My beloved master parted from me with great tenderness; and I came up, and sat down to write to you, my dear parents, all these most agreeable particulars. It is now past twelve o’clock, and Mrs Jewkes being come up, I will go to-bed; but not one wink, I fear, shall I get this night. I could beat myself for my folly. Sure there is nothing ominous in this strange perverseness! But is it not usual for all thoughtful young women to have the same anxieties so near so great a change of condition, though they carry it off more discreetly than I?
THURSDAY, Six o’clock in the Morning
I might as well have not gone to-bed last night, for what sleep I had. Mrs Jewkes often was talking to me, and said several things that would have been well enough from any body else of our sex; but the poor woman has so little purity of heart, that it is all say from her, and goes no further than the ear.
I fancy my master has not slept much neither; for I heard him up, and walking about his chamber, ever since break of day. To be sure, he must have some concern, as well as I; for here he is going to marry a poor foolish unworthy girl, brought up by the bounty of his worthy family! And this foolish girl must be, to all intents and purposes, after twelve o’clock this day, as much his wife as if he were to marry a duchess. And here he must stand the shock of common reflection. ‘The great Mr B. has done finely! he has married his poor servant wench!’ will some say. The ridicule and rude jests of his equals, and companions too, he must stand: and the disdain of his relations, and indignation of Lady Davers, his lofty sister! O how shall I compensate him for the disgraces which he will bring upon himself for my sake! I can only do the best I can; and pray to God to reward him, and resolve to love him with a pure heart, and serve him with a sincere obedience. I hope he will continue to love me for this; for, alas! I have nothing else to offer. But, as I can hardly expect so great a blessing, if I can be secure from his contempt, I shall not be unhappy; and must bear his indifference, if his rich friends should inspire him with it, and proceed with doing my duty with chearfulness.
Half an Hour past Eight o’ clock
My dear master, my kind friend, my generous benefactor, my worthy protector, and, oh! all the good words in one, my affectionate husband that is soon to be, (Be curbed in, my proud heart, know thyself, and be conscious of thy own unworthiness!) has just left me with the kindest, tenderest expressions, that ever were uttered to a happy maiden. He approached me with a sort of reined-in rapture. ‘My Pamela!’ said he, ‘may I just ask after your employment? Why such anxiety in this lovely face?’ and he tapped my cheek. ‘Don’t let me chide my dear girl this day. The two clergymen will be here to breakfast with us at nine; and yet you seem not to have thought of dressing! Why this absence of mind? Why this sweet irresolution ?’
‘Indeed, sir,’ said I, ‘I will correct myself this instant!’
He saw the common-prayer-book lying in the window. ‘I hope,’ said he, ‘my lovely girl has been conning274 the lesson she is by-and-by to repeat. Have you not, Pamela?’ and clasped his arms about me, and kissed me. ‘Indeed, sir,’ said I, ‘I have been reading over the solemn service!’ ‘And what thinks my fairest’ (for so he called me) ‘of it?’ ‘O sir,’ said I, ‘’tis a very solemn, a very awful service; and, joined with the nearness of the great, though joyfully hoped-for solemnity, makes one tremble to reflect upon it!’ ‘No wonder,’ said he, ‘it should affect my sweet Pamela: I have been looking into it this morning, and cannot but say, as you do, that I think it a solemn office. But this I tell my dear love,’ continued he, and again clasped me to him, ‘there is not a tittle in it that I cannot joyfully subscribe to.’ I kissed his hand; ‘O my generous protector,’ said I, ‘how gracious it is to strengthen thus the mind of your Pamela, which apprehends nothing so much as her own unworthiness!’ ‘You must judge of yourself, my love,’ said he, ‘in some measure, as I judge of you. If I think you worthy, you have only to preserve those graces which have made you so in my eye, and banish all doubt of yourself, as my whole future conduct shall shew you, that you shall have no reason for any of me.’
‘Forbid me not, sir, to doubt myself. It will become me to be diffident, in order to be secure. But your goodness I cannot doubt, after such instances of it. Love but your Pamela, as she will endeavour to deserve your favour, I hardly dare to say your love: and what a punishment does that imply, if I should not preserve that duty, and that gratitude, which have made me appear so worthy in your eyes, though it cannot in my own!’
