LETTER XXV
MR. BELFORD, TO ROBERT LOVELACE, ESQ.
O Lovelace! I have a scene to paint in relation to the wretched Sinclair,that, if I do it justice, will make thee seriously ponder and reflect, ornothing can. I will lead thee to it in order; and that in my usual hand,that thy compeers may be able to read it as well as thyself.
When I had written the preceding letter, not knowing what to do withmyself, recollecting, and in vain wishing for that delightful andimproving conversation, which I had now for ever lost; I thought I had asgood begin the task, which I had for some time past resolved to begin;that is to say, to go to church; and see if I could not reap some benefitfrom what I should hear there. Accordingly I determined to go to hearthe celebrated preacher at St. James's church. But, as if the devil (forso I was then ready to conclude) thought himself concerned to prevent myintention, a visit was made me, just as I was dressed, which took me offfrom my purpose.
From whom should this visit be, but from Sally Martin, accompanied byMrs. Carter, the sister of the infamous Sinclair! the same, I suppose Ineed not tell you, who keeps the bagnio near Bloomsbury.
These told me that the surgeon, apothecary, and physician, had all giventhe wretched woman over; but that she said, she should not die, nor be atrest, till she saw me; and they besought me to accompany them in thecoach they came in, if I had one spark of charity, of christian charity,as they called it, left.
I was very loth to be diverted from my purpose by a request so unwelcome,and from people so abhorred; but at last went, and we got thither by ten;where a scene so shocking presented itself to me, that the death of poordesponding Belton is not, I think, to be compared with it.
The old wretch had once put her leg out by her rage and violence, and hadbeen crying, scolding, cursing, ever since the preceding evening, thatthe surgeon had told her it was impossible to save her; and that amortification had begun to show itself; insomuch that, purely incompassion to their own ears, they had been forced to send for anothersurgeon, purposely to tell her, though against his judgment, and (being afriend of the other) to seem to convince him, that he mistook the case;and that if she would be patient, she might recover. But, nevertheless,her apprehensions of death, and her antipathy to the thoughts of dying,were so strong, that their imposture had not the intended effect, and shewas raving, crying, cursing, and even howling, more like a wolf than ahuman creature, when I came; so that as I went up stairs, I said, Surelythis noise, this howling, cannot be from the unhappy woman! Sally saidit was; and assured me, that it was noting to the noise she had made allnight; and stepping into her room before me, dear Madam Sinclair, saidshe, forbear this noise! It is more like that of a bull than a woman!--Here comes Mr. Belford; and you'll fright him away if you bellow at thisrate.
There were no less than eight of her cursed daughters surrounding her bedwhen I entered; one of her partners, Polly Horton, at their head; and nowSally, her other partner, and Madam Carter, as they called her, (for theyare all Madams with one another,) made the number ten; all in shockingdishabille, and without stays, except Sally, Carter, and Polly; who, notdaring to leave her, had not been in bed all night.
The other seven seemed to have been but just up, risen perhaps from theircustomers in the fore-house, and their nocturnal orgies, with faces,three or four of them, that had run, the paint lying in streaky seams nothalf blowzed off, discovering coarse wrinkled skins: the hair of some ofthem of divers colours, obliged to the black-lead comb where black wasaffected; the artificial jet, however, yielding apace to the naturalbrindle: that of others plastered with oil and powder; the oilpredominating: but every one's hanging about her ears and neck in brokencurls, or ragged ends; and each at my entrance taken with one motion,stroking their matted locks with both hands under their coifs, mobs, orpinners, every one of which was awry. They were all slip-shoed;stockingless some; only under-petticoated all; their gowns, made to coverstraddling hoops, hanging trollopy, and tangling about their heels; buthastily wrapt round them, as soon as I came up stairs. And half of them(unpadded, shoulder-bent, pallid-lips, limber-jointed wretches)appearing, from a blooming nineteen or twenty perhaps over-night, haggardwell-worn strumpets of thirty-eight or forty.
