<p><SPAN name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"></SPAN></p>
<h2> CHAPTER 5 </h2>
<p>"MY FATHER," said Jemima, "seduced my mother, a pretty girl, with whom he
lived fellow-servant; and she no sooner perceived the natural, the dreaded
consequence, than the terrible conviction flashed on her—that she
was ruined. Honesty, and a regard for her reputation, had been the only
principles inculcated by her mother; and they had been so forcibly
impressed, that she feared shame, more than the poverty to which it would
lead. Her incessant importunities to prevail upon my father to screen her
from reproach by marrying her, as he had promised in the fervour of
seduction, estranged him from her so completely, that her very person
became distasteful to him; and he began to hate, as well as despise me,
before I was born.</p>
<p>"My mother, grieved to the soul by his neglect, and unkind treatment,
actually resolved to famish herself; and injured her health by the
attempt; though she had not sufficient resolution to adhere to her
project, or renounce it entirely. Death came not at her call; yet sorrow,
and the methods she adopted to conceal her condition, still doing the work
of a house-maid, had such an effect on her constitution, that she died in
the wretched garret, where her virtuous mistress had forced her to take
refuge in the very pangs of labour, though my father, after a slight
reproof, was allowed to remain in his place—allowed by the mother of
six children, who, scarcely permitting a footstep to be heard, during her
month's indulgence, felt no sympathy for the poor wretch, denied every
comfort required by her situation.</p>
<p>"The day my mother, died, the ninth after my birth, I was consigned to the
care of the cheapest nurse my father could find; who suckled her own child
at the same time, and lodged as many more as she could get, in two
cellar-like apartments.</p>
<p>"Poverty, and the habit of seeing children die off her hands, had so
hardened her heart, that the office of a mother did not awaken the
tenderness of a woman; nor were the feminine caresses which seem a part of
the rearing of a child, ever bestowed on me. The chicken has a wing to
shelter under; but I had no bosom to nestle in, no kindred warmth to
foster me. Left in dirt, to cry with cold and hunger till I was weary, and
sleep without ever being prepared by exercise, or lulled by kindness to
rest; could I be expected to become any thing but a weak and rickety babe?
Still, in spite of neglect, I continued to exist, to learn to curse
existence, [her countenance grew ferocious as she spoke,] and the
treatment that rendered me miserable, seemed to sharpen my wits. Confined
then in a damp hovel, to rock the cradle of the succeeding tribe, I looked
like a little old woman, or a hag shrivelling into nothing. The furrows of
reflection and care contracted the youthful cheek, and gave a sort of
supernatural wildness to the ever watchful eye. During this period, my
father had married another fellow-servant, who loved him less, and knew
better how to manage his passion, than my mother. She likewise proving
with child, they agreed to keep a shop: my step-mother, if, being an
illegitimate offspring, I may venture thus to characterize her, having
obtained a sum of a rich relation, for that purpose.</p>
<p>"Soon after her lying-in, she prevailed on my father to take me home, to
save the expense of maintaining me, and of hiring a girl to assist her in
the care of the child. I was young, it was true, but appeared a knowing
little thing, and might be made handy. Accordingly I was brought to her
house; but not to a home—for a home I never knew. Of this child, a
daughter, she was extravagantly fond; and it was a part of my employment,
to assist to spoil her, by humouring all her whims, and bearing all her
caprices. Feeling her own consequence, before she could speak, she had
learned the art of tormenting me, and if I ever dared to resist, I
received blows, laid on with no compunctious hand, or was sent to bed
dinnerless, as well as supperless. I said that it was a part of my daily
labour to attend this child, with the servility of a slave; still it was
but a part. I was sent out in all seasons, and from place to place, to
carry burdens far above my strength, without being allowed to draw near
the fire, or ever being cheered by encouragement or kindness. No wonder