‘Call it favour, call it love, what you please, my dear girl, call it: but I shall know no other language to you, but what love, true and ardent love, inspires. For, let me tell my Pamela, that, after having been long tossed about by the boisterous winds of culpable passion, I am not now so much the admirer of your beauty, all charming as you are, as of your virtue. My love therefore must increase, even should this perishable beauty fail, as the station of life you are now entering upon, will afford you augmented opportunities to display your virtue!’ The charming man! how nobly, how encouragingly kind was all this!
‘But why loses my dear girl her time? I was willing to say something to assure your doubting mind. As I have acted heretofore, I could not say less than I have said. Adieu, my lovely girl, be chear-ful!’
He kissed me again, and then retired, as respectfully as if your happy daughter were his equal, or even of such high fortunes as to do him honour by her hand. And I set about dressing myself immediately in a rich white satin night-gown, that had been my lady’s; and, never being long about it, I was ready in an instant; and not being called down, took up my pen, and wrote thus far.
I have got such a knack of writing, that, when I am by myself, I cannot sit without a pen in my hand. But I am now called to breakfast I suppose the gentlemen are come. Courage, Pamela! Fie upon it! My heart begins to flutter again! Foolish heart, lie still! Never sure was any maiden’s heart under so little command as mine!
THURSDAY, near Three o’ clock
I thought I should have found no time nor heart to write again this day. But here are three gentlemen come unexpectedly, with a determination to stay to dinner; though my beloved master did all he could in civility to dismiss them. Having, therefore, nothing to do but write till I go to dinner myself with Mrs Jewkes, I will begin with my happy story where I left off.
But first let me observe, that the dear man forbade me to use the word master, either in speech or writing. But I insisted, that I could not dispense with it for the present. In obedience to him, I said, it might wear off by degrees; but I must continue the style, at least, till he thought fit to declare the honour done me.275
When I went down to breakfast, I found Mr Peters and Mr Williams both there. My master met me at the door, and led me in with great tenderness. He had kindly spoken to them, as he told me afterwards, to mention no more of the matter to me than needs must. I paid my respects to them, I believe, a little aukwardly, and was almost out of breath; but said, I had come down a little too fast.
When Abraham came in to wait, my master said (that the servants should not mistrust), ‘’Tis well, gentlemen, you came as you did: for my good girl and I were going to take an airing till dinner-time. I hope you’ll stay and dine with me.’ ‘Sir,’ said Mr Peters, ‘we will not hinder your airing. I came, having a little time upon my hands, to see your chapel; but must be at home at dinner; and Mr Williams will dine with me.’ ‘Well then,’ said my master, ‘we will pursue our intention, and ride out for an hour or two, as soon as I have shewn Mr Peters my little chapel. Will you, Pamela, after breakfast, walk with us to it?’ ‘If – if,’ said I, and had like to have stammered (foolish creature that I was!) ‘ if you please, sir.’
I could eat nothing, though I attempted it; and my hand shook so, I spilled some of my chocolate, and so put it down again. They were all very good, and looked another way. My master said, when Abraham left the room, ‘I have a quite plain ring here, Mr Peters. And I hope the ceremony will dignify the ring: and that I shall give my Pamela reason to
think it the most valuable one that can be presented her.’ Mr Peters kindly answered, he was sure I should set a higher value on it, than on the richest diamond one in the world.
I had bid Mrs Jewkes not to dress herself, lest she should give cause of mistrust.
When breakfast was over, my master said before Abraham, ‘Well, gentlemen, we will step into the chapel; and you must give me your advice as to the alterations I design. Pamela, you’ll give us your opinion, won’t you?’ ‘Sir,’ said I, ‘I will attend you instantly.’
They went out, and I sat down in the chair again, and fanned myself. ‘I am sick at heart,’ said I, ‘I think, Mrs Jewkes.’ She would have given me her smelling-bottle; but I said, ‘Keep it in your hand. Perhaps I shall want it; but I hope not.’