I am the more particular in describing to thee the appearance thesecreatures made in my eyes when I came into the room, because I believethou never sawest any of them, much less a group of them, thus unpreparedfor being seen.* I, for my part, never did before; nor had I now, butupon this occasion, being thus favoured. If thou hadst, I believe thouwouldst hate a profligate woman, as one of Swift's yahoos, or Virgil'sobscene harpies, squirting their ordure upon the Trojan trenches; sincethe persons of such in their retirements are as filthy as their minds.--Hate them as much as I do; and as much as I admire, and next to adore, atruly virtuous and elegant woman: for to me it is evident, that as a neatand clean woman must be an angel of a creature, so a sluttish one is theimpurest animal in nature. But these were the veterans, the chosen band;for now-and-then flitted in to the number of half a dozen or more, byturns, subordinate sinners, under-graduates, younger than some of thechosen phalanx, but not less obscene in their appearance, though indeednot so much beholden to the plastering focus; yet unpropt by stays,squalid, loose in attire, sluggish-haired, uner-petticoated only as theformer, eyes half-opened, winking and pinking, mispatched, yawning,stretching, as if from the unworn-off effects of the midnight revel; allarmed in succession with supplies of cordials (of which every one presentwas either taster or partaker) under the direction of the busier Dorcas,who frequently popt in, to see her slops duly given and taken.
* Whoever has seen Dean Swift's Lady's Dressing room, will think thisdescription of Mr. Belford's not only more natural, but more decentpainting, as well as better justified by the design, and by the use thatmay be made of it.
But when I approached the old wretch, what a spectacle presented itselfto my eyes!
Her misfortune has not at all sunk, but rather, as I thought, increasedher flesh; rage and violence perhaps swelling her muscular features.Behold her, then, spreading the whole troubled bed with her huge quaggycarcase: her mill-post arms held up; her broad hands clenched withviolence; her big eyes, goggling and flaming ready as we may supposethose of a salamander; her matted griesly hair, made irreverend by herwickedness (her clouted head-dress being half off, spread about her fatears and brawny neck;) her livid lips parched, and working violently;her broad chin in convulsive motion; her wide mouth, by reason of thecontraction of her forehead (which seemed to be half-lost in its ownfrightful furrows) splitting her face, as it were, into two parts; andher huge tongue hideously rolling in it; heaving, puffing as if fourbreath; her bellows-shaped and various-coloured breasts ascending byturns to her chin, and descending out of sight, with the violence of hergaspings.
This was the spectacle, as recollection has enabled me to describe it,that this wretch made to my eye, by her suffragans and daughters, whosurveyed her with scouling frighted attention, which one might easilysee had more in it of horror and self-concern (and self-condemnation too)than of love or pity; as who should say, See! what we ourselves must oneday be!
As soon as she saw me, her naturally-big voice, more hoarsened by herravings, broke upon me: O Mr. Belford! O Sir! see what I am come to!--See what I am brought to!--To have such a cursed crew about me, and notone of them to take care of me! But to let me tumble down stairs sodistant from the room I went from! so distant from the room I meant to goto!--Cursed, cursed be every careless devil!--May this or worse be theirfate every one of them!
And then she cursed and swore most vehemently, and the more, as two orthree of them were excusing themselves on the score of their being atthat time as unable to help themselves as she. As soon as she hadcleared the passage of her throat by the oaths and curses which her wildimpatience made her utter, she began in a more hollow and whining strainto bemoan herself. And here, said she--Heaven grant me patience![clenching and unclenching her hands] am I to die thus miserably!--of
abroken leg in my old age!--snatched away by means of my own intemperance!Self-do! Self-undone!--No time for my affairs! No time to repent!--Andin a few hours (Oh!--Oh!--with another long howling O--h!--U--gh--o! akind of screaming key terminating it) who knows, who can tell where Ishall be?--Oh! that indeed I never, never, had had a being!