then, treated like a creature of another species, that I began to envy,
and at length to hate, the darling of the house. Yet, I perfectly
remember, that it was the caresses, and kind expressions of my
step-mother, which first excited my jealous discontent. Once, I cannot
forget it, when she was calling in vain her wayward child to kiss her, I
ran to her, saying, 'I will kiss you, ma'am!' and how did my heart, which
was in my mouth, sink, what was my debasement of soul, when pushed away
with—'I do not want you, pert thing!' Another day, when a new gown
had excited the highest good humour, and she uttered the appropriate dear,
addressed unexpectedly to me, I thought I could never do enough to please
her; I was all alacrity, and rose proportionably in my own estimation.</p>
<p>"As her daughter grew up, she was pampered with cakes and fruit, while I
was, literally speaking, fed with the refuse of the table, with her
leavings. A liquorish tooth is, I believe, common to children, and I used
to steal any thing sweet, that I could catch up with a chance of
concealment. When detected, she was not content to chastize me herself at
the moment, but, on my father's return in the evening (he was a shopman),
the principal discourse was to recount my faults, and attribute them to
the wicked disposition which I had brought into the world with me,
inherited from my mother. He did not fail to leave the marks of his
resentment on my body, and then solaced himself by playing with my sister.—I
could have murdered her at those moments. To save myself from these
unmerciful corrections, I resorted to falshood, and the untruths which I
sturdily maintained, were brought in judgment against me, to support my
tyrant's inhuman charge of my natural propensity to vice. Seeing me
treated with contempt, and always being fed and dressed better, my sister
conceived a contemptuous opinion of me, that proved an obstacle to all
affection; and my father, hearing continually of my faults, began to
consider me as a curse entailed on him for his sins: he was therefore
easily prevailed on to bind me apprentice to one of my step-mother's
friends, who kept a slop-shop in Wapping. I was represented (as it was
said) in my true colours; but she, 'warranted,' snapping her fingers,
'that she should break my spirit or heart.'</p>
<p>"My mother replied, with a whine, 'that if any body could make me better,
it was such a clever woman as herself; though, for her own part, she had
tried in vain; but good-nature was her fault.'</p>
<p>"I shudder with horror, when I recollect the treatment I had now to
endure. Not only under the lash of my task-mistress, but the drudge of the
maid, apprentices and children, I never had a taste of human kindness to
soften the rigour of perpetual labour. I had been introduced as an object
of abhorrence into the family; as a creature of whom my step-mother,
though she had been kind enough to let me live in the house with her own
child, could make nothing. I was described as a wretch, whose nose must be
kept to the grinding stone—and it was held there with an iron grasp.
It seemed indeed the privilege of their superior nature to kick me about,
like the dog or cat. If I were attentive, I was called fawning, if
refractory, an obstinate mule, and like a mule I received their censure on
my loaded back. Often has my mistress, for some instance of forgetfulness,
thrown me from one side of the kitchen to the other, knocked my head
against the wall, spit in my face, with various refinements on barbarity
that I forbear to enumerate, though they were all acted over again by the
servant, with additional insults, to which the appellation of bastard, was
commonly added, with taunts or sneers. But I will not attempt to give you
an adequate idea of my situation, lest you, who probably have never been
drenched with the dregs of human misery, should think I exaggerate.</p>
<p>"I stole now, from absolute necessity,—bread; yet whatever else was
taken, which I had it not in my power to take, was ascribed to me. I was
the filching cat, the ravenous dog, the dumb brute, who must bear all; for
if I endeavoured to exculpate myself, I was silenced, without any
enquiries being made, with 'Hold your tongue, you never tell truth.' Even
the very air I breathed was tainted with scorn; for I was sent to the
neighbouring shops with Glutton, Liar, or Thief, written on my forehead.