She gave me very good words; and I stood up, but my knees beat so against each other, I was forced to sit down again. But, at last, I held by her arm; and passing by Abraham, I said, ‘Do you know what alterations there are to be in the chapel, that we must all give our opinions of them?’
Nan, she told me, was let into the secret; and she had ordered her to stay at the chapel-door, to see that nobody came in. My master came to me, at entering the chapel, and took my hand, and led me up to the altar. ‘Be chearful, my dear girl,’ whispered he. ‘I am, I will, sir,’ said I; but I hardly knew what I said; and so you may believe, when I said to Mrs Jewkes, ‘Don’t leave me; pray, Mrs Jewkes, don’t leave me’: as if I had all confidence in her, and none where it is most due. So she kept close to me. God forgive me! but I never was so absent in my life, as at first. Even till Mr Williams had gone on in the service so far as to the awful words requiring us, as we should answer at the dreadful day of judgment; and then the solemn words, and my master whispering, ‘Mind this, my dear,’ made me start. Said he, still whispering, ‘Know you any impediment?’ I blushed, and said softly, ‘None, sir, but my great un-worthiness.’
Then followed the sweet words, ‘ Wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife’, &c. and I began to take courage a little, when my dearest master answered audibly to this question, ‘I will.’ But I could only make a curt’sy, when they asked me; though, I am sure, my heart was readier than my speech, and answered to every article of obey, serve, love, and honour.
Mr Peters gave me away; and I said after Mr Williams, as well as I could (as my dear master did with a much better grace) the words of betrothment; and the ceremony of the ring passing next, I received the dear favour, at his worthy hands, with a most grateful heart; and he was pleased to say afterwards, in the chariot, That when he had done saying, ‘With this ring I thee wed,’ &c. I made a curt’sy, and said, ‘Thank you, sir.’ Perhaps I did, for I am sure it was a most grateful part of the service; and my heart was overwhelmed with his goodness; and the tender grace wherewith he performed his whole part. I was very glad that what followed was the prayer, and kneeling; for I trembled so, I could hardly stand; but it was as much with joy as fear.
The joining of our hands afterwards, the declaration of our being married, to the few witnesses present; (one of which was Nan, whose curiosity would not let her stand at the door) the blessing, the psalm, and the subsequent prayers, and the concluding exhortation, were such welcome as well as beautiful parts of this sacred office, that my heart began to be delighted with them, and my spirits to be a little freer.
And thus, my dearest, dear parents, is your happy, happy, thrice happy Pamela, at last married! And to whom? Why, to her beloved, gracious master! the lord of her wishes! And thus the dear, once naughty assailer of her innocence, by a blessed turn of Providence, is become the kind, the generous protector and re-warder of it. God be ever more blessed and praised! and make me not wholly unworthy of such an honour! And bless and reward the dear, dear man, who has thus exalted his unworthy servant, and given her a place, which the greatest ladies would think themselves happy in!
My master saluted me most ardently, and said, ‘God gives you, my dear love, reason for as much joy on this occasion, as I now have.’ And he presented me to Mr Peters, who saluted me; and said, ‘You may excuse me, dear madam; I gave you away: you are my daughter.’ And Mr Williams modestly withdrawing a little way, ‘Mr Williams,’ said my master, ‘pray accept my thanks, and wish your sister joy.’ He then saluted me; and said, ‘I do, madam, from my heart: and I will add, that to see so much innocence and virtue so eminently rewarded, is one of the greatest pleasures I have ever known.’
Mrs Jewkes, by surprize, snatched my hand, and kissed it at the chapel-door; had she kissed my cheek, I should not have been displeased. I had got a new recruit of spirits just then; and taking her hand, ‘I thank you, Mrs Jewkes,’ said I, ‘for accompanying me, I have behaved sadly.’ ‘No, madam,’ said she, ‘pretty well, pretty well.’
Mr Peters walked out with me; and Mr Williams and my master followed us, talking together.
Mr Peters, when he came into the parlour, said, ‘I once more, madam, must wish you joy on this happy occasion. May every day add to your felicity; and may you very long rejoice in one another! You are the loveliest couple I ever saw joined in matrimony.’
My master came in with Mr Williams. ‘So, my dear life,’ said he, ‘how do you do? A little more composed, I hope! Well, you see this is not so dreadful an affair as you apprehended.’