What could one say to such a wretch as this, whose whole life had beenspent in the most diffusive wickedness, and who no doubt has numbers ofsouls to answer for? Yet I told her, she must be patient: that herviolence made her worse: and that, if she would compose herself, shemight get into a frame more proper for her present circumstances.
Who, I? interrupted she: I get into a better frame! I, who can neithercry, nor pray! Yet already feel the torments of the d----d! What mercycan I expect? What hope is left for me?--Then, that sweet creature! thatincomparable Miss Harlowe! she, it seems, is dead and gone! O thatcursed man! Had it not been for him! I had never had this, the mostcrying of all my sins, to answer for!
And then she set up another howl.
And is she dead?--Indeed dead? proceeded she, when her howl was over--Owhat an angel have I been the means of destroying! For though it wasthat it was mine, and your's, and your's, and your's, devils as we allwere [turning to Sally, to Polly, and to one or two more] that he did notdo her justice! And that, that is my curse, and will one day be yours!And then again she howled.
I still advised patience. I said, that if her time were to be so shortas she apprehended, the more ought she to endeavour to compose herself:and then she would at least die with more ease to herself--andsatisfaction to her friends, I was going to say--But the word die put herinto a violent raving, and thus she broke in upon me. Die, did you say,Sir?--Die!--I will not, I cannot die!--I know not how to die!--Die, Sir!--And must I then die?--Leave this world?--I cannot bear it!--And whobrought you hither, Sir?--[her eyes striking fire at me] Who brought youhither to tell me I must die, Sir?--I cannot, I will not leave thisworld. Let others die, who wish for another! who expect a better!--Ihave had my plagues in this; but would compound for all future hopes, soas I may be nothing after this!
And then she howled and bellowed by turns.
By my faith, Lovelace, I trembled in every joint; and looking upon herwho spoke this, and roared thus, and upon the company round me, I morethan once thought myself to be in one of the infernal mansions.
Yet will I proceed, and try, for thy good, if I can shock thee but halfas much with my descriptions, as I was shocked with what I saw and heard.
Sally!--Polly!--Sister Carter! said she, did you not tell me I mightrecover? Did not the surgeon tell me I might?
And so you may, cried Sally; Monsieur Garon says you may, if you'll bepatient. But, as I have often told you this blessed morning, you arereader to take despair from your own fears, than comfort from all thehope we can give you.
Yet, cried the wretch, interrupting, does not Mr. Belford (and to him youhave told the truth, though you won't to me; does not he) tell me that Ishall die?--I cannot bear it! I cannot bear the thoughts of dying!
And then, but that half a dozen at once endeavoured to keep down herviolent hands, would she have beaten herself; as it seems she had oftenattempted to do from the time the surgeon popt out the word mortificationto her.
Well, but to what purpose, said I (turning aside to her sister, and toSally and Polly), are these hopes given her, if the gentlemen of thefaculty give her over? You should let her know the worst, and then shemust submit; for there is no running away from death. If she had anymatters to settle, put her upon settling them; and do not, by telling hershe will live, when there is no room to expect it, take from her theopportunity of doing needful things. Do the surgeons actually give herover?
They do, whispered they. Her gross habit, they say, gives no hopes. Wehave sent for both surgeons, whom we expect every minute.
Both the surgeons (who are French; for Mrs. Sinclair has heard Tourvillelaunch out in the praise of French surgeons) came in while we were thustalking. I retired to the farther end of the room, and threw up a windowfor a little air, being half-poisoned by the effluvia arising from somany contaminated carcases; which gave me no imperfect idea of the stenchof gaols, which, corrupting the ambient air, gives what is called theprison distemper.
I came back to the bed-side when the surgeons had inspected the fracture;and asked them, If there were any expectation of her life?
One of them whispered me, there was none: that she had a strong feverupon her, which alone, in such a habit, would probably do the business;and that the mortification had visibly gained upon her since they werethere six hours ago.