This was, at first, the most bitter punishment; but sullen pride, or a
kind of stupid desperation, made me, at length, almost regardless of the
contempt, which had wrung from me so many solitary tears at the only
moments when I was allowed to rest.</p>
<p>"Thus was I the mark of cruelty till my sixteenth year; and then I have
only to point out a change of misery; for a period I never knew. Allow me
first to make one observation. Now I look back, I cannot help attributing
the greater part of my misery, to the misfortune of having been thrown
into the world without the grand support of life—a mother's
affection. I had no one to love me; or to make me respected, to enable me
to acquire respect. I was an egg dropped on the sand; a pauper by nature,
hunted from family to family, who belonged to nobody—and nobody
cared for me. I was despised from my birth, and denied the chance of
obtaining a footing for myself in society. Yes; I had not even the chance
of being considered as a fellow-creature—yet all the people with
whom I lived, brutalized as they were by the low cunning of trade, and the
despicable shifts of poverty, were not without bowels, though they never
yearned for me. I was, in fact, born a slave, and chained by infamy to
slavery during the whole of existence, without having any companions to
alleviate it by sympathy, or teach me how to rise above it by their
example. But, to resume the thread of my tale—</p>
<p>"At sixteen, I suddenly grew tall, and something like comeliness appeared
on a Sunday, when I had time to wash my face, and put on clean clothes. My
master had once or twice caught hold of me in the passage; but I
instinctively avoided his disgusting caresses. One day however, when the
family were at a methodist meeting, he contrived to be alone in the house
with me, and by blows—yes; blows and menaces, compelled me to submit
to his ferocious desire; and, to avoid my mistress's fury, I was obliged
in future to comply, and skulk to my loft at his command, in spite of
increasing loathing.</p>
<p>"The anguish which was now pent up in my bosom, seemed to open a new world
to me: I began to extend my thoughts beyond myself, and grieve for human
misery, till I discovered, with horror—ah! what horror!—that I
was with child. I know not why I felt a mixed sensation of despair and
tenderness, excepting that, ever called a bastard, a bastard appeared to
me an object of the greatest compassion in creation.</p>
<p>"I communicated this dreadful circumstance to my master, who was almost
equally alarmed at the intelligence; for he feared his wife, and public
censure at the meeting. After some weeks of deliberation had elapsed, I in
continual fear that my altered shape would be noticed, my master gave me a
medicine in a phial, which he desired me to take, telling me, without any
circumlocution, for what purpose it was designed. I burst into tears, I
thought it was killing myself—yet was such a self as I worth
preserving? He cursed me for a fool, and left me to my own reflections. I
could not resolve to take this infernal potion; but I wrapped it up in an
old gown, and hid it in a corner of my box.</p>
<p>"Nobody yet suspected me, because they had been accustomed to view me as a
creature of another species. But the threatening storm at last broke over
my devoted head—never shall I forget it! One Sunday evening when I
was left, as usual, to take care of the house, my master came home
intoxicated, and I became the prey of his brutal appetite. His extreme
intoxication made him forget his customary caution, and my mistress
entered and found us in a situation that could not have been more hateful
to her than me. Her husband was 'pot-valiant,' he feared her not at the
moment, nor had he then much reason, for she instantly turned the whole
force of her anger another way. She tore off my cap, scratched, kicked,
and buffetted me, till she had exhausted her strength, declaring, as she
rested her arm, 'that I had wheedled her husband from her.—But,
could any thing better be expected from a wretch, whom she had taken into
her house out of pure charity?' What a torrent of abuse rushed out? till,
almost breathless, she concluded with saying, 'that I was born a strumpet;
it ran in my blood, and nothing good could come to those who harboured
me.'</p>
<p>"My situation was, of course, discovered, and she declared that I should
not stay another night under the same roof with an honest family. I was
therefore pushed out of doors, and my trumpery thrown after me, when it