‘Sir,’ said Mr Peters, very kindly, ‘’tis a very solemn circumstance, and I love to see it so reverently and awfully entered into. It is an excellent sign; for the most thoughtful beginnings promise the most happy proceedings.’
My master took a fine diamond ring from his finger, and presented it to Mr Peters. And to Mr Williams he said, ‘My old acquaintance, I have reserved for you, against a variety of solicitations, the living I always designed for you; and I beg you’ll prepare to take possession of it; and as the doing it may be attended with some expence, pray accept of this towards it,’ giving him a bank-note of 100l.276
And thus did this generous man bless us all, and me in particular; for whose sake he was as bounteous as if he had married a woman of the noblest fortune.
The two gentlemen took their leaves; and none of the servants suspected any thing, as Mrs Jewkes believes. And then, being alone with my beloved master, I threw myself at his feet, and blessed God, and blessed him for his goodness. He overwhelmed me with kindness; he called me his lovely bride, and twenty sweet and endearing names, which swell my grateful heart beyond the power even of repetition.
He afterwards led me to the chariot; and we had a delightful airing round the neighbouring villages; in which he said an hundred charming things, in hopes to dissipate those still perverse anxieties that dwell upon my mind, and, do what I can, spread too thoughtful an air, as he tells me, over my countenance.
We came home again by half an hour after one; and he was pleasing himself with thinking not to be an hour out of my company this happy day, that (as he was so good as to say) he might inspire me with a familiarity that should improve my confidence in him; when he was told that a footman of Sir Charles Hargrave had been there, to let him know that his master, and two other gentlemen, were on the road to take a dinner with him, in their way to Nottingham.
He was vexed at this. He should have been glad of their companies at any other time, he told me, but that it was a cruel intrusion now. He wished they had been told he would not be at home at dinner, ‘And besides,’ said he, ‘they are abominable drinkers. I shall hardly be able to get them away to-night; for they have nothing to do but to travel round the country, and beat up the quarters277 of their friends all the way; and ‘tis all one to them, whether they stay a night, or a month, at a place. But,’ added he, ‘I’ll find some way, if I can, to dismiss them after dinner. Confound them,’ said he, in a violent pet,278 ‘that they should come this day, of all the days in the year!’
We had hardly got in, before they came; three mad rakes, they seemed to be, as I looked through the window, setting up a hunting-note, as soon as they came to the gate, that made the court-yard echo again
, and smacking their whips in concert.
I retired to my closet, and had recourse to my pen and ink, for my amusement, and to divert my anxiety of mind.
If one’s heart is so sad, and one’s apprehension so great, where one greatly loves, and is highly obliged; what must be the case of those poor young creatures, who are compelled, by their tyrannical parents, to marry the man they almost hate, and, perhaps, to the losing of the man they most love? That is a sad thing indeed! And what have not such cruel parents to answer for? And what do not such innocent victims suffer?
My master came up to me, and said, ‘Well, I just come to ask my sweet bride’ [O the charming, charming word!] ‘how she does? I see you are writing, my dear,’ said he. ‘These confounded rakes are half mad, I think, and will make me so! However,’ continued he, ‘I have ordered my chariot to be got ready, pretending to be under an engagement at some miles distance, and will set them out of the house, if possible; and then ride round, and come back, as soon as I can get rid of them. I find,’ said he, ‘Lady Davers is full of our affairs. She has thought fit to speak of me to Sir Charles Hargrave, with great freedom; and they all three have been at me without mercy; and were so earnest to see you, that I was obliged to be half serious with them.’ He saluted me, and retired, saying, ‘I shall quarrel with them, if I cannot get them away; for I have lost two or three precious hours with the delight of my heart.’
Mrs Jewkes asked me to walk down to dinner in the little parlour. I went, and she was so complaisant as to offer to wait upon me at table. But I insisted on her sitting down with me. ‘Whatever my new station may require of me, Mrs Jewkes,’ said I, ‘I hope I shall always conduct myself in such a manner, that pride shall have no part in my character.’
‘You are very good, madam,’ said she; ‘but I will always know my duty to my master’s lady.’