Will amputation save her? Her affairs and her mind want settling. Afew days added to her life may be of service to her in both respects.
They told me the fracture was high in her leg; that the knee was greatlybruised; that the mortification, in all probability, had spread half-wayof the femur: and then, getting me between them, (three or four of thewomen joining us, and listening with their mouths open, and all the signsof ignorant wonder in their faces, as there appeared of self-sufficiencyin those of the artists,) did they by turns fill my ears with ananatomical description of the leg and thigh; running over with terms ofart, of the tarsus, the metatarsus, the tibia, the fibula, the patella,the os tali, the os tibae, the tibialis posticus and tibialis anticus, upto the os femoris, to the acetabulum of the os ischion, the greattrochanter, glutaeus, triceps, lividus, and little rotators; in short, ofall the muscles, cartilages, and bones, that constitute the leg and thighfrom the great toe to the hip; as if they would show me, that all theirscience had penetrated their heads no farther than their mouths; whileSally lifted up her hands with a Laud bless me! Are all surgeons solearned!--But at last both the gentlemen declared, that if she and herfriends would consent to amputation, they would whip off her leg in amoment.
Mrs. Carter asked, To what purpose, if the operation would not save her?
Very true, they said; but it might be a satisfaction to the patient'sfriends, that all was done that could be done.
And so the poor wretch was to be lanced and quartered, as I may say, foran experiment only! And, without any hope of benefit from the operation,was to pay the surgeons for tormenting her!
I cannot but say I have a mean opinion of both these gentlemen, who,though they make a figure, it seems, in their way of living, and boastnot only French extraction, but a Paris education, never will make any intheir practice.
How unlike my honest English friend Tomkins, a plain serious, intelligentman, whose art lies deeper than in words; who always avoids parade andjargon; and endeavours to make every one as much a judge of what he isabout as himself!
All the time that the surgeons ran on with their anatomical process, thewretched woman most frightfully roared and bellowed; which the gentlemen(who showed themselves to be of the class of those who are not affectedwith the evils they do not feel,) took no other notice of, than byraising their voices to be heard, as she raised her's--being evidentlymore solicitous to increase their acquaintance, and to propagate thenotion of their skill, than to attend to the clamours of the poor wretchwhom they were called in to relieve; though by this very means, like thedog and the shadow in the fable, they lost both aims with me; for I neverwas deceived in one rule, which I made early; to wit, that the stillestwater is the deepest, while the bubbling stream only betrays shallowness;and that stones and pebbles lie there so near the surface, to point outthe best place to ford a river dry shod.
As nobody cared to tell the unhappy wretch what every one apprehendedmust follow, and what the surgeons convinced me soon would, I undertookto be the denouncer of her doom. Accordingly, the operators beingwithdrawn, I sat down by the bed-side, and said, Come, Mrs. Sinclair, letme advise you to forbear these ravings at the carelessness of those, who,I find, at the time, could take no care of themselves; and since theaccident has happened, and cannot be remedied, to resolve to make thebest of the matter: for all this violence but
enrages the malady, and youwill probably fall into a delirium, if you give way to it, which willdeprive you of that reason which you ought to make the best of for thetime it may be lent you.
She turned her head towards me, and hearing me speak with a determinedvoice, and seeing me assume as determined an air, became more calm andattentive.
I went on, telling her, that I was glad, from the hints she had given,to find her concerned for her past misspent life, and particularly forthe part she had had in the ruin of the most excellent woman on earth:that if she would compose herself, and patiently submit to theconsequences of an evil she had brought upon herself, it might possiblybe happy for her yet. Meantime, continued I, tell me, with temper andcalmness, why was you so desirous to see me?