had been contemptuously examined in the passage, lest I should have stolen
any thing.</p>
<p>"Behold me then in the street, utterly destitute! Whither could I creep
for shelter? To my father's roof I had no claim, when not pursued by shame—now
I shrunk back as from death, from my mother's cruel reproaches, my
father's execrations. I could not endure to hear him curse the day I was
born, though life had been a curse to me. Of death I thought, but with a
confused emotion of terror, as I stood leaning my head on a post, and
starting at every footstep, lest it should be my mistress coming to tear
my heart out. One of the boys of the shop passing by, heard my tale, and
immediately repaired to his master, to give him a description of my
situation; and he touched the right key—the scandal it would give
rise to, if I were left to repeat my tale to every enquirer. This plea
came home to his reason, who had been sobered by his wife's rage, the fury
of which fell on him when I was out of her reach, and he sent the boy to
me with half-a-guinea, desiring him to conduct me to a house, where
beggars, and other wretches, the refuse of society, nightly lodged.</p>
<p>"This night was spent in a state of stupefaction, or desperation. I
detested mankind, and abhorred myself.</p>
<p>"In the morning I ventured out, to throw myself in my master's way, at his
usual hour of going abroad. I approached him, he 'damned me for a b——,
declared I had disturbed the peace of the family, and that he had sworn to
his wife, never to take any more notice of me.' He left me; but, instantly
returning, he told me that he should speak to his friend, a
parish-officer, to get a nurse for the brat I laid to him; and advised me,
if I wished to keep out of the house of correction, not to make free with
his name.</p>
<p>"I hurried back to my hole, and, rage giving place to despair, sought for
the potion that was to procure abortion, and swallowed it, with a wish
that it might destroy me, at the same time that it stopped the sensations
of new-born life, which I felt with indescribable emotion. My head turned
round, my heart grew sick, and in the horrors of approaching dissolution,
mental anguish was swallowed up. The effect of the medicine was violent,
and I was confined to my bed several days; but, youth and a strong
constitution prevailing, I once more crawled out, to ask myself the cruel
question, 'Whither I should go?' I had but two shillings left in my
pocket, the rest had been expended, by a poor woman who slept in the same
room, to pay for my lodging, and purchase the necessaries of which she
partook.</p>
<p>"With this wretch I went into the neighbouring streets to beg, and my
disconsolate appearance drew a few pence from the idle, enabling me still
to command a bed; till, recovering from my illness, and taught to put on
my rags to the best advantage, I was accosted from different motives, and
yielded to the desire of the brutes I met, with the same detestation that
I had felt for my still more brutal master. I have since read in novels of
the blandishments of seduction, but I had not even the pleasure of being
enticed into vice.</p>
<p>"I shall not," interrupted Jemima, "lead your imagination into all the
scenes of wretchedness and depravity, which I was condemned to view; or
mark the different stages of my debasing misery. Fate dragged me through
the very kennels of society: I was still a slave, a bastard, a common
property. Become familiar with vice, for I wish to conceal nothing from
you, I picked the pockets of the drunkards who abused me; and proved by my
conduct, that I deserved the epithets, with which they loaded me at
moments when distrust ought to cease.</p>
<p>"Detesting my nightly occupation, though valuing, if I may so use the
word, my independence, which only consisted in choosing the street in
which I should wander, or the roof, when I had money, in which I should
hide my head, I was some time before I could prevail on myself to accept
of a place in a house of ill fame, to which a girl, with whom I had
accidentally conversed in the street, had recommended me. I had been
hunted almost into a fever, by the watchmen of the quarter of the town I
frequented; one, whom I had unwittingly offended, giving the word to the
whole pack. You can scarcely conceive the tyranny exercised by these
wretches: considering themselves as the instruments of the very laws they
violate, the pretext which steels their conscience, hardens their heart.
