenever was in a state of independency; nor is it fit a woman should, ofany age, or in any state of life. And as to the state of obligation,there is no such thing as living without being beholden to somebody.Mutual obligation is the very essence and soul of the social andcommercial life:--Why should she be exempt from it? I am sure the personshe raves at desires not such an exemption; has been long dependent uponher; and would rejoice to owe further obligations to her than he canboast of hitherto.
She talks of her father's curse!--But have I not repaid him for it anhundred fold in the same coin? But why must the faults of other peoplebe laid at my door? Have I not enow of my own?
But the grey-eyed dawn begins to peep--let me sum up all.
In short, then, the dear creature's letter is a collection of invectivesnot very new to me: though the occasion for them, no doubt is new to her.A little sprinkling of the romantic and contradictory runs through it.She loves, and she hates; she encourages me to pursue her, by telling meI safely may; and yet she begs I will not. She apprehends poverty andwant, yet resolves to give away her estate; To gratify whom?--Why, inshort, those who have been the cause of her misfortunes. And finally,though she resolves never to be mine, yet she has some regrets at leavingme, because of the opening prospects of a reconciliation with herfriends.
But never did morning dawn so tardily as this!--Neither is the chariotyet come.
***
A gentleman to speak with me, Dorcas?--Who can want me thus early?
Captain Tomlinson, sayest thou? Surely he must have traveled all night!Early riser as I am, how could he think to find me up thus early?
Let but the chariot come, and he shall accompany me in it to the bottomof the hill, (though he return to town on foot; for the Captain is allobliging goodness,) that I may hear all he has to say, and tell him allmy mind, and lose no time.
Well, now I am satisfied that this rebellious flight will turn to myadvantage, as all crushed rebellions do to the advantage of a sovereignin possession.
***
Dear Captain, I rejoice to see you--just in the nick of time--See! See!
The rosy-finger'd morn appears, And from her mantle shakes her tears: The sun arising mortals cheers, And drives the rising mists away, In promise of a glorious day.
Excuse me, Sir, that I salute you from my favourite bard. He that riseswith the lark will sing with the lark. Strange news since I saw you,Captain!--Poor mistaken lady!--But you have too much goodness, I know, toreveal to her uncle Harlowe the error of this capricious beauty. It willall turn out for the best. You must accompany me part of the way. Iknow the delight you take in composing differences. But 'tis the task ofthe prudent to heal the breaches made by the rashness and folly of theimprudent.
***
And now, (all around me so still and so silent,) the rattling of thechariot-wheels at a street's distance do I hear! And to this angel of awoman I fly!
Reward, O God of Love! [The cause is thy own!] Reward thou, as itdeserves, my suffering perseverance!--Succeed my endeavours to bring backto thy obedience this charming fugitive! Make her acknowledge herrashness; repent her insults; implore my forgiveness; beg to bereinstated in my favour, and that I will bury in oblivion the remembranceof her heinous offence against thee, and against me, thy faithful votary.
***
The chariot at the door!--I come! I come!
I attend you, good Captain--
Indeed, Sir--
Pray, Sir--civility is not ceremony.
And now, dressed as a bridegroom, my heart elated beyond that of the mostdesiring one, (attended by a footman whom my beloved never saw,) I amalready at Hampstead!