She seemed to be in great confusion of thought, and turned her head thisway and that; and at last, after much hesitation, said, Alad for me! Ihardly know what I wanted with you. When I awoke from my intemperatetrance, and found what a cursed way I was in, my conscience smote me, andI was for catching like a drowning wretch, at every straw. I wanted tosee every body and any body but those I did see; every body who I thoughtcould give me comfort. Yet could I expect none from you neither; for youhad declared yourself my enemy, although I had never done you harm; forwhat, Jackey, in her old tone, whining through her nose, was Miss Harloweto you?--But she is happy!--But oh! what will become of me?--Yet tell me,(for the surgeons have told you the truth, no doubt,) tell me, shall I dowell again? May I recover? If I may, I will begin a new course of life:as I hope to be saved, I will. I'll renounce you all--every one of you,[looking round her,] and scrape all I can together, and live a life ofpenitence; and when I die, leave it all to charitable uses--I will, by mysoul--every doit of it to charity--but this once, lifting up her rollingeyes, and folded hands, (with a wry-mouthed earnestness, in which everymuscle and feature of her face bore its part,) this one time--good God ofHeaven and earth, but this once! this once! repeating those words five orsix times, spare thy poor creature, and every hour of my life shall bepassed in penitence and atonement: upon my soul it shall!
Less vehement! a little less vehement! said I--it is not for me, who haveled so free a life, as you but too well know, to talk to you in areproaching strain, and to set before you the iniquity you have lived in,and the many souls you have helped to destroy. But as you are in sopenitent a way, if I might advise, you should send for a good clergyman,the purity of whose life and manners may make all these things come fromhim with a better grace than they can from me.
How, Sir! What, Sir! interrupting me: send for a parson!--Then youindeed think I shall die! Then you think there is no room for hope!----Aparson, Sir!----Who sends for a parson, while there is any hope left?--The sight of a parson would be death immediate to me!--I cannot, cannotdie!--Never tell me of it!--What! die!--What! cut off in the midst of mysins!
And then she began again to rave.
I cannot bear, said I, rising from my seat with a stern air, to see areasonable creature behave so outrageously!--Will this vehemence, thinkyou, mend the matter? Will it avail you any thing? Will it not rathershorten the life you are so desirous to have lengthened, and deprive youof the only opportunity you can ever have to settle your affairs for bothworlds?--Death is but the common lot: and if it be your's soon, lookingat her, it will be also your's, and your's, and your's, speaking with araised voice, and turning to every trembling devil round her, [for theyall shook at my forcible application,] and mine too. And you have reasonto be thankful, turning again to her, that you did not perish in that actof intemperance which brought you to this: for it might have been yourneck, as well as your leg; and then you had not had the opportunity younow have for repentance--and, the Lord have mercy upon you! into what astate might you have awoke!
Then did the poor wretch set up an inarticulate frightful howl, such aone as I never before heard of her; and seeing every one half-frighted,and me motioning to withdraw, O pity me, pity me, Mr. Belford, cried she,her words interrupted by groans--I find you think I shall die!--And whatmay I be, and where, in a very few hours--who can tell?
I told her it was vain to flatter her: it was my opinion she would notrecover.
I was going to re-advise her to calm her spirits, and endeavour to resignherself, and to make the beset of the opportunity yet left her; but thisdeclaration set her into a most outrageous raving. She would have tornher hair, and beaten her breast, had not some of the wretches held herhands by force, while others kept her as steady as they could, lest sheshould again put out her new-set leg; so that, seeing her thus incapableof advice, and in a perfect phrensy, I told Sally Martin, that there wasno bearing the room; and that their best way was to send for a ministerto pray by her, and to reason with her, as soon as she should be capableof it. And so I left them; and never was so sensible of the benefit offresh air, as I was the moment I entered the street.
Nor is it to be wondered at, when it is considered that, to the variousill smells that will always be found in a close sick bed-room, (forgenerally, when the physician comes, the air is shut out,) this of Mrs.Sinclair was the more particularly offensive, as, to the scent ofplasters, salves, and ointments, were added the stenches of spirituousliquors, burnt and unburnt, of all denominations; for one or other ofthe creatures, under pretence of colics, gripes, or qualms, werecontinually calling for supplies of these, all the time I was there.And yet this is thought to be a genteel house of the sort; and all theprostitutes in it are prostitutes of price, and their visiters people ofnote.