Not content with receiving from us, outlaws of society (let other women
talk of favours) a brutal gratification gratuitously as a privilege of
office, they extort a tithe of prostitution, and harrass with threats the
poor creatures whose occupation affords not the means to silence the growl
of avarice. To escape from this persecution, I once more entered into
servitude.</p>
<p>"A life of comparative regularity restored my health; and—do not
start—my manners were improved, in a situation where vice sought to
render itself alluring, and taste was cultivated to fashion the person, if
not to refine the mind. Besides, the common civility of speech, contrasted
with the gross vulgarity to which I had been accustomed, was something
like the polish of civilization. I was not shut out from all intercourse
of humanity. Still I was galled by the yoke of service, and my mistress
often flying into violent fits of passion, made me dread a sudden
dismission, which I understood was always the case. I was therefore
prevailed on, though I felt a horror of men, to accept the offer of a
gentleman, rather in the decline of years, to keep his house, pleasantly
situated in a little village near Hampstead.</p>
<p>"He was a man of great talents, and of brilliant wit; but, a worn-out
votary of voluptuousness, his desires became fastidious in proportion as
they grew weak, and the native tenderness of his heart was undermined by a
vitiated imagination. A thoughtless career of libertinism and social
enjoyment, had injured his health to such a degree, that, whatever
pleasure his conversation afforded me (and my esteem was ensured by proofs
of the generous humanity of his disposition), the being his mistress was
purchasing it at a very dear rate. With such a keen perception of the
delicacies of sentiment, with an imagination invigorated by the exercise
of genius, how could he sink into the grossness of sensuality!</p>
<p>"But, to pass over a subject which I recollect with pain, I must remark to
you, as an answer to your often-repeated question, 'Why my sentiments and
language were superior to my station?' that I now began to read, to
beguile the tediousness of solitude, and to gratify an inquisitive, active
mind. I had often, in my childhood, followed a ballad-singer, to hear the
sequel of a dismal story, though sure of being severely punished for
delaying to return with whatever I was sent to purchase. I could just
spell and put a sentence together, and I listened to the various
arguments, though often mingled with obscenity, which occurred at the
table where I was allowed to preside: for a literary friend or two
frequently came home with my master, to dine and pass the night. Having
lost the privileged respect of my sex, my presence, instead of
restraining, perhaps gave the reins to their tongues; still I had the
advantage of hearing discussions, from which, in the common course of
life, women are excluded.</p>
<p>"You may easily imagine, that it was only by degrees that I could
comprehend some of the subjects they investigated, or acquire from their
reasoning what might be termed a moral sense. But my fondness of reading
increasing, and my master occasionally shutting himself up in this
retreat, for weeks together, to write, I had many opportunities of
improvement. At first, considering money (I was right!" exclaimed Jemima,
altering her tone of voice) "as the only means, after my loss of
reputation, of obtaining respect, or even the toleration of humanity, I
had not the least scruple to secrete a part of the sums intrusted to me,
and to screen myself from detection by a system of falshood. But,
acquiring new principles, I began to have the ambition of returning to the
respectable part of society, and was weak enough to suppose it possible.
The attention of my unassuming instructor, who, without being ignorant of
his own powers, possessed great simplicity of manners, strengthened the
illusion. Having sometimes caught up hints for thought, from my untutored
remarks, he often led me to discuss the subjects he was treating, and
would read to me his productions, previous to their publication, wishing
to profit by the criticism of unsophisticated feeling. The aim of his
writings was to touch the simple springs of the heart; for he despised the
would-be oracles, the self-elected philosophers, who fright away fancy,
while sifting each grain of thought to prove that slowness of
comprehension is wisdom.</p>
<p>"I should have distinguished this as a moment of sunshine, a happy period
in my life, had not the repugnance the disgusting libertinism of my
protector inspired, daily become more painful.—And, indeed, I soon
did recollect it as such with agony, when his sudden death (for he had
recourse to the most exhilarating cordials to keep up the convivial tone
of his spirits) again threw me into the desert of human society. Had he
had any time for reflection, I am certain he would have left the little
property in his power to me: but, attacked by the fatal apoplexy in town,
his heir, a man of rigid morals, brought his wife with him to take
possession of the house and effects, before I was even informed of his
death,—'to prevent,' as she took care indirectly to tell me, 'such a
creature as she supposed me to be, from purloining any of them, had I been
apprized of the event in time.'</p>
<p>"The grief I felt at the sudden shock the information gave me, which at
first had nothing selfish in it, was treated with contempt, and I was
ordered to pack up my clothes; and a few trinkets and books, given me by
the generous deceased, were contested, while they piously hoped, with a
reprobating shake of the head, 'that God would have mercy on his sinful
soul!' With some difficulty, I obtained my arrears of wages; but asking—such
is the spirit-grinding consequence of poverty and infamy—for a
character for honesty and economy, which God knows I merited, I was told
by this—why must I call her woman?—'that it would go against
her conscience to recommend a kept mistress.' Tears started in my eyes,
burning tears; for there are situations in which a wretch is humbled by
the contempt they are conscious they do not deserve.</p>
<p>"I returned to the metropolis; but the solitude of a poor lodging was
inconceivably dreary, after the society I had enjoyed. To be cut off from
human converse, now I had been taught to relish it, was to wander a ghost
among the living. Besides, I foresaw, to aggravate the severity of my
fate, that my little pittance would soon melt away. I endeavoured to
obtain needlework; but, not having been taught early, and my hands being
rendered clumsy by hard work, I did not sufficiently excel to be employed
by the ready-made linen shops, when so many women, better qualified, were
suing for it. The want of a character prevented my getting a place; for,
irksome as servitude would have been to me, I should have made another
trial, had it been feasible. Not that I disliked employment, but the
inequality of condition to which I must have submitted. I had acquired a
taste for literature, during the five years I had lived with a literary
man, occasionally conversing with men of the first abilities of the age;
and now to descend to the lowest vulgarity, was a degree of wretchedness
not to be imagined unfelt. I had not, it is true, tasted the charms of
affection, but I had been familiar with the graces of humanity.</p>
<p>"One of the gentlemen, whom I had frequently dined in company with, while
I was treated like a companion, met me in the street, and enquired after
my health. I seized the occasion, and began to describe my situation; but
he was in haste to join, at dinner, a select party of choice spirits;
therefore, without waiting to hear me, he impatiently put a guinea into my
hand, saying, 'It was a pity such a sensible woman should be in distress—he
wished me well from his soul.'</p>
<p>"To another I wrote, stating my case, and requesting advice. He was an
advocate for unequivocal sincerity; and had often, in my presence,
descanted on the evils which arise in society from the despotism of rank
and riches.</p>
<p>"In reply, I received a long essay on the energy of the human mind, with
continual allusions to his own force of character. He added, 'That the
woman who could write such a letter as I had sent him, could never be in
want of resources, were she to look into herself, and exert her powers;
misery was the consequence of indolence, and, as to my being shut out from
society, it was the lot of man to submit to certain privations.'</p>
<p>"How often have I heard," said Jemima, interrupting her narrative, "in
conversation, and read in books, that every person willing to work may
find employment? It is the vague assertion, I believe, of insensible
indolence, when it relates to men; but, with respect to women, I am sure
of its fallacy, unless they will submit to the most menial bodily labour;
and even to be employed at hard labour is out of the reach of many, whose
reputation misfortune or folly has tainted.</p>
<p>"How writers, professing to be friends to freedom, and the improvement of
morals, can assert that poverty is no evil, I cannot imagine."</p>
<p>"No more can I," interrupted Maria, "yet they even expatiate on the
peculiar happiness of indigence, though in what it can consist, excepting
in brutal rest, when a man can barely earn a subsistence, I cannot
imagine. The mind is necessarily imprisoned in its own little tenement;
and, fully occupied by keeping it in repair, has not time to rove abroad
for improvement. The book of knowledge is closely clasped, against those
who must fulfil their daily task of severe manual labour or die; and
curiosity, rarely excited by thought or information, seldom moves on the
stagnate lake of ignorance."</p>
<p>"As far as I have been able to observe," replied Jemima, "prejudices,
caught up by chance, are obstinately maintained by the poor, to the
exclusion of improvement; they have not time to reason or reflect to any
extent, or minds sufficiently exercised to adopt the principles of action,
which form perhaps the only basis of contentment in every station."*</p>
<p>* The copy which appears to have received the author's<br/>
last corrections, ends at this place. [Godwin's note]<br/></p>
<p>"And independence," said Darnford, "they are necessarily strangers to,
even the independence of despising their persecutors. If the poor are
happy, or can be happy, <i>things</i> <i>are</i> <i>very</i> <i>well</i>
<i>as</i> <i>they</i> <i>are</i>. And I cannot conceive on what principle
those writers contend for a change of system, who support this opinion.
The authors on the other side of the question are much more consistent,
who grant the fact; yet, insisting that it is the lot of the majority to
be oppressed in this life, kindly turn them over to another, to rectify
the false weights and measures of this, as the only way to justify the
dispensations of Providence. I have not," continued Darnford, "an opinion
more firmly fixed by observation in my mind, than that, though riches may
fail to produce proportionate happiness, poverty most commonly excludes
it, by shutting up all the avenues to improvement."</p>
<p>"And as for the affections," added Maria, with a sigh, "how gross, and
even tormenting do they become, unless regulated by an improving mind! The
culture of the heart ever, I believe, keeps pace with that of the mind.