O, Lovelace! what lives do most of us rakes and libertines lead! whatcompany do we keep! And, for such company, what society renounce, orendeavour to make like these!
What woman, nice in her person, and of purity in her mind and manners,did she know what miry wallowers the generality of men of our class arein themselves, and constantly trough and sty with, but would detest thethoughts of associating with such filthy sensualists, whose favouritetaste carries them to mingle with the dregs of stews, brothels, andcommon sewers?
Yet, to such a choice are many worthy women betrayed, by that false andinconsiderate notion, raised and propagated, no doubt, by the author ofall delusion, that a reformed rake makes the best husband. We rakes,indeed, are bold enough to suppose, that women in general are as muchrakes in their hearts, as the libertines some of them suffer themselvesto be take with are in their practice. A supposition, therefore, whichit behoves persons of true honour of that sex to discountenance, byrejecting the address of every man, whose character will not stand thetest of that virtue which is the glory of a woman: and indeed, I maysay, of a man too: why should it not?
How, indeed, can it be, if this point be duly weighed, that a man whothinks alike of all the sex, and knows it to be in the power of a wifeto do him the greatest dishonour man can receive, and doubts not her willto do it, if opportunity offer, and importunity be not wanting: that sucha one, from principle, should be a good husband to any woman? And,indeed, little do innocents think, what a total revolution of manners,what a change of fixed habits, nay, what a conquest of a bad nature, andwhat a portion of Divine GRACE, is required, to make a man a goodhusband, a worthy father, and true friend, from principle; especiallywhen it is considered, that it is not in a man's own power to reform whenhe will. This, (to say nothing of my own experience,) thou, Lovelace,hast found in the progress of thy attempts upon the divine Miss Harlowe.For whose remorses could be deeper, or more frequent, yet more transientthan thine!
Now, Lovelace, let me know if the word grace can be read from my penwithout a sneer from thee and thy associates? I own that once it soundedoddly in my ears. But I shall never forget what a grave man once said onthis very word--that with him it was a rake's sibboleth.* He had alwayshopes of one who could bear the mention of it without ridiculing it; andever gave him up for an abandoned man, who made a jest of it, or of himwho used it.
* See Judges xii. 6.
Don't be disgusted, that I mingle such grave reflections as these with myn
arratives. It becomes me, in my present way of thinking, to do so, whenI see, in Miss Harlowe, how all human excellence, and in poor Belton, howall inhuman libertinism, and am near seeing in this abandoned woman, howall diabolical profligacy, end. And glad should I be for your own sake,for your splendid family's sake, and for the sake of all your intimatesand acquaintance, that you were labouring under the same impressions,that so we who have been companions in (and promoters of one another's)wickedness, might join in a general atonement to the utmost of our power.
I came home reflecting upon all these things, more edifying to me thanany sermon I could have heard preached: and I shall conclude this longletter with observing, that although I left the wretched howler in a highphrensy-fit, which was excessively shocking to the by-standers; yet herphrensy must be the happiest part of her dreadful condition: for when sheis herself, as it is called, what must be her reflections upon her pastprofligate life, throughout which it has been her constant delight andbusiness, devil-like, to make others as wicked as herself! What must herterrors be (a hell already begun in her mind!) on looking forward to thedreadful state she is now upon the verge of!--But I drop my tremblingpen.
To have done with so shocking a subject at once, we shall take notice, that Mr. Belford, in a future letter, writes, that the miserable woman, to the surprise of the operators themselves, (through hourly increasing tortures of body and mind,) held out so long as till Thursday, Sept. 21; and then died in such agonies as terrified into a transitory penitence all the wretches about her.