But pray go on," addressing Jemima, "though your narrative gives rise to
the most painful reflections on the present state of society."</p>
<p>"Not to trouble you," continued she, "with a detailed description of all
the painful feelings of unavailing exertion, I have only to tell you, that
at last I got recommended to wash in a few families, who did me the favour
to admit me into their houses, without the most strict enquiry, to wash
from one in the morning till eight at night, for eighteen or twenty-pence
a day. On the happiness to be enjoyed over a washing-tub I need not
comment; yet you will allow me to observe, that this was a wretchedness of
situation peculiar to my sex. A man with half my industry, and, I may say,
abilities, could have procured a decent livelihood, and discharged some of
the duties which knit mankind together; whilst I, who had acquired a taste
for the rational, nay, in honest pride let me assert it, the virtuous
enjoyments of life, was cast aside as the filth of society. Condemned to
labour, like a machine, only to earn bread, and scarcely that, I became
melancholy and desperate.</p>
<p>"I have now to mention a circumstance which fills me with remorse, and
fear it will entirely deprive me of your esteem. A tradesman became
attached to me, and visited me frequently,—and I at last obtained
such a power over him, that he offered to take me home to his house.—Consider,
dear madam, I was famishing: wonder not that I became a wolf!—The
only reason for not taking me home immediately, was the having a girl in
the house, with child by him—and this girl—I advised him—yes,
I did! would I could forget it!—to turn out of doors: and one night
he determined to follow my advice. Poor wretch! She fell upon her knees,
reminded him that he had promised to marry her, that her parents were
honest!—What did it avail?—She was turned out.</p>
<p>"She approached her father's door, in the skirts of London,—listened
at the shutters,—but could not knock. A watchman had observed her go
and return several times—Poor wretch!—[The remorse Jemima
spoke of, seemed to be stinging her to the soul, as she proceeded.]</p>
<p>"She left it, and, approaching a tub where horses were watered, she sat
down in it, and, with desperate resolution, remained in that attitude—till
resolution was no longer necessary!</p>
<p>"I happened that morning to be going out to wash, anticipating the moment
when I should escape from such hard labour. I passed by, just as some men,
going to work, drew out the stiff, cold corpse—Let me not recall the
horrid moment!—I recognized her pale visage; I listened to the tale
told by the spectators, and my heart did not burst. I thought of my own
state, and wondered how I could be such a monster!—I worked hard;
and, returning home, I was attacked by a fever. I suffered both in body
and mind. I determined not to live with the wretch. But he did not try me;
he left the neighbourhood. I once more returned to the wash-tub.</p>
<p>"Still this state, miserable as it was, admitted of aggravation. Lifting
one day a heavy load, a tub fell against my shin, and gave me great pain.
I did not pay much attention to the hurt, till it became a serious wound;
being obliged to work as usual, or starve. But, finding myself at length
unable to stand for any time, I thought of getting into an hospital.
Hospitals, it should seem (for they are comfortless abodes for the sick)
were expressly endowed for the reception of the friendless; yet I, who had
on that plea a right to assistance, wanted the recommendation of the rich
and respectable, and was several weeks languishing for admittance; fees
were demanded on entering; and, what was still more unreasonable, security
for burying me, that expence not coming into the letter of the charity. A
guinea was the stipulated sum—I could as soon have raised a million;
and I was afraid to apply to the parish for an order, lest they should
have passed me, I knew not whither. The poor woman at whose house I
lodged, compassionating my state, got me into the hospital; and the family
where I received the hurt, sent me five shillings, three and six-pence of
which I gave at my admittance—I know not for what.</p>
<p>"My leg grew quickly better; but I was dismissed before my cure was
completed, because I could not afford to have my linen washed to appear
decently, as the virago of a nurse said, when the gentlemen (the surgeons)
came. I cannot give you an adequate idea of the wretchedness of an
hospital; every thing is left to the care of people intent on gain. The
attendants seem to have lost all feeling of compassion in the bustling
discharge of their offices; death is so familiar to them, that they are
not anxious to ward it off. Every thing appeared to be conducted for the
accommodation of the medical men and their pupils, who came to make
experiments on the poor, for the benefit of the rich. One of the
physicians, I must not forget to mention, gave me half-a-crown, and
ordered me some wine, when I was at the lowest ebb. I thought of making my
case known to the lady-like matron; but her forbidding countenance
prevented me. She condescended to look on the patients, and make general
enquiries, two or three times a week; but the nurses knew the hour when
the visit of ceremony would commence, and every thing was as it should be.</p>
<p>"After my dismission, I was more at a loss than ever for a subsistence,
and, not to weary you with a repetition of the same unavailing attempts,
unable to stand at the washing-tub, I began to consider the rich and poor
as natural enemies, and became a thief from principle. I could not now
cease to reason, but I hated mankind. I despised myself, yet I justified
my conduct. I was taken, tried, and condemned to six months' imprisonment
in a house of correction. My soul recoils with horror from the remembrance
of the insults I had to endure, till, branded with shame, I was turned
loose in the street, pennyless. I wandered from street to street, till,
exhausted by hunger and fatigue, I sunk down senseless at a door, where I
had vainly demanded a morsel of bread. I was sent by the inhabitant to the
work-house, to which he had surlily bid me go, saying, he 'paid enough in
conscience to the poor,' when, with parched tongue, I implored his
charity. If those well-meaning people who exclaim against beggars, were
acquainted with the treatment the poor receive in many of these wretched
asylums, they would not stifle so easily involuntary sympathy, by saying
that they have all parishes to go to, or wonder that the poor dread to
enter the gloomy walls. What are the common run of workhouses, but
prisons, in which many respectable old people, worn out by immoderate
labour, sink into the grave in sorrow, to which they are carried like
dogs!"</p>
<p>Alarmed by some indistinct noise, Jemima rose hastily to listen, and
Maria, turning to Darnford, said, "I have indeed been shocked beyond
expression when I have met a pauper's funeral. A coffin carried on the
shoulders of three or four ill-looking wretches, whom the imagination
might easily convert into a band of assassins, hastening to conceal the
corpse, and quarrelling about the prey on their way. I know it is of
little consequence how we are consigned to the earth; but I am led by this
brutal insensibility, to what even the animal creation appears forcibly to
feel, to advert to the wretched, deserted manner in which they died."</p>
<p>"True," rejoined Darnford, "and, till the rich will give more than a part
of their wealth, till they will give time and attention to the wants of
the distressed, never let them boast of charity. Let them open their
hearts, and not their purses, and employ their minds in the service, if
they are really actuated by humanity; or charitable institutions will
always be the prey of the lowest order of knaves."</p>
<p>Jemima returning, seemed in haste to finish her tale. "The overseer farmed
the poor of different parishes, and out of the bowels of poverty was wrung
the money with which he purchased this dwelling, as a private receptacle
for madness. He had been a keeper at a house of the same description, and
conceived that he could make money much more readily in his old
occupation. He is a shrewd—shall I say it?—villain. He
observed something resolute in my manner, and offered to take me with him,
and instruct me how to treat the disturbed minds he meant to intrust to my
care. The offer of forty pounds a year, and to quit a workhouse, was not
to be despised, though the condition of shutting my eyes and hardening my
heart was annexed to it.</p>
<p>"I agreed to accompany him; and four years have I been attendant on many
wretches, and"—she lowered her voice,—"the witness of many
enormities. In solitude my mind seemed to recover its force, and many of
the sentiments which I imbibed in the only tolerable period of my life,
returned with their full force. Still what should induce me to be the
champion for suffering humanity?—Who ever risked any thing for me?—Who
ever acknowledged me to be a fellow-creature?"—</p>
<p>Maria took her hand, and Jemima, more overcome by kindness than she had
ever been by cruelty, hastened out of the room to conceal her emotions.</p>
<p>Darnford soon after heard his summons, and, taking leave of him, Maria
promised to gratify his curiosity, with respect to herself, the first
opportunity.</p>
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